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I should really get a little more creative with these titles. I can't imagine they're any fun to read, but this isn't for anyone else, it's for me. That's the thing about a marathon. It's all for me. Not anyone else. I won't be breaking any one's record for long distance running anytime soon. It's my Everest. I want to climb that mountain for me because it's the hardest physical and mental test I can think of. Well, the Ironman sounds just insane. I'm not swimming and biking and THEN doing a marathon. That shit is for athletes.

The 2010 NYC Marathon was a lot of fun. My favorite marathon. I had friends and family cheering me on and a girlfriend waiting for me at the end. It was communal effort. The marathon in Italy was the polar opposite. I was all alone. From the minute I stepped off the plane to the starting line it was all me. I felt like Rocky in Rocky IV. Stranger in a strange land. I had no idea what was in store for me in Italy. Everything was a surprise. I remember jogging past vineyards, train tracks and farmhouses. I didn't know the language. Hell, I didn't even know the mileage. 42 kms sounds a bit more bad ass than 26.2 miles. I had to prepare differently for the Italy marathon. I knew I would be all alone this time, but I didn't know if there would be as many water stations (there weren't) or if they had any Gatorade (they didn't). I went through long stretches of training where I wouldn't drink anything for 5 or 6 miles. It's a good thing I did because I would have been defeated after the first 3 miles and no water in sight.

October 2011: Part One: Modena, Italy

It's been a long time in the making. Between working, dating, my new cat, writing other stuff, trying to assemble all my pictures, and my computer dying it's been a trying month or two to cook. I'll be back to my regular scheduled programming in December. Until then, please enjoy Part I of my trip to Italy.

Day 1: