May the odds be ever in your favor

"...and may the odds be ever in your favor." It's what I imagine the race directors of the Annual Medoc trail marathon and ten miler would say if they stood high on a platform above us on the day of registration for said race.

Registration...is...MINE!!

   While its hard to believe that its already that time of year again, there is no denying the Facebook and Garmin stalking of friends and foes alike, trying to see who is preparing not only to race,  but to register. Then there are the tell-tell internal signs your body gives you. The waking up in the early predawn hours drenched in cold sweat, the frantic checking of the calendar date by the harsh glow of an iPhone screen to make sure you haven't missed registration day. The constant nightmare of having slept in on a weekday, only to realize your spot in the race has been sold to some guy who thought he googled the word "medic,'' saw the race and thought, "Why the hell not?"

   Then there is the maniacal slow ticking of the clock as you sit sweating, like a teenage waiting to meet the father of your prom date, just waiting for the glowing numbers on your computer screen to read 9:00am so you can register. Should my fingers be on the key board? What if all the sweat cause it to short out?? Oh god, what if my computers clock is off and people are already registering??? So why put ourselves through this torture? More so, why do it year after year and encourage our friends? I've thought about this for the past several years, as I've often tried to encourage more and more friends to attend this event. The answer finally came to me this week.

Our version of Thor is a little smaller.

   Medoc is the runner's Valhalla.The race directors swoop down to pick up the greatest of fallen runners and whisk them away to the trails of the mountain where each night the runners feast in the great campsite on pasta and beer, led onto the course in battle the next morning for pr's and course records. The large conch shell is blown by one of the many directors and we are off; blood pumping, neurons firing and hearts pounding as we fly over stones, roots, bridges, and through branches to engage in battle once again. And then, we do it all over the next year. It is a runner's dream to carb load, fight hard for a victory and then...carb load some more...

   But the real magic of Medoc, beyond the beautiful and challenging course, is the people and atmosphere you encounter. Spending time with volunteers who legitimately care, bonding over pre race mornings at the large fire place,and spending the time after the battle reconnecting with other runners and discussing who had the best fall over a well deserved meal of red beans and rice. That's just a few of the many reasons the small race in the middle of no where draws so many runners back over and over again.

   As with every year, I have a plan in place to once again try to at least place in my age group at the Medoc ten mile race. Every year my performance has out shined the year before it, but typically only enough to grant a fifth place. This year I've run two marathon prs, changed my trail name, and even picked up another coach. I've stepped the mileage up to things that would be dangerous between oil changes and I'll fully admit, I am obsessed with getting my hands on one of those pint glass / beer stein awards. By the time I step onto Medoc soil this year my plan is to run fast enough to set fire to the mountain.

   So please, stay with me as I continue to discover more in the wide world of running, and as I update my training and plans to #setfiretothemountain. Thanks for reading, and may the #burritos be with you.

Suck it Smokey.