My First 50-Mile Ultra-Marathon

And subsequent Britney Spears meltdown

I’ve always had a fascination with doing hard things.

There’s something special about reaching your personal point of breaking and then continuing on despite the pain.

Nothing else matters when the only thing on your mind is putting one foot in front of the other.

The problems of the world fall away and all that remains is one single question?

Can you take just one more step?

Setting the stage

They say that a true friend is someone you can call in the middle of the night to pick you up.

But what do you call someone who is willing to wake up in the middle of the night to run for 12 consecutive hours alongside you?

I’ll let you decide.

I call them my people and last Saturday two buddies and I attempted an unsupported 50-mile ultra-marathon. Unsupported meant there would be no aid stations, no medals, and no one to save us if we collapsed on the side of the road.

Our only break would be about 26 miles in, where we would change clothes, slam electrolytes, and attempt to stomach a PB&J sandwich.