Dropping

Dropping, not to be confused with Lance Armstrong and "Doping", is similar to the feeling you get when walking down a flight of stairs and you think there is one more step but when you step down you bottom out and your stomach smashes against your spleen...

And you drop.

I took the phone call about two weeks ago.  It was my boss and one doesn't generally ignore calls from the boss if one desires to keep one's job.  "I need you to attend this conference in Austin.  You'll have to be there on Sunday, February 3rd at 1:00pm."

And I dropped.

To understand the significance of this, you must realize that my whole YEAR has been leading up to Saturday, February 2nd (Happy Birthday, Mom).  Rocky Raccoon was to be my first 100 mile race.  No small task in the undertaking; no small feat in the preparation.  To run 100 miles, I planned on spending at least 24 hours on the trail.  Although it was very likely and even probable that I would be out for more like 28-30 hours.  The race begins on Saturday, Feb. 2nd at 6 am.

What my boss told me essentially was that I would have to start running at 6AM on Saturday.  Run all night.  Finish (assuming I did) the race in 28 hours or so.  Shower and change clothes.  Then make the 3 hour drive to Austin in about an hour and a half to check into the conference and spend the rest of the day (on NO sleep) going over financial statements on loan compliance.

Impossible, you say. 
Maybe for others. 
But for me.............................................................Impossible.

And I dropped.

I contacted the race director, who happens to be a very understanding man, and despite the fact that the refund deadline had already passed, he allowed me to drop from the 100 mile race to the 50 mile race.

I will still run, I will still ache when it's over.  I will still hold my head high and proudly cross that finish line and display my finishers medal on my wall...but I will have to wait for my first 100 miler.