The Man From Marathon
There was no chainsaw wielding gorilla. There were no zombie hordes. There wasn’t even an ice cream truck turning the corner as I dug for the sweaty dollar bill in my pocket.
And yet three days a week, since we moved to Staten Island, I’ve been stepping into my fancy sneakers and weird Nike shorts with the underwear built in, and I’ve been running.
I gotta say; running kinda sucks balls. You have to be a first class, Type-A control freak to get any pleasure out of this sport. And who the hell designs those too-short-shorts that have the split up the side that goes to your armpit, neon green sneakers, “Second skin” running pants, and those horrible little hats that bike riders also seem to enjoy? I’m hardly Mr. Fashion, but isn’t it bad enough that you’re sweating like a pig, drooling and spitting, snot coming out your face, and sometimes even shitting* yourself? You have to dress badly also??
My shrinking waistline is okay though. And there is a sort of primal enjoyment in running I guess. The ability to sweat through our skin and run down large prey animals is a very big part of what helped those prehistoric monkeys become the dominant species on the planet, and I often think about that while I’m gasping for air and listening to me feet pound the gravel. And these weird/awesome shoes that look like gorilla feet are pretty cool too. (Talk about bad fashion sense!)
Other than getting out of the house for a few hours each morning I’m pretty much locked away in the studio working on Atomic Robo 5.2 and the recently announced Avenger: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.
And that’s all I’ve got time for.
