All things in moderation, right? Say this to an athlete, and you’re liable to get punched in the face. But that doesn’t make it any less true.

So it is with running. Especially, running with a spinal fusion. As fusion survivors (or human beings, I guess) we only get so many steps in our lives, and I want to spend as many of those as I can running. So, I’ll need to be smart about it.

From now on I’m sticking to 10ks. I can run for farther into my life by running, well, less far. I’ll try to get faster at the shorter distances and kick ass that way.

It’s frustrating when you are in shape enough to go faster or farther, but your body just won’t let you. It’s really hard to explain to someone whose body has never betrayed them like this.

I trained for this thing as best I could, and I knew this would probably be my last going into it. The training told me that. I can’t injure myself to the point that it takes months to recover from one race. That’s just…stupid.

As an example of why, here’s a quick rundown on my last half-marathon:

Mile 0.0: I’m pretty close to pain-free. For me anyway.

Mile 3: Pain, but normal stuff.

Around Mile 5: I’m in trouble. Big trouble. I’m losing sensation in my left leg. The pain in my back is excruciating. I’ll slow down a bit and keep going. Let’s see what happens.

Mile 6: Oh god. Can I finish? Are they going to get the medical cart?

Mile 9: I can do this. I’m going to finish this son of a…

Mile 12.5: Nope. I can’t. I can’t move my left leg very well. It’s over.

Mile 13: WHY IN THE HELL IS THERE A POINT ONE???

Mile 13.15: ::sobbing:: I can’t move anymore. My left leg is numb. Bring me water before I die. NOW! ::whimper::

Mile whateverwhocares: Well, that’s over. That’s never happening again. Glad I did it, though Peace out.