As soon as I crossed the finish line, I was ready for another marathon. It wasn’t because I just had the best marathon in my life or I just qualified for Boston. Quite contrarily, I just limped four very painful miles to the finish, failed to break four hours, one of the two goals of this marathon. The other goal? Crushed as well. I wanted to remain injury free. From the very start, I followed the 4:00 pace group faithfully until the pacer had to take a bathroom break. So I continued on my own, checking my garmin from time to time to make sure I stick to a pace between 8:45 and 9:00 min./mile. Discomfort started kicking in at about mile 13, but it soon built up to pain. I knew I was in trouble but I couldn’t tell much beyond that. Somewhere between mile 16-18, I realized my running form changed due to tensed muscles from pain. One step at a time; one foot before the other. That brought me to mile 19. And Mile 20. Earlier during the run, a gentleman wisely said, “Mile 20 is half the rac...