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 parent’s movie choices; curse you Forrest Gump! May I lather shame on my grandparents too for owning all that 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!
But–today I’ll stumble off into the forest, it’s my best chance of success. My new job forces me to walk more than ever before. My diet has shaped me into a smaller circle. Our five children provide me further reasons to escape for long hours in the night.
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.”