I'd recently made the decision to not run the Philly Marathon this year, which was a decision weeks in the making. Between the show and the new job, I knew I wouldn't have the time to properly train for it. As much as it pained me, I knew something had to give, and the marathon was it. This is not to say that I didn't go back and forth, hemming and hawing in those weeks, wanting to relive the emotion and splendor of last year's race and damn near signing up several times.
But I knew if I wanted to retain some semblance of sanity this fall, I would have to bow out of marathon season this year. Though I felt I was at peace with this decision, I was still sad to see this today:
Whereas before, I still had the ability to change my mind, crank out a few 20 milers and add another medal to my wall next month, now it's official: I won't be running the Philadelphia Marathon this year.
Well. If you don't mind wearing someone else's name on your bib, you're welcome to have mine should you decide you can't live without it.
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