Sorry chief, you didn’t RUN a marathon.

(The spoked b walking up Heart-Brake Hill literally broke my heart.)

Not so hidden among these Heart-Break Hill Warriors are the folks that will tell you that their biggest achievement in life was running “fill in the blank” marathon. They’re the people who will show up at work the next day wearing their medals and tinfoil. They’re the ones waddling their chappy ass cheeks to the printer room…jones’n for you to ask them why they’re walking like an asshole. Well, this guy is not falling for it. I know the difference between “running a marathon” and exercising for more than 5 hours. (Both by the way are things I cannot do.)

“Yeah, but do you know how much money these people are raising for charity?”

Yes I do. It’s a noble gesture to fleece your family for donations under the guise of accomplishing what used to be considered an athletic super-milestone. Do you know what happened when Pheidippides arrived in Athens to share the joyous news of victory? He f’n died. Let me ask you this, Sally from Accounts Receivable …did you almost die when you sauntered down Boylston Street a few ticks shy of 6 hours?

Look, I’m not looking to belittle everyone who took to the streets yesterday. By all means, feel as empowered as you possibly can be. This is more a call to action to defend what “running” a marathon actually is. How about we cap it at 4 hours? That’s just over a 9 min/mile pace. If you fail hit that mark, you should be required to return all collected funds to your disappointed aunts and uncles, and shamefully cover the freight out of pocket. It seems only fair. If you hit that mark then by all means; flaunt your bloody nipples for weeks to come. You’ve earned it.

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