Canandaigua Lake

date: 6/26/2022

total mileage: 40.8 miles

People often ask what I think about while out running by myself for hours on end, and it’s something I constantly struggle to answer. Perhaps because no matter how much you plan for and how much you want to play by your own rules, ultimately other variables will dictate how the day goes and how your priorities will shift. These variables could be physical, mental, or a combination of both and is why you must learn to acknowledge, accept, and adapt as they arise. Keeping one foot in the game while trying not to go completely down the rabbit hole becomes a masterful balancing act if done correctly. But lean too far in one direction and you end up on your back.

Canandaigua was a tale of two halves. Think Patriots/Falcons Super Bowl 51.

The west side of the lake was arguably the most comfortable 20 miles I’ve run in recent memory. Even though I knew what was in store when mapping out the course and seeing the elevation chart light up like a Christmas tree, mile climbs at 13% grade seemed relatively painless.

Then came the botched snap on 3rd and 1 from my own 35-yard line, sending things spiraling south quick.

The “plan” was to cover enough ground early enough before the sun got directly overhead and hang on for the remaining few, but once I realized the entire east side was one giant 17-mile stretch of rolling open highway, it was time to acknowledge mother nature will ALWAYS demand her respect, accept that the next 3+ hours are going to be fucking torture, and adapt to the conditions if I wanted to see the top of that lake.

Without my crew team of one somehow, and I mean somehow finding me along the way, keeping me fed with baby food, and pointing me in the right direction, I’d probably still be passed out on the beach at mile 33.

As always, thank you to everyone who has reached out with their outpouring of support for Project 11. Please continue to check in on one another and keep moving forward.