OBX marathon.....again?

Not so fast my friend......okay really.....not so fast!

So yesterday was absolutely ridiculous. Ridiculous to think I could do it again this year. Last year, I accomplished three marathons in eight days. NYC on Sunday, celebrated my 52nd birthday on Friday. RVA on the following Saturday and OBX the very next day. The hopes to accomplish this twice, at least the two back to back was more than I could handle. Richmond last year was nearly my best time ever…..by a freakin 13 seconds…..yes. That’s what I said too. However the next day at the OBX I had beat my RVA time by 10 minutes…..yes! But my time was 9 point 8 seconds away from beating the five hour barrier. Hey! I never said I was fast! All that previous success matters not 365 days later. Your body forgets the success and only remembers the pain it currently feels. And that was exactly what mine felt. I wasn’t sure I should even line up….? But I had traveled all this way, checked in and now only had a few miles in front of me. Okay…..stop joking myself. 26.2 miles is always tough…..tough for us weak ones. I started off and decided to work it slow. No sense in pushing too hard. Well I quickly felt the chill in my bones and the aches in all of my joints. I pushed but this wasn’t going to be be good. Regretfully, I elected to stop after nearly ten miles. I knew the next 16 were going to be brutal…..and I was hoping to do the Philly marathon the following week. If I stop now, I would be able to pull myself together and make Philly happen……or I could push on, struggle, perform poorly, possibly injure myself…..certainly depress myself. So which is worse? Be depressed because of a poor performance and mess up the remaining of the year. Or just kick myself for stopping……I hate quitting. This year has just been a battle on all fronts for me. In a marathon, part of the battle, if not most of it, is mental. Are you mentally strong? Physically is one question but mentally is needed far more than just strong legs. Mentally, I have been weak this year. I know, I’ve dashed your hopes in thinking that I was a 53-year-old Superman. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be this year. Recycle and return again. More training, more focus, more perseverance…..just more….. I’LL BE BACK! But now…..I’m going to go eat breakfast.