I have a few things to say about this run and this week. Regarding today: I'm so glad Smooth came because Catherine would not have had anyone to run/pace with. I really want her to qualify for Boston and she needs to get used to doing long distances running within a minute of her marathon pace. But by the time we were at mile 3 I knew something was seriously wrong with me. First of all, I've been incredibly fatigued since last Saturday. I fought my way through 3 days of intense and scary back pain, but mostly, I wrested myself through a deeply personal, emotional and spiritual darkness for the past 2 weeks. I hesitate to write this because the blog is the place to fly my running freak flag and release my inner nerd. I am not looking for sympathy (for the 3 of you who read this). I just need to record how much of a toll this personal issue has cost my mental, emotional and now physical health. I have given too much thought, time, and energy to this sad issue. I believed time would pass, which would eventually lesson my pain. But I gave it a lot of space, and now, as in times of high stress and emotional difficulty, my throat has constricted itself and I have not been able to speak with a clear voice, or take a deep breath for almost 7 days. This happens on occasion when I speak of something highly emotional to me or before or after an important (high stress) meeting. But all of this culminated in the single worst running experience of my life. By mile 16 I was struggling to maintain 12 minute miles. I laid down twice and literally felt my extremities go cold (like shock). I was losing conciousness. I had let the girls go ahead of me some miles back and so I started looking for someone with a cel phone, and considered hitchhiking back to base. Fortunately three other runners were still behind me, passed and took the message back to Catherine to come get me back at mile 17. Walking was no relief, I could not have even walked that last mile. I know I've got to get to the doctor if this thing with my throat doesn't pass. I can't ignore not being able to breath or speak. And as with my back, it's all so perfectly psychosymptomatic to my inner struggle: I am no longer able to breath freely or speak my mind. I will do a better job of seeking spiritual solace and also mental distraction this week. This is funny though, around mile 14, I was saying a prayer in my mind, not just to get through the run, but really asking for guidance in my life right now. I had been sort of looking at the ground while having this mental devotional, and my last thought was "please speak to me". At just the moment I turned my line of vision back to the road, my eye caught a Gatorade bottle someone had stashed in the bushes along the side. The bottle was turned in just a way that the white bold lettering of the motto was the most visible thing to me. I was suddenly struck that God was speaking to me through Gatorade. The bottle said: Be Tough! | 