When the Mountain Wins

“Success is not final.  Failure is not fatal.  It is the will to continue that counts.” ~Churchill

I’ve tried to come up with words for this race and I just don’t have them.  Maybe they will come later; maybe they won’t come at all.  Everything I try to say just sounds like one big excuse.  Everything I try to say sounds really negative and that isn’t the way I usually approach things.  However, I’m going to keep on writing here, negativity and all, because I feel like being raw and honest is the only thing that will get me off this ledge that I’ve been perched on the last couple of days.

I went in knowing a lot of things – knowing that I didn’t have time to sufficiently train, knowing that I wanted to use whatever I got out there as training for Ouray – but when the DNF actually came, none of those things actually mattered.  Our emotions rarely consult with our intellect.

This isn’t my first DNF, but it stings the most.

My favorite from the race, with my favorites at the race.  PC: Meg Reed

I’ve struggled in the past few days.  As ultra runners, we talk a lot about attempting things that are out of our comfort zone and embracing the prospect of failure, but our actions don’t always match our words.  Mine did.  But now that the “failure” happened, I’m stuck in a negative mental loop.

• Did I over-reach?
• Will I ever be strong enough?
• Am I foolishly chasing something that I can never achieve?

These questions have haunted me and are still haunting me.  I keep trying to redirect my brain to the positives:

• My climbing is stronger.
• My downhill is WAY BETTER than at Cactus Rose
• My footwork and agility have come a long way.
• I HAVE IMPROVED.
  

PC: Trail Racing Over Texas/AJ Stasulli

PC: Trail Racing Over Texas/AJ Stasulli

The rewards of a long climb.

I enjoyed most of my time out there, even during the suffering.  Climbing anything, but especially mountains, puts a sparkle in my eye and a spring in my step.  Running in the middle of the night is, hands down, my favorite thing in ultra running.  I think the thing that is most difficult for me right now is that I keep questioning my decision to attempt Ouray again.  Is it really within my reach?  Will I ever be strong enough to gut out a finish on that course?

I need to get my mind right again.  I’m not exactly sure how to do that.  But, for now, I’m going to allow myself to feel defeated.  I’m going to allow myself to feel upset.  I’ll lick my wounds and visualize rising strong like a phoenix from its fire.  Hopefully, when my pity party is over, I’ll be ready to unleash hell on the trails again.

In the mean time, I’ll be focusing on this.  Even though Lone Star was far from Barkley Marathons, this quote from Laz gets me in the feels:

“you all know about the comfort zone.
that’s where most ultras take place.
running ultras is all about staying in the comfort zone.
all our strategies revolve around staying in the comfort zone.
all our advice is about staying in the comfort zone.

“start slow”

“walk every uphill”

“dont take any chances”

for all the talk about exploring human potential, and seeking our limits, ultrarunners tend to play it safe.
they line up “challenges” they know they can finish.
and run them carefully
well within their “limits”.
we believe that success is never failing.

at the barkley success is about over-reaching our abilities,
and living to tell about it.
sometimes success is getting your ass out alive.”
~Lazarus Lake

 

 

Lone Star 100, Here I Come!

“Success isn’t how far you got, but the distance you traveled from where you started.” ~Steve Prefontaine

This time last year, I was 2 months out from Brazos Bend 100.  I was training for Boston Marathon.  Yet all I could think about was getting out to El Paso to run Lone Star 100 in the Franklin Mountains.  At the time, it seemed like a pipe dream, one that would never come to fruition. I didn’t think I could EVER pull it off because it is firmly in the middle of club volleyball season.  I didn’t feel that I would ever become strong enough to even consider running a race as difficult as Lone Star.  Heck, at the time, I thought Cactus Rose 100 would forever be out of my reach.

PC: Trail Racing Over Texas

Here I am, one year later, getting ready to hop on a plane at the end of the week and tackle this beast.  I’m not in the most optimal shape.  Training hasn’t been perfect.  Did I do everything I could to be prepared for this race?  Nope.  But did I do everything I could to be prepared for this race, while still retaining a shred of sanity? Yes.

I have a hard time juggling training and life when we aren’t in club volleyball season, so training for and running a big race during club is quite an undertaking.  Even though the season is still early, the demands on my time have been substantial.  Add to the mix the fact that I took on additional duties at work in January and it’s a small miracle that I even survived.

I am going into this race with a lot of doubt.  Training breeds confidence and I felt like I started taper the second week in January, because, volleyball tournaments.  However, with some reflection I have started redirecting my doubt to three main truths:

• This race is training for Ouray.  Period.  I knew when I registered that making cutoff would be difficult.  At the time, I acknowledged that every mile and every foot of vertical gain that I am able to get will be good training in the bank.  There is no other place in Texas that I can get this kind of training.  So, even if I don’t finish; even if I don’t make cutoff, I will still have been successful.
• I’ve come so far in just a year.  Really, in less than a year, because I didn’t get into any “real” trail training until after Boston last April.  I am hard on myself and focus a lot on my weaknesses and how far I have to go.  In recent days, reflecting on how far I’ve come has been rewarding and also confidence-boosting.
• I find joy on the trails, whether it is in training or racing.  Regardless of the outcome, I will be out there getting some of that coveted dirt and vert.  I’m looking most forward to seeing a couple of sunrises and a sunset out there in the mountains.

  

  PC: Trail Racing Over Texas

  

  PC: Trail Racing Over Texas

I can’t close without giving thanks to a few people.  Without a support system in place, I couldn’t consider any type of success in this sport.  My husband, Bobby, has been a great support in this training cycle.  Alli is always understanding of my need to get out on the trails on our off weekends.  And my good volleyball mom friend, Marcy, for being a surrogate mother to Alli this weekend while I’m off playing in the mountains.  Love you all!!

I’m ready.  Franklin Mountains, give me all you’ve got!!