|Marathon 33 - Boston #2||Story*Training*Injury*Schedule*Spectators*Statistics|
I had planned on taking a month off following Huntsville, to give my hamstring (and general psyche) a rest.
My first runs back in Early January were effortless, and I had a reasonable training schedule for Boston laid out.
On January 15th I "strained" my back sledding. It didn't get better. After 2 weeks, and a Doctor visit, I was still in pain, and unable to run. That's when something really bad happened: Sciatic pain, down both legs. Bad enough that I couldn't stand. Or sit. Or lay down. It would take me 30 minutes to transition from one position to another.
A trip to the ER, and an X-ray didn't show anything. I Scheduled an MRI for 2/15. I said to the Tech: "I know you guys can read these as well as any doc... I need to run 12 miles this weekend... tell me is I can." She refused, saying it was illegal for her to tell me. When she pulled me out of the MRI, she said: "Don't run on Sunday."
"MRI: There is a large herniated disc with extruded fragment at L3-4. This is severely compromising the spinal canal and obliterating the right lateral recess at this level."
2/18, A visit to the Orthopedic Surgeon, and Micro Lumbar Surgery planned for 2/22/05
2/22, An incision is made, and a hole drilled thru the bone, and using micro tools, the surgeon removes fragments and repositions the disc. 6 weeks before Boston.
After a week, I could walk on a treadmill. After 2, I could Fast-walk 2 miles. By 3 weeks, I could slow-run 3 miles.
I got a run of 6 and run of 9. No pain, just no conditioning.
2 Weeks before Boston, I ran my last long run to 15.
Standing in the Corral, I saw the Crazy Shopping Bag woman from the Hartford Marathon (and MCM) and her pet squirrel. I have filed a restraining order against her, preventing her from running within 50 yards of me.
Another warm day was going to make this one hard to start with. I started off well, with splits in the 9 to 10 range.
At mile 15, God Smote Me. My times Degraded quickly. Hot, and Queasy, and although I had some energy left, my stomach wouldn't let me get more than a few minutes in a row. By mile 20, I was walking far more than running. Passing the Aid stations was draining, seeing the downed runners. I didn't want to stop, fearing they would pull me from the course.
I borrowed some rolaids from a spectator, and plugged along.
I finished upright and "running," but quite displeased by my time. While I was able to push my "wall" for 11 miles, this isn't going to go into my books as a favorite run of all time.
Updated April 19th, 2005