• Georgia Jewel 50, Georgia Jewel, 50 mile race, 100-miler training, ultra running, trail running, Pinhoti 100, training for a 50 mile race, lessons learned in 50 mile race
    100 Miler Training,  50 Miler Training,  Race Reports,  Running,  Trail Running,  Ultra Training

    Georgia Jewel 50 Race Recap

    I did it! I finished the Georgia Jewel 50 feeling like a million bucks, which officially makes me a 50-mile ultra runner. This post will be long, because 50-mile races are long. If you’re too busy/important/ADD to read the entire post, here’s the Cliff Notes version: Finished in 13:48. Rained all day. Loved almost every moment. Felt great at the end. Ready for my 100. If you’re dying to hear more (you know you are), here we go! I was a mixture of nonchalant (just a supported long run, not a race) and freaking the fuck out (it’d still me my first official 50-miler) leading up to Jewel. My plan was to go…

  • 13.1 sticker, car run sticker, ultra runner, marathon, run car decal, 100 mile race, 50 mile race
    Running

    Why I Don’t Care That You Hate My 13.1 Sticker

    Oh hey, Brian. Loved your blog post. I know I’m a little late to the game, but I still wanted drop a line and tell you how wonderful it is that you hate my 13.1 sticker (EDIT—he deleted his post! GONE! Wimp.). Or actually, my 50K sticker. Yikes—even worse. I feel you. I really do. There are car stickers that I hate (looking at you, Auburn fans) and am more likely to give the finger to or blow my horn at those drivers. But I’m here to defend my 50K sticker, just as those drivers would defend theirs. I totally agree that putting a sticker on your car with the distance…

  • x rays, ultra runner, 50 mile race, Mississippi 50, hip bones
    50 Miler Training,  Running

    The Hip Bone’s Connected To The…

    So I wrote last week about how I skipped all of my Miami runs for a mysterious groin/hip injury. I also wrote yesterday about how I tried to pace the hubs at the Mercedes Marathon, failed halfway through, and was left walking like a rocking horse—as Zack affectionately calls my limp. Tired of me bitching yet? All jokes aside, my hip hurt like a motherfucker post-race on Sunday. And I can tolerate pain. It was bad enough for me to drag myself to the doctor first thing Monday morning, where I had x rays taken, my range of motion checked, and my fashionista card revoked. The x rays didn’t show…