Run a marathon and people inevitably start to ask you what’s next. What feat will you attempt to top that? What challenge will you set for yourself next? What lengths will you go for the sake of accomplishment and bragging rights?
What they’re really saying is, “Hey dipstick, how many pounds of lunacy will your yet-to-harden brain conjure up next? Gonna’ try to get struck by lightning?”
I’ve wondered myself. A marathon is a mammoth undertaking, but certainly not insurmountable. Thousands of people have accomplished them, and while impressive, maybe I SHOULD take it up a notch and shoot for something even bigger. Like maybe an ultra-marathon. That’s only 50 miles, and just imagine how stupid people will think I am then.
I’ve met a few people who have run ultra-marathons, and my reaction usually is that I want to sit them down, smack them a couple times and scream, “Take up woodworking or golf! Be lazy!”
Maybe not ultra-marathons then. Maybe I should get out of running for a while. I could switch to a new sport, like surfing. I’ve been doing that on and off for the past couple years, and I really could get hardcore about it. Is there such a thing as a marathon surf session? I kind of like that pruned look I get after being in the water too long — kind of like a dehydrated 120-year-old.
Maybe skydiving. Nothing like tossing yourself out of an airplane with nothing but a handkerchief stuffed into a backpack that may or may not open for you. There’s bungie chord jumping, and I’ve always wanted to race a jet boat. I could learn to walk the tightrope, maybe with a trained cat on my head, or I could so something really crazy like run for political office.
Maybe I should attempt to climb Mt. Everest … blindfolded. Although, I’ve been watching a series about scaling the world’s highest mountain on Discovery channel, and the thought of doing anything where my fingers and toes might turn black and fall off is kind of none-too-appealing. Sure, after the marathon, one of my toenails has turned the color of a plumb, but it hasn’t fallen off … yet.
Maybe this whole experience will light a fire in me to go out and break some kind of record. There are so many records out there that can be broken, and I sure won’t be breaking running records any time soon — my race pretty much proved that.
But there are plenty of other records to tackle. Just look at Jackie Bibby, the “Texas Snake Man.” He got all kinds of media attention when he broke his own record for sitting in a see-through bathtub with 87 rattlesnakes. Me, if I want media attention, I have to write it myself. But not Bibby. He’s a media dynamo, all thanks to climbing into a tub where 87 rattlers crawled over him. Now he gets a Guinness World Record. And they were probably defanged or intoxicated.
There has to be a record I can claim. What about most diapers changed within a 15-minute span? Or most “no, don’t do that’s” uttered with absolutely no reaction from your child? What about tallest stack of recycled newspapers? What about world’s worst plaster job? What about longest streak of junk e-mail without a single message I want to read?
Most of those I wouldn’t even have to train for. I could break those day in and day out.
There are so many possibilities for me out there now that the marathon is over. So many other ridiculous endeavors to attempt.
Or maybe I don’t need another feat. What do I have to prove? Maybe I should just plop down on the sofa and watch Mythbusters re-runs until I get bed sores? Oooooh, there’s probably a record in there somewhere for me.