If today proved anything, it’s that my Wild West gunfighter name would have been “Hobble-Along Hanna.”
Three fellow runners asked how I was feeling given that I was limping. One guy even said to me, “Being 50 sucks, doesn’t it?” Which means I look way worse than I feared. I guess in some ways I *am* pushing 50, but I prefer to cling to my early 40s moniker a bit longer.
I won’t bore with details of aches and pains. I’ll only say that my leg hurt from the first stride off the starting line … but no worse than the last few races. The balls of my feet and my toes would occasionally tingle with needle prick pains but never got as bad as the LA mileage. That said, I was incredibly slow for me… and only got slower as the day wore on.
In the final miles, I just couldn’t run anymore. Yes, I was hurting but no worse really than earlier. But my heart and body just couldn’t get in synch. I simply physically couldn’t run anymore. I hobble and walked the last 3 miles or so without ever taking a running stride. My fitness level has disintegrated. My stamina has been stymied by lack of training. It all goes so quickly. What had taken years to build up has collapsed in three weeks. That realization, more so than the pain in my leg or feet, was the greatest debilitation of the day… and perhaps beyond.
I’ll go see a new chiropractor/sports medicine person on Monday to see what he or she can do for me.
I finished, slower than I’d have liked, with greater struggles than I anticipated. But I finished. I’m not much worse for wear, though I am hobbling as many do after a marathon. It’s just prior to this year, it had been ages since races did such a number on me. I’m undertrained, overweight, and compromised. But I still got to the finish. So there’s that.
A few photos from along the way… and a 15 year flashback for good measure. See if you can spot the shot from days of yore.
