• When: 2018-09-22
  • QIC: Co-Pay
  • The PAX: F3 Nation

2018 Table Rock Ultra Marathon Pre-Blast

The SAUPIEST of the CSAUPs: Table Rock Ultra Marathon

The Fluff (Skip to Bottom for the Details)

EH friends, they say. Give it away, they say.
Well, I did that. Brought a “friend” out to a typical Thunder workout, had a great time. Then, some time after COT…
Paperboy says to my FNG, “You guys doing Table Rock, right?”
FNG looks at me and says, “Yeah, WE’LL do that.”
I say, “Yeah, ok.” I had casually mentioned thinking about Table Rock in a previous conversation, clearly my commitment level was not conveyed properly. You see, I had never run a marathon. In fact, I had never run more than 13.1 miles and that was about 4 years prior… in Columbia, no mountains in sight. It didn’t involve 6,000′ of elevation gain, or descent. It ended 3 miles short of this view from mile 16 (yeah, you have to climb THAT, after running ~17 miles)…

But… BUT… once you get to the top of that thing it’s almost all down hill from there, and only another 13 miles. But… BUT…. the downhill is worse than the uphill… trust me, or pretty much everyone that has descended that beast, it’s horrible.

Somewhere around mile 28 (2 miles beyond my first marathon) I was ready to slap Paperboy, my mom, his mom, the Pope, added a bunch more F’s to F3, contemplated all the ways I could destroy my watch… I was in a dark place. My legs were trashed… I was running backwards, sideways, started contemplating bear crawling and crab walking, but wasn’t fully confident I would be able to get back on my feet… I had nothing left.

Then I hit a meadow, more like a hay field but we’ll call it a meadow, a beautiful meadow signaling the end was near. As I meandered through the meadow I glanced back at the crap hole in the woods that shat me out just as that same crap hole shat out Paperboy. I started to wait, not sure if I was ready to punch him the face or give him a hug, but my legs said no, they said, let’s go get that hoodie.

I left a lot of time on that Mountain, now it’s time for revenge… and I lost my 2017 hoodie. Yup, that’s right, I once ran 32 miles over a mountain for a stupid hoodie, and I don’t know where it is. But you aren’t so bright yourself, you read all of this. That means, you’re thinking about doing it. Don’t. Don’t do it.

And be careful who you EH. They might actually show up. Next thing you know, you’re running sideways down a mountain wondering how far you can throw your $300 Garmin.

The Details