Yesterday morning Mel ran his second marathon. He was up and out of the house around 5:00 am so he could stretch, sit in the hot tub and have breakfast before heading to the race. During that time I lay in my warm, cozy bed and listened to the rain coming down outside. I was thinking, "man, he has dedication." I would've taken one look at the weather outside and said "Forget it, I'll skip this race." It was about 45 degrees and wet. Horrible conditions for a marathon. So I lay there feeling very proud of my husband; for all the hard work he's put into his training, for his competitive nature, for all his early morning runs, for enduring miserable conditions and for never quitting.
He didn't need to finish today's race for me to be proud of him, but he did. Even though he was hurt around mile 20 and spent thirty minutes in the medical tent. His right Iliotibial band (connective tissue from the hip to knee) was so tight and inflamed it was cutting off circulation to his foot. He could barely lift his right leg. The doctor and PT advised him to quit the race so he didn't do further damage, but quitting isn't in Mel's vocabulary so he walked/ran/limped the last six miles to finish.
I'm very proud of him. Now I'm
not saying it was smart for him to keep going on his injured leg, but I admire his determination and perseverance. He earned his medal.
I'm very proud of him. Now I'm not saying it was smart for him to keep going on his injured leg, but I admire his determination and perseverance. He earned his medal.
