Feel the pain
.... Mile 25 and I'm running when I shouldn't be running. Everything hurts, back, lungs, legs on fire, the Boston qualfying bus passed, but if I could just raise enough energy I could catch t. Brain calls to my engine room and the message comes back "I'm giving it everything I got, Cap'n". I keep pushng through when a sudden pain of acid fills my foot, the blister that was building since mile 8 gave way. I limp a little, but with less than a mile this isn't going to stop me. Passing mile 26 there are 385 yards to go ... round a corner and it is a long ramp with a mass of people lining the sides. The ramp goes up into the distance and round a corner hiding the finishing line. This must the cruelest marathon finish ever! I receive a cheer from Katy's mum and a few steps on I was shot in the middle of my left hamstring. This is not the suspect right hamstring pre-race. I think I saw a puff of smoke behind a grassy knoll. Magically, I could not see the exit wound and perhaps it could have been a cramp. I stopped, started to walk with the crowd encouraging me. I figure I could hop the last 200 yards. "Cone on, you're nearly there, not far to go". These are the same words of support I'd been hearing for the last 10 miles. Bless em, but mile 18 isn't "nearly there". I tried to raise my last jog/shuffle and I made the finish in 3:24. I lost a few minutes over the last mile or so. As I could hardly walk through the finishing area, I knew there was nothing more I could have done today.