A short while ago, I mentioned a realization I had at some point during the 50-miler. I say “at some point” because the events thereof have merged together in my mind; I can only remember bits and pieces and the overall gist of the experience. Grinding pain takes its toll on the memory. Anyway, at some point during the race, I realized that I am capable of the 100.

Before my first ultra, 50 miles seemed nearly impossible. It was close to twice the longest I had ever run. Now the 100-miler has that honor. It’s twice the longest distance I’ve ever run. It seems nearly impossible.

But during my ultra, I discovered that the 100-mile is within my reach. It will require specialized training, eating, and everything else, but my body is capable of running 100 miles. I don’t plan on doing this next week; in fact, it may be a couple years before I attempt it. But the 50-miler put it into perspective; it shattered the ceiling of my limits, and replaced it with one far higher.

This, in a nutshell, is why I run.