so we might make a marathon runner out of you yet then Dave
Well... <deep sigh> I had almost perfect prep in the last couple of days leading to the race, felt great on the morning of the race...slightly anxious but that's normal, and quite positive.
I love the heat and always run well in it so I wasn't phased by it at all. I started off really well, I was at the green start so got across the line in about 2 minutes and had a reasonably clear run.
I went through 10k in 46.43 and felt comfortable, but in the 12th mile my injury whispered a little "hello"
and I was forced to stop and stretch it out.
I went through half way at 1.41 and was still holding out some hope of a reasonable time. But as I went on my injury was showing itself more and more, so I was having to walk for short distances between trying to run. The walks became longer and the running became shorter and more and more painful.
There was one brief moment when the thought of dropping out of the race crossed my mind, but I dismissed it.
I saw Steve on the course, he caught me up, we asked how each other was and I played my injury down a bit, hoping that it was going to ease off anytime...it didn't. Steve was having some problems but he was still going strong and I wished him luck as he ran off...adding "save some beer for me at 22"
I watched each target come and go on my watch until I got to the final one, which was sub 4.30. It was getting closer and closer so I was gritting my teeth and running in pain. The last mile was pure agony and the very last stretch leading up to the finish was akin to the same pain threshold as I experienced nearly 12 years ago when I was last in labour! But I had to keep running...
well, it was as close to running as I could manage anyway...because you just can't walk to the finish line can you! I was so relieved when I could finally stop running though, and I really didn't care about the finish photo...I certainly won't be having one, and I haven't even seen them yet, but I know for sure that it won't be a pretty picture.
My time was 4.22.35, which I was completely gutted about. I reckon I was in shock from the pain initially and then I just cried on and off along the long walk to the repat area where I met up with Rich and cried some more.
I've kind of accepted the whole experience now. I guess I should feel grateful that I was able to complete the course, in a fairly reasonable time and, apart from the usual aches and pains, and a slight trauma in my leg, I am ok today. There were a lot of people yesterday who had a much worse experience, plus one poor family who lost someone.
But I can't deny my pure frustration at this injury. I feel like I'm taking one step forward and two back. I'm no further forward on a definite diagnosis than I was this time last year. I just don't know where to turn. I really don't feel ready to say goodbye to distance running, there's so much more that I wanted to do, but it may not be my decision to make
