FGF
a very short, extremely accurate guide to the LA Marathon edition
Happy FGF all!
Getting right down to it today, for those participating in the 85 degree LA Marathon on Sunday (wish it were me, but alas, my surgery is three days later) —and for those who will be accidentally trapped inside the course—here is your definitive survival guide.
FOR THE RUNNERS
First of all, congratulations on making a series of questionable life decisions that culminated in waking up at 3:45 AM. Not that you even slept. Because….
The Night Before
You will attempt to sleep early. You will not sleep early. Instead you will: check the weather 17 times, lay out your outfit like a first grader on the first day of school, panic that you trained wrong, panic that you didn’t carb load enough, panic that you carb loaded too much. Eventually you will fall asleep just in time for your alarm to go off.
The Start Line
At the start village you will see: someone already wrapped in a mylar blanket, someone wearing a full banana costume, someone loudly explaining their negative split strategy, someone peeing behind a portable toilet while pretending no one can see them. This is normal.
The Race
Mile 3: False confidence. You will feel incredible. You will say things like: “Honestly I think I started too slow.” You did not start too slow.
Mile 10: Running is your personality now. You will start calculating finish times and imagining telling people at brunch that you “just ran the marathon.”
Mile 18: The Negotiation Phase. Your brain begins making deals. “If I make it to mile 20 I can walk.” “If I make it to mile 22 I deserve a croissant.” “If I make it to mile 24 I will never complain about traffic on the 10 again.”
Mile 23: Let the spiritual awakening BEGIN. (Like it hasn’t already haha.) You continue questioning every choice that led you here. Why did humans evolve to run this far? Why did you sign up? Why did you tell people you signed up? WHY THE F DID THEY EVER CHANGE THE OG COURSE ENDING AT SANTA MONICA CENTURY CITY BLOWS.
Mile 26: The garbage, I mean amazing finish. Somewhere near Avenue of the Stars in Century City you will hear the finish line announcer and suddenly find the strength of a thousand caffeinated gazelles.
You sprint. You cry. You accept a medal the size of a salad plate. You immediately start Googling “marathon recovery timeline.” You curse a thousand curses as you walk in a congested tunnel in an ugly part of town to the congested beer garden as you wonder if there’s a discount code if you sign up today to do this torture all over again next year.
FOR THE SPECTATORS (Me this year. Say hi at Mile 15.7!)
Spectators are the emotional support animals of marathons. Without you, runners would dissolve into electrolyte powder around mile 14.
Good marathon signs include: “This seemed like a good idea 4 months ago,” “Worst parade ever,” “Tap here for power-up” “Leo would’ve stopped at 25.” “Run like your ex is behind you.”
Bad marathon signs include: Anything that requires runners to do math and stupid shit like “Smile if you love running.” No. Absolutely not. Stop.
As far as where to cheer, the best spectator zones have two qualities: Lots of runners and easy access to coffee. Neighborhoods like Hollywood and Beverly Hills tend to deliver both.
And if you bring a dog, congratulations. You are now the most popular person on the course. Every runner will yell something like: “OH MY GOD HI DOG” even if they have never spoken to you before in their life. Should I bring @ozzy_o_gram Sunday? Probably. Will I? Absolutely not.
FOR THE RESIDENTS (Who def did not sign up for this shit)
If you live anywhere near the route, marathon day arrives like a natural disaster that wears compression socks. At some point on Sunday morning you will say: “Why the hell can’t I turn left?”
You cannot turn left because 24,000 people are currently jogging through your neighborhood fueled entirely by gels and stubbornness.
The Stages of Resident Acceptance
Stage 1: Confusion: Why the fuck are the streets closed?
Stage 2: Mild Rage: I just need to get to Trader Joe’s.
Stage 3: Curiosity: Huh… some of these people look surprisingly normal.
Stage 4: Emotional Involvement: You accidentally cheer for someone named Jessica because it’s written on her bib.
By late morning, you will find yourself clapping for strangers running past your building. You will feel weirdly proud of them. You may even think: “Could I do this?”
Trust me from experience—sit TF down until that feeling passes.
Alright, that’s all for this week. Good luck out there LAM’ers! Hopefully I’ll be back up and running (literally) with you again next year.
Have a great weekend all.
THE SHALLOW STUFF
Ready to laugh?
Ready to smile?
Ready for your pump up song for the weekend?
THE DEEP STUFF
Ready to cry?
Ready to be inspired?
Ready for your good deed of the week?
The influencer who raised millions for 88 year old veteran Ed Bambas is doing a free 7 day kindness challenge that starts on March 9. I’m intrigued. You can learn more here!
https://community.wearekindr.com/challenge
THREE THINGS I’M LOVING THIS WEEK
BOOK: Heart The Lover by Lily King
Logline: A college senior becomes entangled in a passionate love triangle with two classmates, Sam and Yash, in a 17th-century literature class. The narrative follows the choices made during this time and their repercussions years later.
ALBUM: Hilary Duff’s Luck…or something
Honestly. it’s not great, but who cares. We love our millennial queen.
SHOW: Top Chef S23: The Carolinas
