One Day, 50K

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“Struggling and suffering are the essence of a life worth living. If you’re not pushing yourself beyond the comfort zone, if you’re not demanding more from yourself – expanding and learning as you go – you’re choosing a numb existence. You’re denying yourself an extraordinary trip.”
― Dean KarnazesUltramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner

As I get older the desire to push and push and push myself until I reach my physical limits is growing stronger. I don’t know where this need is coming from, but reading Karnazes’ words makes me wonder — is this an attempt to expand my parameters? To push away from a numb existence by taking myself to the brink?

Let’s back up a bit.

Several months ago, Sireen accidentally discovered the One Day Hike while shopping at REI. In a conversation with one of the associates, she learned about this 100K challenge hike that happened every year on the C&O Canal. It sounded interesting to her, and she told me about it while we were on one of our hikes. I was also intrigued, and as soon as I had access to the internet, I got my Google on to learn more.

I’d been seriously thinking about taking on a challenge. Four years ago, I completed the two-day, 39.3 mile Avon Walk. I loved the experience, but I struggled to reach the $1,800 fundraising minimum. I missed having a big goal to work up to, but I didn’t know if I could handle taking on a major fundraiser on top of training and my other responsibilities. With 100K and 50K options and no fundraising requirement, it looked like the One Day Hike could be my new outlet. Excited, we both signed up when registration opened in January and started training to tackle 31.1 miles in a single day.

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18 Miles to Failure

C&O Canal

The first mile is always the hardest.

It doesn’t matter that I walk everywhere – to the grocery store, to the metro, to restaurants – it’s always hard for me to get started. I tend to be stiff in the beginning. I feel it in my stance. I do this weird thing where I start tensing up my right foot, flexing it too much until I start getting that uncomfortable pre-Charlie horse feeling.

And then, after the first mile, I start to relax. My foot chills out, and I settle into a rhythm. I start to exist just from the waist down. Everything that I am is focused on my hips, my thighs, my knees, my calves, and my feet. It becomes harder to slow myself to a stop than it is to keep going and going and going forever.

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