On August 13, while running the Scenic Douglas-Sarpy Hills, the only ultramarathon in Nebraska came up in conversation.
The Bohemian Alps 50K.
At the time, the only thing appealing to me was that it was the same weekend as the Corporate Cup. The scale was basically even in my mind: A slow, hilly 50K at my own pace or a fast, flat, butt-busting 10K at my maximum effort.
A definite tie for horribility (if drinkability is a word, so is this one).
I was terrified of anyone knowing what I was thinking of doing, and decided that if I were to run the Bohemian Alps, it would be a secret.
I didn't want to hear or discuss anything about it. No training, nutrition, pains, hills, distances, money, race plans, strategies, fears, expectations, or anything along these lines. I just pretended it wasn't happening. I didn't want to be blamed for any imbalance of family life, and I didn't feel it was necessary to be anyone's inspiration.
We have a handful of superb athletes and individuals who just completed Ironman triathlons - now that's inspiration...nobody can tackle that feat without dreaming big and working hard to reach those goals.
This wasn't like that. This wasn't Leadville. This was just something I wanted to do, for me. Like instant gratification on no training or planning. Almost unprepared. All I had to go on was my fitness level from 2011, minus the injuries in my lower right quadrant.
Yes, I supposed this was my own selfish gift to myself.
I just read your report and I can definitely appreciate the decision and the need to go out and do a race just for you. I go nuts sometimes juggling life and working nights and would give anything to jet off to a race in the middle of nowhere!
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