Reality Check

I can't do an ultramarathon. Check that-my body won't let me do an ultramarathon. So, it's over. Let me explain (not that anybody reads this damn blog.)

I've been running off and on since I was seven. That's a lot of miles ago. I ran before running was the thing and I ran big distances when I was young. Really young. I ran the Atlanta Marathon when I was 15. Stupid but I did it. The local pizza shop where I worked sponsored me. I was a pretty good high school cross-country runner until a girl named Michelle and a horrific case of mono. I spent 2 weeks in the hospital and I was never the same runner.

But I digress.

Over the past three years, my kness have steadily gotten more and more painful. I've ignored them, had three MRIs, been told I needed to have them cleaned out, etc. So, in typical dumbass fashion, I decided to do an ultra. My reasoning was that I would get this done BEFORE my knees were totally shot. It didn't work.

I can't climb stairs.
I can't get into my truck without pulling myself in with the steering wheel.
I can't step off a curb without pain.
I can't walk down an hill without significant pain.
I'm taking 2400 mg of Ibruprofen and it doesn't help.

I'm done with serious running. I think I can run a half with just major pain (at least I'll be able to walk the next day.) My marathon days are over-I know that now. An ultra is simply beyond what my body will do anymore. My heart is willing to endure some pain but I'm thinking I'll destroy what's left of my knees if I continue with this madness.

So, it's over. I'm still doing 70.3s as it's a distance my body can handle and I love the sport of triathlon. I've scheduled 3 centuries for this winter as I love the bike (thanks Dave). I'm going to teach myself to swim well.

And, I'll continue to run. Slowly and miserably (regerism.)

I ran 12 yeaterday and tried to do the follow up 8 mile run today. My right knee buckled at 3 miles and I sat in the dirt and faced reality.

Hard. And as Hemingway said, "it's an ugly bastard." Damn right.

So, that's it. $200 in entry fees wasted. Who cares? I can't do the training so I damn sure wouldn't finish the races.

It just sucks. I've never felt more old in my life. I've got a wife and kid to consider. I guess it's time to acknowledge that I'm not 21 anymore. I just can't handle the miles+pain+reality.

Shit.