I Married a Marathoner

Bear with me; I do have a point.

When I was pregnant, the Canuck graciously took over all recycling duties in our household. This is a particularly odious job, which involves hauling all recycleables down to the smelly basement trash room, sorting the paper, plastic and glass, breaking down boxes, and tying up all the paper, per our persnickety co-op rules. After I had Muffin, I just kind of continued to coast on that job. If it came up, I'd point out that I birth the babies, so he does the recycling. And believe me, he was sooo getting the better end of that deal.

One thing you may not realize is that having a baby is the ultimate trump card. Really, what can top labor? What's scrubbing a toilet next to contractions that hurt so much you have to focus on not dying to get through them? He was never going to be able to top that physical feat, and I knew I was going to have a get-out-of-jail-free card in my back pocket for as long as we both shall live.

Or at least that's what I thought. See, yesterday, the Canuck finished his second marathon. Since his first, in 2001, he has worked the marathon into conversation at every opportunity; he even -- I kid you not -- got it into our wedding vows. To overcome his Canadian modesty to toot his own horn...well, it just goes to show you how hard it was to finish and how proud he is of himself. Since his first marathon, he's been saying, "I run marathons - that's what I do." And now that he's finished #2, that is technically as well as figuratively true. He must be doubly pleased with himself.

I cannot imagine how he finished. I can live through labor, but I don't think I could make it through 26.2 excruciating miles of running. Even Lance Armstrong was whining about how it was the hardest thing he'd ever done. The most painful day of my life produced our child, but what does a marathon yield for us as a couple? Well, while the Canuck can say he runs marathons, I can say I married a marathoner, and how many people are lucky enough to get that kind of athleticism in the gene pool?

You got me, babe. One marathon was impressive, but two? You've upped the ante, and my only hope of gaining the upper hand again is to bear kid #2.

So now I just have one question for you, Marathon Man.

Should I get the paper or the plastic?

To see more photos from the NYC marathon, click here. (And thanks to John for taking these photos!)