So, there's this race in Winston-Salem the weekend I move there, ya'know? It's called the Frosty 50K. 31 miles, which is less than five miles more than a marathon. which really isn't much, except that it's five miles more than a marathon.
Anyway, I was looking the elevation profile from someone who ran part of the course earlier in the year. It was 3,000 feet in 11 miles.
I'm not so good at math, but that works out to something like 300 feet per mile, which is like climbing a 30 story building. Every. Flipping. Mile. So if I do my 50K, it'll be like a climbing to the top of 900 floors of buildings which I can't blast down because demolishing mountains without ready access to coal is economically unfeasible.
I nearly hurt myself today doing Pontiac Rec, a relatively difficult trail run that has elevation change of 1,600 feet in 16 miles. One third the elevation change per mile. OMG. I am wuss. I had to walk up a few of those buggers because I just didn't have the steam to run up them. I didn't have the steam to jog up them. When I found myself doing this sort of slow, weak hop barely putting one foot in front of the other, I decided it would be better bitchslap my pride and walk.
Am I going to do this 50K? I really hope so. Am I going to be walking the day afterward?
... Hm. I'll have to get back to you on that one.