So running has taken me some crazy places (like Antarctica for starters).
Running hasn’t just taken me far geographically, it’s also taken me far in terms of pushing my phsyical and mental limits, as I learned when I ran a 50K. Now, for “real” endurance athletes- Ironmen (and women), runners who run 50 or 100 milers- a 50K isn’t a big deal. But for me, a 50K was a huge deal. I’ve been running for about two years and when I started I struggled to run a mile. I can’t believe how far I’ve come, particularly since the ultra I ran has a reputation for being rather challenging.
So now I can technically say that I’m an “ultra runner” but to be honest, I don’t say it a lot because when I do, I feel like a bit of a sham. Okay, a HUGE sham. My 50K should not be lumped in with people who run 100 miles. I feel like I’m in a weird limbo between marathoners and “real” ultra runners and I don’t like it. Now, I’m not going to go out and run a 100 miler anytime soon (I like sleep and light), but today I kind of shocked myself when I signed up for the JFK 50. Just a few weeks ago, in my Laurel Highlands race report I typed: “Right now I’d think you were crazy if you told me I was going to run a 50 miler or try an Ironman… ” What a difference a few weeks can make.