Set up on my own at the start looking to find a group to run with. Wasn't sure if I'd run with the 3:10 group or not. Found some guys trying to run a 3:15 but I wasn't quite sure about them. Heard the 3:10 race pacer talk about "EZ" pacing while we were running the first mile. His plan sounded like mine so I hitched on. It was perfect, perfect, perfect. Felt great until miles 17 and 18. Started to fall back bit by bit. Its one thing to notice your pace falling off at the mile markers but it is so much more disheartening when there is a physical representation of your goal time slipping away like watching those damn red and white balloons get smaller and smaller. My muscles were seizing up and I tried my best to get beyond it. It became a mental battle to keep my focus, keep going and recalculate what I could slow to in order to keep my BQ time. The two overpasses before Hollywood studios took care of that though. Oy. Felt like I was doing the old man shuffle. I must've have been going fast for someone though as some idiot decided to draft off of me in the middle of all this. I was pissed. At that point you want a running partner not some tool drafting off you. But I'll say this. I did not walk one step.

Hydration was odd. Frozen water cups. I was crunching my way through the water stations. And speaking of. Glad I was running toward the front. Water was freezing on the road. Nice. Had ice all over my gloves from anything that spilled. Once the sun came up it got slightly colder as the wind chill dipped with stronger winds.


Not much.

Nothing. I must have looked in bad shape cause I got immediate attention from one of the shoot volunteers. She made sure I could keep moving. I said I was fine. I got my mylar blanket and medal and walked to the rail to compose myself. I don't want pity or a pat on the back but this was a tough race to swallow for me and even tougher result and that's all I'll say about that.


I had pretty much rock solid training and planning going into this race. I think I know the glitch. After all these years I'm just now understanding what I need to conquer this damn distance. I also blame Tweedledee and Tweedledum. What are those things? Are they twins? And what's with the 1950's fat guy high wasted pants? They creep me out. And I swear one of them shot me the two finger pointy I'm watching you thing. I don't think I'll be going near that T-Cup ride again anytime soon.


Thank God for Jen. She is the worlds best supporter (and wife of course). I needed a shoulder and someone who understood and she found me right away at the end. Plus she helped me re-tie my shoes;) I couldn't bend over then and 36 hours later I still can't - I got me a big case of "you're walking like you crapped your pants" syndrome.