"I fear that someday I might use the fact that I spent my early twenties in law school and now work full-time in an office in the city as an excuse for not taking my running to the next level and that I hide my desire to become a top runner behind Midwest emo lyrics on Instagram and nerdy Strava titles, but maybe it all adds up to who I am and it’s okay to be scared of losing what you have to get what you want." I don't know if you've read that before or not. I guess it doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm taking this into my own hands. (Like it wasn't there to begin with.) I think this blog begins with my season not starting the way I hoped it would. It wasn't for lack of trying; I think I just tried the wrong way, you know? I ran a lot through the coldest winter of my life, pushing my fitness - and probably my health - trying to keep up with my competition who were anywhere but where I was. Caught up in a race before the race, I neglected areas of improvement I didn't quite grasp the severity of; the main one being nutrition. I can now quite confidently say that this time I'm doing something about it—just ask VIC, my nutrition coach. Man, I wish I called him years ago. The thing about being a slow learner though is that you're probably also slow to learn you're a slow learner. Add a tablespoon of stubbornness and a dash of ego, and you won't get far in this sport—ironic, since getting far is the point of it. Anyways, about the start of the season...
I remember the first morning light piercing the dark gray coverage. I remember seeing snow-covered desert hills framing the usually arid landscape. I remember green cacti stretching out their prickly arms to put on a white coat as well. I couldn't believe the beauty of it.
I remember KEV saying, "The start of the race is postponed because of the conditions!" as he, SYNNE and I were driving up the I-17. I remember isolating overlayers, extended warm-ups, and false starts. I remember scrambling to find someone who could lend me a headlamp just in case the race delay meant finishing in the dark. I remember meeting SARAH for the first time and seeing MATT again. I remember being present and grateful. Nervous, but relaxed..
I still get sad about how the day unfolded from there. My stomach swells with sentimental "Sehnsucht" just writing this, like I'm physically missing something I never had. I really felt I owed it to KEV and SYNNE to have a day I just didn't position myself to have... I feel like I let them down by taking lightly on the basics that were going to get me to the finish line and taking everything else seriously. What I did have, though, was 50k of some of the best running there is. The winding trail carried me over cow's grazing fields, through canyons, and up and over dusty climbs among some of the best and nicest trail runners you could ever hope to get to know. I rolled into BUMBLE BEE RANCH and saw my best friends who made sure I was alright. I tried to take in the unbelievable experience curated by BRICE and the rest of the SATISFY TEAM. I left the aid station all consumed by the realization that my reality really is woven by the materials dreams are made of, provided to me by the grace of my friends and family.
Things get blurry after that. I remember feeling confident, and then suddenly not. I remember trying to lie to myself, that the creeping feeling of my body breaking down was a low patch. It would turn around if I just got to the halfway mark where I would see KEV and SYNNE again. I remember putting on a fake stride into the aid station at DEEP CANYON, hoping that looking good would make me feel better.
I should've told KEV and SYNNE I wasn't feeling well anymore. I should've known that even being an hour later to the next aid station would, after a while, make for a better story at least. Instead, I got in and out of there as quickly as I could, fearing stopping more than anything, and decided to run myself into the ground if I had to instead, which is exactly what happened. After stumbling into BLACK CANYON CITY, I remember shivering for an hour under several blankets given to me by the amazing volunteers at the aid station until SYNNE came and carried me out of there. I wanted to cry when I officially dropped from the race, but I had nothing left to give, and there came no tears. So.. I didn't finish the BLACK CANYON 100k this year. I have a bad habit of repeating sentiments hoping they force my intended recipients to realize the depths of my sincerity, so I'll stop apologizing for it. Instead, I'll deepen my commitment to running and the relationships this sport has facilitated. I'll allow myself to fail. I'll face the facts that hold me back out there. I'll love this sport and everyone I meet and have met with all my heart. If I do owe KEV, SYNNE, my SATISFY family, and all of you anything, it's that. Nothing more. Nothing less.
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