I was somewhat at a loss last night when asked a seemingly straightforward question: How do you feel after a 100-miler?
Being posed by a rather accomplished runner (i.e., went to high school in Oregon, made it to Footlocker Nationals in XC, and broke one of the H.S. track records formerly held by a Mr. Steve P.), I figured he was looking for a more substantial answer than I can typically posit for a non-runner or a rather ambivalent runner simply giving half-hearted fancy to the idea of a 100. I couldn't simply talk about a "feeling of accomplishment" or "how trashed my body was," nor could I talk about the "mix" of the two that so often accompanies such a tale. These cunningly ephemeral and ambiguous ways of relating an event would not do it justice. This guy wanted a legitimate description.
I didn't know how to give one.
I've run a few hundreds, and I remember in rather vivid detail what they were like, but describing the feeling at the finish is beyond me.
How would you further, perhaps more accurately and precisely describe that finish line feeling?
|Perhaps a decent illustration of this feeling... (?)|