It's funny. Nita just posted today about post-marathon life, how the pain doesn't end at mile 26.3, but stays with you for days, makes it near impossible to walk downstairs, makes sleep difficult due to aching legs. The first few mornings, I inevitably wake up in bed, needing to use the bathroom, but dreading it because I know my legs will ache and walking will be so painful. A shuffle is the most I can manage first thing in the morning.
After a half, however, with a shower and cup of coffee, I'm good to go. I'm completely functional and none the worse for the wear. A full though, has me out of commission for the better part of a week, and I'm just done with it.
Next stop: marathon retirement!!!! I'm going out in a blaze of glory in Chicago amidst nearly 2 million spectators. Nothing can top that! The next week I'll have fun with Detroit because it's already paid for, then I'm making the switch to halfs.* It's a long enough distance to be challenging, but not so difficult as to interfere with things most of us take for granted, like walking, or sleeping right. I've figured out how to run a half at a sub-10 pace, so my next goal will be a 9:45 average pace, and keep whittling down the time until I'm consistently well under 2 hours.
Yet how can I feel a little sad about abandoning something that has destroyed my body so consistently and so often...? It's torture at the time and I can't wait for it to end, then I look at my medals and get a little mushy inside. Kelly figures I'll reconsider by next week. idk she may be right. Or maybe I take off a full season (spring or fall). I've been training for spring and fall marathons in 2012, 2013 and 2014. Maybe a hiatus instead?
*Caveat: Obviously I'll keep entering the New York and Chicago lotteries, and run a full if either race accepts me, but otherwise, been there, done that. Next!