|Hundo prep. My cheat sheet.|
She doubts me. A lot of people do. Even people very close to me doubt me. Despite the fact that I'm stronger than I ever have been in my life. Despite the fact that I know I have the capacity to endure. Despite the fact that I have persevered through pain and distance before. Despite the fact that the trail runner inside me is clawing to climb up mountains and run steep descents. Yeah. I haven't been running mountains lately (except small mileage in my valley's steeps and canyons and that descent on the Flume Trail which jacked up my achilles), but these three facts remain now: I'm solid. I'm strong. I'm ready.
I CAN DO THIS.
I WILL SHOW HER.
That little bitch in my head will only hold me back and keep me from achieving a goal that could possibly teach me something about myself. So I'm killing her. She has no right to be in my head right now and regardless of what she thinks I have every right to be on that starting line come Saturday.
So while I'm focusing on mostly mobility and the last of my speedwork/interval running this past week I've been in the process of killing a part of myself. Its a weird transformation since I'm literally visualizing myself lying on the ground in a violent heap of suffering - on the edge of death or unconsciousness. But the me that's on the ground is a fucking pussy and she bleeds self-doubt, fear, and negativity. She tries to control me. I want to show her that I won't tolerate her shit-talking anymore. I won't let her build nests of worry in my head anymore. She will not control me. She will no longer tell me what I can and can't do.
I'm just hoping she's not as strong as I am right now. Its gonna be one hell of a fight if that's the case.
It's obvious that my physical challenges are no longer my only challenges for this upcoming 100 miler. The physical challenges are in some ways easier to deal with. I can work a calf knot out. I can even run an ultra on bruised and aching feet if I have to, I've done it before, but its really hard to battle the doubt and the head games I play with myself. So I'm using the only tools I've got - to visualize my crossing the finish line and cramming that little bitch's face into the ground. My mantra: To conquer and dominate. Not only this course, but the little bitch in my head. Right now, I can't imagine anything less if I'm going to finish this thing.
|(Drop bags and gear.)|
Don't be fooled. This is
a highly organized pile of shit.
That's what I've been doing all along. For over a year now - with my training. But still... the unknown distance is scary and whether my training will translate is even scarier. But that's that little bitch talking to me again. She always says I can't do this without running long slow distance. Without putting in the back-to-backs. Without putting time on my feet. I'm surrounded by runners who will tell me the same. I can't do this because I don't train the way they do. How can lifting weights, pushing prowlers, and pulling sleds make me capable of finishing a hundred mile race? Not just any hundred miler, but a truly challenging hundred miler?
But then I look back on my running accomplishments - my first trail marathon, my first ultra, my 100k. Every single one of those races was finished and completed with my strength and conditioning training. Not for one of those did I ever go out and run more than 20 miles a week. Hell, I probably never ran more than 10 miles a week and sometimes not more than 5. My strength and conditioning was enough (and in some cases) more than I needed.
That little bitch...
But, I have a deep respect for hundred milers. I realize that as the miles increase exponentially, experience becomes your biggest asset. THAT, is the one thing that I may be seriously lacking. As we all know, anything can happen the longer you are on the trail. I will concede that my experience map may in fact, be missing. Looks like I will have to learn a thing or two during this hundred miler.
A learning experience and the unknown.
Funny... as scary as it is... I embrace that shit!
BRING. IT. ON.
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