Running 31 miles was a blast, but I don’t know how I could have done it without the encouragement of my family and friends. I’m sure there are tons of people who could care less about this, but I wanted to share my experience. It was tough but rewarding, long but over with before I knew it.

I can sincerely say it has left me wanting more and toying with the insane idea of a 50 miler. But for now, since I got so much support from my friends, I thought I’d share some highlights of the 5 hour (and 6 minute) journey I took on Saturday at the Cowtown Ultramarathon:

Between miles 1 and 3: I drafted off a man & woman who could have easily been over 80 years old. Not kidding.

Mile 9: My wife called to tell me she wouldn’t be at mile marker 10 with my next set of energy chews. Good thing I carried an extra pack in my vest. After I got off the phone, I was extremely proud that I just talked on my iPhone during an ultramarathon.

Mile 14: Got a call from my wife that they had made it to mile 13. :) She knew my proposed times, so this was the first moment I realized I was ahead of schedule.

Mile 16: I felt good enough to get my phone out and tweet. I was listening to a Kanye West song and made a joke about him trying to cut me off.

Mile 18: Felt like crap. I had been going too fast (8:30-9:30 minute pace).

Mile 20: Ashley and Emery met me on the Texas Christian University campus with a change of clothes, since the vest and long-sleeved shirt were too much for the increasing heat. After a quick roadside clothing change and chance to pick up some more fuel, I was off. Still felt like crap. As I took off again I thought, “my legs are tired. Really tired.”

Mile 22: Someone handed me a cup of beer, which I initially thought was water. When in Rome?

It was just past mile 23 and the course was splitting into “marathon” and “ultra-marathon.” As I made the right turn to attempt the 5 mile out-and-back stretch that made this “ultra,” I grabbed two cups of water at an aid station, drank both quickly, and lingered in a less-than-running state. For the first time all race.

You idiot.

You’re walking before you hit mile 26? Why didn’t you just run the marathon?

I hobbled along over the next couple of miles, fearful that the IT Band pain I had been experiencing for weeks would cut my race short.

As I stumbled out onto the ultra portion of the course, I knew I had to buck up and run. It was going to be tough.

And it was.

I tried my best to keep running with a little walking sprinkled in. I kept a slow jog up until I hit the aid station, right before mile 25, and drank two cups of water. I took off running again, passed the 25 mile marker, and then my leg cramped up.

I remembered the feeling. The last and only time it had happened to me on a run was at mile 17 of a 20 mile run. I had to walk home that day, because the cramps wouldn’t go away.

As I started walking, I decided I would alternate 5 minutes walking 5 minutes running.

After about 30 seconds of running, I had to walk again. At this point, I thought I might not make it. With more than 5 miles to go, I was worried about my ability to do anything more than walk. Then I got help.

A medic on a bike rode up beside me with a bottle of water and a banana. He might have been an angel, or he might have been a guy named Bob. Or Mike. But he definitely helped.

But again it hit me, “you idiot. You’re running 31 miles, but you couldn’t even finish 26 without walking.” As tired as I felt, I was surprisingly not in the mood to give up. As I looked at my watch, I realized I could walk out the race and still finish in the top 1/2 of the finishers from the year before. That was all the hope I needed….

The bearers of torture who designed the course had placed the turn around, at 26 miles, at the top of a steep hill. Now, I was tired and hurting but still not stupid. I walked up and ran down. After I made the downhill, I felt ok. Not great, but ok.

I was able to jog a mile and walk a few minutes, then repeat. Before I knew it, I had already passed the aid station (not without picking up 3 cups of powerade) and hit the Mile 28 mile marker, where I started tweeting again.

Maybe it seems silly to be emotional at this point, but when I saw mile marker 28 it hit me “you’re going to finish this.”

At the thought of this, I gave a few fist pumps and, admittedly, teared up as I ran. I then saw several ultra-runners just now entering the out-and-back portion and I felt for them. I hoped that they wouldn’t feel the pain I felt but all of the satisfaction.

Just past mile 28 I rejoined the original marathon course and headed towards downtown Ft. Worth. As I made the last turn and ran the final few city blocks towards the finish line, I was encouraged by chants of “ultra! ultra!” and it felt good to be one of less than 200 finishers in an event for a race day that hosted 21,000 runners.

Not to sound tough (because hey, I just admitted I cried when I realized I was going to make it), but I wasn’t really exhausted. Tired, sure. But I honestly felt worse 365 days earlier when I ran my first 10K at the Cowtown.

For what it’s worth, PowerBar Gel Blasts are an amazing source of energy but they won’t keep your legs from cramping. Outside of my delusional experience I know this because of common sense, but apparently it never crossed my mind while running. My advice: take the bananas random people are passing out all along the course.

Now it’s time to keep running, because a 50K isn’t the climax, even if it’s the longest run I’ll ever do…