. . . . running toward the beach Gava, my matted hair rippling in the wind, like a wild horse that has not been tamed, sweat fell down the front giving a glow to the skin to flash with each step down from the lampposts the promenade, my heart beat slow, the pace had been training, when a slight pain, which drew a while I roamed my precious knee joint. "I hold" - I thought to myself, and I pressed a little more. I stopped a few meters later, without acknowledging at that time would not be for the BCN Marathon, you know your body. The defeat had overtaken my mind to see me sitting in a car co-pilot the kind young man who drove me home, drive back was as an accurate shot to my pride, I had it all, pace, adapt, train and escaped me in the blink of an eye. This was what happened today 3 months ago.
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