Songs I listen to on the treadmill:

Far Away by Nickelback

Thunder by Boys Like Girls

On Top of the World by Boy Like Girls

Ocean Avenue by Yellow Card

The Rock Show by Blink 182

All. Love. Songs. Suggestions greatly appreciated.

I think I've found a drive to my Summer Marathon, you know, something to keep me going.

I imagine myself in one of the most popular marathons among athletes, The Boston Marathon. When I was a tot, my parents brought me to the marathon as it crossed through our town, and when we lived in the ghetto, it was only a block away. The runners run 26 miles in the cold, sometimes raining, sometimes against mixed showers, in the cold to prove only one thing: that they could do it.

I've never, ever thought I'd consider running the marathon.

For the past three runs on the treadmill, I've imagined a prize at the end of the 26 miles.

Her.

I don't care about no cash prize or finally being the dude to beat Robert K. Cheruiyot (winner of the last Boston Marathon, and I believe all the other ones. You know him as the Kenyan with the funny shoes), or proving to myself that I can do it.

All I do is imagine myself running down the final stretch, sprinting, only running because I know she's there, and Robert K. Cheruiyot and I are neck and neck. The people are cheering, my Zune is blaring, Robert is making these loud puffing sounds that are annoying and he arms are moving so fast his sweat is hitting me which is completely disgusting, I got a cramp in my rib, my knees are killing me because the Mueller Knee Braces have met their days back at Heartbreak Hill, and my throat is cold from the frigid air. I'm sweating buckets and my body is constantly screaming swear words at me with each beat of sweat.

As me and multi-time marathon winner close in on the finish line, kicking it up a notch with a sprint, I see one face running out of the crowd.

My body forgets about the pain, that, or my brain put those nerves on hold. I pass my competitor, about to think home the victory. I was going to make history. My name would be in the papers, the TV, across the nation (even for a short 15 minute segment), and all over the state.

She goes under the tape for the winner to cross, and runs towards me.

I slow down, and pick her up in a swooping hug, feet away from the finish line, and we kiss for the first time.

Robert passes the finish line, taking the wreath woven from olive branches and the money, and wins yet another Boston Marathon.

But...

I got the girl.

We cross the finish line, hand and hand, and after a shower, I take her out to lunch.

Sure, my body's exhausted and I'll want to sleep forever, but I am NOT going to miss my first date with her!

~AA