Foreshadow? Not likely. Still, this little piece of nostalgia gives me hope that despite my egregious lack of training, I still have it in me. Knee braces, don't let me down. Vaseline, stay by my side. Gatorade, be my beacon and guide the way. After all this I consecrate my fate to that running deity who doubtless knows what it is like to hit the wall, and whom I consequently trust will be merciful.