“If I met success with every essay or with every run, well, it would become common and thus would lose its intensity. For that reason I say, bring on the failure. Bring on the defeat. Bring on the misery and the vast discomfort. I embrace it because it readies my psyche to celebrate, sometimes, in a way only those who willingly and gratefully endure these things can know.” -- Unknown
Watching the misery and triumph last weekend at El Scorcho Sin Lun6, the gravity of what is coming in February finally sunk in. I haven't attempted to run 100 miles in two years. The closest I've gotten is 50 miles--nothing to scoff at, but a universe away from the century mark.
Lots of changes need to be made to get to the finish line.
The toughest one is going to be diet. Since getting in decent shape thirteen years ago, I've been able to pretty much eat whatever I want without much of an impact on my physique or performance. Well, now that I am firmly in my mid-thirties (having turned 35 yesterday), I've come to grips with the inevitable onset of genetics and aging. A decade ago, my twenty year old metabolism could handle damn near anything I threw at it. Today, well, that extra slice of pizza tends to hang around my mid-section a bit more prevalently.
As the adage goes, garbage in is garbage out.
I've been inspired by Nell, whose post-pregnancy discipline has been nothing short of amazing. Despite having to sit across the dinner table and watch Ezra and me shovel all things carbohydrate down our gullets, she has maintained a positive attitude while sating herself on a steady stream of vegetables and lean protein. Combined with early morning runs, yoga, weightlifting, and some insane Gillian Michaels DVD, she has shed the baby weight and added muscle and tone.
So I better get my shit together, lest I be left on the couch. It won't be fun, at least not at first, but nothing worth doing comes easily.
Training, on the other hand, will be much better. I like to train. I like my long runs, hitting the weights, crosstraining. It's a bit harder to schedule with two kids and a lean, mean, ripped spouse, but we can make it work.
Much rambling, but there it is. See you on the trail, amigos.