Marika Malaea

faithful marauder + fake royal

The Sky Is Halfway Falling

with 5 comments

I took this photo at the Seattle Marathon over a week ago. Your first instinct — “Marathon? Perhaps she meant to say ‘casserole-eating contest’?” — is entirely correct. Marathons are to Marika as thought is to Sarah Palin: painful, confusing, and alien. Someone asked me what my price would be to run a marathon, and in the end, it was simple. I wanted three things:

1. To rule the country of my choosing as a benevolent dictator.

2. To fund my own space program and become a cosmonaut.

3. To look like Joan Holloway from Mad Men at whim.

(Runner-up: Own a mythical creature.)

To recap: I will run a marathon when I’m a red-haired, space-exploring, Qaddafi-like sexpot who domesticates krakens and minotaurs. Pretty sure that translates to “never ever ever.”

In any case, my 64-year old bad ass of a mom ran the half-marathon, as she does every year, and we met her at the finish line. There were runners everywhere, wrapped up like shiny human satellites, smiling and shivering in their spacey Heatsheets. We walked with my parents to the recovery area (see: above), something I’d envisioned as a giant hall with cots where runners went to die in public. Instead, it was an unsurprising giant hall-slash-corporate mini-mall.

Jolly jazzy-jazz blared forth from the speakers, filling the room with jarring holiday merriment; the music got me in a seasonal mood, but hundreds of sweaty, spandex-clad people made it seem like Christmas in July. We wandered around as booths were quickly set up; healthy corporate America had come a-swaggin’. A tent city of dairy queens handed out chocolate milk, while volunteers handed out bananas next to them. Fruit cups were thrust into our path, as were power bars and water bottles. I walked past a booth for sampling liquid flavored energy — pomegranate! lavender! lime! — and thought, ‘All this swag for wrecking the human knees? How awfully sweet!’

From there we headed to Belltown, in the direction of Etta’s Seafood, wherein my brother works his culinary magic. With time to kill before the reservation, we walked through Pike Place Market; however, I never last long with a Sur la Table across the street, so the Esq and I booked it in that direction. A quick jaunt through the store turned me into Homer Simpson — popover paaaaaans, drooooooool — and I added a few things to my Christmas list. Our family brunch afterward was delicious; I had Dungeoness Crab Eggs Benedict, which rocked my fuzzy socks off.

I came home and wondered what it would take for me to do the half-marathon. This time, my list of three looked different:

1. Outfit the mouth with a junk food bouncer. Pay holiday overtime after 7pm.

2. Increase heart rate through movement, and not just zombie films. In other words, exercise.

3. Buy action-specific sneakers. Use them for training and/or fleeing during zombie apocalypse.

(Runner up: Get support.)

I’m not committing to anything; there are some things I need to research before declaring I’m fucking insane. I’m sorely out of shape, and know that reversing the flow of carb overload is a slow and deliberate process. But I know I need a change, and also a goal. This could be the goal I’ve been cravoiding! That’s craving and avoiding, for those of you new to word hybridization.

Or maybe there’s not enough oxygen getting to my brain and I’m having some kind of stroke. That actually makes more sense.

Written by sn0tteh

December 6, 2010 at 10:30 PM

Posted in Uncategorized

5 Responses

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  1. If you really want to pursue that very sweaty course of action, I suggest starting the Couch to 5K program (free training podcasts on iTunes) to get you up to the first three miles. There are half-marathon free training programs too, but I never looked beyond 3.1 miles.


    December 6, 2010 at 11:22 PM

  2. I just ran my first half, and would love to chat, if you’re interested.


    December 6, 2010 at 11:52 PM

  3. I think I would die. But, go you!!! Awesome post, funny as always – and honest – you know I like that in a girl. Also: word hybridization, never heard of it, do it all the time, love it. For the record, I think you have way better odds at successfully training for and completing a marathon than Sarah Palin has for being articulate.


    December 7, 2010 at 9:31 AM

  4. Don’t listen to the other commenters! Stay away from the light! The light is bad! It will give you shin splints!


    December 7, 2010 at 4:54 PM

  5. […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Marika Malaea, PlanetMarathon. PlanetMarathon said: RT @marikamalaea The Sky Is Halfway Falling, or, what it would take for me to run a marathon: (blog post) […]

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