A Test Of Mettle
Do it anyway…
A Test of Mettle
Late July, 2012.
Silver Rush 50-mile Ultramarathon.
Leadville, CO.
Spandex, GPS watches, HR monitors, hydration systems, polarized glasses, etc. I pass these runners and wonder why they are here, as well as why I’m here.
The previous 24 hours have been consumed with stress. My spouse is convinced I’m on a romantic rendezvous in the mountains of Colorado. Harassing accusatory texts stream in. Meanwhile, alone with my thoughts and natural nervousness, I await the following morning. My first 50-mile ultramarathon looms as the confusion of my life experience eats at me. What am I doing? How did I end up here, in this moment, with these thoughts?
At 7:00 PM I send out a final text, waving a white flag of sorts, and then turn off the phone. Soon, the exhaustion has me sound asleep in the back of my SUV, as rain falls steadily outside.
At 4:00 AM I rise. By 4:30 I’m on my way to the race start. Attempting to turn on my Garmin GPS watch I’m confronted with a blank screen. Dead battery. The race will now be run completely on feel. All plans are out the window. Here we go...
At 4:50 AM, moments from the beginning of this journey, I’m surrounded by 600+ of my fellow trail runners. Each of us with our own stories, stresses, and reasons for being here. Anticipation...
A few hours later. Running fairly relaxed and in the moment, I notice a runner approaching on my left. He’s lean, young, blonde, and shirtless. Simple and carefree. In his right-hand rests a Gatorade bottle with a homemade duct tape “strap” securing it to his hand. On his opposite wrists is a $10 Casio watch. I’ve got the same one at home (useless to me now). With ease, the vagabond strides away from me on this flat stretch of forest road.
How I longed to be having his experience. Does he have worries? Where is his mind? Alas! If he (and all of them) knew what I was going through! Clearly… my head was not in a good place. Time to employ patience and presence. These miles aren’t going to pass peacefully on their own.
Running with only a handheld bottle, I fueled solely with gels from aid station to aid station, drinking only water, I had myself a ride. When hungry (or lethargic) I ate a gel, washing it down with water. When I felt good I ran hard, using gravity when possible to pick up my pace and make up time lost in the miles of climbing. I found a flow as the miles added up. The process of fueling, hydrating, and covering mountainous terrain became meditative. The event had become therapeutic and I longed to remain in this environment, at this moment. Competing hard all day I passed a few runners and was passed by a few more, eventually crossing the line 10th overall in a time of 7:55. North of my expectations. A half an hour after crossing the finish line a storm rolled in, dropping the temp into the 40’s and pelting the slew of runners still on course with rain and wind. I’m grateful I was able to cruise the descents, ride the positivity, and drown out the chatter between my ears.
Alone with my thoughts under the massive canopy tent, I again pondered my situation. On one hand, I was thankful and relieved, on the other confused and unsatisfied. Am I a bad person? I’m 30 years old. In way over my head. Living in an unwinnable situation. Learning to dislike myself through the lens of a spouse, while simultaneously becoming a competitive ultra-endurance athlete. Fear and negativity alongside accomplishment and elation.
Reality. Upon conclusion came confrontation.
Those closest to you can either build you up or beat you down. It’s often surprising what we endure. Years later, after using the knife to free me from the tethers of a dysfunctional relationship, clarity hit me like a sleeper wave. Some things we should endure, others, we should leave and let be.
When chaos envelopes the moment, stand tall, lift your chest and chin, breathe deep, and love yourself with everything you can muster.