10m on the treadmill today. Somehow it was MUCH easier than last week's torturous 9, but I still wouldn't call it fun. My sister told me we couldn't go running outside today because of the cold, but (shhhhh! don't tell her!) I totally think it wasn't even that cold.
While on the 'mill I re-watched My Best Friend's Wedding. UGH. What a terrible film. I remember the first time I watched it, I thought it was just an okay, maybe kinda cute movie, but I was feeling some irrational anger at Julia Roberts' character having allegedly gone to my alma mater. It wasn't because I don't like JR (I don't) or because I think she's not smart enough (she's not), it's because the character was just not the sort of person who could have graduated from there. A sportswriter? Maybe a peace corps volunteer or a grad student, more like.
Anyway, this time around I had a different thought watching it, which is that I am SO GLAD that the archetype of the single gay guy who rescues his doting female friends is essentially over. JR's 2nd best friend in the movie, and occasional fake fiance, is a beautiful, wonderful gay man who seems to exist only to play the harmless role of neutered husband while helping her search for love. I mean, it's unthinkable that this educated, dashing, British gay man would ever find someone, right? Or at least that's what the movie seemed to say. I immediately recognized that archetype and also realized I hadn't seen it in any movies in a few years - thank goodness.
Also, I hope to never be on a treadmill long enough to watch an entire movie again.
Race tomorrow - more soon.
MY QUEST TO QUALIFY NOT JUST FOR THE OLYMPIC TRIALS BUT FOR THE 2016 OLYMPICS IN THE MARATHON (to do this I will need to halve my marathon time)
On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"
Saturday, February 13, 2010
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