The first three miles, all downhill, was 21:40. I knew I would pay for it later, but it was so easy and effortless, it seemed illogical to make an effort to go slower. I was just running the speed that the downhill grade permitted.
The second three miles, mostly uphill, was 23:18. It felt like I was paying for all my past sins. I cannot describe the depth and breadth of my agony. My mind was a bottomless pit of despair as I never saw the 4-mile mark, or the 5-mile mark, which might have given me some glimmer of hope that the pain would be finite.
At the 6-mile mark I saw a seeded runner collapsed on the side of the road receiving aid from a medic. I envied him as his misery was over.
Yeah, it was that good.
The mile plus walk/jog uphill to the Marta station was icing on the cake.
The mile minus walk/jog back to the car from the Buckhead station told me I am not in good enough shape to be running a 46:26.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I would be pleased if you would read my blog and leave a comment here. I refuse to beg; it’s too demeaning.