It will be the best of times, I will have the worst of times. This coming weekend is the Altamont half marathon. “Dear Runners, please find enclosed important race information” reads the email from the race director. Dire, dire, dire things will happen if you do not pick up your race bib the day before the race. Mayhem!
I’ve done this one before and enjoyed it, but I’m kind of dreading this particular installment. A new course, which seems designed more to please the bureaucrats who must approve it rather than the people who pay to run it. Plus, a lot of out of towners. I bet anyway, because the race filled up super early. Having scoped out various sections of the course, the best I can say is that it seems to say, “Welcome to Altamant, now SUCK IT!” Next year, nothing but locals and the olde course? A boy can dream.
I got another email from another race director this week. It said “What were you thinking?” and “This is going to hurt.” God bless you my friend. Let’s drop the pretense that these exploits are anything other than a societally approved guise for our masochism. I mean, come on. This race, with something like 200 people, will take place in the land of my youth. Flying monkeys indeed. Time hanging with Ace and Pappy to boot. Let’s get it on!