In 1967, Kathrine Switzer officially entered the Boston Marathon, which was an all-male event at the time. Two miles in, race officials caught their mistake and one of them tried to remove her from the course. Switzer's boyfriend intervened on her behalf:
She finished the race but was later disqualified. (via mlkshk)
And then -- it was mile 23 or 24 I think -- my forearms started cramping. I didn't even think I was using forearms. And then the crusty dried salt caking onto my face somehow got under my contacts. And my thighs had started chafing so I had to curl my shorts up inside themselves. So, in a few miles, I had gone from a runner, to a powerwalker, to this squinting blind torture victim.
If you're running on a treadmill in Bismarck, North Dakota or Flagstaff Arizona or while orbiting the earth, are you really running the Boston Marathon?
For those unlucky enough not to get a slot, running in a marathon can be achieved by buying somone else's bib or just photocopying a friend's. Bibs for the upcoming NYC marathon are going for a few hundred dollars on eBay and Craigslist. (via clusterflock)