As many of you know I've been battling a knee injury. It's mostly just a fatigued ligament on the right side. Anyway I was advised not to run the race and that if I felt any pain to either stop or walk. So I did the Santa 5K to break the world record for most Santas in a 5K with Jim (Aikidoman) on Saturday, which was fun, but that inflamed the knee. It didn't hurt but was kind of whiny, like me.

So then the 'thon:

The pain started at the mile 1 marker, no joke. I figured if I could maintain a steady 8:15 pace I'd be good to go. It got progressively worse until about mile 10.5 when you have to decide whether to go straight and finish the half or turn right and do the full. I'd resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to be able to finish 26.2 so I'd planned to do the half.

At the last second, though, that twinge of pride hit me and I made the right turn through the cones much to the chagrin of the course marshal for the long haul. I hooked up with this dude named John, an Army retiree, and decided to slow it way down so as not to kill the knee yet still finish in a somewhat respectable time. He was 52 or 53 and was keeping me going -- great guy and one hell of a runner. He said it was his 24th marathon. He'd done three iron races and was a 10-hour finisher. His best marathon, he said, was a 2:49:00.

We ran past lots of Elvi, a couple showgirls and one chica who probably figured `Well I'm in Vegas, I might as well look as slutty as possible, even during the 'thon.' Except the muffin tops, and I mean EXTREME muffin tops, were in full effect. I usually don't judge people's choice of garb considering I wear lots of spandex, but dayum.

Miles 10 through about 19 were on a slight upgrade, probably just a couple percent, but after a while it got old and I really grew tired of it. Also, it's a false flat so you don't realize that you're actually running uphill. Anyway we made it to mile 20 and turned around to head back down to the Strip. We could see the Mandalay Bay from that point, which was nice. So we kept running and kept chatting.

I stopped at a portapotty and then had to run to catch up to John. In fact I stopped twice during this race to pee. Thankfully there was no blood in the urine and it was pretty clear, so I knew I wasn't dehydrated. What? TMI?

He was slowing pretty good at about mile 22 so I decided at 23 to press on to try to break four hours since my knee, at that point, was in pain but not terrible.

At mile 24 something happened and I could no longer bend my right knee. So I just kept running as best I could, kicking out my leg and swinging it around and in some cases dragging the foot, which slowed me down considerably. Two women with `Medical' shirts asked me if I was OK and jogged next to me for a bit and basically told me to stop at mile 25. At mile 25? Really?

That last fu**ing mile felt like 10. I swear it was way long, but I came around the corner and finished. I had NO final push whatsoever but came across in 4:00:50. I was pretty disappointed I didn't break four hours. It's my second-slowest marathon behind Chicago 2007, when it was 100 degrees and humid.

But oh well, I wasn't too upset considering it was less than a month after the ironman and I was, after all, in Vegas, where I should've been going to bed at the time the marathon started.

So, yeah, that's the exciting story of it all.


Not run. Also I should've had whisky the night before. I'm totally slacking on my traditions. So lame. SO SO LAME!

I saw Clint (wearing his DONKAI jersey after crossing the finish line). We went to medical together as his hammies were locked and my knee was fu**ed. They gave me Tylenol and wrapped my knee in ice. After a few minutes we left the med tent and hobbled off. I saw Mrs. Kido and got a photo with her in her full Vegas garb.

Schmize called and I wanted to meet up with him and Holly and Terri and Clint but I had to get back to my hotel to get my stuff out before they charged me an extra night or something. So I started the death march back to the hotel for lack of cabbage. That's cab-age, I guess. Whatever, lack of a ride back.


Bad knee. Didn't you read the RR?


The only thing I didn't like about the race was the lack of `exit strategy.' I guess there's not much the RD can do about that, though. There were no cabs and I ended up hobbling the three or four miles back to my hotel, which sucked ballzack.

Oh well. I'll be back next year. This course is mostly flat and fast and I know if I don't have a fu**ed knee I could totally tear it up!