It has been four days of deep soul-searching, a humbling exercise precipitated by an extremely disappointing marathon performance last Sunday.
The extent of the soul-searching has been such that, at times, I even began to question whether I’m physically and/or mentally cut out for this human torture that is called the marathon.
The only consolation from the race is that I crossed the finsh line … barely. While the official time of 4 hours and 33 minutes was some 44 minutes outside my Personal Best, at least it was an improvement on my last shameful DNF effort over the distance.
Nevertheless, I feel like such a failure.