I’m injured.

That doesn’t explain my absence. I could have told you a month ago. You could say I’ve been freaking out a little, sure.

I have less than a month and a half before I toe the line of the Red Rock Canyon 50k in Las Vegas. I’ve been training for this race since January.

There is hope.

Right before my knee went all wonky, I had completed several fifteen mile training runs. I even accomplished a bucket list run from my house to the top of a mountain fifteen miles away. It was a literal half-marathon with a 2-mile, 1000ft elevation climb afterwards. I was terribly proud of myself that day. Things were looking up. Red Rock was well within my sights. I could see the proverbial finish line laying in my future.

Then my knee hurt. The pain fell upon me a day after one of my long runs. I had experienced no pain during the run; but I used my new deep-tissue massage gun for the first time afterwards. Whether that was the culprit, I don’t know. I probably sound like an old man by saying that, but ok.


I walked on the treadmill for 30 minutes last night with no pain. And then I did an hour this morning, albeit slower than normal, with only a slight twinge at the end.

I realize that one hour is a far cry from the ten hours it will take me to tackle a 50k, but baby steps.

So will I race in November? Or will my trip to Vegas be a consolation prize for a year of trying? I don’t have any answers yet. I only know what I could do today. Tomorrow, I will try again. And the day after, I won’t know until I get there.

I know this: To quote the bandit; I have a long way to go and a short time to get there.