They call it the Run from Hell, because if you take a cross section from the side, turn it 90 degrees, duplicate it, flip the copy, and then give it an awesome-looking purple-and-black color scheme, it will remind you of the first time you used the lathe in 8th-grade wood shop:
You had spectacular plans for that turning project. It was going to be the most beautiful salad bowl the world had ever seen. The thing you later called a "candlestick" was hellish, indeed. Yes, when I say "you" I mean you. No, I do not mean "me". My Lilliputian baluster was dope.
But, I digress. Certain runners have been known to call me a masochist for enjoying this particular run. Of course, certain non-runners have been known to call me a masochist for enjoying any run, so... it's all relative. I like it. It's scenic. It's interesting. There's always deer and stuff.
Why will I miss (not be in attendance) it? I will be out of town, in a not-really-foreign-but-might-as-well-be-foreign city, where I'd rather not have to make an attempt to wake up early and run eighteen miles on my own. I made that same attempt last summer, and was only about 75% successful.
So this time, I have choices!
The not-likely-to-happen choice: Go run the candlestick on my own. It would require a level of planning and forethought that I'm simply not equipped for that early in the morning. Dropping off water bottles in strategic locations, remembering where I left the water and using it... most of all, not getting lost... I have trouble enough staying on course when there's people to follow and a map in my hand. The only thing I know for certain is that at some point I would make a left a Mesa, and that would be the correct turn (possibly at an incorrect intersection).
The think-about-it choice: Map a simple route from my house to some point about nine miles from here, with at least two public water fountains or convenience stores on it. Bring a water bottle and some cash in a ziploc baggie, and restock on fluids mid-run.
The boring choice: Do a 3-mile out-and-back 6 times and leave some water on the porch. Ummm.. no.
The most-likely-to-happen choice: Have no plan, run aimlessly around areas I am very familiar with until the total is 18 miles, bring a bottle, and take advantage of any water I can find along the way.