I walked three whole miles today, on the treadmill, after flying cross-country the day before, and a three-hour delay on top of that. On my day off. May not mean much to you, I don’t know. I went to see the National Treasure sequel at the AMC at the big mall in Arlington the other day, and they had a trailer for some documentary about a marathon and the people who ran in it, and the tagline was something about how the marathon experience changed your life — how you woke up one person and went to bed another. Don’t know about that, don’t want to know. But nobody running a marathon ever worked harder than I have doing this hundred miles. You have to do a marathon faster than what I walk, and you have to do it for a lot longer, but you don’t work any harder, and you sure-God don’t push yourself any more than what I do. I believe that, if I don’t believe anything else.
Ninety-seven miles down, three miles to go.