So, I’ve got this Blue Ridge Double Marathon in April. Two and a half months away.
The last time I ran it, it broke me pretty hard.
And I spent months training for it.
Like, at least three full months.
Because Tiny Brazilian made me.
I’m not currently training.
Because no one is making me.
See, I’m basically lazy.
In my core. I’m a pretty lazy human.
My saving grace is that I have a pretty strong FOMO drive.
So, when friends suggest a 20 mile trail run. I say yes. Obviously.
And then when a friend says she needs to pick up her rental car, so why don’t we just do the first 8 with the group and then go for breakfast before picking up her car. I say yes. Obviously.
And really. Have you tried this?
Committing to a 20 mile mountain run? At 6:30am? In January? And then deciding to only do 8?
It feels amazing.
It’s kind of euphoric.
Particularly when you’re shoving eggs and bacon and hot coffee into your face while your friends are still running through the cold and mud. Eating Kind bars and rationing water.
I was barely even into the McAfee parking lot. At 6:50 am. Before the sun was even up. When Tiny Brazilian pulled my car door open. And shoved GJB into my passenger seat.
“He’s your responsibility now.”
Then she and Beautiful Beastie just took off. To run their 35.
Leaving me to watch GJB until the rest of the group got there from Daleville.
“Ok, GJB. Just…don’t touch anything.”
“I really want some chicky nuggies right now.”
He’s so gross. I know it sounds innocuous. But it’s not. It’s gross. And I’d explain it to you. Except no. You don’t want to know. I will say, it’s the reason I had to mute the Christmas Crew group chat last Thursday.
I don’t have to mute them often.
But when I do, it’s because GJB has said something next level questionable.
Anyway, everyone else showed up. On time. And took off up the mountain at 7:00am.
Except Rogue. Who had woken up at 6:24am.
But still somehow made it by 7:02am.
You know her by now. You know that had to be said.
She had all of her parts fully covered.
And still made it almost on time.
But still just late enough for the others to take off on us. To run their 20.
So I got to have her all to myself on the trek up McAfee.
And we talked about how fucking unprepared I am for a double marathon this year.
And how well-trained I was in 2018.
And how that didn’t even really matter, because that shit’s gonna hurt regardless.
I just need to find the right shoes…
Because the lower half of my body is falling the fuck apart.
So, if I can just find the right shoes. To make road miles not torturous. And some arch tape, which Rogue believes might actually be a thing. And that I might owe Carlos an apology for saying it was bullshit. And a brace for my ankle. That apparently never fully healed from my porch fall several months ago. So rock-strewn McAfee was a fucking shit show on the way up and the way back down.
If I can find all of those things. And maybe run some mountains every now and then. I should be able to manage the Double in April without completely tearing down my body.
And then Grand Canyon Rim to Rim in May.
And then Leadville Heavy Half in June.
But first, BelMonte 50k in March.
So…February. February should probably be some sort of training month? I guess?
Like, maybe I should get a few long runs in to prepare? Or at least pretend like I’m preparing?
I’ll just be sitting here.
Waiting for one of you.
To make me go run.
And I’m gonna be super whiny about it.
Also, bring snacks.