I was listening to an ultra runner podcast while ultra-raking grass clippings yesterday. They were discussing their 100 miles, which led to introspection on my part as I continued to listen and rake.
At some points, during the MMT race, while I was alone, I would kind of wake up and think "hey! I am running MMT! I'm like those runners in the movie, coming into aid stations.."
I got a big canary eating grin on my face as I think I realized, I ran this course!
In a respectable time! This was no squeaking by barely, this was a hardcore finish! This is the hardest 100 miler east of the Mississippi and I enjoyed myself!
I've spent the last week being the "confident runner". I am enjoying myself. I hope this does not segue into the "cocky runner" but that's really not my style. I have found my ability to believe in myself.
Today was the first day I ran since the race. Last week, after working I had just been exhausted. I could have ran Saturday or Sunday, but had other more pressing activities to perform.
This was to be just a 4 miler, on the flat asphalt bike trail close to work. I was pretty sure it was going to suck, after working all day and running on asphalt after dancing over the rocks the previous weekend. But I didn't care. I was getting out for a run, and was pretty eager to get the legs moving again.
I parked the vehicle, then started down the bike trail. I always walk for 5 minutes, to warm up, which usually coincides with walking over a wooden bridge over a creek.
I approached the bridge. I thought of the last time I had run-with 200 other runners in the pre-dawn, determined to conquer mountains. My last running steps before this was triumphantly, through a field, to cross a finish line after 101 miles.
Now I was going to begin again.A new run. I walked across the bridge, into my running future. I smiled as I clicked the Garmin, and said "Part Two".