26 Miles at 180 Pounds

My New Year's resolution was so simple: lose 15 pounds by March 4, 2007. I've lost that much weight in as little as 40 days. But that was before I turned 30. It seems that on my 30th birthday, my metabolism came to a halt. So March 4th came, with me weighing 180 pounds. A full 20 pounds heavier than when I first did the Los Angeles Marathon three years ago.

I was worried at the start. I didn't train properly. I really ate a lot of crappy food over the past three months. But for some reason, I got to the starting line in Universal City very confident. I would hold back, and aim for a modest time of four hours, thirty-five minutes, meaning that I would have to average exactly 10:30/mile. A snail's pace.

Miles 1-16 were awesome. Best I'd ever felt in a marathon. Maintaining 10:30 was a walk in the park. Then at mile 17, I noticed my heart rate was reaching critical. I don't know why I didn't realize it earlier. Maybe it was the cockiness that comes with running a course that's mostly downhill for the first 16 miles. Maybe it was the ideal running weather, which coincidentally disappeared at mile 16.

At any rate, I struggled to stay on pace.

Then came mile 18.

Body shutting down. Must . . . have water. Start walking. Oh look, there are Dad and brother. They have cameras. Must . . . run . . . for . . . picture!

I walked the next three miles, then did my best impression of the ghouls in "Thriller" to try to run/shuffle my way to a sub-five-hour marathon. To no avail. Official time: 5:02:49.

Damned extra 15 pounds. I was so depressed after the run that I drowned my sorrows in Tecate and Mexican food in Boyle Heights. Drunk and full, I resolved to lose 15 pounds by August 4, the date of the Vineman Triathlon. Who's taking bets?

Check out the pictures my dad and brother took here.