An ultrarunner is in a constant battle with oneself. Who else waits for recovery, in order to take themselves back to the scene of the crime, only to face their killer once again?
We wreck our mind, soul, and body, then like an addict, not wanting to OD, pace the floor in wait for the next battle with our healer?
The mountains, physical and mental, stand before us as both the cure and cause of our pain.
The rocks massage our fears, numb the pain, and form the limps we’re known by.
When on the trail, we’re lost in our humanity, the primal hunter, in search for the nourishment of the kill coming with each aid station.
When the trail meets the road, we’re reminded of our life here, amongst the concrete dwellers. As our journey drops back into the forest, we leave behind the life we’ve known. We once again chase the deer, shuffling below trees that remember our ancestors; crossing creeks still eager to quench the thirst of the wild man, an animal who knows the cure to the pain, that isn’t afraid to hurt to find it.