Stone Mill 50 Miler
Oil
Creek. It all seems to start and
end with Oil Creek. This year, I
ran the 50k. As always, the trail
was rugged, I had a blast hanging out with friends. I got to pace two runners to their first 100-miler
finish. I could have done without
the bear encounter, but I digress.
Finishing
the 50k felt empty. I needed it to
collect all four buckles, but I crossed the line with more in the tank, and
sort of a “now what?” type of feeling.
My
personal tradition is to take a break after Oil Creek. No running. Nothing.
Nada. Normally, I
enjoy the first few days, and then I get the itch again.
This
year was bad. I didn’t feel like I
earned the break. There is a lull
in the racing calendar from Oil Creek until the Beast in January. There is nothing locally, if I wanted
to run, I’d have to travel. And,
here I was with a travel certificate just I was just itching to use.
It
finally dawned on me why I was so desperate for a race. This past summer, I was in a position
that not racing anymore was an option.
I finished up a race in Chicago, firmly believing that I had crossed my
last finish line. I was not okay
with it, but it seemed like what needed to happen to regain balance in my life. I was able to work through the
obstacles in front of me, but I was still unsure what my future-racing schedule
would look like. I felt unsettled.
Stone Mill 50-miler was a game changer. I
was pouring through races with Mark, he wanted me to run a marathon. The idea had merit, but I wanted more. I needed trail. I needed longer than 50k. I needed to be challenged. I found all I wanted.
Stone Mill 50 is not to be underestimated.
It’s full of quad-crushing rollers, mud and a gazillion roots covered by
leaves. Top it off with a low $45
entry fee, and I was sold. It’s
like the trail was flirting with me.
It
was probably about 20 miles in, that I realized something. I was happy! Mother Nature was doing her thing. I was dirty. I
was working my butt off. I saw
animals mauled by what I’m going to assume was a rabid chipmunk (PLEASE do not
offer another option). But, I was
singing (loudly). I was
smiling. I was happy, really,
really happy. Nothing replaces
that feeling of digging down, and realizing something is there. I felt blessed to be able to do what I
love and to love what I do.
I’m
a trail runner. I know this sport
is not for everyone. Lord knows I
had no idea it would be for me. I
get to enjoy the spectacular beauty of nature. I get to challenge myself to run faster and further than I
have gone before, or slow it way down and take it all in. I run on my own power but NOTHING beats
getting a text asking how I’m doing.
Every ounce of me is exuberant when I cross the finish line, not for what I had done, but for
knowing I want to do it again.
Often
in a race, there are challenges that make me want to stop. I might be cold, hungry, exhausted,
hurting or ill. Time and time
again, I must find a way to work through it. I repeat to myself during these trials, “this will
pass”. I must learn to integrate
this strategy in my non-running life.
Rather than disrupting the balance in my
life, running gives me a center. I
am a trail runner. I’m not done. Not by a long shot
Oh,
and that travel voucher. Yeah, I
took care of that..stay tuned.
Comments
Post a Comment