The eighth mile is the slowest!

The eighth mile is the slowest. Not really. But my pace was way off today as I went out for my long run with the idea of conserving energy since I was adding another mile to my run. So what happens? I run my slowest time ever!
Well, that's not true. I couldn't run eight miles last year, and if I did I am sure I would have been slower. But somehow I managed a time 19 minutes longer than last week's seven miles. (1:48, fyi) Okay, I did run out of steam between 6.5 and 7, and most of seven could hardly be called a run. At one point I couldn't get my feet to look anything like a run. So I walked about a quarter mile, fired up the engines, and took off! (For about 2 blocks).
My toe pads are on fire, the balls of my feet feel as if they were raked across hot coals, and I got post runner's gas cramps that are doubling me over. I visited Mr Potty three times since I've been home. TMI?
You know what? I'm digging this entry. Really. Here I am, previously 401 pounds, and I am complaining about my 8 mile run. These are the things we should enjoy in our new lifestyle. That, and the fact that I burned a bunch of calories today. Mmm, hamburger for dinner? Nah, I'm just kidding!