The day was unseasonably hot. I was also not in the best of shape.
In years past, I've placed in my age group and won an apple pie for my effort.
Around mile 5, I knew pie was out of the question. At mile 7, I got tingley. 10-12 are a blur of white hot sun and the taste of salt tinged despair. The end was okay.And alas, no pie. This is the day I remember now when the temperature drops into the single digits.