Getting back to Boston

Hard 4 at MAFC, as close to "MP" as I can manage right now, which was right around 8:30. Closest thing to a hard run since I bailed on that half in March in Bentonville.

Decent progression run, sub 9 average at MAFC after work.

Until run at the gym, interrupted rather quickly.

Longish run at WAR with Rose, Lalita and three others. Couldn't tell it had rained yesterday, other than the humidity is up -- which is what kicked my butt after about 8 miles. Ended up doing 11.6ish in 2 hours and change, mostly walking the last three miles. Then I got called to work within two minutes of the end of the run. In 50 hours, I'll be on the plane. Wow.

Getting on the plane for Sweden in four hours. I should be excited, nervous, whatever. Instead, I'm somewhere between numb and heartbroken. Jen was arrested last night. Won't get into the details, other than to say it's something that I was afraid was going on, suspected might be going on, but didn't want to know. But it was, and she got caught redhanded with a guy she's now dating (along with me). It's a felony. She's apparently done it before. And it violates her probation, which was going to end this week. So she has royally, royally screwed up.

I'm sad because I love her. I'm angry because she is so self-destructive and made such bad decisions. I wonder if this guy influenced her to do this, or if it was her idea, maybe to attract him. And I wonder if there's anything left between us, or if I want there to be anything left. And I cringe at the thought that somehow I might get sucked into this mess somehow.

So, with all this swirling around, getting ready to go to the airport. Maybe it's good that we're getting away. Jen can't get out of jail until tomorrow anyway, after her arraignment. I can't see her until after I get back, but that was going to happen anyway.

Do I care what happens in the marathon? No. Is a DNF a possibility? Yep. As is a DNS. I'll just have to see where my mind is Saturday morning. And how much sleep I'm able to get, too. 

My first ever run in Europe. From the hotel to the stadium, two laps on the track, then a short loop on the trails in the forest behind the stadium before back to the hotel. It's beautiful in the forest. Thom says if you wished, you could do a 40-mile trail run back there without any duplications, just keep going and going. It would be a hilly 40 though, and enough rocks and roots to keep you paying attention.

Wow. Just wow. That was HARD. My slowest marathon ever. I knew I was out of shape, but this was ridiculous. As is frequently the case, if I'd had any sense I would have bailed out, but I have no sense. Or I'm just too stubborn to quit. Started out trying to run 6:00/km, which worked for 10K. After that, a death march, with a whole lot of marching. I seriously thought I was going to go over 5 hours even for the 1912 distance, and I certainly would have been over 5 if I'd done the extra 2K loop to get to 26.2.

We got a break on the weather -- 65ish, but overcast and a hint of breeze. A lot of sun would have been even worse. I drank a lot, ate a lot, took my electrolytes, but the leg muscles just were not in shape for 26.2 at any pace no matter how well I fueled and hydrated. Which I knew going in; I wasn't under any illusions about my fitness. The goal was to slog through it. I hoped I would run slow enough that the legs could handle it. I don't think that was possible, though. Never went into fullblown cramps, but first hip flexors and then calves felt like they were going to explode. I had to suck it up just to run the last 2K without stopping

Jogged through central London to get somewhere in a hurry. Legs felt surprisingly good.

Jogged from restaurant to hotel and back to do an emergency currency exchange after the travelex had closed. Legs still felt ok. We had just gotten back from Stonehenge and stopped on the walk back to the hotel to eat, and the restaurant's computer didn't like my credit card. But all debts satisfied, didn't have to wash any dishes.