Getting My Kicks

Its been called “The Mother Road”, officially “The Will Rogers Highway”, “Main Street of America”, and finally “The Most Famous Road in the World”.

From 1926 to 1985, that iconic road existed from Chicago to Los Angeles. Named Route 66. It was an idea, a collection of roads, and to travel it was to travel for the journey as much as the destination.

So this weekend, I’ll take the vapor trail of the Route 66 past St Louis, into a rural area south called Steelville, MO. I’ll have the honor of wearing the number 66 in my attempt at 100 miles. 102, to be more specific.

How to prepare for a journey longer than any other you’ve taken? One mile at a time, one Aid Station at a time. Remembering first, its about the journey, and not the destination.

Frankly, there have been times and days recently when I believed I just wanted to say I’ve run a hundred miles, not that I actually wanted to do it. I wanted to get there, and wear the mantle.

But that’s just ego talking. You can’t run a hundred miles by being impatient; by trying to be there, instead of here.

I really want to run a hundred miles, not say I’ve run a hundred miles.

Route 66, it was about the journey. The diners, the roadside attractions, the miles, each one holding the promise of something new and exciting. Watching the miles go by from the back seat of a station wagon when I was 10 years old, I didn’t want to be anywhere but right there, at that moment.

Fields of corn and wheat zipped by, gas station soda pop from a clear bottle. Red and orange and yellow. A jack knife from an old Indians road side store. I still have it.

So one hundred miles. I don’t know if I can do it, I don’t know what will happen. But I’ll give it my best shot. Always do.

Closing:

A travelin’ man,

Knows ease and speed,

He carries with

All he needs

Burma Shave.