An Announcement

For the past year and a half, I’ve been trying to convince myself to apply to the Johns Hopkins non-fiction writing program. My work has tuition reimbursement, 85% up to $3,600, or something like that, so it’d be cheap. And the classes are held right down the street. And several of my co-workers take classes there, so I’d be in good company. And it would teach me how to be a better writer, which, in case you haven’t noticed, is a goal I claim for myself.

So yeah. It hasn’t happened. Apparently, writing an application essay is waaaaaay too overwhelming. I mean, that would require, I dunno, writing something. Which would be work. And I’d much rather, you know, not do work. Except when I’m at work. Not that I’m really ever that busy at work, either. But rather than, like, being productive in my down-time, I’d much rather read blogs about random strangers. Like this one woman who’s struggling with infertility, and is now trying to have a baby with a surrogate. Or this other woman whose high-functioning autistic son has been making incredible progress.

You know, stories I can totally relate to.

The thing is, the stories are very well written, and totally inspiring. Like, if my son had autism, I’d completely have renewed faith that I could help him overcome it. And if my uterus were deformed, which, who knows, I’ve never really checked, I’d be totally inspired to find a surrogate who could carry the baby for me. I mean, this woman’s surrogate sounds really fun. But, of course, I’m not exactly at the “let’s have a baby (through IVF) (who may be autistic)” stage in my life.

Still, there was the blog of the woman whose first novel was just published and who just finished the first draft of her second novel (under contract with her publisher). But reading that one, I just felt awed and kind of jealous. Not really spurred to action.

But I have a new plan, guys. And yes, it may have been inspired by some stranger’s blog, but this one really spoke to me. And I don’t really understand it, because it’s basically a total aberration for me, but I’ve got to go where my heart tells me. Or run there, as the case may be.

I’m gonna run a marathon guys. In Alaska. In June. That’s 26.2 miles (and yes, that point-two totally kills me, but who am I to argue?).

And since this is totally unprecedented for me, I’ve decided to document the experience here. Plus, I’m going to need your help.

More on that later.

(For the record, I do read some journals written by men, they just didn't make as funny examples.)