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Week 55: Catharsis from the Village & Subjugating the Elitist Dickhead Within

I hope all those affected by Hurricane Helene are safe and doing okay.

We lost power just as work ended on Friday, and got it back just after dinnertime on Sunday. So we spent a weekend with candles, lanterns, and board games. The boys played in the dark, basically just fought the entire time, and were actually a little bummed when power was restored.

My first thought was, “Just in time to go back to work.”

Oh, to be a kid.

Couch to Ultramarathon…and Beyond

While the events of a couple weeks back may have seemed like a massive setback in the moment, in reality it’s just another part of the process. One particular message I received from a friend reminded me that if we don’t run the risk of failure then our goal probably wasn’t big enough.

I think they’re right. Ships are safe in harbor, but that’s not why we build ships.

So next year, we train harder. We train smarter. We train more completely.

And I’m no longer going to try and do it all on my own.

Over the course of the last year, I constantly heard about “the community” around ultrarunning and trail running in general. I found myself a bit skeptical since I never really experienced it firsthand, even in races.

The problem was me.

The reason I didn’t get any sense of community is because I’m not a part of it. I trained alone. I raced alone. I did this whole thing…alone.

I missed out by being selfish. By thinking my goals were special and different and unique. By putting my own aspirations on a pedestal.

Like most things in life, we get out what we put in; and I made zero deposits there.

So it goes and lesson learned.

There is an old African proverb that “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”

I went alone and went neither fast nor far. Time to change that.

What Comes Next?

In the aftermath of not finishing the 100k race a couple weeks ago, I got a huge outpouring of support.

It was a bit unexpected. I didn’t really know if anyone else really found my journey interesting or inspiring at all.

I found out otherwise, and thank you to everyone who reached out with sympathy, empathy, or tough love.

There were messages that reminded me of the journey, of recovery and stepping back from the abyss, of personal growth, of physical fitness, of wisdom gained and freedom attained, and everything in between.

Those messages galvanized me.

If nothing else, they proved that our crazy dreams and aspirations are VALID and WORTHY of our time and attention. And if we should come up short, well it sure sucks; but it’s still way better than “What If” because “What If” NEVER WENT TO THE ARENA.

So now we take a small respite. I won’t be running winter ultras this year. I’ll get in the weight room and build a strong base for next spring. I’ll do work on the bike and give my knees and ankles a break from the pounding. And I’ll wake up in the mornings without a feeling of dread, that Sword of Damocles hanging over my head.

And when the time is right, I’ll start preparing for my revenge in the Blue Ridge mountains.

People kept asking me what I was going to do next.

Each time I gave the answer, I became more convinced it was the way.

Like John Muir said, “The mountains are calling, and I must go.”

Live triumphantly. See you next week.