Why does writing this pre-race ramp-up feel like writing a eulogy?
|Buffalo 100 mile race|
In a way, this is a eulogy, which I dedicate (with sincerest apologies) to the early death of my hopes and dreams. Hopes and dreams for race day performance, I appreciate your novel coercion to get me out running when I should have been recovering from injuries. Your lofty ways convinced me to attempt long runs when I had the stomach flu, fevers, sinus infection, and various lower leg injuries. In the end, it was your perfectionist flaw that took you down.
In conclusion to this eulogy, I will reference a vague saying. “When someone dies a baby is born and thus is the circle of life.” While a terrible condolence and a poor attempt at a fallacy of logic, I will use this quote. So, with the death of hopes and dreams for race day, something new is born: sullen low expectations.
|Earl: "You better be able to outrun me, woman."|
Oh, I’ll try my darndest to reach my time goals and get to my mile markers on time. But I’m expecting utter failure. I went into the Bryce 100 all butterflies and cherry sundaes and rainbows, and you know what that got me? A Big Fat Ankle and a Big Fat DNF. A positive attitude isn’t everything, right? And for the Buffalo 100, it isn’t anything, since it doesn’t exist.
Truly, this race goes against my traditional style of ultra-running: it’s cold, has people that I know, and is flat. Why did I even sign up for this?! Mostly it was because Scott told me I could kick him where it hurts if I have a bad day. Something like that. I’m sure he’s banking on me not being able to lift my legs to kick after I finish. He’s probably right. Dang, outwitted again.
Here are a few highlights from my severe lack of training for Buffalo 100:
- No ultra length distances pre-race. Awesome, right? No 50 milers, no 40 milers, oh wait…. no 30 milers either! Also of note, no time on feet runs. Yep. Fantastic. I anticipate frozen hamstrings and stiff hips by mile 20.
- The Wedge: This was the great run down in Southern Utah where I got a fever (probably because I had the stomach flu 2 days before and had a head cold that was in the process of becoming a sinus infection…) I then got dizzy and took a nap on the trail. Sweet friends Matt and Scott gave me Tylenol and walked me through a shortcut to the finish. To make it more embarrassing, this group run was filled with a dozen or so locals, most of whom I met that day. I make an excellent first impression.
- Personal worsts on all my favorite flat trails. Super cool, right?
- The race is two weeks out and my legs are too trashed to run at all… even though I’m a week into my taper. This taper must be going extraordinarily well. Can I just sit on the couch now? Will the race be called “off-the-couch” if I sit on the couch for 2 whole weeks? Please?
Well, if nothing else, I’ll wear my buffalo earrings for my date with Earl and go out for what I’m sure will be a “great learning experience” before my other adventures this summer. This is an ultra-runner’s way of saying “I am financially invested in this and therefore must make value in what will be a Very Painful Experience.”
|Ready for my date with Earl.|
All those well-wishers who may view this as some sort of self-condescending plea for good luck: it’s really not. Send your good luck vibes to my poor pacers who will have to deal with me all night. I pity them already. (By pity I mean appreciate. *cough)
Well, until the race report. Over and out.