Stray photos from the Big Beach Marathon in Gulf Shores, AL.
It was a tough day, a day when I felt defeated and deflated and unable to run. The closing miles were 11, 12 minute miles or more. I would run 30 seconds and then wave off the speed, struggling to even put one foot in front of another. The rain stopped before the start which was a blessing a curse — it was unbelievably humid and had there been rain maybe my tears of frustration and angst would have been better obscured.
As I said yesterday, my heart just wasn’t there. I actually kinda felt twinges of panic attacks — despite being outside and running along the bike paths and walking trails of the beach town, replete with many mini golf courses along the gulf coast, I felt like the world was closing in on me. I had trouble catching my breath, whether through frustration, exhaustion, or something more calamitous, I cannot say.
I finished but I was passed by many; I finished but I was passed the point of caring. I just wanted to go home. And seven and a half hours later, through at times torrential rain and with no less than three near sideswipes from poor drivers who couldn’t be bothered to stay in their lanes, I eventually did pull into my garage. It was a long weekend, one wherein I skipped sightseeing in favor of trying to sleep off the germs and miles. Perhaps next race I’ll be better.
And despite the heartache and hardships, there will be a next time. Run Kevin Run indeed.
