Reflections and What’s Next?

Typically, my blog posts have been race/trip reports with lots of pictures, and a smattering of posts are about tasting whisky. Today I’m mixing it up with a more personal narrative. It’s been just about a month (!) since my Javelina Jundred, and I’ve had some time to reflect on my experience. I wanted to write a little bit more about what my DNF at Mountain Lakes 100 and finish at Javelina Jundred meant to me. (If touchy-feely real talk makes you squirm in your chair a bit, skip on down to the What’s Next? portion for your regularly scheduled ultrarunning race-related content.) 🙂

Reflections

You know how sometimes you don’t always believe that you can do something until you’ve actually done it? You need the faith and support of friends that you’ll succeed to carry you through to your goal. I’ll admit that even though I had a wonderful coach, solid training, and the intellectual knowledge that I physically could run 100 miles, I was still insecure enough to believe that I couldn’t do it. My brain would ask very helpful questions such as, “Do you really think you belong here, with these badass ultrarunners? Who are you kidding?”

So, my first attempt at Mountain Lakes that ended in a DNF was really a self-fulfilling prophecy, despite the fact that conditions were exceedingly tough and out of my control. It made me feel as though I wasn’t strong enough, clearly I wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing, and I had wasted everyone’s time and money with my delusions of grandeur. The crummy conditions simply gave me the opportunity to make it feel like it wasn’t my fault that I “failed.”

I had put a lot of pressure on myself for Mountain Lakes, and I was determined not to do that for Javelina. I tried to adjust my mindset to count everything as a learning opportunity versus success/failure. That did not mean I wasn’t a bit worried about the race. I knew that despite it being a very runnable course, the heat was the main challenge, and being a Seattleite means I’m a total baby when it comes to heat. So I expected an absolute shit show that my pacer would have to drag me to the finish kicking and screaming. And it wasn’t. It was tough, yes, but also epically awesome. And my pacer, Tara, got to enjoy it (I hope) instead of being a glorified babysitter. (Okay, OKAY there were a few babysitter moments, but not as bad as I had anticipated.) Anyway… now, I believe I can run 100 miles, and I’ve got the buckle to prove it (to myself.)

So what does that mean to me? A number of things. Firstly, I cannot state enough the immense gratitude I feel that I have the health and means to pursue this crazy hobby. Not everyone is so fortunate. I also am exceedingly lucky in having an invaluable coach, supportive husband, and great friends who have all helped me in my journey. As much as running can be a solitary sport, you still really need support from others. It makes it easier logistically, of course, but it also makes it a far more enjoyable experience overall. A quick high five on the trail, words of encouragement when things are rough, sharing a laugh at the absurdity of it all… it all helps. No one needs to sit in a mental pain cave by themselves. I could NOT have completed my race without those amazing people, so I only hope I have the opportunity in the future to help them in the same way!

Superficially, finishing Javelina also means when window-shopping on ultrasignup, (admit it, you do it too!) I no longer automatically dismiss races because they’re so long. I now have faith in myself (and my coach’s training) that I could do those. I’m not saying that the ones at elevation (who needs to breathe anyway), or the ones with 25,000+ elevation gain (crunchy knees are fun, right?) don’t still make me nervous. Now, however, there’s at least a shred of possibility that wasn’t there before.

And even if I didn’t cross the finish line of any of those new challenges, it’s really a learning experience. You don’t learn anything if it all goes perfectly! (Not that it wouldn’t be nice now and then.) I learned a lot when things went sideways at Mountain Lakes, and I learned more yet at Javelina when my guts rebelled. Besides preparing me for the next time, I’ll quote my dad here, “it builds character.” (See, Dad, I did listen! 😉 )

For anyone who hasn’t been insecure, this may all seem a bit stupid and somewhat juvenile. Well, good for you for having a healthy self-esteem! For all of the rest of you, I assume some can relate to a deep-rooted fear of failure and feeling like an imposter or wannabe. In my “regular” life, this doesn’t really come into play that often because, frankly, the challenge isn’t as immense. But when you’re at the starting line of a 100 mile race, any self-doubt you might harbor tags along for the ride, ready to party at mile 70+ and kick you when you’re down.

I’m someone that is a bit obsessed with preparation and being in control. (To be fair, logistics and planning is my career and my brain is naturally wired that way, just ask my poor husband.) Of course, running ultras is about preparation, but attempting to be in control all of the factors is downright laughable. You need to be flexible to deal with whatever comes your way. (I can hear my coworkers laughing from here. 😉 ) Not my strong suit, I’ll admit, but what a way to learn that skill, eh? Crazy weather, aggressive flora, annoyed wildlife, disgruntled digestive system, etc, etc, etc. But all in the company of great trails, beautiful views, and a wonderful community of like-minded yahoos out there to enjoy the challenge.

I had hoped I would learn a lot from my 100 mile experience, and in short, I did. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I liked how a 100 miler stripped me raw emotionally (and sometimes physically – hello blisters and lost toenail.) There was joy out there, as well as a bit of despair, and sometimes a complete numbness/doggedness when all you can do is focus on moving forward. I also gained a new appreciation for this body of mine, and that it accomplished such a feat. I know every 100 miler is different, so I expect each race to teach me something new. Even if it is just how to survive and still succeed when everything goes wrong. I doubt I’ll ever have the magical experience like my first 100 at Javelina again, but that’s okay. I’m exceedingly thankful for it. It was a great way to further my passion for these physical and mental challenges that continue to intrigue and inspire me.

What’s Next?

The question I’ve been getting most often now from friends and family is, “what’s next?” You mean after all the rest, and the eating, and enjoying a dram or two? Everyone seems disillusioned that I don’t immediately say something insane like, “I’m going to do a 2,000 mile race in 4 days!” Sorry to disappoint you… I guess?

My immediate focus is to deal with some high hamstring tendinopathy that’s been dogging me for awhile. Shockingly, running 100 miles didn’t cure it! Weird. 😉

After that, however… I enjoyed Javelina so much that I immediately looked at the other races put on by Aravaipa Running. I signed up for the Black Canyon 100K in Arizona in mid-February, and it should be really fun. (It’ll be a great respite from the rainy Seattle winter, so hooray for that.) My friend, Ellen, will be joining me for her first 100K. I’m really looking forward to going back to the desert!

After that, I’d like to run the local Chuckanut 50K in March for the third time. It’s a classic race, and I’d like to improve my time, now that I’m familiar with the course in good and bad weather (see what I mean in the race reports from 2016 and 2017.) Fingers crossed for no hail this year!

I’ve got one ticket in the lottery for the Western States 100 in June, but my chances are basically less than 1% that I’ll get in (i.e. snowball’s chance in hell.) How crazy would that be?? Otherwise, though, I still haven’t decided on any races for June/July/August.

Late summer and early fall, though… I’ve got big plans with friends. I love adventure runs, and we’ve got some awesome trips in the works. We’d like to do the Wonderland Trail (~93 miles around Mt. Rainier) in three days. It’ll end up being sort of a stage adventure run with stunning views galore. I’ve run a few sections of the trail, and running all of it has been on my bucket list for years.

Additionally, we’d like to do the Zion Traverse (48 miles across Zion National Park) in one day. I absolutely LOVED the portions of the trail I ran this past April (check out our runcation day 1 and day 2), so this run has been on my mind ever since.

As for 100 milers… I absolutely want to do another one or two next year, but I just haven’t settled on one yet. TBD!

Whatever I end up doing, I look forward to being out on the trails with friends (i.e. my favorite like-minded yahoos), and sharing the experience with you. I can’t wait to see what these races and runs will teach me next! 🙂