So I was in the city after work and just decided to jog Queensboro bridge and keep going till I got home. This would be the beginning of the a new Thursday “keep my legs busy” run sessions. This was perhaps a good 7-8 miles route. Around mile 6, a sharp pain creeped in on some bone above the arch of my right foot which actually caused me to just stop running (walked for the last 2 miles). Well that just sucked. 3 days later, I had an 18 miler on my mind. Between the pains in my knee throughout March and now this, I was quick to blame my sneakers and just wore my old ones. Let’s see what happens.
Mile 0: Here we go. Mile 2: Feeling a bit fatigued, not good, most likely the sneaker switch. Maybe the feeling will go away. Mile 5: The discomfort goes away. For the first time, I ran up the king of hills without stopping, progress! So far so good. Mile 8: I’m feeling like the man; not even tired. I can do this. Forget 18, let’s go for 20 miles, I am the marathon man. Mile 9: I almost called a cab and gave up.
That arch pain from Thursday returned with a vengeance. Whyyyyyy?! Just when I actually feel up to the task physically, my body breaks down. I’m like a car with a full tank of gas and a flat tire. This sort of thinig happens too often and it pisses me off. Am I cursed? Well before calling it quits, I decided to punish myself for a few more blocks. As any creature under physical stress, I adapted to this 75/25 perssure left/right leg technique for a few blocks, and almost at running speed, without pain… wait, hmmmm. Well then, no cab today then!
Mile 12: Can’t believe I almost gave up, I’m pulling this off. The pain comes and goes but my good leg is supporting my bad leg. Mile 14: Why is it raining?! Mile 15: Still raining, but I don’t care, must get home. Mile 16: I still think 18 is possible, but I’m getting sloooower. Mile 17: Wow, I beat my time by a minute or 2. Best 17 miler ever, but its like I’m made of Legos and pieces are flying off with each step. I waited for a traffic light to turn green and almost fell down; standing became somehow challenging with my spaghetti legs. Mile 18: It was as if I was running slower than walking speed. I’m so close, must go on, no choice, even if it kills me, kyaaaarghhh. EIGHTEEN miles!!!
18 miles down, time to rest now…