last action-packed marathon<\/a>, this marathon will really give me nothing to blog about. I know all the ins and outs of the marathon. I know the tricks. I’m fully prepared. I’ll have nothing to write but, ‘I ran my second marathon and I had a time of XXX.'”<\/p>\nWhich is how I jinxed this marathon. Yes, that’s right. This marathon is completely jinxed for me.<\/p>\n
Let’s start with the sinus infection. I’m feeling probably 80 percent better. But that doesn’t bother me as much as the words of my doctor, which keep running through my head. “You may not feel healthy enough to run. You may not feel healthy enough to run. You may not feel healthy enough to run.” The power of positive thinking right? Yeah, right.<\/p>\n
Then there was the missing registration card. The ING site said, “All U.S. registration cards will be mailed the week of Oct. 13.” So I waited. And waited. No card. Where is my card? The card that is essential for getting my race number at the expo? No card. Then, this week, an e-mail arrived that read, “If you didn’t get your registration card in the mail, you can use this e-mail,” which leads me to believe they didn’t mail all the cards out. Okay, that’s all right. Taken care of.<\/p>\n
Then I called the hotel this week to confirm our reservation. Oh, they had it all right. For twice as long as we had intended on staying. Thank goodness I called because they had us down as arriving on Thursday. Can you imagine how thrilled I would have been had I shown up on Friday only to find that they not only charged my credit card the $358 for Thursday night but had since given away our room? Okay, that’s all taken care of. We should be good for our Friday arrival.<\/p>\n
I printed out my registration card and took a good look at it for the first time. There I was. Yep. Jennifer Brown. Age 38. It’s me. But wait? No bus pass? I know<\/i> I signed up for a bus pass as it’s the only reasonable way to get to the start line! What a pain in the neck. I’ve got to make sure to remember to buy a bus pass at the expo instead of nicely and conveniently having it printed on my bib number.<\/p>\n
I know, I know. You’re thinking, “This really isn’t all that big a deal. You’re stressing over nothing.” Which would be true if it weren’t for the final thing. The ultimate jinx. The voice-from-above “I gave you plenty of signs you shouldn’t run and yet you ignore me” jinx. <\/p>\n
I took a closer look at my registration card. I noted my bib number. Last time I ran my bib number was 47474. A nice high number because I had put down a very slow predicted race time. No biggie. But this time my race number is W409. That’s odd. Did they change the numbering schematic? And then I look one more time. There it is on the side, in all caps. “WHEELCHAIR START.” Um, hello? HELLO!!!! I DON’T THINK SO! <\/p>\n
I e-mailed the New York Road Runners, of course, and I received back a lovely terse e-mail that read, “Our records indicate that you signed up as handcrank when you applied. pls. go to the help desk at the expo.” No, I did NOT sign up as handcrank. I may be<\/i> a handcrank but I do not use a handcrank and I fully intend on completing this marathon on my own two feet. I have tremendous respect and admiration for wheelchair runners; I’m just not one of them! <\/p>\n
While it’s certainly provided much fodder for the household banter (“Do we have plans for next Wednesday? I want to go out for dinner with a friend.” “Well, I suppose it’s okay. I’m sure I’ll have managed to navigate bathtime in the wheelchair by then”), it’s turning me into a stress monkey. Which in a way is good, because I’m not stressing about the race itself. But it’s one more hassle to deal with and I find myself being extra careful when I run because I’m convinced I’m going to break a limb. (Again, the voice from above: “You wanted a wheelchair start? Well, I’ll give you a wheelchair start!”) Adam’s convinced it’s no big deal and they’ll fix it at the expo but I’m pretty sure they’re just making me go to the help desk to publicly humiliate me and strip me of my running shoes. <\/p>\n
One big jinx. And for those of you in NYC, come watch me. You can’t miss me. I’ll be the only wheelchair runner not in a wheelchair.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Let me say this off the bat: I completely brought this upon myself. I have no one I can blame. I placed the curse upon myself. I had the gall–the gall, I say!–to think to myself, “Wow, after the last action-packed marathon, this marathon will really give me nothing to blog about. I know all […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-506","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/506","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=506"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/506\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=506"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=506"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=506"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}