Big Man, Big Race, Big Apple

My brother is fat. Okay, okay, he's not "fat" or "obese," but he's also not svelt. He's not unathletic - far from it; he used to play professional volleyball in Europe - but let's just say his "playing-weight" days ended around the same time people were just getting over the Y2K scare. Since then, he's hovered around the 230-250 mark. In other words, he's the fattest guy that'll ever kick your butt all over a volleyball court.

My brother hasn't run in a competitive race since "Slick Willy" Clinton's second year in office. Even then, his longest event was the 800m.

My brother's idea of a "carbo loading session" ends with a hangover.

And yet, running gods bless him, he's set out to run in, and finish, a marathon. Three days from the starting gun, he's a registered, legitimate, I'll-have-a-race-bib-and-everything entrant in arguably the most famous marathon in the world, the ING New York City Marathon.

Adding to the mystique that surrounds this underdog tale of "he's gonna do WHAT?!" is the fact that he didn't even have to qualify. Along with salary, bonuses, health insurance and cool Dutch associations, the great finincial giant ING also offers their employees free, unqualified and unimaginable entrance to their sponsored coup de grace. So nobody knows if he can even run a mile, let alone 26.

Of course I'm going to NYC to watch! You think I want to miss him going number 2 while running mile number 20? You know how tired he's going to be Sunday afternoon? It'll be my only shot at revenge without fear of retaliation for a childhood of older-brother-beat-downs - when I get my shots in and run away, do you really think he's going to give chase after running a marathon? (All younger brothers out there know, however, that I still harbor an irrational fear that even after 26 miles he'll somehow muster up an unworldly strength just to smear me into the sidewalk and keep the streak alive.)

But all kidding aside, who isn't rooting for my brother? Because if HE can become the fattest man who'll ever beat your a** in a marathon, it'll open the floodgates of inspiration for a fast food nation that truly needs it.

I'll be blogging all about the race, the city, the madness, the Lance sightings, the hurt, the glory and of COURSE the free booze in the ING hospitality tent here. Stay tuned...