On a beautiful Sunday morning, I set off from Harrisburg to run south for 47 miles to the Barkhausen-Cache River Wetlands Center. It was a last minute FKT attempt, and I hadn’t tapered, so I was a bit nervous. However, no female had submitted a time for this route, so all I had to do was finish, regardless of pace. The nerves meshed with excitement as I took off down the trail. After a few miles, concrete transitioned to crushed limestone for the remainder of the route. I appreciated the soft trail under my feet. The miles ticked off quickly. I had support from my strength trainer roughly every five miles. The first few aid stops were like Nascar pit stops – fast and efficient. My energy levels were good, sustained by Tailwind, Honey Stinger chews, Honey Stinger waffles, and Pay Days. The forest was waking up, displaying many shades of green. The views from the many bridges were spectacular. It was a lovely day for a run. About mile 20, things started to get hard. My body felt good, my legs felt strong, but my mind started questioning -Why?-. Why was I doing this? By a marathon in, my legs were burning throughout their thickness. I had run too fast and the lactic acid buildup was intense. I had over 20 miles left, and I was already hurting this much? I didn’t want to continue. It was hotter than it had been previously, and my tank top was caked with layers of dried sweat upon layers of dried sweat, turning the soft fabric into a hard shell. I didn’t want to eat any food. I didn’t want to do this. At mile 29, my pace slowed to a walk, and my shoulders slumped forward in a defeated posture. I walked, staring at the ground, giving up on the FKT for today. I called my strength trainer and told him I’d be pulling out at the next aid stop, Shelby road. He found this unacceptable and proceeded to give me the pep talk of the year. He talked me into running again, saying just pick up your feet and put them back down, one step at a time. I did. I kept picking up my feet and moving forward. I couldn’t eat while running anymore, so I ate bites of oatmeal at aid stops chased with swigs of Ale-8. The Nascar pit stops had turned into long breaks. The ginger in the Ale-8 calmed my stomach. I was taking in fewer calories than planned, but Tailwind, oatmeal, and Ale-8 were getting me through. The miles ticked off, albeit slower than earlier. It seemed like it took forever to get from Heron Pond to Karnak. The day was so beautiful, and the gorgeous blooms of red buds and dog woods swayed in the breeze. I saw Bigfoot, two Bigfoots actually, so should it be Bigfeet? I made it to Karnak, and covered the last few miles alternating between a walk and jog. I was surprised I hadn’t seen any turtles, and thankful I hadn’t seen any snakes coming through the wetland areas. As the crushed limestone transitioned to the concrete walkway of the Wetlands Center, I knew for sure I was going to finish. I pushed with whatever fuel was left in the tank and finished the 47.2 miles in 07:22:16. I was thankful to have finished, and proud that I didn’t quit.