A Marathon Tale: An Unlikely Duo

Desert Grit

Heading home to Buffalo, NY for the marathon over Memorial Day is an annual delight. The weather is always perfect, the trees are green, and the city has a winter-is-finally-over-buzz that instantly doses me a contact high. It also arrives at an opportune time for relief when the heat is ramping up in Tucson to the triple digits. “It’s not bad, it’s a dry heat,” they tell me. Yeah, well so is an oven.

It’s a quick trip. I arrive at my folk’s house at midnight on Saturday. I’m up at 5:30am the following morning sipping coffee and going over my strategy for the marathon that begins at 7. The last marathon I ran was Boston a couple years ago. I ran a PR (personal record) in 2:47. An hour or so after I finished, the thrill of my fastest marathon to date became trivial and insignificant as the horrific…

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