Black Mountain Monster: Brain and Body finish the Conversation.

Sometime around 10 p.m. on the Black Mountain course.  (On little uphill on the section of single track in the woods after the paved section.  You know where I mean.)

Body:  Hey, Brain, we're doing great!  We've been plugging along for over 40 miles now!

Brain:  Umm, I wouldn't say we're doing great.  It took us over 12 hours to do it. And we're getting lapped by everyone, even the lap counters.  And you're limping.

Body:  Are you living back in 2010 or something?  We've been reconstructed.  Things still aren't working right.  We're wearing this flipping brace that irritates the heck out of us. 

Brain:  But I wanted everything to feel good and work right.  It's been nine months.

Body:  The surgeon said we could START running again at 6-9 months.  I'm not really sure what he would think of us running a 24 hour race at this point.  But I'm giving her all she's got, captain.

Brain:  Sigh. You're right.  But I think we should stop after 50 miles.

Body:  Stop?  I don't want to stop.

Brain:  You're limping and I don't really see the point in continuing on just to say we did.

Body:  But you know how these runs work.  If we just keep moving, we'll stack up a lot of miles.  I can do it.  I can keep moving.  See?  We're moving now.  And I only limp some of the time.

Brain:  I think I just received a message from the knee.  Yes, I did.  It said, "Ouch!"

Body: What happened to "suck it up, buttercup?"  Oh, I get it.  You're that evil twin Brain.  The one that shows up when we are really tired and can come up with 100 logical and rational reasons we should stop. You aren't fooling me.

Brain:  Look, we've had a good day.  We've seen lots of people we haven't seen in a long time and we've had fun.  Quit arguing.  We're going to try something new and stop BEFORE we are miserable.

Brain got the last word, because Body went into flight or fight mode as a gigantic, screaming, squealing, high speed train suddenly came barreling through the woods, twenty feet from the trail, throwing sparks and sounding like at any moment it was going to derail and kill us all.  By the time the adrenaline subsided and Body knew what it was doing, Brain had checked out with the lap counter.

52.7 miles in 14:01, run in memory of Angela Ivory.  For some reason I heard footsteps behind me all day.  It was making me crazy turning around looking and finding no one there trying to pass me.  Although it was probably something I was wearing, I would like to think it was Angela out there, enjoying an ultra one more time.