Dear Reader,
Tomorrow morning I will rise before the sun, don layers of something called "Capilene" and fleece, as well as sneakers, and set off for Central Park where I will run for somewhere around two hours. It is the Manhattan Half Marathon, and something possessed me to sign up for it. My goals are twofold: to finish, and to leave my pants unsoiled in the process. I've been working my way up to running 13 miles, so I should be able to make it, fueled by thoughts of the massive He Man breakfast I will devour when I'm done. Think of me tomorrow, as it will be snowing here in NYC and I will surely be freezing. I just hope I get some sort of medal that I can wear as an everyday accessory, perhaps pinned to the front of a turban.
What feast will be the subject of my race day imagination? Fitness Test French Toast, of course - great slabs of brioche soaked in a custard of egg, milk, vanilla, and cinnamon, griddled to a golden brown perfection in a butter-laden skillet and topped with apples simmered in more butter (don't give me any Paula Deen crap - I will have run 13.1 miles and I bet Mrs. Deen can't even drive that far without needing a breather) and brown sugar, then anointed with a generous pour of maple syrup. Oh yeah, and sausage. There will be sausage.
Wish me luck.
Hilarious! Love it. Congrats on finishing. Especially in such adverse weather conditions. You GO girl! Hope the French toast was worth it!
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