Crazy 8, Day 2

Yeah, this text message exchange just about sums it up.

Halfway through my marathon, that little jab in my foot turned into a Bedrock sized JAB-BA DABBA DOO! Oh boy, did that jab dabba dabba hurt. Yes, out of nowhere, I threw in a Flintstone analogy into my race report. I am sitting here reading that opening line over and over again and am not really sure if it's a hit or a miss. However, because my legs and brain are so fried, I'm just going to go with it.

Because this course was 13.1 miles out and back, I couldn't drop! I had to get to that finish line in order to go home! By mile 20, I knew I was toast, but I kept plugging along. The worst part was I kept my ride waiting. If I had driven myself, then I would have just had my little meltdown and kept going. However, I kept Ace out there waiting for me until way after sun down. I finally crossed the finish line way after 5pm, and Ace and Chewbacca were there cheering me on. I felt so bad. Ace was such a good sport about it. I told him no more marathons for the rest of the week for me. 13.1 will suit me just fine.