Mile marker one

I've had a lot of people text me and send me facebook messages asking me how my half marathon went yesterday. I had planned on waiting until tomorrow to post, but thought I'd give a weekend edition.

As my core followers know, I have been battling a nagging foot injury for a couple of weeks now, but with a few exercises and some Naproxen it wasn't bothering me nearly as bad. So Saturday, I took extra special care to do the necessary stretches and take my medication before the run. I got there a bit early to register and make sure my legs were warmed up.

As we lined up the start line I couldn't have felt better. My foot was hurting a little bit, but not enough to bother my stride or my times. I was stuck in some traffic for the first mile, but as the herd thinned down I found myself in a good pace and started to chip away at the ten minute first mile I had just run. As the first few miles ticked off, I noticed that I was right on pace for my sub two hour run. Mile one, ten minutes, mile two, eight-ish minutes, mile three nine minutes. This went on until the turn around point at mile five. As I approached the turnaround point my foot started to aggravate me a bit. So, just before mile six marker I got this feeling like someone had just driven a stake into my heel with a hammer. The pain when I would land on my right foot was almost unbearable. I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice but to walk the next two miles, killing my sub two hour goal.

The way the course was laid out, at around mile eight, you were right at the finish line if you turned left, if you turned right, you made the final five mile loop to finish the run. I thought very seriously about stopping and not finishing the run. As a matter of fact, when I got there I had already decided I was finished, but some unknown force pulled me right and I started to lightly jog to the top of the hill to the eight mile marker. The thought of not finishing really devastated me. I had a goal of finishing in two hours, I didn't want to NOT finish. So I ran the next five miles in some of the most excruciating pain I have ever felt in my entire life. There were several hills to run up and down and at the next mile marker I noticed that I had just run a 14 minute mile. The last few were very slow going to say the least. As I got to the top of the last hill I could see the finish line and the marker that read '13'. As I saw the marker, I also saw Amanda. She had to work Saturday morning so she wasn't there for the start, but other than the time keepers, she was the only one standing at the finish line. Seeing her there was just as sweet as finishing. As I crossed the finish line, I noticed I had beat the cutoff time by five minutes, finishing in 2hrs 55 mins. Then I collapsed in pain. For the next few minutes my foot throbbed and stabbed.

Today I wake up and I can't walk on my right foot. I am now hopping on my left foot everywhere I go. As I sit here writing this post, I am planning a trip to the weekend after-hours clinic to have them look at it. Although I'm glad I finished the race, I now think it may have been a bit foolish. Ah well, I have  until April to heal up.