What’s your limit? Have you heard this before? I don’t know what my limit is, but I am testing the boundaries to see what it might be.

Disappointed that we did not gain entry to the Comrades Marathon in South Africa, the world’s largest ultra marathon event, my friend Victor and I decided to create our very own personal challenge.

Patterned after the Goofy Challenge an event at Disney World that has individuals running a 5K, ½ marathon and marathon on 3 successive days, we decided to run 3 ultras in 3 weeks, with the first one on May 21, 202.6K, the next 100K on May 28 and the final leg a 722K run from Turin to Rome starting on June 2 – totaling about 1,050 kms, equivalent to 25 marathons, in 18 days.

Nove Colli, or the 9 hills, pitted us against the environment and topography as the temps were in the low 90 degree range on race day, and started at noon with a controlled start, whereby all runners stayed together the first 20K to negotiate busy traffic out of the city of Cesinatico.

The hills were relentless, with climbs lasting 8 to 9 kilometers and going up as high as 507 meters to an altitude of 787. A couple would not be that difficult, but 9 major climbs, totaling 3,220 meters, took their toll, as did the heat and then the cool mountain air.

At 172-kilometers, my partner was overcome by the sun and needed to sit in the shade of the tent used as an aid station/ristoro. He told me to press on and I did. With 30-K left, it seemed like a sprint from that point.

As the cyclists passed me by, in the accompanying event which had thousands of bicyclists on the same course, racing in packs of 25, crossed the centerline, the oncoming driver was forced to swerve and I had to take evasive action. I dove to the side of the road, in a driveway hitting my left hand on the curbing, jamming my elbow in the process.

When I got up, the bikes were gone, the car was gone and all that remained was the road ahead. I shook it off, wrapped my hand in tissue and grabbed my water bottle in that hand to stop the bleeding. I pressed on and the anger pumped through my blood and I picked off 20 runners in the next 20-K and finished in 28:29:30 in 28^th place overall and 1^st in my category.

Victor came in an hour later. We were both pleased it went as well as it had. Our roommate also finished just under 29 ½ hours, so we were 3 for 3 on a tough day, where many did not finish. 50 arrived within the 30 hours limit out of 113 started.

After the race we evaluated what we had done right and what we could have done better. I was pleased with the support I had gotten from my Wigwam compressor socks and the knowledge that the arm warmers could be used effectively to adjust my body’s heat. Our feet were in great shape and our combination of walking and running left our legs feeling fresh rather than beat up.

During the week in between we headed for the sea at Santa Marinella, about an hour north of Rome, swam and soaked in the water. We then went to Civitavecchia and soaked in the soothing, hot mineral Roman baths at Ficoncella. A visit to Victor’s regular massage therapist, Andrea topped our rest and recovery week.

The del Passatore served as the 100K World Championships years ago and I was going to go, but my wife was not comfortable with it and I did not go. This was my chance to finally run the course over the mountain pass between Florence (Firenze) and Faenza.

Starting on a busy shopping street, the famous Via dei Calzolai, in the heart of Florence, nearly 1600 runners passed the Duomo, the beautiful cathedral and headed for the mountain about 5-kilometers away. The climb started after just 2-kilometers and did not end until 48, with a total elevation gain of about 1,200 meters at 913 meters above sea level, when the downhill started.

Victor and I joined up with a runner from Napoli (Naples) by the name of Angelo. It was his first ultra and he confided he did not know what he was doing and just wanted to finish. He mentioned he had been at the Nove Colli as a rider the previous week.

Again, we practiced what we had learned the week before and steadily made it to the top. Once there we searched for our drop bags and discovered they did not arrive. So, we had no warm clothes or lights for the journey down the mountain pass. Victor was adamant that we were cold and needed warm clothing and they came up with a t-shirt for me and what appeared to be a tablecloth with a hole cut into it, nothing like the nice CW-X clothing I was expecting.

We took what they gave us and eventually Angelo’s support vehicle pulled alongside and he gave us some long sleeve t-shirts and gloves. We were now outfitted to run comfortably, but only Angelo had a light.

The final 10K was well lit and we told Angelo to go ahead as we were going to walk it in to start our recovery for the next race just 5 days away. It was a wise decision, letting the heart rate come down and giving us the ability to get right to sleep after a warm shower. We finished together in 13:57:57.

The next few days we just rested and had a massage, running around was not an option, although the sea and the baths were inviting.

The race from Turin to Rome was a celebration of the unification of the 12 provinces of Italy under a common flag, 150 years ago. We started at Turin’s Piazza Castello, the ancient capital and would run to Piazza del Popolo in Rome, the new capital in less than 7 days 10 hours.

Using what we had garnered in the 2 previous races paid dividends as many of the runners went out too fast and faded just as fast. The 17 starters were cut in half in the first 2 days of 90-degree temperatures. We moved up from the last runners to the front by day 3, running in 2^nd and 3^rd on day 3.

Victor developed shin splints and was slowing us both down. He felt it was best that I run ahead and he would deal with his problem on his own. I charged to the front, only Antonio Tallarita, a friend of mine from Reggio Emilia, Italy, who works for Lombardini, a company purchased by the company I worked for 36-years, Kohler of Kohler, WI. At that point he was out of reach and that is where I wanted to be too, out of reach of those in pursuit.

On day 5 I took and extra hour of sleep, getting 3 hours and then pushed straight to the finish in a time of 6 days 18 hours and 12 minutes. Antonio had finished in 6 days and 3 hours, fully supported by an accompanying camper with driver, doctor and massage therapist. I went solo and was not given much support, so was at a clear disadvantage. Victor arrived about 12 hours later, proud, like me, to have finished, with minimum assistance, and taking in stride whatever difficulties we had to face. His was the first adventure beyond the 200k, which came only weeks earlier.