Profile of a Long Day

Check out the Ascent numbers, or feet climbed - 5040. I also burned 7,341 calories. Over nine hours and thirty-six minutes.

The beer afterwards, nectar.

The steak and potatoes, glorious.

Two days later, my feet still hurt. But no blisters. Just bruises from rocks.

I must admit that the past three months have taken a lot more out of me than I thought, nay, that I'm loathe to admit. I'd never fallen before in a trail race - tripped many times before of course - but always managed to recover before I kissed dirt. This past Saturday I just didn't have the leg strength, or quickness to keep from eating gravel after a few hours. I bloodied and banged up both knees and an elbow. One knee is particularly bad.

The last two hours the only reason I could continue was not to let down, or slow down, any of the group I was running with. On my own, I seriously would have considered dropping out at the last Aide Station after about seven and a half hours.

Now I just want to go to Bordeaux and the south of France and ease through the Medoc Marathon. I have a few more test results to come, and honestly, I think my competitive fires have been banked for a while.

I can't imagine what kind of training I would have to do to get back to my form this Spring. The idea of doing an Ironman next year seems to have fizzled. It no longer holds the allure it did just a few months ago.

AND having to lose twenty-five pounds to get into fighting trim...

But God it was beautiful out there on the trails, in the mountains, with good friends and views over valleys that took your breath away.

Appreciate what you have.

Remorse, but no regrets...