Armchair Athletes

Stanislaw Ponte Preta used to say that television is a machine for driving people mad. Little did he know what was coming with the invention of the Internet.

Dear reader, don’t believe anything that’s announced, promoted, or published (except for my blog, of course). This morning, I read in The New York Times that there’s now a website called Fake My Run, dedicated precisely to this: faking, inventing the results of your supposed runs.

My warning is aimed especially at the respectable crowd who run—whether just to improve their fitness or to take part in road races. These events are increasingly common, especially the most prominent of them all: the Marathon. In London, New York, Boston, Tokyo, and other cities, tens of thousands of people take to the streets to see whether they’re truly ready to face the 26.1 Mile challenge.

But those who aren’t—or can’t even manage five kilometers—can still bask in the glory of a supposed achievement. You simply stay home, reading the newspaper or picking your nose and—bam!—your accomplishments show up gloriously online, complete with the distance covered, a route map, your pace, your passage through various checkpoints, your heart rate, and your triumphant finish—under the delirious applause of the crowd or just the indifference of a stray dog, if it were merely a training run.

I’m stunned by the news. To properly digest it, the only thing I can think of to do is go out for a real run to clear my head.