• As you probably know by now, Brazil's Gomes dos Santos won the men's side of the New York marathon yesterday in a massive upset; Jelena Prokopcuka of Latvia defended her women's title. Lance Armstrong came in 856th. And, in a rare moment when the cliché actually makes sense, a good time was had by all. (Yuk yuk yuk.) [AP via NYDN]
• The Post, classy as ever, Photoshops a noose on Saddam's neck, as Republicans furiously milk the dictator's curiously well-timed death sentence for last-minute gains. [NYP]
• Jury selection begins in one of the weirdest murder trials in recent history: A one-legged Long Island man shot an arrow at a stranger he found threatening, piercing his heart and killing him. The alleged bow killer, although caught on the run, is pleading not guilty. [amNY]
• The Intrepid sails off! The museum ship — as familiar a fixture on the West Side as the Lincoln Tunnel, at least for the last few decades — is heading to Bayonne, New Jersey, for repairs. Eighty-eight-year-old Rear Admiral Lloyd Abbot Jr., who commanded it more than 40 years ago, will serve as skipper for the short journey. [WNBC]
• And Jeanine Pirro gets a late endorsement for attorney general where it counts: from the New York City Department of Correction Columbia Association (an organization of Italian-American prison workers). We don't even know which joke to go with here. [Empire Newswire]
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So how does a team of French chefs in town for the marathon prepare for the big race? By eating, of course. But we're not talking old-school, spaghetti-dinner carb-loading. No, these guys — sponsored, we kid you not, by the French tripe council — are spending three days wolfing down enough butter and cream to keep us from walking much farther than to the bathroom, let alone running 26 miles. Their full gastro-itinerary? Josh Ozersky's got it at Grub Street.
French Chefs Prepare for New York Marathon With Eating Marathon [Grub Street]
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Some 37,000 masochists will hit the city's streets Sunday for the New York City Marathon. Everyone — even Rosie Ruiz, these days — knows runners can't hop on the subway. But are there other rules governing the race? You bet your itty-bitty spandex briefs there are.
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