Iz been tinkin’ of you quite a bit recently. Like alls the time. When I wakes up. When I drives in my car. When I bushes me teeth. Pretty much whenever I’m awake and about half the time when I’m asleep. Shhhhh. Don’t tell da wife. She might get jealous. ‘Specially about the sleep part.

I had so much fun running your younger brother the 100 mile last month. Like probably the most fun I’ve ever had running 100 miles. Which usually isn’t very fun towards the end. (or da middle if I’m being honest) And I’m not even sure why. The scenery was kinda generic. The volunteers were very sparse. (and were wearing name tags in stores) But the race just connected in an almost spiritual way.

hic

Now I know I said I had no interest in you. And I meant it went I said it. For reelz. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you scarez me. Like really, really, really, really scares me. Like I have to leave the lights on when I go to bed scarez me. Or is that growth contagious scares me. Or what do you mean you’re pregnant scares me. Or . . .

What were we talking about again?

Oh, right. So 200 miles. Even though I’ve finished a bunch of 100s and many more ultras by this point, it’s difficult to fully wrap my head around 200 miles. Sure, I know it’s twice 100 miles. Iz not a complete moron. But there’s a big difference between knowin something in me head and fully getting it in me heart. I know I can cover 100 miles, but I have no idea if I can do twice that. Or how long it’ll take. Or when I’ll need to sleep. Or where. Or how much my feel will hurt or my pack chafe.

Basically, twice the distance means there’s four times as much chance of something going wrong. That can’t be right. Two plus two means. . . five. My bad. I’m usually much better at math. Five times the number of things will go wrong and six of those will probably be things I’ve never encountered before in a race.

So while I’ve been obsessed thinking about you, I’ve shied away from your Ultrasignup page because I didn’t want to be tempted. Well, I did want to be tempted. But I didn’t as well. If that makes any sense. Which it probably doesn’t. In the end, I just couldn’t resist you. You had me at Walnut Beach. So I just signed up for the race scare of my life. Tis the season I guess.

See you in April.

Phil

P.S. Iz possivle I may have had too much to drink. Nawwwwww. I’m ‘kay. Der’s no chance I could possively regret dis.

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