Day One...

I glanced down at the ringing phone in my office to scan the caller ID. A 212 area code, it must be my sister. Quickly I snatched up the phone to catch up. Being 750 miles away from New Jersey, I try to create as much time as possible to connect with my family over the telephone. The conversation was fairly typical for my sister and I until she posed a fateful question.

"The New York marathon is running on Dad's birthday this year. Do you want to run it with me?"

What? I calmly explained to Kim that I can't run 100 yards without feeling faint and throwing up. Needless to say, I have let myself go a bit since high school. Now, at age 31, I am a portly 230+ lbs, hardly a long-distance runner.

In fact, I've always hated running. Even when I played soccer in high school we would run several miles for practice and found it brutal. Now my sister was asking my to run 26.2 miles with her to honor my father.

But it's more complicated than that, really. Dad is in the late stages of Alzheimer's disease. This run would be a testament to the power of the human spirit and a small sacrifice for a man that devoted his life to his family and children especially. Surely I could do this, if not for myself, than for him.

But doubts still lingered in my mind. Could I do it? Would I be committed enough to train sufficiently to perform such a grueling and demanding physical tasks. I needed a plan, if I was to do this. In all fairness Kim did not expect an answer right away.

"Think about it and let me know", she said calmly.

I immediately began researching running and racing. Specifically, I examined training programs and requirements. I finally found a program that fit my lifestyle and goals and the timeframe worked out perfectly. All the planets aligned and I decided to give this a go.

I called Kim the next day. "I'm in", I said immediately when she answered the phone, and thus began my commitment to completing this challenge.

This morning, Dec 4th, I started my training by running/walking for about 20-25 minutes. It was awful. The temperature outside peaked at around 20 degrees. I felt tight and tired. Every breath was cold and labored. I jogged and walked one mile in about 22 minutes. Pretty pathetic. But I've resigned that this is a long process. Slow and steady will win this race.

When I got home after my first workout I felt nauseated, which I expected. My legs burned and itched from the cold air. But after the ill effects wore off, I felt energized and ready for my day. "I can do this", I muttered to myself. Over and over again.

Day one is over.