Pre-Race Non-Thoughts

Trying to find something to say about my pending race, because I feel like there should be words here for it. 50 miles is a long way, long enough to appear something of an impossible stunt to my new coworkers, who haven't been introduced to ultramarathons as things that exist. But I don't have much to tell them, nor do I have much to tell you.

It is a silly thing I'm about to do. No arguing that.

And yet.

It should be a beautiful night. 

Things are good. Fitness is better than ever. Nothing hurts. 

I'm not nervous, not scared. It's just running. It might hurt, though. Almost certainly will, in fact. And? 

Not excited really, either. No anxiety at all. No nervous energy. It's just a run. Go cruise. Let the hills do the work and turn your legs over. Chill. 

You run 50 miles the same as you run 5 - one step at a time. Bullshit cliche but the race goes through a lot of pasture and so there will be plenty more bullshit to come. I'm just getting comfortable. Anyway, neither your legs nor your mind can cover the distance at once, so don't try. 

So... No goals? Time? Place?

Honestly, I've got them. I'd like to run fast. Goal is 8, or a little under; and I think I could flirt with 7, if everything clicks. If that happens, looking at the rest of the field, I guess I'll probably win. 

But shit, I don't know. And truthfully, honestly, my only real goal is to have a sensation-filled run. I want to feel. Good? Bad? Everything. I'm looking for an endorphin bath, not a belt buckle.

(Sitting here for thirty minutes. Can't think of a tidy or profound ending. That's it? That's it.)