Ultrarunners are many things, but we're not smart.
We finish races w/ broken wrists, broken shoulders, broken ankles. (All of those things have happened to friends of mine.) We run ultras on absolutely no sleep, we eat cheeseburgers at mile 94 (ahem, Tony), we take vodka shots during 50 milers (ahem, Tony), we run past the point of no return. We have thwarted senses of pain tolerance. "Oh yeah, I'm having trouble walking, my hamstrings are torn up, my hips, god, insanely sore, but it's nothing like when I did Hardrock." Or whatever.
And sometimes we're smart.
Sometimes, we realize when to pull back.
Tomorrow, I want to run a 6 hour donut fun run fatass put on by my friend Jessi (fantastic runner). Unfortunately, my legs are really tired. After much thinking, chatting w/ Ray K, the fact that I haven't slept, that a walk in the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens tired my legs...I'm going to take it easy. Maybe sleep after Fluff's party. Run to the Donut Plant w/ Rachelle. Chill. Rest my legs.
I don't know when to say no. It's part of being an ultrarunner - loving and embracing the extremes. And I'm trying to say no right now.