Tragedy.

I quit after 1 mile of the 5K last night.  My shins were on fire and were cramping up.  It was like someone was peeling off my shins with a putty knife. Ouch.  I made it to the top of Lido Key Bridge and I just could not run another step.  In fact I could barely walk.  But walk I did, for 2.1 more miles.

At the end everyone (I was running with a running club) was partying.  I hung out and killed a beer with a few of them. They asked how my run went and I explained my situation.  I was surprised by the understanding that poured forth. Mostly everyone told me to rest a day or two and give it another shot.  They had all been there it seemed. Apparently the desire to run faster and further sometimes outweighs common sense. 

Runners, it seems, are supportive.

I think I just tried too hard to keep up with the group rather than running at my own, dumb, pace.  But lesson learned.  I am tortuga.  Live with it.  Oh the shame.  The tragedy.