I am so sore.
Yesterday, I ran the Inaugural Gold Country Half Marathon in El Dorado Hills, CA. It was amazing! My last half was back in March, and I wisely stayed with the pacer for the first eight or so miles. Then I unwisely felt like I was having to hold back to stay with him, so I took off on my own. I couldn't believe how well I was doing, how great I felt- for about two miles. Then I bonked. Hard. I ended up walking more than running for the last three miles, until the aforementioned pacer caught me just before the finish, smacked me on the back, and said "Let's go, Craig!". I managed to jog in with him, completely wiped. Now, some of that was nutrition: I didn't take in much at all, other than a few sips of Nuun, and maybe a gel early in the race. Some of it was under-training: I was nursing shin splints and a calf injury. But most of it was taking off too fast, too early. Unless your name is Meb, you just can't kick at mile 8- especially if you are an old, kinda fat guy like me.