Run a trail ultra-marathon

“We kept trucking along, riding the high of seeing friends/family at mile 19 as long as we could, our run slowly turning into a shuffle and our uphills morphing into a hike. My Garmin died around mile 24 and it was difficult not knowing how much farther there was to go. Miles 25 to 28 or so were pretty rough with more walking than running, the blisters on the feet were getting hard to ignore, although I was happy not to have any deep muscle pains or cramps. [...] The last .6 miles was the best part of the race, knowing that the end is near, that the road to get here, as hard, uncomfortable and anxiety ridden as it had been, was worth it.”

“Eventually, we settled into a steady rhythm. As we reached the turnaround, I inched closer to him, allowing his body to cut through the wind. We clipped away, mile after mile. It amounted to an amazing moment. I felt myself storing dozens of snapshots I knew I’d remember for years to come. It was the weirdest cocktail of pain, effort, and inspiration I had ever experienced. [...] Each step carried me beyond any known limits. After hours of running, my body was wrecked. Swollen feet ached under the pressure of tightening shoelaces. My shoulders were tense from the strain of endless pumping and carrying pounds of supplies. My legs, bricks.”