And she ran and ran and ran

And she tasted like salt at the end

I call her crazy, but then I always have.
26 miles IS crazy. Or maybe it's just that I could never do it.
Her pre-marathon training included drinking half of Napa Valley, smoking and hanging out with her friends till all hours 2 nights before. Now that, I can (and did), get down with. The heavy Italian food the night before...down with that too. But the running...
I'm really more of a reader and my preferred form of self-abuse seems to be bourbon.

She brought back stories from the run. People cheering on as people dropped trow on the side of the road to urinate, a guy offering little bottles of beer to the runners, people sweating , bleeding, puking. I just never realized there were so many bodily fluids involved in a marathon. She told me how the crowd would pick out something about a runner to cheer them on “go bald-guy, keep it up pink-shorts, way to go shit-your-pants” (and since she was wearing a t-shirt that held the name of her acting troupe which ended in Satan) the crowd cheering Satan on to the finish line. “Com’on Satan, you can do it!”
It was a good time. And the post marathon party was (in my opinion) well worth all her effort and pain. It was a great party, even if all anyone talked about was her and the marathon. She’s so cool, she so strong, she so great, she’s on TV. No one even cared that I was kinda sore from weightlifting the day before, that I had been active too, that I had had to deal with a crowd too. I had to walk thru the park for an hour looking for her…a WHOLE hour!

Yeah sure she got a cool medal, a Mylar blanket and all kinds of respect (even from me), and she is probably healthier for it, but I can do something she can't...I can walk today.