The Black Knight of Marathons

Okay, so we all know that my right foot has been giving me fits trying to get ready for the Boston Marathon. Thankfully, I've been going to see Lino and he's worked wonders. Thanks to Lino, I got in two solid weeks of training (stop laughing) and began to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunately, that light was an oncoming train and it arrived in the form of a seized left calf. Is it too early to call marathon a trian wreck...sorry, I couldn't resist that one. Anyhow, Lino made room for me yesterday and really gave my calf just what it needed . 

So I get up, put what's left of my dignity in my pocket and head for the door when I run into local running stud Andy Harris. I've always been happy that Andy is usally in the "next" age division. Andy had blown a wheel and was there to have Lino fix him up too.  Suddenly it dawned on me. As I approach 40, I no longer have my running reunions on the trail, they're in the office of my somatic practitioner (translation: guy who repairs old runners). With all of the ailments I've experienced leading into Boston, I've become painfully aware that I'm not 20 or 30 anymore. I've been bouncing from one ding to the next. This is certainly new to me. I'm staying confident that I'll complete the marathon, but there are days when I feel like the Black Knight.