What are the odds?
I decide -completely on a whim- to enter the ING New York Marathon lottery days before the drawing. Thinking: I’ll NEVER get in. With Hurricane Sandy and Boston and the guaranteed runners, what are there? Three lottery spots? Yeah. Right. I have a better chance of having tea with the Queen.
–Eh. What the hell Colby? Do it. Throw your name in. Do it!
Post- Big Sur Marathon blues were setting in.
–What am I gonna run in the fall? What? No marathon? That’s crap. I’m getting soft. I need a plan. A GOAL!.
God forbid I don’t have a freaking goal.
Total lunacy, I know. I’m far from “soft.” And I know it. Although at times I forget it. There are times when I think if I sit still for more than 5 minutes I’ll morph into Jaba the Hut, and permanently ooze into a pilly green couch, clad in a floral mu-mu, covered in Doritos, surrounded by 50 cats.
That’s really not me.
But sometimes that’s what I think will happen.
So The Lottery… (Not Shirley Jackson’s, Lottery although someone should have stoned me when I pressed ‘Send’.)
I got this…
So. I’m in.
Why am I not turning kart wheels?
–Yeah! GOOOOOOOAAAAALLLLL!!! Insert annoying vuvuzela here.
Oh right. I left this juicy tidbit out.
I pulled the trigger.
I registered for the VT50.
A 50k trail race.
My first ultra. In Vermont.
I had the blog post all ready.
Then this happened.
It’s Septmeber 29th.
The New York Marathon is November 3rd.
I texted Tina. I laughed out loud. I had a tumbler of wine.
I wanted a goddamn goal.
Now I have two.
And I’m maniacally smiling ear to ear.