There comes a time...

in every man's life when he asks himself, "Can I run a marathon?" If you have not yet experienced this, it is not yet "your time" so do not fret.

For yours truly, this time came and passed about two years ago. My friend Robin was training for a half marathon which she eventually ran and then months later did the full 26.2 mile NYC one as well. Let me start off by saying, I am not a runner nor do I pretend to be one. I still don't even have the "right sneakers." I was a fat-ass in high school and thought track was a mindless and overall boring sport. I probably didn't even consider it a sport. In my teenage years, I ran to the F train when I overslept, the Q23 when I wanted to get home and yes, I've even run for a few girls in my life. I did it out of necessity. As of today, I still cannot say I like running, but it is slowly becoming more tolerable.

So, back to the topic at hand - the marathon question. I thought my friend was crazy, absolutely cukoo bananas. Just think about it folks: 26.2 miles! From where I live in Manhattan that would get me pretty deep into Westchester County, not to mention Long Island and New Jersey. That is insane and not human. But then, Robin did it and so did freakin' Puff Daddy, or just Diddy whichever you prefer. I was happy for her, but also happy for myself. I slept in on Marathon Sunday and drank on First Avenue cheering on the crazy runners around mile 20. I was able to walk that week with no problem as opposed to my friend and concluded that I had chosen wisely, like in that Indiana Jones flick. That was two years ago.

Months back, I received a forward from a friend that wasn't of a cat jumping into a wall or of a good luck nature. It was about this girl (read about her from my links) who had lost a great friend to cancer and who wanted to do something in his memory. He was only 29. She decided to run a marathon with Team in Training - one of the largest fund raisers in the world that helps those fighting leukemia and other forms of cancer. What made her case even more appealing to me was that she wasn't a runner. Just like me, she had never before run more than a couple of miles at a time. Just like me, she hated it. She started her blog to spread the word and so that her friends and family could follow her progress throughout her training. I became a fan. I read her blog every so often and cheered for this person I had never met. It was like keeping up with your favorite show. There were ups and downs and then the grand finale came and it was sweet. This non-runner who had a willing heart finished her first marathon in January. I had to meet her; if anything to at least congratulate her.

That was about two months ago and my god can a lot happen in two months if you allow a persuasive, sweet-talking, fireball of a woman talk you into it. So here I am now, taking a page from a new friend, announcing to all of my friends and family, "I am going to run a marathon." To be more specific, The Rock 'N' Roll San Diego Marathon on June 3rd, 2007. I have been training for about three weeks now and have officially joined Team in Training just this past week. I need the structure of a team and that support system considering I'm new to this running thing. I also am a big fan of their mission and their cause. Did I also mention that it's about a 10 to 1 girls to guys ratio. Yeah, life sucks.

I am running for a few different reasons: because I never thought I could do this; because I think Cancer is a terrible thing that affects everyone in some way. If not directly, we all know someone who has had their lives forever changed because of this illness and because if I can raise some money so that some poor guy or girl gets the help they need, then why not. Lastly, I am running in memory of my uncle, Jorge Gagliardi. He went from alive and "healthy" to a shell of his former self in the matter of a month. His was not detected in time and his passing is one that still deeply saddens me. He had a huge heart and always made me laugh. That is my motivation. When I am training these next three months, there's going to be times when I want to quit, when I want to say "I made a mistake, this isn't for me." I would be naive not to think that. It's then when I can think about "mi tio Jorge" and all of the asados (bbq's) we had together in Buenos Aires and push to get that extra mile or two or ten until I get to that finish line. 26.2 baby. Welcome to my journey.