Holler back, young one

Twenty miles today!

I was prepared to battle the whole time and lose all enthusiasm for the marathon by day's end. Instead, I felt good-to-great, finished in 2:33:37 (7:41 pace) and with a 20th mile of 7:05. I attribute this to excellent sleep, more frequent water stops, a sunny but cool afternoon, and the consumption of two energy gels -- one at the beginning, one after 12 miles. Also, lots of lasagna late in the week probably helped, carb-wise.

In the final 50 or 60 meters I felt an intense runner's high, but the good feelings ended 50 to 60 meters later. I unsmartly ran a route that had me finish one mile away from my car, and that one-mile walk probably took 20 minutes. I'm just going to come right out and complain, since nobody's forcing you to read this: my legs have never hurt so badly in my entire life. I had to stretch two different times before I trusted myself to operate the pedals of my car.

So I came home and weighed myself -- 163 lbs. Probably lost 7 or 8 in the course of the run. I haven't weighed myself since I scarfed that Gordita and Grilled Stuft Burrito at The Bell, but that's because I'm not getting out of bed until it's time to make dinner. And -- frick -- it looks like it's almost time to make dinner.

Go Tiger Woods, Go Phillies, Boo Steady Job, Boo Constant Tornado Warnings. Go Moxie, Go Mojo, Boo Earmites in Ears of Moxie and Mojo.

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