Three Weeks Out

Three weeks out. That's it, just three weeks. And I'm sitting here wondering why I would sign up for such a distance.

I've ran miles upon miles over the past decade. I've picked goals, and met them. I've ran 5Ks, marathons, 50s, 150s. Fast, Slow, crawling, bent over and broken.

DNFed, so many times. Planned and trained for months, ran for hours...then gave up. Just stopped. Stopped, just like that. Walked away from it. I think about those DNFs tonight and if there will be another in three weeks.

Ultras take work, take time, take patience. I know this and I've done the work and the miles. But this race is different. It teases me; has been for years. 

This goal, this distance, this race has been in my head and under my feet for the better part of three years. I tried it twice. And failed.

I DNFed at 120 miles into it. 120 miles! Trained and trained. Felt great going into it and really had it dialed in, until the cold rolled in and I lost my way. DNFed in 2016.

Last year. Again, I ran and trained and planned. But for all my efforts, life stepped in and had other ideas for me. I never even got to see the start line. With my bags packed and my hopes high, I couldn't escape my first. DNSed in 2016.

Three weeks from now, I'll be at the start line. Life will be on hold. I've made the arrangements. Training has been great, I've done what I can. The planning is set. There's nothing more to do. Run a bit. Stay healthy. Try not to freak out about the distance.
Don't freak out.
I know I'll be ultra-sensitive to every tweak, every ache, every cramp, every creak, every damn thing my legs do.

Twenty-one days until I try once again to run further and longer than I have ever gone before. I know what to expect - I think.

Hurt. Pain. Exustion. Numbness. Dispair. Dread. Cold. Alone. There's no real reason for me to do this.

Why do I do it?

So I sit here wondering why. Wrapped in a fuzzy blanket on a soft counch with a cat asleep on my lap.

Comfortable. Content. Happy.

Trying to figure out why. What will change if I finish? It's not about bragging. If I finish, most people will never know or really understand. I'm not a tough guy. If I finish, I don't expect to feel invincible.

If I finish...then what, why?

Running this race is a selfish endeavor. It must be for me. To see.

I will run these miles to push myself to find me. For a while I'll step inward to a place where I can't lie to myself, can't hide from myself, can't pretend to be something I'm not. I get to see what's really in my head, and my heart, and my body.

And if I'm successful, if I can finish, and if I can smile at the end, then I will be more than I was.

Three weeks from now I'll toe the line a third time in an attempt to run 200 miles. And hopefully I'll succeed at the distance. But if I don't, I know that I'll learn a bit more about myself, and that I'll have a great adventure trying.