Today, I am beat. I believe it's the culmination of jet lag, yesterday's 3 hour mountain run, and shots of Irish whiskey last evening, but today's 4 mile recovery run was an ass-kicker. I began thinking about how the final 10 miles of the 100 might feel.
Also, my friend Bud has planted the thought of running Hardock - one of the toughest 100 milers in existence - in my head next year. Bastard.
Me need sleepy-time-now, kthnxbye.