Petite Feet Runaway

The blame for my Cateran entry this year lies with Sandra and Ian Beattie. After mustering up the courage to take off my coat at their wedding (who knew I would gain so much weight and not be able to fit a dress I had worn six weeks prior?), I began consuming a few beverages and busting some moves on the d-floor. A conversation took place with Karen and George whereby we all confessed love for one another and the Cateran trail in general. By the end of the night Scott had agreed to do the 55-miler and I was set up to enter the 110. What was I thinking? Two serious concerns; 1 - I am a huge unfit piece of lard unable to run 110 miles, and 2 - there is no way I could get the Friday off work to start the double. Fortunately in the morning we came to our senses. Scott would marshal and I would do the 55.  I figure 55 miles is ploddable without training and the undulations in the route made it more forgiving on us unfit. A solid story which boosted my confidence. I like to run Donald-styl

New races are popping up everywhere lately. Ultras are the new aerial yoga. Fast runners are running them. Slow runners are running them. Non runners are running them (therefore becoming runners or maybe just proving you can walk them). Even dogs are allowed to run some of them. Having just run a 'new' ultra; the John Muir 50km Ultra, I've been thinking about creating my own. I just need to decide my direction... There are already some pretty cool race concepts out there.  One of my favourite ultra running experiences was running my first ultra; the Caesar Camp 50 miler. Other than being a low-key, no nonsense event, its concept is similar to most in that you just run a certain distance. The reason it is such a good memory though (other than I ran it with my father) is that I got such a huge sense of accomplishment from just completing my first ultra. There was nothing to judge myself against and more importantly nowadays, nobody else to judge me. Once you have comple