Never say never

After the 1993 Lausanne Marathon, I said it would be my first and last. The end had been torture; my stomach was cramping and my thighs felt like cement that had gradually set over the last dozen kilometers. I could hardly take another step after crossing the finish line. Over the next few weeks two of my toenails turned blue and fell off, and my toes were tender for months. But here we are, 16 years later, packed and ready to go to the 2009 Beaujolais Nouveau Marathon. The gun goes off in 20 hours!

Gotta run…