- Compose a blog about it. People are way more likely to do something if they read a blog about it. Ask anyone who’s ever eaten a salad out of a mason jar.
- Include a really sexy image.
- Remind people that really, it’s at the perfect time of the year. Lots of half marathon training schedules are 18 weeks long, and the Flying Pig is the 18th Sunday of 2016. It was MEANT TO BE.
- Try to avoid the words “marathon” or even “race.” Tell people it’s a lot more like a long, thin, sweaty party. That you have to train for.
- Wax the tiniest bit poetic. Talk about the fact that training for The Pig is a commitment to feeling spring arrive.
Your short runs will be in January, slowly crunching through the dark. Then, you’ll slop through February. In chilly, gray March, when you’ll rejoice in the equinox, the slivers daylight that last long enough for a run in the light after dinner. There will be a warm snap. You’ll wear a t-shirt. You’ll see April, and pull on shorts. And when was the last time you celebrated May Day? I can promise you, Flying Pig Participants, you’re going to feel really great on May Day. - Remind people that walking is a totally acceptable – laudable, even – method for completing a long, thin, sweaty party. So is running slower than molasses in January, in Manitoba, going uphill.
- Be empowered. For the love of all that is holy, do NOT use the word “skinny.” Do not fuel the toxic cacophony of judgmental voices telling women how their bodies should look. Running makes you strong, makes you respect your legs, irrespective of their commercial value. Running helps you flip the middle finger toward the throngs that tell you that legs are merely for fishnets. Running teaches you that your legs are for going places, fishnets optional.
- Keep it real. This is a time commitment. For a half marathon, you’ll want to get out there 3-4 times a week. If you’re just starting out, you’re looking at 10 miles/weekly. You’ll go up to 15-20 miles per week. If you have a leisurely pace, that’s 2-4 hours every week. Less time than you probably spend on Pinterest, probably, but certainly not insignificant.
- Think of a really catchy slogan, something that will make people want to sign up for this crazy idea, just to get a t-shirt that says something so incredibly witty on the back. Something self-deprecating, funny but friendly. (Bonus for double-entendre.)
- You’d run, too, if you had this many kids
- I heard there’d be wine
- Taking it slow
- Where is that #$%#ing gingerbread man?!
- Don’t mention the hills. Seriously, leave the hills OUT, or you’ll never get any traction.