Across the US of A, and more.
I just kept runnin' and I am not sure why.
Mama said stupid is as stupid does.
Across the US of A, and more.
I just kept runnin' and I am not sure why.
Mama said stupid is as stupid does.
NBA dude wrote:
1995 cell phones didn't work very well.
+1
More stories than I'd like to admit. Distance was not the worse as 20+ milers are a staple throughout the year. It's when you plan a 10 Mike run a a good clip that turns into the 20+ . Once ran in a very hilly area while camping did popped out onto trails came out in went the wrong way back. Wasn't till I saw the same empty bush light 30 pack discarded on the side road a couple times to realize how screwed I was. It was over 80 in mid October so I was really cooked by the end
Worse was a August 10k point to point race where I decided to run back to start with my gear. Got to race a little late, parked in different area which in my haste totally forget any street names land marks. Needless to say ran another 12+ miles in full out August sun after running a 10k all out. Never hated myself more than I did during that day. Demoralizing to say the least.
amkelley wrote:
I'll be surprised if anyone comes up with something to top fisky's story. Mine is nowhere near but a little different from any of those already posted, so I'll toss it out anyway.
I went for a 10-mile run in a driving sleet storm in upstate New York one morning, thinking the whole time how terrific it would feel to jump into a hot shower upon arriving back home. I reached my front door, reached for my zippered jacket pocket to retrieve my house key, and discovered to my horror that the pocket was unzipped and the key was gone. No idea where I had lost it on the 10-mile route. I lived alone and had no one to let me into the house, and I didn't have a key hidden on the premises.
My first instinct was to lie down on the porch and cry, but I quickly decided that would be counterproductive. I considered breaking a window, but that would be expensive to fix and would leave my little house open to the frigid winter storm. So I went with Plan B, which was to retrieve my spare key from my office, 4.5 miles away. I kicked my frozen body back into some sort of jog and set off down the bike path. The sleet grew heavier and the wind got stronger, and after a while the sleet was coming at me completely horizontally. I just kept telling myself "you're a marathoner, 14.5 miles is nothing."
I finally reached my building. It was still only about 7:30 am but I found a janitor who knew me and let me into my office. I made a beeline for the spare set of sweat clothes I had stashed away there, grabbed my key, and sat in my office shivering uncontrollably.
I would like to say that I then sucked it up and ran the 4.5 miles back home, but that would be a lie. I picked up the phone and called a taxi to take me back home. And that hot shower felt even better when I finally got it.
I swear I've read this before. Have you ever posted this story in another thread?
VegetableSoup wrote:
amkelley wrote:I'll be surprised if anyone comes up with something to top fisky's story. Mine is nowhere near but a little different from any of those already posted, so I'll toss it out anyway.
I went for a 10-mile run in a driving sleet storm in upstate New York one morning, thinking the whole time how terrific it would feel to jump into a hot shower upon arriving back home. I reached my front door, reached for my zippered jacket pocket to retrieve my house key, and discovered to my horror that the pocket was unzipped and the key was gone. No idea where I had lost it on the 10-mile route. I lived alone and had no one to let me into the house, and I didn't have a key hidden on the premises.
My first instinct was to lie down on the porch and cry, but I quickly decided that would be counterproductive. I considered breaking a window, but that would be expensive to fix and would leave my little house open to the frigid winter storm. So I went with Plan B, which was to retrieve my spare key from my office, 4.5 miles away. I kicked my frozen body back into some sort of jog and set off down the bike path. The sleet grew heavier and the wind got stronger, and after a while the sleet was coming at me completely horizontally. I just kept telling myself "you're a marathoner, 14.5 miles is nothing."
I finally reached my building. It was still only about 7:30 am but I found a janitor who knew me and let me into my office. I made a beeline for the spare set of sweat clothes I had stashed away there, grabbed my key, and sat in my office shivering uncontrollably.
I would like to say that I then sucked it up and ran the 4.5 miles back home, but that would be a lie. I picked up the phone and called a taxi to take me back home. And that hot shower felt even better when I finally got it.
I swear I've read this before. Have you ever posted this story in another thread?
I probably did, but I can't remember when or where.
I was running a full mary and my buddy, a fellow LRC troll, was going to pace me to 16 and get a ride to the finish. Well the ride wasn't at the rendezvous point so my buddy finished the race. I hit my OT Qualifier and my buddy bandited an unofficial 2:25. At least the ride was at the finish. Hard to believe that was 15 years ago.