Short story: This past weekend I tried to do to things - Jerker’s and jLu’s wedding and the Angeles Crest 100 - and I did both of them poorly. I didn’t fully engage in the wedding of two great friends and AC was a complete bust.
Longer story: I should have seen this coming. Life has been thick these last few months: the loss of Maggie’s father, McMahon’s death, finishing up and defending the dissertation, travel, illness, real estate transactions, move prep…not to mention keeping up with Ainslie and Charlotte. The wrong time to attempt a 100, yet I somehow thought I could thread the needle. Truth be told, I probably didn’t think I could do it and that ended up being the problem. 100-milers will find your weakness and while my body was strong, perhaps as strong as ever, my mind was tired and weak. When it came time to crowd all else out and zero the the focus, I was not up to the challenge and was left shattered and uninterested in suffering any further.
Sure, I probably could have stumbled through the night to eek out a finish, but that would have left me completely shattered. We are moving this week and prospect of being a crappy husband and father for my family was not an option. The choice to drop was not really a choice at all. The choice to start, however, is the one I regret. I did not respect the distance, my limits, and my own family and that is the part the hurts.
So the focus is now squarely where it should be - Maggie, Ainslie, Charlotte, Piper, Montana, UM and setting the stage for a successful new phase of life.
I’ll run and race again, but not until there is ample space.
Great thanks to George and Matt for enthusiastically supporting my exploration of futility and of course to Maggie, for being there when I got home.