By Mary Paoletti
Let's say you're Geoffrey Mutai. You're from Kenya.
You really like running. Mostly because you're really good at it. It's also cool that your friends all run, too.
Since 2008, you've been asserting runner dominance all over the world. You've won three marathons, one half marathon, and have been on a winning senior race team. Wikipedia also tells us that you were third-place finisher at the Rotterdam Marathon in the Netherlands. Not bad.
But you wanted Boston.
You practiced in Kenya -- nothing crazy, just 130 miles a week. Still, you worried.
Boston is not so easy as other marathons, you told the Boston Herald on Saturday. I wont push the pace, but I will try my best. The weather is not so bad, you said. Its the wind that is always the trouble.
Big, big trouble.
You win the Boston Marathon in 2 hours, 3 minutes, 2 seconds. Your time is the fastest anyone has ever run the 26.2 mile distance. Ever. And it's a pretty big deal because there are, like, a lot of hills and stuff. The people in charge consider calling it the Mutai Marathon because you own it.
So you've got that weird wreath thing on your head, you're giving the thumbs-up to all the photogsand mulling over your general awesomeness...
...when some weenie in windpants from "track's international governing body" walks over to you. He leans in close, poking himself in the face on your wreath thingy.
"Um, Mutai? It doesn't count."
"What?" you say. You're still smiling. You're just so awesome.
"Your time. It doesn't count as a record," he says. He won't look you in the eye.
The question makes sense. I mean, you just busted your ass for 26.2 miles. Seriously. You literally just finished running 26.2 freaking miles. People complain when they have to drive 26.2 miles to visit an aunt. Running all that way was kinda fun, but it was mostly work and your nipples are chafed.
You are Mutai. You want that record.
"Yeah, um, it was really windy today. And the course is downhill in parts" he trails off. You imagine ripping off his face. Making him run 26.2 miles in those windpants would probably hurt more. "So, yeah," he continues. "You still won and everything. It's justthe tailwind. Yeah."
Hey! Go run a marathon! Your reward for being the best is a karate chop to the throat by "track's international governing body." Mutai (you) looked happy to win, but getting a record DQ'd because of something you can't control? Gross.
Granted, I know absolutely nothing about running (except that it's evil), windpants, or Geoffrey Mutai. Maybe he likes breaking records and having them discounted.
But I doubt that.