Arriving home after the race meant facing my last huge challenge of the day - the stairs. It's just two short flights but it was like climbing a mountain without the benefit of porters. I did it on my own but every one of the 16 steps was as hard as the final mile of the marathon. Especially after sitting down for 45 minutes on the ride home.
But I made it. Under my own power. And somehow found a little extra strength to crawl into bed as well. Dad had bought my ice for my ritual post-run bath. I told him not to bother. I certainly couldn't handle any more pain and I was more than a little worried I would pass out due to the extreme level of fatigue.
Mom had a few pain pills left over from an operation she had last year. These turned out to be my saving grace. I'm not really big on self-medicating oneself but these worked to cut the edge off the agony so I could at least approximate comfort. The pain didn't go away, but it stayed in the corner on the other side of the room for a little while at least.
The rest of the day I spent laying in the bed with my legs propped up with pillows. Any movement was agony so there was not much chance of any walking to work out the soreness like most running guides seem to suggest.
My family was a big help at this point. I was, needless to say, somewhat upset over my performance and my condition. Everyone took time to come visit me in my sickbed and show support. I really appreciated talking with my cousin and my uncle - both experienced marathoners. Going back over my race with them gave me an important perspective to understand what actually happened over those 26.2 miles.
Sleep was not in the cards Sunday night. Even with the help of a percocet I was simply in too much pain to sleep. Every movement caused a stabby feeling that woke me right up. Even the weight of the sheets was painful to my sore muscles. Finally, early in the morning, I fell asleep for a few hours.
I woke up at 5 a.m. or so and lay there in the darkness trying to figure out what to do. It was pretty clear I had to get up but the level of soreness made that an unpleasant prospect. I finally got up the willpower to pull myself up and swing my legs over the side of the bed using my arms.
Trying to stand up didn't work so well. Every joint in my lower body felt like it was being stabbed with icepicks simultaniously. So I did the only thing I could do - I crawled by my hands to the bathroom. It was - by far - the lowest point of the whole experience for me.
I made a hot bath and filled it with a full bag of epsom salt. That half-hour soaking was as close to comfortable as I experienced in the 24 hour period. Getting out was a sad moment for me. But, to my surprise, I found I could get out. Even stand. Sorta.
Using the walls of the bathroom and hallway for support I made it back to the bed in what could almost pass for a walk. I got back into bed, propped up the legs and tried to focus on the positive.
I had scheduled a post-race massage for 8 a.m. but it was pretty clear that wasn't going to happen. Getting down the stairs to the car would be asking way too much. I called them, explained what happened and they agreed it wasn't a good idea. We rescheduled for later in the week.
Throughout the day, the legs started to feel better although it was very very slow in happening. The pain pills helped some. I made it a point not to try and walk for a few hours after taking one due a concern I would push my injured legs too far.
In the early 1990s when I lived in North Carolina I got hit by a car walking across the street. A neighbor of my parents - who lived by a farm north of Durham - gave me a cane he made from a piece of hardwood. Mom was keeping it in an umbrella stand and by afternoon I was using it to walk around the house a bit.
Last night I slept better. The pain pill and a largish dinner got me a few good hours at the start. I woke up several times and couldn't turn at all in bed but, overall, I got a some solid sleep in.
This morning I was able to hobble to the bathroom using my cane and, since then, I have even been able to go up and down the stairs once or twice. I'm hoping that by Thursday or Friday I can take a walk around the neighborhood.