The All Time Lows

I ran in the 93rd annual Bay to Breakers today. Surprisingly, my legs are still working somewhat. Being the Boy Scout I am, I went to bed after 2AM last night, then woke up at 6:30AM. We headed down to Howard and Spear where there were about 70,000 people, most of whom were throwing tortillas, which is all well and good, but tortilla odor started infiltrating the air, making me want to vomit. It took another 20-25 minutes after the race officially started for me to reach the starting line, then another few blocks for there to be enough room to start jogging. My goal was to make it to the top of the Hayes Street Hill, a 230 foot monstrosity that tops off in Alamo Square. For some reason, when I got to the top I decided, "Well, I might as well run to the bottom." Then I decided, well, I might as well run to the Panhandle, then, well, I might as well run to Stanyan at the start of Golden Gate Park. Another thing that kept me going were the people I saw in front of me... "There's no way in hell I'm letting this guy in a cow suit beat me." This continued until I reached the finish line in one hour, 19 minutes and 20 seconds. While this time didn't beat the Kenyans, I did finish third in the pack-a-day smoker subseed behind a woman with an oxygen tank.
Pain set in at the park, where I started to feel the blisters in my toes. My leg started hurting in an area that could best be described as my groin. The encouragement shouted from the sidelines and other runners really kept me going at the end where I came very close to vomiting and yet sprinted to the finish.
Later in the day, my friend Mike Caso said "It's only 7 miles?" at which pont I slapped him across the face.