Fool me once . . . shame on you.
Fool me twice . . . shame on me.
I ran my second marathon today in Pittsburgh. If you have never been to Pittsburgh, let me sum it up for you in one word: HILLS.
There’s a Hill District. There are the North Hills. There are the South Hills. Here a hill, there a hill, everywhere a hill hill.
I know it’s not possible to start at one elevation and end at the same elevation without equal amounts of going up and going down.
But I went up hill a lot more today than I went down. I broke the laws of physics. I don’t know how. But I did.
Why did I run a second marathon?
The origin of the modern marathon is rooted in ancient Greek history.
In a nod to Greek history, the first marathon commemorated the run of the soldier Pheidippides from a battlefield near the town of Marathon, Greece, to Athens in 490 B.C.
Apparently stupidity “ran” rampant even in 490 B.C. (See what I did there?) And history apparently repeats itself. I ran a second marathon. Shame on me.
What is often forgotten in that historic legend is this:
Pheidippides ran the approximately 25 miles to announce the defeat of the Persians to some anxious Athenians. Not quite in mid-season shape, he delivered the message “Niki!” (Victory!) then keeled over and died.
He DIED! I obviously trained better than he did, as I have survived. Barely. I am walking with a limp. I’ve been having some Achilles tendon problems (another Greek myth/legend! Damn those Greeks! Damn them all to Hades!) And like any obsessed devoted runner I more or less ignored it. Most days the discomfort went away after 1-2 miles. I didn’t rest, ice, compress or elevate. I ran through the pain. I loosened it up!
It does not feel loosened up after 26.2 miles. What the Frick in Pittsburgh was I thinking?!
My heel is angry with me. It is punishing me. I would kick it if I could but it hurts too much to do that.
Notes from the race:
Despite the pain, I finished in 4:17:59. Good for 52nd place in the 50-54 division. For what it’s worth, I ran in the Asics Gel Nimbus 19 today. I ran in the Brooks Ghost 9 in Philadelphia. Think I preferred the Brooks, but the data may be complicated by my Achilles issue.
There was a threat of rain but it never rained. With an average temperature of 55 degrees and no burning sun, it was actually a great day to run.
With the threat of rain, however, I thought the crowd turn out was a little less than in recent years. I didn’t actually count them, but it seemed like there were fewer people cheering me on. The energy level just seemed more subdued. Maybe I was distracted by my pain.
No really memorable signs along the way. May the Course be with you. Liked that. The “If Donald Trump can run so can you” signs were out in full force. It was funny. Give it a rest. Maybe you should tweak it . . . “If Donald Trump can WIN, so can you!” Also, the “This is the worst parade ever!” and “Did you think they said RUM?” signs are a little passe. One lady who I kept passing for some reason on and off–one of us was time warping–had a shirt that read “Have you hugged your lawyer today?” I have not.
I’m not saying I will never run another marathon, but I may need to be senile to do that.
theeyelife 