SANTA SAYS >>>>

It's no secret.  This round belly shakes like a bowlful of jelly.  Mmm, jelly ...  Sorry.  Where was I?  Oh yeah, I'm fat. 

I'd embraced my state of contentment with gluttony, that is, until one fateful Christmas Eve. Taking a breather from the chimney chore, I plopped down on a futon inside a home at Salmon Beach.  As I was reaching for a third cookie when the darn thing came to life. 

"Were these laced with more than sugar?" I wondered. My mind was moving low.

And that was my introduction to the Gingerbread Man. It seemed 10 feet tall.

It popped up from the cheeseboard with great amusement and proceeded to challenge me. "Run, run, fast as you can!  Can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man!" 

Dude, I was trippin'.

Even weirder, the antics of modern day runners popped into my head. I've been watching via my magic snowball the over-enthusiastic bunch out of Tacoma run every Thursday. You know the ones. They run three miles, and then drink six beers.

Why do people need to run? It's as if logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead.

Well, after meeting the Gingerbread Man, I now understand. I couldn't catch it.

I decided right then and there - collapsed on the dock - to make this cookie crumble.  No way, this is NOT bringin' a Claus down.  I committed myself to catching it.

I started training.

In the beginning, it sucked candy canes. Then I hired Frosty. Once that magic hat hits his noggin' - his form is outstanding and pacing impeccable.  He's more of a sprinter than a distance runner.  Understandable, since he's made of snow.

As the weeks of training progressed, I slowly started realizing I wanted to run farther distances.

I'll be a gumdrop - I began to take a liking to it. I even like it on Facebook.

Frosty surprised me with an early present - a secured spot in the Seattle Rock and Roll Marathon.  Apparently, this race is sold out every year.  The jolly happy soul didn't want me to miss out.  Ah, shucks.  He looked as alive as he could be.

Frosty says the course is complete with live music at every mile marker. Sweetness!  I love nifty jingles. 

It's rumored the Gingerbread Man will be there - donning its bowtie and bells.  

I'm going to eat your head, Gingerbread Man. Eat your head.

[Seattle Rock and Roll Marathon, June 23, $115 half/$125 full through Feb. 12, proceeds benefit American Cancer Society, website]

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