Typically, I hit my marathon wall around mile 18. That’s when my legs feel like heavy wet logs en route to a paper mill’s pulp masher. For years I blamed my pain and stiffness on lactic acid. Lactic acid. If you run, lift weights or simply know someone who does, then you are probably familiar with the term. Heck, even my cousin, who complains about strolling to the end of the driveway to fetch the newspaper, knows about lactic acid thanks to a marathon volunteer, who insisted he bring me over to the massage tent post race so I could … Continue reading →