So I did my longest pre-marathon run yesterday. I like to peak at 20 (for those of you who didn't put 15+5 together in the last paragraph) around four weeks before the marathon and then taper into the low teens until race day, which is for my increasingly slow self no longer a "race" but "race day" makes it sound like I'm some kind of athlete.
And my training group? As you may recall, it started out even bigger than this (we never got everyone together at once) last spring:
But after tons of injuries, a lot of summer-travel training disruptions, a few
And that's probably good, because everything hurt so damn bad that I couldn't stop whimpering through the last three miles. And since I was whimpering in rhythm (step, step, step, unghh, step, step, step, unghh) I'm sure I was more irritating than ... well ... a Glenn Beck opinion.
But I somehow finished and I somehow got myself home and I somehow filled up the hot tub that 99% of the time we hate having because it's hard to keep clean ... and I somehow convinced myself there's nothing even remotely inappropriate about posting this picture of me soaking away the pain in whirling spearmint-scented bubbles: