More post-marathon stuff and lessons learned

ORN: { } No run today because I am sick. Four months of good health during race season cannot go unpunished. My lungs feel like they are stuffed with rags.

After hanging around the post-race party until I was fit to walk unaided, Wifey and I went home. She drove me to my car, and I immediately affixed my 26.2 car magnet to my ride. Smugness was in full effect.

At home, I started the recovery process. I poured myself a hot bath with some epsom salts [who knows whether that stuff works or not] and sat in the steaming broth sipping beer. After 20 minutes or so, I had all the bath I could stand [having been sweating most of the day] and got out. I went to work on repairing my feet.

My feet had no blisters, but they hurt like heck. I got one of my puppy's tennis balls and went to town rolling it along the floor. I mashed hard with the sole of one foot and then switched to the other. I pushed the ball hard into my plantar fascia, as hard as I could manage, and cured my foot pain.

I slept the rest of the weekend. Sleep, plus beer, naproxin, sports creme, and the tennis ball treatment made my recovery a breeze. I felt fine -- but dog-ass tired -- by Sunday afternoon.

Lessons learned:

• My hydration plan was impeccable. I trained to drink X ounces of sport drink at Y intervals, and with the heat, I drank 2*X ounces at 0.5*Y intervals. I had the habit in place to scale up, and that kept me from becoming a heat casualty.
• I had to run my race. I had all sorts of voices in my head telling me I could/should speed up or slow down, but in the end, I had to do what I had to do to survive. I did not acclimatize to running in 80° weather, so I had to play the hand I was dealt.
• Fan and loved-one support matters. During the first 12 miles, when there were supporters all along the route, running was easy. After the half/full split, and the supporters evaporated, so did my spirit. Knowing my wife was at the finish line waiting kept me on my feet and having friends rooting for me lifted my spirits considerably.
• I should really edit my race reports before I publish them. I'm going to fix it today.
  
• At the back of the pack, marathon running is not a competitive sport. It's totally collaborative. We leaned on each other. One runner gave me some lubricant unasked for. Another let me borrow his cell phone.
• Whether or not I trained enough to run this race, my training certainly helped me recover. I wasn't nearly as sore as I feared I would be.
• Tennis balls are the key to recovery.
• And beer.
• There are a lot of people in my real-life circle of friends and online rooting for me, and for that, I am extremely grateful.

A question I keep getting asked is whether or not I will do another marathon. I signed up for Chicago before I ran this one, so the answer is yes. I paid my fee; I have to run. I'm registered as a charity runner; I have to run. I may not have chosen to run another one if I had this experience behind me, but I will do at least one more. If Chicago is an awesome experience, then I may be in trouble. If Chicago sucks as much as this one did, then I think the half marathon will be my race.