Horizontal Sisyphus
Doomed to Run Back and Forth Until I Finish the Umstead 100
Forty six days. When the idea started to dance in my head, I had more than two years. Once the decision was made, I had a year. When I committed, I had six months. Even the start of the training plan gave me 24 weeks of breathing room. Now I have six week and four days. The Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run may as well be tomorrow.
When I volunteered at Aid Station 2 in 2023, I could not help but picture myself running Umstead as my first 100 miler in a couple of years. In 2024, when I saw my friend Jen blow through Aid Station 2 for the final time on her way to her first 100-mile finish, I knew I would be toeing the line in 2025. Feeling excited was easy then. But a little more than six weeks out, it is easier to feel scared.
Have I done enough? Who knows, I have never run this far before. When it comes up organically, I will mention that I finished the Uwharrie 100K in October (I am also happy to force it into conversation or write about it on the internet). People will respond that Umstead will be a cake walk if I was able to finish Uwharrie. That was four months ago. I have managed to make all my long runs, except a week ago when I came up sick. I muddle through most of my weekday miles without much issue and I still have a 50-mile run and a marathon between now and the big day. Hopefully it will be enough.
A few weeks ago, I noticed someone giving away a marathon entry on Facebook. She cited a couple of injuries. I looked them up. They sounded a lot like what I have been running through all winter. My patellar tendon flairs up about 10 miles into a run and makes me think I need to quit the sport all together before it calms down and goes away five minutes later. Backing off this last week has seemed to help that pain, along with some other issues I have been having with my lower leg that I was worried could be a stress fracture.
I picked this race for a reason. It is my backyard. Well, 40 minutes away. I get to train on the course every single weekend. I am lucky. But bored. Back and forth. Over and over. Until I die. Like a horizontal Sisyphus. I start at one parking lot and run the entire length of the course to the other parking lot and back again. Week after week. If (when) I finish this thing, I may get a tattoo of myself rolling a boulder up a slight incline with someone telling me, “it gets better.”
I worry I will not be able to get my diet under control in time. Some folks have drugs. Some have alcohol. I have food. Unfortunately, there is no War on Food so I stand alone in my struggle. If anyone needs an example of “you cannot outwork a bad diet,” feel free to pull up my Instagram.
Despite all of this, I want that buckle. I do not want to have to go back again next year. But I worry I have not done enough. That I will get bored and sabotage myself between now and race day. That I will show up on race day too fat. I ran 24 miles this weekend. I got it done. I felt good at the end. But I can barely picture myself adding three more of those onto the end and still not being done. In addition to my running, my writing has also introduced doubt. My last three race posts (one still to be released) have all been about my recent DNFs. It is hard not to let those thoughts creep into my head when thinking about Umstead.
There’s a lot of doubt heading into my peak weeks, but I do have one more ace in the hole. People. I did not finish Uwharrie. I took every step, but I did not finish it. We finished. It will be the same at Umstead. My wife will be at home with the kids, like every weekend, while I am out running back and forth. Jen will be my crew chief and I will lean heavily on her experience. Buzby, who has run several training runs with me for this race, will pace my fifth lap. Barry, my best friend and reason I do this stupid stuff, will carry me through the night for laps six and seven. And Tony is lined up for a repeat performance as my pacer on the final lap. I do not think I could have put together a better team.
So maybe I am not that scared.
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Steak and eggs. Eggs and steak.