someone inside

The week after Berlin I didn't run at all; we were still on the road. We flew back in on Sunday night. Monday morning I got up and went to work. Tuesday morning I got up and put on my running shoes.

I had not made up my mind I wanted to run a 50-miler. I mean, it sounded cool enough, but I didn't feel like taking on all the hardship.

It occurred to me, during the first half a mile of that morning, that the body was already on its way to Nashville. Someone inside had decided we would go. I had, literally, four weeks to get ready.