This whole blogging thing is a bit of a parasitic relationship: I, as the blogger, situate myself on a digital soapbox and you, as the reader, are forced to read my narcissistic ramblings/unsuspectingly click on dangerously adorable photos.
But the time has come to change all that. In an attempt to enter a more symbiotic era, I’m going to use this space today to give one lucky reader something slightly more tangible than unsolicited running advice (and significantly less tangible than a bar of gold.)
I’m giving away a Golden Ticket into the 2012 Marine Corps Marathon.
Don’t fret – I haven’t backtracked on my previously announced plans to log 26.2 miles this October in my first-ever marathon. Indeed, within minutes of returning to my parents’ house after securing my own Golden Ticket on March 17, Ethan Hunt and I hijacked a laptop and used my secret entry code to register for the sold-out race. (Too obscure of a reference? No? Good.)
But I wasn’t the only member of my immediate family to cross that 10K finish line and land a coveted Golden Ticket entry code: my sweatily wonderful mother was along for the ride, too.
And despite her clearly non-hereditary affinity for 5 a.m. Body Pump classes, she’s decided a marathon isn’t in the cards for her this busy year, giving me the opportunity to offer her entry code to one lucky reader: YOU. (Or maybe someone else.)
The daughter of lawyers, I should probably mention that winning this code doesn’t offer free entry into the race, but it does give you one of a handful of remaining $92 slots in this highly sought-after event. Golden Ticket registration only lasts through March 31, so let’s get started.
Here’s how this works. There are three ways to enter, and feel free to do all three for three chances:
- Leave a comment with a question you want me to answer in an upcoming blog entry (yes, I am actively looking for new ideas. No, I’m not ashamed.)
- Tweet this: “@rileduprunner is giving away a Golden Ticket to the sold-out Marine Corps Marathon!” And then leave me a comment telling me you shared it. (Yes, I am on Twitter. Yes, I am ashamed).
- Bake me a pie. And then leave me a comment telling me you did it. And then deliver said pie to my inbox (i.e. mouth).
I’ll use a random number generator to select the winning commenter at 5 p.m. Friday. May the odds be ever in your favor!