In my early years of running, the joke was, when you get old and slow, you run ultras and buy Hokas! Well, I for sure ain’t old! And I still got a bit of speed on me still! And Hokas just don’t work for me. So the marathon is where I capped the distance at.

For years, a good ultra buddy of mine and I had this long standing stalemate that we mutually agreed upon. “When you do a tri, I’ll do an ultra.” A gentlemen’s agreement that has stood for about a decade. There we stood, line in the sand, that neither of us would cross.

Until one of us did. I signed up for the Noble Canyon 50K back in May. Equal parts giving in to peer pressure, listening to my mentors to do the scary thing, curiosity in understanding the runner’s POV compared to just coaching it on the sidelines. I always said if I were to do a 50K, Noble Canyon would be it. It also fell on the same day as my birthday. I figured the stars aligned to make this the year to make it happen. So I plunked down my money and put my training plan together.

Sixteen weeks later, here we are stumbling in the dark through the pot hole filled field to pick up my bib.