7am, Manitou Springs City Hall. A scaffolding of banners overhead, beautiful sunny day. Crazy runners crowded onto the street, nervously looking up at the summit 13.32 miles away, trotting back and forth anxiously for quick, last minute trips to the port-a-potties. A goosebump-raising singing of America the Beautiful, a rush of adrenaline and at last: the gun- the moment I’ve waited 365 days for, the official beginning to the celebration of my favorite weekend all year long.

Four…

Tapering – it’s something some runners love, possibly a magical world filled with rainbows and chocolate and ice cream off in the distance dreamed of during long runs in the bulk of training, or something runners hate, loving every single step of their last long run before the dreaded period known as the ‘taper’.

While I know plenty of people that covet the taper, counting down the days towards its commencement, I am of the opposite party – I (hmm not quite hate, but let’s go with it)…

For years on many runs, I’ve asked myself, “WHY?” Why do I spend hours upon hours, miles upon miles working and enduring pain, frequently to come to an injury? (Knock on wood that won't happen again this year!) I started out my Pikes Peak running with that thought – why in the world am I doing this? When I could be peacefully wrapped in a dream? When I wouldn’t have to be trudging after my mom, vowing to myself that after this ‘stupid’ Ascent, I’ll never set foot on this dumb mountain…