So the school has a picnic every year on my birthday, or some would say, the date of Christ's ascension (40 days after Easter). Either way, this is a public holiday in Austria, and the school organizes a picnic in a park for the kids and parents and teachers.

This year we also programmed the Staff vs. Alumni basketball game into the festivities. And, as always, the staff won. The same thing happens every year. You get a few kids who talk smack about how they're going to beat their teachers at basketball. The teachers get the students to "bet" something (usually this involves shaving someone's head). And the teachers beat the students and shave the aforementioned head. It's great fun.

The day is a good time to hang out with kids outside of the classroom, meet parents, and enjoy some nice weather. When Mike realized that it was actually my birthday, he tracked down the bullhorn and made everyone sing Happy Birthday. Embarrassing, but fun.

Monday night our softball team had a game against the Mighty Barbarpapas. Yeah, I don’t know what that name means either. In addition to the game, we also spent a good amount of time swatting mosquitoes in the outfield.

I was told when I moved here that there were no bugs in Vienna. I learned very quickly that this is a myth. There are plenty of bugs in Vienna, as my arms and legs(which are now spotted with mosquito bites) can attest.

We jumped out to an early lead, lost it, then pulled ahead late and held on to run our record to 3-1. My performance in the field and around the bases convinced my teammates to chip in to buy me a pair of cleats for my birthday coming up. I have a nice bruise on my butt from trying to change directions on the slick outfield grass and a skinned up knee from slipping on 3rd base. At least I didn’t run into the fence this game.

Saturday our staff softball team had a game against Team Japan. We were 1-1 going into the game and had gotten absolutely hammered in our last game against the US Embassy team. Our team benefited greatly from their pitcher not being able to throw a strike. Seriously. Going into the bottom of the final inning, we were down 20-8 and at least half of those runs came on bases loaded walks.

With a couple more walkins and a couple dingers we tied up the game, which brought me up to the plate with the bases loaded and 2 out. They left a huge gap in right field, which I eyed lustfully. Previously in this inning I had laced a double into the right field corner. I took a first pitch strike, then received three straight balls. Though I really wanted to clobber the next pitch, I knew I wouldn't swing at it. Make the pitcher pitch. And I did.

Ball Four! completed the 13 run comeback in the bottom of the final inning to send Team Japan to a heartbreaking loss.

They say a marathon is 26.2 grueling miles of running. That's not really true. It's really about 20 miles of pretty normal running followed by about 6 miles of increasingly difficult running. And it's not necessarily grueling because you're short on breath, it's more because your legs start to get really sore and cramp up.

The weather was perfect for running: about 15 degrees C and partly cloudy. There was music blaring from from speakers placed along the course and live music at several other locations consisting of drums, cowbell, and acoustic whistle. At least that's all I remember. I will now make my obligatory "More Cowbell" quip auf Deutsch. "Ich brauche mehr Kuhglock!". I should also point out that the acoustic whistle is a vastly underrated musical instrument and is a key ingredient in any successful boy band. Also among my musical highlights were "Walk Like an Egyptian" and "Eye of the Tiger." Nothing like a little Rocky music to keep you going…

I was feeling pretty good through the first 31km before my legs started to pain me. More than 2 and a half hours of running had taken its toll. It was then that I started countdown mode. Or rather tried to calculate how much time I had left. This created such complicated equations as: If a marathon is 42.2 km and I'm at 36 km running 5 min. km, how much time do I have left to run? This is the kind of thing I would think about for about 2 minutes before I would ultimately give up and decide to try again on the next kilometer marker. I did this for 3 or 4 consecutive kilometers before I figured it wasn't worth the energy I was expending trying to figure it out in my head. In case you're worried about my mathematical abilities, please note that the brain consumes loads of carbs to function, and well, my carbs were being used to run. I never was good at multitasking anyway.

Kilometer 39 was a gut check. My hamstrings started to cramp and I had to shorten my stride in order to keep the cramping at bay. Fortunately there was a water table set up at the 40K mark, which is just what I needed to kick through the final 2km. Well, kick isn't probably the best word, more like slug through the final 2k. Along the way I tried to encourage myself with such thoughts as "Only 5k to go", but these thoughts didn't actually help at all. Turns out there really isn't much that's motivating after running for 3+ hours.

The only thing that really motivated me that last 10k (besides some friends of mine cheering me on) was the 42km marker. As soon as I saw that I really did kick all the way through the finish. Once over the finish line I resisted the urge to sit or lie down, consumed large quantities of water, and met up with my friends before hobbling home.

All in all a good experience. Would I do it again? Maybe, but not anytime soon.