Three years ago I started training for Stump Jump, a 50k trail race and I failed miserably. Turns out I was a terrible trail runner. I thought trail runners were the coolest people and trail running looked completely badass and I really wanted to be one of the cool kids. Turns out, I just ended up looking more like their special cousin they let tag along.
I fell all.the.time. I couldn't get brave enough to blaze downhill (or run...or jog...) I couldn't get my heart rate down on the uphill. I'm also a talker (BAH! I know you find this very surprising) and when you run on trails you run single file, making it difficult to hear so you don't talk as much, which was my own special challenge. Also, the cool scenery everyone else talked about sorta just looked like hella lotta trees to me. About six weeks into the program I did something I had never done before in a training cycle. I quit.
I gave up, realizing I was pretty much always going to have to leave this one to the cool kids. And then, early this summer, I decided I thought I wanted to give trails another go. It's been Tennessee hot and I wanted to run and trails meant less heat. Plus, all my friends seem to be converted to trails for the summer and all those road miles were getting kind of lonely. PLUS, I didn't want to be scared of trails anymore. Do the hard things, ya know?
So I headed out there again. My friend Lauren, who can always talk me into anything, talked me into it and I joined other friends who would have me along the way.
This time I just did my own thing. I didnt worry about my pace. I didn't worry about my awkward descents...or slow climbs...or constant tripping from not picking up my clunky feet. Runners always say "run your own race" but we often don't listen to our own advice but this time I just went out and did my thing. In my new shockingly ugly trail shoes.
And I still sucked. But I sucked my way and it sure was fun. I still fell but was managing to run upright more (with one minor accident).
There is still nothing speedy or graceful about the way I go downhill but it's now fun to try to make my way to the bottom. I still cuss my way through every major climb but they really deserve to be cussed so whatever. And most surprisingly I can run hours out there without saying anything and I kind of like it. I still can't say much about the scenery because I'm too terrified to look up from the ground but it smells pretty :).
So I had no intention of doing anything other than just being out there, even though my friends had all signed up for Stump Jump. To me, that race has always represented the hard thing--the hardest hard thing because I have heard all the stories from the people who have done it and those people are all badasses. They are stories of puking, falling, pooping in the woods, getting lost, yellow jacket stings , sitting alone on a path crying and of getting beaten up by the course ( a few stories where it sounds like all these things happened simultaneously).
But guess what I'm going to try to do tomorrow? Im going to attempt to run 31 (32, 33? ish) miles through a course that's likely to be my biggest running challenge.
There's a chance I won't make a cut off and a good chance I just won't finish. Better people than me have had those outcomes. But the thing is, it won't matter. Because I have had an absolute blast this training cycle. Every long training run is a story and the stories of these runs have been so cool--I've watched friends get so much stronger and faster.
We've braved horrible temps with molasses humidity and some of the runs have gone into the dark.
I've learned the story of being out there by myself and finding my brave. I definitely have laughed my guts out more than a few times. I would definitely do it all over again just for the long runs in the woods.
I would do it all over again for the fun I've had with all these people:
So today I'm drinking all the water, eating
Orrrr.....things like yellow jackets...and getting washed away by flash flood waters, or sliding off the side of a mountain, or falling and smashing my head into a rock, or having to use the bathroom in the woods, or having someone push me off the side of the mountain because I have thrown by body down and it's the only way they can clear the path for other runners to get through.
I'm not freaking out about any of that. Because the training? That was the party.
