Scott Bowden presents Kentucky Fried Rasslin

Marathons assign you a number–just like in prison.

As some of you may recall, I survived the 2010 LA Marathon with a time of 5 hours, 22 minutes, 23 seconds. I’ve been training the last several months in preparation for this year’s event, but something inside me has prevented me from signing up for the upcoming race on March 20.

Some may call it fear. Some may say it’s common sense. Deep inside I know it’s thoughts of that feeling around mile 21 last year when I muttered to myself as my knees buckled, “I am never fucking doing this again. I am NEVER fucking doing this again. This is so stupid. Stupid!” That, combined with the concern that I may again suffer the dreaded “runner’s knee” (think of an icepick penetrating your kneecap when you attempt to run) during training as I did last year has also left me hesitant to commit.

I received an e-mail yesterday informing me that that 20,000 maniacs have signed up for the 2011 LA Marathon, meaning that this year’s event is on pace to sell out again. I ran seven miles after work last night and considered my decision. I woke up today at 4:15 a.m. and by 4:30 I was signed, fate sealed: I’m in. Not only that, but I’m also determined to beat my 2010 time by at least 35 minutes.

I figure if Jerry “the King” Lawler can challenge for the WWE championship at age 61, then I can damn sure run another marathon at 39. Even if that means I have to pull down the proverbial strap at mile 21.

Wish me luck. And promise me you’ll look after my wife if I don’t make it.