In the spirit of lazy Internet writers everywhere—I am a little tired, after all—I've served up some FAQs below as a post-run recap.

(Photos copyright Stacey Cramp, except for the one of Scott & Stacey, which was taken by Linda Wack.)

A. I did the run to raise money for the Road Runners Club of America's Roads Scholar program, which provides $4,000 grants to promising but financially struggling young American distance runners. Two past recipients—Deena Drossin and Nick Rogers—made the 2000 Olympic team, so something is working. And call me crazy, but with running being used to raise funds for every other cause in the world, why not use it to help running?

Q. How much did you run each day?

A. Below are the dates and rough logistics of the run.

Q. So, you ran a lot. Get tired?

A. Not nearly as much as I thought I would. I ran slowly, and had planned rest stops for GU and Gatorade every six or so miles. At the rest stops on the penultimate day, I noticed I was pretty fatigued. Only on the last day was I tired from the first step of the day.

Q. How are you defining "ran slowly"?

A. The first two days, I started at 7:10 pace; this felt as slow as possible without losing the feeling of normal running mechanics. By the third day, I just kind of locked into that pace without having to make as much of an effort to restrain myself. Most days, when I had less than 10 to go and was sure disaster wasn't going to strike, I'd pick it up a bit and finish just under 7:00 pace. The fastest stretches I clocked were around 6:30 pace.

Q. Besides fatigue, how did your body hold up?

A. Amazingly well. When I woke up the morning of the last day, that was the first time that my legs were sore to the touch. Other than that, I had just two other biomechanical scares. On the fifth day, my left hip tightened up six miles into it, with about 18 to go for the day. I spent much of the next 10 miles subtly altering my form to find a gait that would keep the hip problem from deteriorating. It improved, then became a nonfactor when I ran 6:30 pace for the last few miles. Starting the next day, the hip was troublesome again, as was my left knee. These aches went away after a few miles. The knee was acutely sore with every step when I started the last day. At the first stop, I bitched about it to my help for that day, and when I resumed running, it was fine the rest of the day.

Q. What was the toughest day mentally?

A. The first one. Eating dinner the night before, I had this weird sensation of having done tequila shots or something, even though I had had nothing to drink. I couldn't finish my dinner and went straight to bed. When the alarm went off the next morning, I had a horrible headache, and I had to force a bagel down for breakfast. The two-hour car ride to the trail terminus in Cumberland kept my head spinning. I wanted to throw up every step of that first day's 28 miles. But I told myself that if I got through that day, then my head and stomach would be fine the next day, and 7:10 pace would feel that much easier. Overall, I was really surprised that I never hit stretches of pure drudgery. The keys were: concentrating only on the day's run at hand; breaking each day mentally into getting from one rest stop to the other; and drinking a lot of Gatorade to keep my brain fed.

Q. How much weight did you lose?

A. None. We don't have a scale, but if anything, I'm guessing I gained a pound or two, because I forced myself to take in calories throughout the day. (Why, I even ate lunch every day, which I haven't done since high school.) So feel free to pass on your weight-loss tips, because these 186-mile weeks just aren't cutting it for me.

Q. Did you run the whole way by yourself?

A. Praise be to Allah, no. On the second day, crewer Linda Wack ran the first five with me. On the third day, crewer Chuck Brady ran a few with me. On the fourth day, Chris Fox ran the last few with me, and then he met me for the first few miles of the fifth day. Even these little bits of company helped a lot. The sixth day (Thanksgiving) was almost like a freebie, because long-time chums Chris Chattin and Paul Jacobson ran the whole way with me, and Chris's buddy Simon joined us for the last 20. Also, Stacey was out on her bike during stretches of the first, second, sixth and last days. Finally, like I said, looking forward to the next rest stop was a big boost, so a tip o' the cap to the nice people who helped not named above: Dave Mead, B.V. and Roberta Douglas (AKA my parents), Mary Cerny, Jean Arthur and Jascha Fields.

Q. This account is pretty boring. What's up with that?

A. Two things. For starters, perhaps the biggest body-related thing I noticed during the week was that I was getting dumber by the day. The Saturday New York Times crossword puzzle, usually a pleasant 40-minute challenge, remained mostly unanswered all week. I also couldn't concentrate on any kind of real reading during the many hours a day I spent on my back. As I write this, the run has been over for two days, and I'm still battling to get up to Dubya-level intelligence. Second, I'll be writing an account of the run for Marathon and Beyond, so even if I could produce sparkling prose now, I'd save it for that.

Q. How much money did you raise?

A. Survey says....$5,886.

Q. Would you like to list some miscellaneous links?

A. Why yes, thanks for asking. For an article from a local paper about the run replete with factual errors, click here. For a brief article I wrote about the run for a local sports mag, click here. For more about the Roads Scholar program, click here. For an exhaustive site about the C&O Canal, click here. And for a completely unrelated write-up by Stacey of our Labor Day weekend 2000 traversing of the towpath by bike, click here.

Q. What's next?

A. Breakfast.