Tuesday, June 08, 2010

Flirting With Disaster, or Beware the Runner's High!

I must still be high from my Dirty Thirty 50k finish, for I can think of no other rational explanation for the insanity I'm currently contemplating.

Barely 24 hours after we finish the Golden Gate Dirty Thirty, this very tempting e-mail arrives from my friend Sarah. In just six words, she launches me down a potentially dangerous, surely unreasonable path:

In a saner state of mind, I would surely have considered I can't possibly be ready to run a 50-mile race less than six weeks from now, when I wasn't planning to take that step until late August. I'd have thought to myself, "Sounds like fun, Sarah -- maybe I'll pace you the last twenty miles and call it a day."

But that pesky runner's high is still with me. It felt amazing to finish a really tough 50k. How much more amazing might it feel to finish a fifty-mile race?!

Endorphins still coursing through my veins, I click through the North Fork 50 website. Beautiful scenery? check. Good cause? check. Reasonable cutoff times? check. And so here I teeter, poised just at the edge. Should I take the plunge?

The fact that I'm still contemplating this two days after Sarah's e-mail arrived has probably tipped you off, dear reader. What is life without a little risk, right?

Endorphins be damned. Ultra Signup, here I come!

See you on the trail.
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