The Presidents entertain the crowd between innings at Washington Nationals home games with a race around the field. I don’t know who will win the Undie Run, but I’m 100% certain it won’t be Teddy.

You might think it’s ridiculous to have foam-head Presidents accompany you in a race, but, as today’s headlines remind us, “Foam a friend to runners.”

It isn’t cheap – $500 for the privilege – but proceeds benefit the Make-A-Wish Foundation.

Costumes are highly encouraged, so if you decide to do this, I expect photos and a full race report. But if you don’t think running and Star Wars go together, perhaps this will change your mind:

3:55 a.m. – I have been stretching now for nearly 7 ½ hours. I am nothing more than pudding, cased in a bag of pasty skin.

7:30 a.m. – Before I leave, I catch a final glimpse of my 11 year-old former running partner. She briefly opens her eyes and mutters, “Try not to have a stroke, dad.”

8:20 a.m. – Further proving that I have no idea how to talk to a woman, I quickly run out of reasonable topics to discuss and I begin telling Katy about the time I cried my eyes out while watching Philadelphia, and then stood up and accused everyone in the room of being monsters for not crying as well.

8:57 a.m. – Rain is cold.  And wet, too. The positive is that I can now pee myself with impunity. The negative is that the likelihood of nipple chaffing has gone up exponentially. The latter is of particular concern as I have twice been named, “Supplest Nipples” by Areola Aficionado Quarterly.

9:28 a.m. – I have conquered the hill without expelling any additional bodily fluids (it’s cold and asparagus pee is warmer than rain).

9:30 a.m. – For the record, I’m still running sub-10 minute miles. Suck it, Susan G. Komen Foundation.

The race does begin with a 1.5 mile swim from Alcatraz, but is a traditional triathlon otherwise. That’s too bad, because an event modeled on this novelty T-shirt would be much more fun.

Tunnelling would be a cool addition and make the subsequent swim even more challenging. Having everyone compete in prison-issue striped pajamas would be pretty awesome, too.

Hmmm… maybe we could throw in a “hide and seek” element at the end as well.

You’ll notice he started slow and ran a negative split.

That’s when he mistakenly followed the lead vehicle for the marathon into a right turn and up the street.

“I ran for 1:05 and then I looked at my watch and said, ‘Where is the finish line?’ ’’ Alemayehu recounted later.

James Boitt won in 1:06:41. Alemayehu dropped out.

Morale of the story: Include a sextant in your race day gear.

My favorite? “I run for a cause.”