First, The weather was PERFECT for this FKT! My chosen companion was Anne Sophy who had bravely ran 100K earlier that week. Our adventure started at the corner of Fletcher St. at 11 am. We were fueled by eggs and breakfast sausage. Luckily we are both experienced in our adventures and know that our breakfast would not be enough for the entirety of our trip. We came prepared. We were fully equipped with supplies. Gummies and honey stingers ready to draw at any sign of exhaustion. Anne Sophy suggested we take a picture every Kilometer to mark our glorious trek. However, I tasked us with the ever so difficult different pose every Kilometer which deemed to be more difficult as our distance grew. We started simple with roman classics statuesque poses of the great David and Venus de milo (with arms), until we were scraping the bottom of the barrel of the classic 90s Vogue from Madonna. At around 25 km we ran out of poses. Our progress was slow and steady.
The skies darkened as if mirroring our journey. The peril began with the dreaded stoplights. As any experienced runner knows stopping your run is when the muscles start to scream. Keeping pace was relief as the muscles do the job they were trained to do. As every red light loomed ahead and as we slowed our pace to a stop the fibers of our muscles stiffened, begging for us to stop. As the light turned green our muscles groaned to fire again. Anne Sophy started to feel the previous 100 km she completed on the previous Monday with every step. Her pace did not stop but her gait started to waiver. We stopped at the corner of 142 St and Malcom X Boulevard at the 631 Express Deli to use the bathroom (would not recommend) and to buy water to fill up our hydration pack. We saw the finish line coming up ahead. I threw a pickle juice shot ceremoniously while Anne Sophy looked away disgusted by the thought of it. We increased our pace as the finish line came closer. We finished our journey where it all began. As we slowed we saw the opportunity to take one last glorious photo to mark our victory (thanks to the man that took the picture of us). We laughed as we celebrated our accomplishment and took the moment to realize it had been four years since our last adventure together. Later that week we found ourselves FaceTiming back in our respective homes 1266 km away. We chuckled showing our proud booted feet. Her boot was the diagnosis of a broken foot and mine from some pesky fascitis. We wore our braces like trophies grinning from ear to ear wiggling our feet in the air. It was good to run again with an old friend.