Monday, September 12, 2016

This Too Shall Pass...Pine Creek 100

This is dedicated to a very dear friend, who unfortunately, has a few cells that went rogue.  She is the strongest woman I know.





It’s not about acting tough.  The trail doesn’t care how many likes you get or the image you try to present.  Your toughness must come from the confidence you build in your own inner strength.


It’s not about following trends.  It is about gathering knowledge and making your own choices based on what you know about yourself.


It’s not about prestige.  There is nothing glamorous about kneeling by yourself, alone on a dark trail, holding your own hair, feeling like you just can’t push any further.

It's not about inspiring. People only throw that word around when you are doing something they either don't want to, or don't think they can, do.


It’s not about how you physically look.    I truly believe outer beauty only radiates from what is inside.     





It is about knowing that life is messy.   You are going to get dirty, uncomfortable, beat up, challenged, and changed.  And, you will grow from it..

It's about feeling what you feel, and letting that be.


It is about doubting your doubts.  


It’s about taking another step forward, when all you want to do is stop.


It is about knowing you have people around you that love you, but also knowing, that the fight is yours.


It hit me at mile 81.  I was sick.  I was tired.   Two runners next to me dropped out.  I could hear the volunteers concurrently talking about my imminent drop and the storm that was rolling in.  They offered me a chair.   And, a blanket.   They might as well have stamped DNF on my forehead.


My friend came to mind.  I questioned how I would feel tomorrow, if I did not push on.  Time was not up. I could and would fight this fight.


I jumped up.  Okay, it took me two times to stay up, but I got up.  


I crossed the finish line.  Not many others were able to do that during this race.   I did it, because I have this friend, who is a living example of what it is all about.


p.s.  To my friend:  I actually pity those cells.  They picked the wrong woman to mess with.