There I laid in a hospital bed weakened after a month of nuisance sicknesses anywhere from uvulitus to painful myalgia. Inside of me was a near fatal case of double lung pneumonia.
Finally changed status to recovery toward the end of a 14-day stint in isolation at the hospital. I hadnt had a decent shower in a while because I had a tube hooked up to drain the worse of my two lungs. I was permitted to walk around slowly as long as I could pull the cart with me and be careful of the tube.
Weaker than you can imagine, stinking like crap and with bed sores near my tailbone I envisioned myself returning to my old form.
My doctor warned I would be starting over and not the same person who I was. One of the medicines I took gave me a reaction that stripped the lean muscle mass on my torso and made me weak. Up to that point I was a very dedicated distance runner and disciplined with fitness.
On Day 1 I could barely jog a mile and had to go very slow.
On Day 51 I ran an all out mile in 5:07 nearly a minute back of my personal best and I could noticeably feel the scar tissue flare. To keep myself going I told myself I was in eight grade again.
Seven months later I found myself at the start line of another mile. I was very strong again. I had maintained decent mileage with a focus on 5 mile threshold runs, fartleks and could demonstrate I was near my old form with 25-26s 200m repeat speed in trainers.
At the start line I decided to aim for 4:15. Out in 61 and 2:07 at the half I knew where I was and started to go for it. With 400 to go I couldnt find my final gear. I hit a wall. People passed me up that should have never passed me but I let them go without a fight. I felt the flares in my side where the puncture wound had scarred but that isnt an excuse to where I was mentally. Once known for sub-60 closing speed I finished well over 70s. It was more than physical it was reality.
As I coasted across the line in 4:32 one more person had the race of his life to outkick me. He was a to be freshman in high school. Though talented and he went on to run 15:35/4:13/1:54/9:22 as a freshman I was done.
I didnt stay for the awards. Didnt bother to cool down. I walked home and on that 1 mile walk the fire finally went out. The sounds of the claps and cheers went monotonous. The ghost racers and jasaris now just looked "weird". Running on an oval seemed meaningless and I concluded I wanted other things.
Yet here I am on this message board sharing it with other has been, never was, blown out losers.