My brother has a problem. He wants to write a blog but — aside from the occasional witty, over-the-top funny post — has trouble finding the time to actually sit still and type on a regular basis. (As such, he was dropped from my blog roll. I know most of you access meganrunning from Google Reader, but for those of you who actually land at the URL, I have a rule with the blog roll. If you don’t post at least once a month, you get kicked off. Even if you’re my brother. It’s a bit harsh, I know, but them’s the breaks. And I should probably mention that there’s no actual “deleting.” I just change the link from public to private, and then if a new post shows up in Google Reader I turn the link back on. I just have this pet peeve for inactive links.)
I have a problem. Occasionally, I have disagreements with the Internet that cause me to abandon the blog for days at a time. More frequently, I’m boring as dirt and don’t feel like subjecting you to a story about the cat chewing the shoelaces off of my running shoes. I do feel bad about leaving the blog unattended, however, and occasionally daydream about having a reliable “blogsitter” to ease my guilt.
Hmm…methinks that these two problems could have the same solution. At any rate, we’re going to give it a try. My brother Matt — known as everything from Lil’ Brudder to Brother Matt to Other Brother Matt in the comments of varous posts — has created a WordPress account and been granted guest author privileges. He may write posts from time to time as his schedule permits, and as he’s an amusing guy currently living and running in another country, I think you’ll find his posts entertaining on a couple of levels. And if not…try not to say anything mean. He’s just a little guy, and you might hurt his feelings.
By way of introduction, here are a few more things you might like to know about my bro:
He is, in fact, not a little guy. He’s a giant. I was looking for a picture that adequately illustrated the height differential and then I realized…ANY picture adequately illustrates the height differential. Yes. Well. So. Here is one at random:
He’s an extraordinarily talented runner, being a multiple-time, multiple-event state champion; competitor for a Division I track & field and cross country program; and current member of a fancy-pants running club. Like so many of us, however, he’s not immune to crises of motivation or injury.
He loves a good challenge. It doesn’t even have to be running-related. Husband often explains this tendency to people by saying that those crazy feats people are typically offered money to perform — drinking a gallon of whole milk in an hour, for example, or fitting through a wire clothes hanger — my brother will respond to with, “that? I’d do that for free!” And at different points during his adolescence…he has.
There was also this one time in high school when we ran around the “City Lake.” Sometime during the run, Matt picked up two big rocks and carried them back to the track. He said it would make him tougher. In addition, he planned to use it as an excuse to get out of setting up the track for an upcoming meet. (For some reason, the scrawny distance runners were always tasked with dragging high jump pits and hurdles into their correct positions. I’m not entirely sure why we were chosen for this assignment…) When Coach would say, “hey Matt, go help move the high jump mat,” Matt was going to say, “I can’t. I have these two rocks.” Fool-proof argument, that. Well, when we returned to the track the coach for the college team saw Matt and questioned him about the rocks. Matty said, “oh yeah, I ran with them. Want one?” He gave the coach a rock, and for all I know it’s still in his office. Almost immediately afterwards, however, our coach came by to wrangle up some slave labor. After being asked/told to go help out, Matt readied his witty response — “I can’t, Coach. I have these two………..uh-oh.” His expression was priceless.
Oh, and I call him Matty. Sometimes even “little Matty.” It was supposed to embarrass him, but it never really did. The name stuck, though.
And that’s Matt. Matt, everyone. Everyone, Matt. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.