I stare at the map for a few seconds - again.
On it is a course. The course is 25.1 miles long. I imagine myself at the end of the course. Ordinarily I would feel a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment standing here.
But the race on this course is 50 miles long, and I still have to go back.
In between where I stand and where I have to go is a ski mountain - not a huge one, but big enough by eastern standards. On the way to where I imagine myself standing I had to ascend it, descend it, and ascend it again. At least on the way back I will only have to climb it once. Altogether, when I make it to the finish, I will have climbed about 10,000 feet and descended 10,000 feet.
I just finished my first 50K and I have a little less than a year to prepare myself to face this monster (assuming I can get in).
Does anyone else out there get that bizarre, twisted feeling where a goal begins to take hold of you, just feels completely right - and yet frightens the living crap out of you at the same time?
On the ultra list we talk a lot about why we do these things and it's very hard to put into words. For me it has something to do with how I feel when I look at that map right now.
More to come as this plan unfolds.
Onward!
