It's always about the people
I'll miss the community, shared suffering (and shared triumph), the silliness, absurdity, and challenge of the entire endeavor. Mostly, I'll miss the people. It's always about the people.
Writing
I write something after every big race, usually a few weeks later, and it's usually more about the people than the miles. It all lives on Substack. This page is just the index.
Mine
I'll miss the community, shared suffering (and shared triumph), the silliness, absurdity, and challenge of the entire endeavor. Mostly, I'll miss the people. It's always about the people.
I was an athlete as a kid. I loved the feeling of running hard, of competing, of seeing what I was capable of. I remember, as a young athlete, how meaningful it was to me when people showed up to my games.
Running ultras has never really been about running or the numbers. It's about people, community, connection, and adventure. It's about experiencing the beauty of the world. It's about doing something really hard and feeling gratitude for all that the body is capable of.
A third solo run from Los Angeles to Las Vegas, this time as part of Team Solo.
A year ago, on my way to finishing 300 miles from LA to Vegas. Looking back before heading to the start line again.
It was a tough decision because my wife was pregnant with our first child, and the race was when the baby would be about 2.5 months old. The final 2.5 months of training would be as a new parent, with a newborn.
Running the solo, and then coming back for the relay on the same stretch of desert.
Flying to Chile to run across the Atacama desert was going to be expensive and missing Thanksgiving with my family was tough to do.
I've spent the last week feeling proud, loved by my community, sad it's over, and uncertain about what's next. Just like during a 300 mile race, the feelings come in waves. The unsurprising headline: running is a team sport, and I've got the best team.
Nothing here yet.
Elsewhere