That's my third NYC Marathon rejection in a row, for those of you keeping score at home. And I found out on National Running Day, no less. The indignity! But three consecutive rejections means I'm guaranteed to get in next year. Except I don't want to train for a marathon next year. The plan was to run Chicago in October and New York in November and then retire from the sport for a while. Or forever. This is my seventh summer of training and my back and knees and ankles–and social life–are really starting to fight back.
But it gives me another year to save up for a hotel in Manhattan, I guess. And maybe I can make 2010 the Year Of The Traveling Marathon. I've always wanted to run DC as well, and as long as it's in early October and NYC is in early November, I think I could swing both of them. Plus I could sit on the sidelines in Chicago and just cheer people on for once.
But now is not the time to be all excited and hopeful about the future. I prefer to dwell on the rejection for a bit longer. Which is why I'm always so fun at parties.