The weather for yesterday's race was perfect: low 40s at the start, going up to the 50s, and sunny skies. Despite this and 6 months of training, I still wasn't able to beat my 3:59:50 marathon PR. No 9:00/mile average. No negative split.
Things were going pretty well for me until about mile 16. I was going through a water stop and just about to toss my Dixie cup in the trash when my right foot stepped on a cup on the ground, twisted, and landed the wrong way. One of the volunteers saw me and said exactly what was going through my head: "Oh sh*t!" I've never had to stop to walk during a marathon but my ankle was screaming and I didn't have a choice but to stop. The medical tent just happened to be next to the aid station but I knew that if I went in, it would be the end of my race. Decisions, decisions. I hobbled along for about 30' to see how much weight the ankle could tolerate. My hobble turned into a Quasimodo-like jog and I decided to give it a try for a little further to see if the pain subsided or got worst. Fortunately, the pain went away so I decided to press on even though my confidence was pretty shaken. The last 10 miles were slower since I was being more cautious for fear that I'd twist it again. I managed to finish in 4:06 and some odd seconds. Not a PR but such is life.
On the upside, we had yummy Philly cheesesteaks at Sonny's Cafe, checked out Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell, and wrapped up the evening with beers with some friends from the running group. In case you're wondering, the ankle I twisted feels pretty good today but the opposite ankle is super-tight. Maybe I ended up putting more weight on the non-twisted ankle to compensate? Who knows. Pass the turkey.