The Curse of Malibu Creek

My last post was about my addiction to all things running and how I pushed myself to the brink at the Malibu Creek 22k. Well, it seems like Malibu Creek is dominating my life or better yet, it is the race that has cursed me. Why? Well for one, I am back here writing about the same trail again. Tomorrow there will be hundreds lining up to run the Bulldog 50k and 25k at Malibu Creek and instead of being amongst the hundred struggling up the mean climb known as Bulldog, I will be sitting here mad that I can run because of a damn cold that I haven’t been able to shake for a week and most likely due to pushing myself way too hard in order to do well at tomorrow’s race. Guess my plan backfired or maybe the Malibu Creek curse has emerged. I have yet to run a great race at this park and I figured this would be the weekend that it would happen. Only just a few hours ago did I really decide I am backing out of the race even though most of the week I have been completely and utterly kicked in the ass with a fever, stuffed of head, and a chest that feels like a smoke factory. Last night I began to prepare all my gear and then I laid a plan to run the race in stages where I could rest and hike the 15 miles that has normally broke my back but when I got up today and I my calve felt like it cramped up for no reason, I knew it was time to waive the white flag. I thought about what my Grandmother would say if she were alive and it would be “you need to rest” and she would then make me promise her I would and there was nobody I respected more than my Grandmother. So tomorrow I rest but me and Malibu have some unfinished business.