When I was younger and an athlete, I learned to will myself to the starting line. It wasn’t easy because my body knew exactly what was in store for it. My stomach would revolt and threaten to vomit at the starting line. Nerves have a sixth sense, or some kind of knowledge gleaned through the accumulation of DNA over a million generations. My body knew the hell that I was about to sacrifice it to and it wanted no part of it. My bowels were dead set to vacate themselves. Fortunately, my DNA didn’t understand timing and starting guns, and I was usually off and racing before my body could erupt itself in protest. Which is why core strength is paramount for racing.

I finished up the work week in good shape. I couldn’t finish everything but work is never done, that’s why they call it work. I’ll keep a stub of things yet to be figured out in my head for the run. Lots of thoughts will traverse my mind over the six hours it will take me to run the Desert Rats 50K in Fruita this Saturday. Or seven hours. Or eight hours. I really hope it’s six hours.

I can’t recall the last time I was nervous at the starting line. After a couple of decades off from racing, I got back into it in my fifties. I always felt so happy at the start to the marathons and trail runs and various events I signed up for over the last decade. Now I’m in my sixties and I’ve had some lapses in my conditioning. After a broken shoulder, Covid, and well, a real cold, I’m set to run 31 miles this Saturday. I haven’t put in the miles for this and my body knows it.

But my wife nursed me through a diet to do what she could to get my weight down, and honestly, my weight alone gives me tremendous confidence. I can run anything at 175 pounds. I can run all day long. It would help me to run faster had I put in the miles, but who needs to run fast at 61 years of age? No one will even ask me what my time was. They’ll be happy to see me finish. I can finish by walking in the final 15 miles if I need to.

So I won’t be nervous, despite my dearth of conditioning. And I won’t be able to help myself from being happy standing at that starting line on the Kokopelli Trail in the high desert of Colorado. My daughter will be standing there with me. We’ll learn something of one another after 31 miles. Assuming I can hang with her youth. I know how special it is to be able to run an ultra with my daughter. I’ll be happy standing at that starting line.