The Fear of DNF

When I run my mind likes to wander. Even though I know exactly where my feet are going, it’s always a mystery where my mind will take me and where it’ll end up. One particular day I was contemplating the meaning of life and whether I had the guts and ability to run a 50 mile ultramarathon. While I have ran a couple marathons and plenty of smaller races, an ultra is way beyond anything I have ever experienced before. All I could think of was my dead body being medivacked off the course, which then reminded me of my very first (and last) bicycle race.

When I was in high-school I was obsessed with bicycling. I religiously read my Bicycling magazine from cover to cover, absorbing every little tip and trick. I would spend hours tuning, cleaning and buffing my Trek 830 Antelope until it gleamed. I would swap out components for newer and better ones. I spent hundreds of dollars on Paul Love Levers when they first came out (kudos if you remember these). While I could rattle off a plethora of bicycling facts, when it came to actually bicycling, the only places I rode were to the bookstore and the grocery store…

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