Night before

The three days before the marathon one is expected to "carbo load," especially the night before. Over the years I've come eye this gorging as stupid—it causes me too much distress. I eat plenty but in no way overdo it. However, tradition dictates a pre-marathon dinner, just to celebrate. I met with Ron, who decided to not do the marathon this year; Jeffrey, a friend who was also doing the marathon; and Cherlyn, Jeffrey's girlfriend (and not doing the marathon). We ate outdoors at Manna on Amsterdam Avenue.

Ron says he is going to do the marathon next year. He said the same thing last year. However, he’s just bought running shoes. Go, Ron, go!

Jeffrey was to walk the marathon accompanying his over-70-year-old father. They would start two hours ahead of the regular marathon start and we estimated that I might catch them in Central Park and perhaps we would all finish together.

Cherlyn is a dancer and at Ron’s apartment after dinner she evaluated my foot with her very experienced eye. A lovely woman in many ways.

She had more to say than any of the many podiatrists I've been to. She showed me exercises that should help me build up strength.

Back home I pinned my number and name on a singlet. “Timo” is in honor of the Mets right fielder, Timoniel Perez who was a sensation in the National League Championship series this year.

And I gathered everything I would take with me and laid it on the floor. I didn't want to have to search for anything in the morning. Then bedtime!