The Scene of the Crime

Last week I was returning home from a basketball game when I turned down a familiar street.  It took me some time to recognize where I was.  Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, it was the scene of my Thanksgiving disaster.  Crossing over the 85 bridge reminded me of the horrible morning of cramps.

I had been doing my training for three months leading into the race.  Then race day came and I felt strong.  I arrived at the race with plenty of time to avoid the anticipated traffic and have time to let the stress of getting to the race subside.  I had eaten a strong breakfast and I was mentally prepared to complete this race.

Then, just past the eighth mile they hit, and they hit hard.  CRAMPS!  The worse cramps in my calves that I have ever felt.  They were so bad intense that I could not even handle the idea of running downhill, yet alone the remaining hills that were ahead of me on the course.  I had no idea of what to do, of all the bad things that had happened to me on a run or even on race day, THIS was an absolute first.  I ended up walking the last five miles of the race, barely able to limp over the finish line right into the medical tent.

And finally, after a month of loathing and feeling depressed about my effort, I finally hit the road again just before Christmas.  My weight had ballooned a disaster 16 pounds in just three weeks.  And unfortunately my running has not yet gathered the strength that it was did.  I have been suffering through bad weather changes which have led to several bronchial infections.  So I am hoping and relying on the cross training that I have been doing to help.  I have lost eight pounds so far this month and am looking forward to being able to return to a somewhat regular routine within the next week or so, fingers crossed.

But I can definitely admit that seeing the scene of the crime was and is a great motivator for me to get back out there and prepare for the next race.

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