|Endorphin Dude esta poseido por el diablo!!|
|It's like the never ending climb.|
|And more climbing.|
|Even more climbing.|
|Now there's the understatement of the day!|
|Simply breath taking. Yes, El Diablo sucked out all the oxygen out of my lungs!|
I'm just going to cut to the chase. This marathon nearly killed me, and I mean that in the very literal sense. By the time I got to mile 17, it felt like the blazing hot sun burned through my skull and fried my brain. I became very dehydrated and dizzy. I had to beg hikers for food and water when my H2O supply and GU ran out. The longer I stayed out in the open field, the hotter it got and the weaker I became. Nonetheless, I kept chugging along. When I hit the mile 19 mark, my body couldn't take it any more, and I collapsed in the middle of the trail with nobody around. With the little energy that I had left, I lifted my head off the ground and unleashed a technicolor yawn so intense that I felt my whole body rock. It was at that pathetic moment that it hit me: El Diablo made a milquetoast of Endorphin Dude.
A few minutes later, a nice local couple pulled over to fill up their water bottles and saw me looking like I was near death. The woman inquired if I was ok and I sheepishly responded, "No, I'm dying here." After I said that, I thought to myself, "Hmm, I don't want this lady to think that I'm literally dying here," so I rephrased my sad situation. "I'm feeling pretty awful. I'm at mile 19 of my marathon and I just don't think I will be able to make it." The nice couple graciously offered to give me a ride, and I happily accepted. Because I had no idea where the finish line was, I asked them to take me all the way back to the summit because I knew where to go from there. I got in their SUV and stretched my legs out the best I could, as I knew that I would have to walk another 2.3 miles to get to that second aid station. Sitting in that vehicle with the air conditioner blasting in my face gave me enough energy to bounce back, at least for the 2.3 miles.
When we reached the top of the summit, I thanked the couple for the ride and dragged myself down to the aid station, where I was greeted by the only volunteer left. As I approached the station, I noticed him quickly pulling out his phone to notify the race director that I had been located. Apparently, the reason why the park ranger was not at his station was because he was on his dune buggy searching for me! In any case, the volunteer gave a ride to the finish line. Of course, I had to leave my final mark on Mount Diablo by hurling on the side of road multiple times due to car sickness. Once every ounce of that evil el diablo shot out of my system, I came to the sad conclusion that I had to accept the fact that I DNF'ed at Diablo.
I did receive a consolation prize in that the race director gave me credit for a half marathon. While it's nice to have this race count toward Half Fanatics, it clearly does nothing for my Titanium quest. I took a big risk this weekend and in the end it cost me dearly. Not only did I DNF at Diablo, but I also DNS'ed at the NorCal Marathon the following day. After my Diablo exorcism, there was absolutely no way I could have run that second marathon this weekend. In hindsight, I probably should have just rested on Saturday and save my legs for the Sunday race. I took a huge gamble and it blew up in my face. At the end of the day, I limped away with zero marathons this weekend, a devastating blow to my Titanium quest. This does not bode well for me, one week before the biggest hurdle of the year: the Tahoe Triple. It is what it is, live and learn. Even my dog felt bad for me.
|Life is ruff ruff. Sorry Endorphin Dude.|