Susan has gone the distance...inadvertently.

My training schedule called for 11 miles today and 12 next Sunday, with a week's rest before the "big day." I gave myself the option of quitting at 11, or going to 12 if I felt good (haha). I did manage to make it to mile 12 with only one interval of walking. HOWEVER, then I realized that my walking 3/4 miles south on the canal path, backtracking from the car to get to mile marker 30 to start, and then having to walk (crawl) the 3/4 miles to get back to my car had put me over the 13.1 mile race day distance. Sadly, I was too numb to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment.

All in all, except for the unrelenting feeling that my toes were broken, the cramps in my calves, the need to stop periodically to stretch out any and all muscles related to tight and screaming hip flexors, the puky feeling from gulping down 1.5 Gatorades at mile 6, and resisting the desire to rip the ear plugs from my ear and throw my Ipod into the stagnant canal, well, gee, it was just great. Jesus NTSOG was just lovely as well, and called me every 15 minutes or so the last hour to make sure I was still alive. At least, I think it was my husband, Jesus. I was so delusional at that point it might have been the real guy.

Here are today's photographic rendering of the run:
First, at White's Ferry at Mile 6, gulping down Gatorade and still optimistic about "only" 6 more miles to go...

Here we are, thinking that we had survived 12 miles, when in fact, it was 13.5. Please note the euphoria.


And finally, back in the car, hydrated and pretending that the protesting sciatic nerve in my right leg was not making me writhe in pain...



And, by the way, daughter Becky went for her long run of 24 miles today and came back without any feeling in her right leg... so I guess the pain and misery is normal. Oh , yay. Who invented this sport?