I love the chance to be part of something big and cool like the New York City marathon. So this weekend, I jumped at the chance to volunteer in one of the medical tents just past the finish line. First, we packed bags of ice.
Don’t I look all smart and sassy in my hat? Like the kind of person you’d turn to if you needed emergency medical attention. Or maybe just some ice for your gin and tonic.
Oh, and here are my friends Adam and Anna working hard too. How fun do they make this look? I mean, if you’re going to fill hundreds of bags with ice, you want to be hanging with this couple.
I have always loved the New York marathon because it’s so inspirational and energizing. If someone can run 26.2 miles, just imagine what I can accomplish. Anything really.
But wait, I just need to lay on the couch and watch this new episode of “Lipstick Jungle” first. And then, I swear, I’m totally on it.
My job during the race was to take injured runners and escort then to the proper area for their specific injuries. Runners had severe cramps, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, blisters, nipple bleeding (apparently from their shirt chafing their nipples while running) and on and on.
Seeing all these runners in agonizing pain made me kind of wonder if running 26 miles is really such a brilliant idea. The body doesn’t seem to like it very much.
There were runners from all over the world but the French were definitely my favorite. Because as soon as they cross the finish line, they pull out a cigarette. Now that’s a commitment to smoking. For all I know, they smoke during the race too.
By the end of the day, I am completely drained, hungry, thirsty and really longing for a bathroom where I can actually sit down.
But heck, at least my nipples aren’t chafed. So I think I’m doing alright.
And, in case you hadn’t noticed, that’s two consecutive posts without mentioning the election. And we’re almost to the finish line.