It was cold in Alcoa, Tennessee that January day. Really cold for a Georgia girl; fourteen degrees to be exact. I was bundled up tightly in my heavy WeatherEdge jacket, old thermal gloves, and layers of sweats, but nothing could ease the bite of the windchill. I pulled my jacket up a little higher over my mouth, and I breathed in and out to feel some kind of warmth…Man, it’s freezing.
I glanced over at my husband, Dan, who was staring back at me….Thumbs up… a reminder that being cold was the least of my worries that day. I was standing outside of a local middle school, under a huge banner, surrounded by people of all shapes and sizes with one common goal— to finish an ultra. The Pistol Ultra. And the gun was about to signal the start of another 100 mile journey for me. Another life lesson I would never forget… Continue reading “The Pistol Vendetta”

