Next year I turn 40. In running, this means I enter a slightly more realistic category for a BQ time and I enter the “Masters” category for road races; I really don’t think either of those matter much for me.
In life, it means I am getting more gray hair and feeling older. My kids asked in all seriousness the other day if I drove a Model-T for my first car. When they found out how old I was, my co-workers started putting black streamers on layaway and writing “over the hill” jokes in advance of my big day (still almost a year away).
I wanted to take my mind off of this milestone and try to enjoy the year. For a hot minute I thought running 40 races over a year would be an awesome, original idea that I could gift to the world (like when I learned Santa wasn’t real and figured I’d go on morning radio to blow the whistle on the greatest lie in history). Not surprisingly, it’s been done before. This guy made a nice fundraiser out of it, and Michael Wardian did 54 races (one at the North Pole) for his fortieth birthday. I’m sure others have done this as well.