So, I'm out of the marathon in April. What I'd thought were nagging shin splints that just would not quit turned out to be multiple stress fractures. Yeehaw. The bad news, aside from the kibosh on Nashville of course, is that there's pretty much nothing to do for stress fractures except sit around on my ass with ice and pop Tylenol every four hours. (good thing I have a sturdy liver, Terri!) And whine a lot about the various, lesser forms of odious cross-training.
The good news (and yes, there is some) is that I'm not a wimp. There's a very good reason my legs have hurt like hell every time I've run for the past several weeks: they're broken, dumbass.