Anecdote number four.
Long story short: The summer before my freshman year of college, I finished reading Christopher McDougall’s Born To Run and wanted to jump up and run to Ann Arbor from home, a distance of about 23 miles. Thankfully, my dad nixed that idea, but suggested an alternate loop that he ran, which was closer to 17 miles (and, although he didn’t say it, would be easier to pick me up on if I needed saving). I seem to have a knack for choosing hot summer days for my key running moments, because this was a high-80s July afternoon. I took 8 oz. of water and a blueberry NutriGrain bar and set off. It was a good run – hot and tiring, but good. The loop was a basic square formed out of three dirt roads and the rails-to-trails trail. When that trail finally came into view, I started laughing because I was so glad. I knew I only had a couple more miles to go, and I knew that I could do that. I got home and begged my little brother to get a bottle of red Gatorade from the basement for me, because my legs would not be doing those stairs, thank you very much. I spent the remained of the day going to friends’ graduation parties with my parents, which worked out nicely because I was ravenous and those parties are overflowing with food. Boy, did I sleep well that night. I went to bed with a glow, I’m sure.