Confession

My schedule dictated a longer run today, somewhere in the 4 hour range. I had this grand plan, one I've never tried. I could get up uber-early and start running before the sun came up. Then Troy could take Annie to school at 9, and I could return from my run to grab the car and pick her up by 11:30. Call it one-car family creativeness.

I have a confession.

And I don't want to confess it, because this week alone I have been referred to as "Sarah Connor without the mental illness" and "GI Jane", so needless to say, I don't want to reveal anything that would make me seem less-than-totally-badass. It could ruin my image.

But, I have a confession.

And I think my fellow blog readers deserve the truth. So here it is.

I'm afraid of the dark.

How lame is that? The idea of getting out of the house, all by my lonesome, when it's pitch dark outside, and exposing myself to all sorts of scary lurking in the dark could be's makes me shiver. So this morning I sat there in my house, all dressed up and ready to go, and what did I wait for?

Light.

7:19 I could see the sun was headed up and I was out the door. Dave joined me at 9am and kept me company the rest of the way, which was totally awesome. I brought up my fear with him and we did a little analyzing. I think the reason might be because my vision has been really bad since a young age. I wear contacts now, but when I think about the pitch dark night, most of my memories are literally very blurry and ominous.

When I think about fastpacking...my fear is not the long miles, not being alone, it's the dark. What about the Moab 100 miler that I am training for? Well, I know it will hurt, and pain will be a big issue, but an equally big issue is the concept of running through the night all by myself. Do you think if I run really fast I could finish before the pitch dark night? Clearly I'm not quite as gnarly as some might think (including myself).

So, I need some new memories.

From my run today: I ran on the frozen Cherry Creek Res. I try to do this every year (clearly I'm not afraid of death by hypothermia or drowning).

This pic is gonna make me laugh for a long time. Apparently I'm not afraid of making a fool of myself.

Looks ominous...nope, I'm not scared.

More cold rushing water...tiny bridge. I'm not a fraidy-cat...neither is Dave.