This was most likely a mistake, a long mistake.
I hiked six miles once; and though I’ve run farther on pavement, those six in the woods had more sticks, creeks, and hills—no—mountains in them than the roads around our neighborhood.
So, 35 miles? I’ll start puking now, good preparation for September.
I’m blaming it on my parents; curse you Forrest Gump! May I lather shame on my great grandparents for owning all the land I roamed as a child! And a hex on you middle-age! And that ever-fading patch of hair atop my head! Shan’t I just acquire a Corvette, comb the remaining strands of my ever-fading hair to the side, and prepare for old-age!
Yet, this mistake feels so right. Today may be the perfect moment to stumble off into the forest. My new job forces me to walk more than ever before. My diet has shaped me into a smaller circle. Our five children also provide me even further reasons to escape for long hours in the night. And, let’s be honest, I can’t find anything to watch on Netflix.
So, the journey awaits. The Georgia Jewel ultra-marathon, a worn and beaten path for many, for me is a road never traveled.
“Run when you can, walk if you have to, crawl if you must; just never give up.”