I set two goals for myself earlier this year: participate in two triathlons and complete a 50k. The triathlon goal was one I had for a little while and I was excited about it. The 50k goal was one that snowballed with the trickery and encouragement of friends, a goal of which I was apprehensive. As of yesterday, I have achieved both.
Last weekend, I completed my second triathlon. I was supposed to have checked this goal off my list a week earlier, but that race was cancelled due to weather and I was able to compete on Belle Isle (one of my favorite spots) for a discounted price. I was very happy with my swim leg for this race. I didn’t get anxious at all during the swim, even when the current pushed me and some women ahead of me under a buoy. Overall, I took 13 minutes off of my sprint race time.
The trail at Hell Creek Ranch for the Run Woodstock 50k was extremely muddy after a night full of storms. The storms left the air cool, though still a little humid. I felt so badly for 100k and 100 mile runners who ran through the storms all night. By the end of my first 16.6 loop (I had to complete two loops), my hips and feet started to hurt from the pulling of the mud. The last 4 miles of the loop were the worst of the mud madness. Twice I almost slid off of the trail- it was like high stakes ice skating. While it made what might normally be easily run-able parts of the trail completely un-run-able, if the temperature had been 80° with the humidity we had earlier in the week, I would have felt a lot worse and had the same overall pace if not slower. Once again, I’m sure the hundred-ers might rightfully disagree with my preference of the mud to the possible heat.
I don’t know my official time because, for the second time in a week, timing equipment seemed to go wonky around me, but I know I finished around 9 hours and 20 minutes. My knees hurt a lot after and I blame that on the mud as well, but today I feel pretty good. In fact, I really would have loved to go for a short run today and if it wasn’t for my toenails (might have kept them a little too long and my left big toe is actually in a good deal of pain), I might not have been able to stop myself from the temptation of an ill-advised two or three miles.
I have heard people gruffly ask why someone would race long distances. Why would someone tear their bodies down, push themselves so far past the brink of exhaustion, and dedicate their schedules and lives to preparing for such a thing? They ‘pffft’ that “because they can” is not a good enough answer. I have never felt like I could give a succinct answer; it’s a hard thing to put into words. The night before the 50k, I very much believed that I did not belong there and I had no clue why I was doing this. I don’t feel that I gave 100% during training- it was 85-90%, especially toward the end. How could I defend others’ decisions to push themselves like that when I couldn’t even answer the question for myself? Running those trails made me feel alive and happy. While running my first 26.2, there was a point when I was so far past feeling like I had nothing left and then I would tuck my head and burst forth into a run and it fortified my existence. While it wasn’t a particularly long distance, when I came out of the water during my first triathlon (within the first 100 meters, I was ready to give up and go home because I was freaking out so.much.) I was elated. I genuinely enjoy doing these events (especially trail running, as difficult as it can be). However, I found the succinct answer I had been searching for as I crossed the finish line of my first 50k. I participate in endurance events and challenge myself with new, unthinkable things not simply ‘because I can’, but to celebrate that I can. To celebrate that I am alive and that I can. There have been times, times which have even been discussed on this blog, during which I have not always wanted to be alive or did not relish life. Yesterday was difficult and painful, but it wasn’t anywhere near the lowest I have ever been, in fact, it was quite the opposite. Pushing myself to great distance amidst beautiful, changing nature was a high and long before I ever crossed the finish line, I was one step closer to a life well-lived. I am lucky to have the means to participate in these races; it’s a luxury that not many can afford for one reason or another. So, dissenters, I will continue to celebrate that I can do these things in all the ways that I can for all of the different reasons that I can.
Edit: The whole time I was writing this, I kept waiting for the right segue to thank the volunteers at Run Woodstock. There were some aspects that felt a little unorganized and I was a bit harried, but the aid station volunteers were amazing. AMAZING. Almost every single race volunteer I’ve ever had the pleasure of coming across is awesome, but to be a volunteer for something like an ultra and dealing with zombified runners who are aching and just trying to get trough their next step, the constant cheering and the smiles and trying to get the runners whatever they can, just amazing. One aid volunteer at the Richie’s Haven station gave a downtrodden 100-mile-runner the socks off her own feet because the poor runner didn’t have any more dry socks of her own. The runner was crying, saying she couldn’t take someone’s socks right off their feet and the volunteer insisted that she was not running so she did not need running socks on. Just…outstanding. These volunteers were out there overnight with the hundreders, in the same conditions (I’m sure the volunteers took shifts, but still). Thank you, volunteers. It means the world. We could not do this without you.
Emily the Strong 