
I go from running to run-limp-to limping. I limp through the Arboretum into the hay district of Santa Anita race track. Bales and bales of hay lay stacked up in large open "barns." I follow the course as it flows through a tunnel that emerges up in the infield. From there I turn onto the race track: loose sand chewed up by previous runners. I run-limp across the finish line.
Doctor's tomorrow for x-rays.
After fighting back from a knee/tendon injury in February at Pacific Shoreline I figured I'd used up my damage quota for this marathon. But there are no guarantees in running or life.
I guess I'm lucky not to be a horse.
Team in Training would have to shoot me.
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