This year, for my birthday, which is over seven months away, I signed up for something.
My final attempt at a 100-mile run at 55 years old. I will toe the line when I turn 56.
Thirty hours. One flat trail. Just me, my mind, and the question I’ve apparently decided I’m not done answering yet: Can I finish a 100 mile race and get the buckle?
The truth is, I’m not the same runner I was the last time I took on this distance. I’m a little older. A little slower. A wee bit heavier. And, a little more aware of what 100 miles actually demands physically, mentally, emotionally.
And still… I signed up anyway.
Not because I think it will be easy. Not because I’m chasing some perfect finish time. But because there’s something unfinished here. Something that keeps tapping me on the shoulder, quietly but persistently, saying: You’re not done yet.
So here we are.
This time feels different, though.
I’m going to write a weekly training update, similar to what I did while training for the Leadville 100, which I didn’t finish.
I’m committing to showing up every week, sharing the highs, the lows, the small wins, and the messy middle. Not just for anyone reading, but for myself.
I want this to be fun, too.
Somewhere along the way, in the grind of miles and expectations, it’s easy to forget that choosing to run 100 miles is a little unhinged.
AND, also kind of magical. It’s a privilege to test your limits like this and to have a healthy body and mind to try.
So this is me, choosing both: the challenge and the joy.
If nothing else, this will be a record of showing up and being consistent.
On my birthday, I’ll step onto that flat trail with 30 hours ahead of me and a version of myself that’s been built, one week at a time, right here.
Let’s see what happens.
—Week 0 begins now.
