Tuesday, February 22, 2011

One Hundred Miles in Head Land

by Jason Thompson for UltraRunning

I have blisters on both forefeet. The big toe on my left foot is bruised and sore. My stomach is aching. I feel nauseous to the verge of vomiting. I am light-headed. When I bend to the ground, I almost lose my balance and fall as I stand up again. The night air is soundless but for my own groans. It is so dark under the dense fog cover that when we turn off our headlamps in an attempt to spot the lamps of other runners on the trail snaking down the hill behind us, it is hard to discern any difference in texture between the obscured hills and the obsidian sky. "You remember coming down a wide fire trail like this on one of the earlier loops?" my pacer asks, in an effort to regain our bearings. "It didn't have this many turns," I say.