Somewhere in the execution of today's 26 mile run today I made a mistake.
It could have been what I didn't eat last night.
Or what I did eat.
It wasn't the first eight miles that clicked off nicely at even splits from 10:45-11:15.
It very well might have been miles 9 and 10 when I joined my Sunday bunch and got caught up in their freshness (10:15 and 9:34).
I remember attacking a hill with too much gusto.
Mile 11-14 were okay at 10:30 paces.
Then my left hip started hurting. I crumbled through miles 15-18 at a halting pace accompanied by Chris and Christy. After 18 miles I turned off for my final eight, a reversal of the earlier morning jaunt. Then my hip and gasping lungs asked me to slide by the house for some Zip Fizz .... before taking a six mile loop around Baldwin Park.
By the time I reached the Zip Fizz I was 0.2 miles from my house and I said better to heal and run tomorrow than die today and regret it.
I have managed five 20 milers through this training run-up and I know I can go the distance. It just didn't have to be today. In three weeks it matters. In Chicago.
Notes. Christy took a wrong turn again this morning or else Father Jack had a bout of sometimers. They both turned into a cul de sac around mile 9 ... I signed up for a 15K race next Saturday. I am going for a PR if my hip loosens up ... I see Julie to work on it on Wednesday.
In remembrance. This afternoon I attended a memorial service. Think back to your college days. You must have had that one professor who turned the lights on for you in your head, right? I bounced through three majors before finding an inspirational man who sucked me into the study of philosophy and religion. It taught me how to think and write. Dean Wettstein was my hero. He even co-officated at my wedding (we had a triple-header). He died in May and today was his memorial service at the college. Nobody cried. We all nodded our heads ... remembering all that he meant to us. Thanks Arnie.