Never Again: Running a Marathon
I write this narrative from my bed the morning after. People who complain about hangovers have nothing on my calves. You don’t know pain.
Leading up to the marathon, I tried to train. I mean, I did train. I ran twice a week. My friends, Ally and Emily, trained with an actual training team. I trained once with them. But back in September, at a half-marathon, a woman told me that to properly train one should run two miles more than the race distance aka 28 miles. But, like, betch, why would I run 28 miles and then go run a marathon? I would’ve already done it.
The night before the race, my friends and I went to Mamma Zu’s to carb load. And then I went to a concert. Yes, that’s right. I went out on the town. But it was one of my favorite bands, and I wouldn’t have been living my best life if I didn’t go see them perform live. I got home at midnight and then slept five hours
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