Why am I doing this? (Pt. 1)

4:45 am, the alarm is beeping.

Outside is cold and dark. Maybe is raining, or snowing, or maybe the weather is just fine, but still, is 4:45 in the morning.

I get up, I drink my coffee and I go out for the first run of the day. Depending on the day and depending on the phase of the training, I will run 10 or 15 km (1 km = 0.621371, do the math) or even more.

That same day, in the evening, I will wear my running shoes again, and I’ll go for the second run of the day.

That’s what I’m doing since I’ve decided to run ultra-marathons.

I usually run 7 or 8 times at week, with an average between 100 and 150 km at week. Often alone; sometimes I share the miles.

Sometime I share the miles with wild animals, like coyotes or wolves.

One question: why am I doing this?

The answer is: I don’t know, but I love it.

Maybe it’s the rush, it’s the addiction to endorphins, it’s the feeling of awesomeness that I can feel right after 50 km straight.

Maybe it’s the pleasure of the pain and the sore.

Maybe it’s the epic feeling that my body can do more than what I thought it was able to do.

Maybe it's the selfish sensation that I can do something that is not for everyone.

People complain: “Get a life!”…

Dear fat-asses, that’s a pretty intense life. Don’t bother me and go fat yourself (ha!).

This is for the complaining people: nice violent music, enjoy it.