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The hip felt OK, and as the minutes to the gun ticked down, nerves faded into resolution. Nothing I could do now but run until I couldn't anymore, and hopefully that would be no less than 26.2 down the road.
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Would the hip hold out? Would some other malady keep me from the finish line? I wrote about it afterwards. scholvin.com/posts/2024/1...
scholvin.com26.2I knew it was hopeless. At 3:15, I reached up to turn on the little halogen lights in the headboard, then reached over to pick up my phone and turn off the alarm. 5:00 would get here soon enough. That...