Wednesday, June 5, 2019

Race another 100 miler?

After much deliberation, I signed up for another 100 mile race, Run Rabbit Run. I have a bunch of decisions to make:

  1. Do I really want to run it?
  2. If I fully commit to running it, should I take the early start (offered to women over 60 and men over 70)?
  3. Who will be my pacers?
Let's take number 1 first, since the others are moot if the answer is no.

Do I really want to run it? Why would I want to run it? Everyone asks this question of ultra-runners and ultra-runners ask this question of themselves. Again and again and again.

I want to run another 100 mile race because...

  1. I want to prove (to myself and the world) that I can.
  2. I failed to complete this race two years ago and I have unfinished business.
  3. I want to see/run the new course, especially that Flash of Gold trail.
  4. I want another belt buckle.
  5. I bask in the admiration of others.
  6. I feel like a total bad ass when I finish a race such as this.
  7. I feel lost without a major race to think about.
  8. I love the planing that goes into big races.
  9. I love being in great shape.
I should forget it because:

  1. I don't want to hurt that bad.
  2. It costs a lot of money (some is already spent).
  3. I hate being that dirty for that long.
  4. I don't want to have to train.
  5. It is selfish. My spouse, my pacers, and even my dogs will sacrifice for this event.
  6. I might fail. I hate to fail. I mean, I really hate to fail. Can't fail if you don't try.
If I don't do the race, what will I do instead? I mean, do I need to do something else? This summer I have four big adventures. One is already over: running camp with 5 good friends at the Colorado Running Ranch. That was a blast. It was so much fun that I decided to go back to the area and play around some more for four days. This time with the dogs, my camper, just one friend (Cheryl) and Mary Ann. It should be cheap and fun.

In August, I will run the Teton Crest trail with two really good friends. And a couple of weeks after that, I will run Maroon Bells Four Pass Loop with two more really good friends. These will be somewhat costly, but not in the $1000 range that the 100 miler will set me back.

I bet I could schedule another great adventure in September to replace Run Rabbit.

It all comes down to cost and benefit. I seriously do not know what I will decide or how I will make the decision.




Thursday, January 3, 2019

But Wait

So I have been dealing with the idea of not racing anymore (except for shorter, less stressful races). Thinking about relaxing, enjoying the runs, and staying clean and fed and, above all else, comfortable. That's what I think when I am not running.

But when I am running, I am loving it, and planning for the next big race. And then I come home and find that I cannot commit to the next big race.

I talked with Avery, my oldest grandson, about trying Run Rabbit Run again. I admitted that part of my motivation to finish it was gone, since some 60+ year old woman has already done that. I told him that she took a one hour head start.

Avery discussed the merits of playing it safe by taking the extra hour versus going bold and starting with everyone else.

A couple weeks after that conversation, we had this text exchange:
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So, I wonder what I will do.....Care to weigh in?

Time to fill out the dance card?

I wrote this back in November, after a hard season of racing, pacing, and assisting with other races:


            I was tired, I didn’t want to race. Ever again. I didn’t want to run. Ever again. I fell into bed. A warm bed with clean sheets. Clean sheets and a pillow. Not sleeping in the back end of the truck. Curled up with Zumi and Sadie. Snuggled. With Mary Ann. Tired. Too tired.
            Clean. I was clean. I had real food. My teeth were brushed. I even got to floss. I was clean. I was in a real bed. I was snuggled. I didn’t have to face heat or cold. Wind or rain. Hours of being dirty. Days of eating aid station food.
            I was tired. It felt good to snuggle. Good to rest. Good to sleep. And be clean.
            What was next? Another race? Maybe. Maybe not. I was tired. Too fucking tired.
            Comfortable. How horrible, to be comfortable and out of the elements.
            I need to recover. Get some sleep. Gain a couple of pounds. I was at the lowest weight I had been since I was in my early 30’s and suffering from depression. Not dangerously thin but on the edge. Hungry. Wanted real food. Clean sheets. Brushed teeth. Not too hot. Not too cold. No chafing. With a real bathroom and a toilet that flushes. Soft toilet paper.
Comfortable. Safe. Fed. Clean. 
Is this how it ends? I just decide that comfort is more important than adventure?