As I write this I'm icing my calves because Saturday I ran a 13.1 mile half-marathon. I undertook this masochistic activity as a means to the end of finishing a 15.5 mile race on May 8th. I've been doing this race for about 12 years and my feet and legs are still holding up fairly well.
The rewards of running a long race is an inward and outward experience that can obviously only be achieved by throwing yourself into it. Some inward rewards are the illusion of prolonging youth and being able to do something others can't or don't care to do. External rewards are the kinship with other struggling runners, the cheering crowds, helpful aid station workers, and all the odd things you see and think about in a normal race.
I'll write more about this in the next two weeks and will share more of those oddities.
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