Now what?

So the day finally dawned when I can look at myself in the mirror and see an ultra runner. A sprinter by ultra standards, but an ultra runner nonetheless. And now what? Do I still find ultra distances challenging and interesting? Or has my thirst for running been quenched by this achievement? Was it just about checking a box for me?

As I'm sitting here nursing the fever that inevitably followed the somewhat risky running-with-a-sore-throat shenanigans last Saturday, I am still drunk with happiness. This was a long time coming. From my first foray into the ultra world at a training run in November 2010, to my missed chance at participating in Skövde 6H last August, to the Ultra Intervals last autumn, it was a long time coming. Not only did I run the ultra, but I ran much further than I had ever dreamed of. But now that I've achieved my goal, what happens next? Should I take up the seedy, underground activity of stamp collecting instead? Join the porcelain figurine appreciation society? Seek new thrills at a bird watching club?

This was a test of strength for me. I wanted to find out just how much I'm capable of, so that I know what to aim for next. I know that I was tauntingly close to 60 km. I know I could have run it if only I had walked a little less (I should have listened to H). Still, right now it's not my kilometre addiction that's driving me towards new heights. The biggest kick I get out of running is from being close to nature and seeing new places. And that's precisely what I want to do next. I want to have an adventure, be it in a race or just on an average Saturday running with my friends. Now that I know what I can do, I have a springboard of confidence from which to daringly jump onto greater things. My thirst for running is far from quenched. On the contrary. Skövde was like a salty snack. A hot day in the desert. It only made me want it more.