Big old honking DNF. My 2nd in 31 years of racing.
Groin was like a rock during warmup...(nice)...probably should not have even started, but hoped it would loosen up after a couple. Started getting worse. Sharp pains by 1.5 and decided how far I wanted to have to jog back in godforsaken Bell Buckle alone on the highway. Decided 2 miles would be sufficient.
You want humiliation? Try turning back at 2 miles as a massive flood of people is headed in your direction. Every so often a friend would pass by, yell, "WHAT"S WRONG???!" and I'd have to blare back, "GROIN!" while pointing at my junk. Then all the fat ass laughy daffys near the back bellowing, "YOU'RE GOING THE WRONG WAY!!! HA HA HA HA!!!" Boy howdy, what a hilarious joke.
After the tidal wave of runners, then joggers, then walkers, then the ambulance finally all passed by and I was gimping along with just me and Bell Buckle dogs barking, I cried. I'm not even sure why...not a goal race or a big deal. It just seems alien to quit a race. Scary bad dreamish.