Week Three: Avoid Marshfield Zombies

This past week was pretty smooth on the running front. The weather was beautiful, the strides were easy, and the beer was cold. Yes all in all, a good week, culminating in a weekend at Marshfield Mass, where I relaxed on the south shore hugging the sun and slurping down cocktails solely designed for summer. Everything was clicking until I cracked the binding on a new book called "The Strain," about a virus threatening NYC, turning everyday civilians into blood sucking vampires which scared the summer right out of me. Why couldn't I have picked up The Devil Wears Prada, or The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants? Great beach reads, says Amazon.com Instead I went to bed the first night wondering how much force the human head can take before it cracks like an egg. (196 pounds) As I slept that night I dreamt about running at night along the Marshfield beaches enjoying the cool clean air until I noticed creatures in the dark appearing from the dunes and water around me. I ran more frantically and like all monster dreams the ground became deeper and more difficult to move in. The monsters geared for an attack smelling my fear, until looking down I saw a machete and a grenade launcher on the ground. I shot those demons right back to dream hell and laughed at my success before slowly transitioning into a dream involving Dan Rather eating a giant bowl of spaghetti.

Marshfield

Don't run at night!

I ran the next morning, with plenty of sun beating down on me, and no vampires in sight. Marshfield looked beautiful and the run came off better then I expected holding an 8 minute mile throughout, though I don't plan on keeping that speed as the miles get longer. That night, I played trivia with Hannah's family at the local bar. A: What did the erection of the Eiffel Tower replace as the tallest structure in the world? Answer below.

We also sung karaoke with the locals, I'm not sure if my version of Lisa Lobe's "Stay" will be remembered, though Mary, my 60 year old groupie might disagree. Hannah made Bono proud with "The Streets have no name," and although I awoke with a few marks on my neck the next morning, I think I survived the night.

Next weekend is 9 miles.

Answer A: The Washington Monument