Considering that I have been cycling like a crazy man lately and completely absorbed in the Tour De France it should come as a surprise that I have enrolled in a running race. My thought is – if you are going to go a do something, dive in headfirst. With that in mind, the race is 100km.

The Oxfam Trailwalker is a 100km trail race with a cut-off time of 48 hours. The race is done in teams of 4 but each person has to complete the full distance. If you think that this seems a little nuts you are probably right because 100km is approximately two and a half marathons in a row. I have a few concerns myself. Namely, I haven’t been seriously running in years nor have I ever run a marathon so fitness may be an issue (and by may, I really mean will). Just to stay positive, let’s assume that I am able to get into marathon shape with ridiculous amounts of training – the race is in 35 days. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t even bother entertaining the thought of joining a team but the person that asked me to join his is, in fact, my boss. To avoid a CLM (career limiting move) I said, “Sign me up!”

So, for the last 2 weeks I have been running every second day simultaneously increasing my distance and questioning my sanity. In an attempt to make me feel better, my new teammates sent me an email highlighting that last year the average team finished the race in 32 hours. For a moment I felt okay until they mentioned that they are targeting 17 hours as our finish time. Most teams sleep for a few hours but for us to hit our target we will be running on hiking trails in the dark for at least 6 hours. The more calculations I do the more I realize that I am in over my head. Tomorrow is the first big test – a 40km training day on the actual course. For those counting, that is marathon distance after 2 weeks of training. I’ve pre-emptively put extra ice cube trays in the freezer for the required post training ice bath. I also have a stash of ibuprofen on my bedside table that would rival a pharmacy.

If you don’t hear from me for a few days, I am likely lost in the bush or in the bathtub and unable to get out. Either way, I’ll be in the fetal position sobbing like a little girl.