Crazy People, Running

The L.A. Marathon of Crazy People

Today is the L.A. Marathon, an event I've never trained for, or even understood. The thought of running and running and running some more, from one end of the city to the other, a big sprawling city, no less, seems completely insane and misguided, but best of luck to y'all who are out there doing it right now. Keep running. You've got a long way to go. If it's all the same, the SJG will stay home and not watch you run. For watching you run will bring back the trauma I endured a few years back, when the gals and I unknowingly scheduled a birthday lunch on the day of the Marathon. The Westsiders made it to the Ivy with little tsuris. The Valley gals? We got stuck and rerouted and dramatically delayed. I left my car somewhere on Doheny above Santa Monica Boulevard and started walking. It was the only time I've ever seen real marathoners out there doing their marathon thing, huffing and puffing and ready to plotz, and I'd be lying if I told you these people looked happy.  They looked a little bit deranged, a little bit, "Why did I think this was a good idea?" But please, don't let my lack of enthusiasm keep you from running or watching people run and run some more. There are some things I'll never understand, and this is definitely one of them.