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Week 46: Throwing Down and Stoking the Competitive Fire
Leadership
I’ve got some stuff cooking, but it’s not the time for story-telling quite yet.
More to come.
Couch to Ultramarathon…and Beyond
As I wrote about last week, this past Saturday it was time to throw down in a trail half marathon at John Bryan state park, about a half-hour away.
All week, my coach had left notes to save some for the weekend.
I took it seriously and came out ready to get dirty. It was a scorching hot morning as we lined up in the grass. After barely listening to some brief announcements, trail marker explanations and safety concerns; we were off.
I spent the first few miles chatting with folks and trying to get into rhythm. It was great to race with a lot of people and the rolling, technical trails made it super fun to jump, skip and try not to fall into the gorge.
Which almost happened and caused me to strain a hip, but oh well.
About 5 miles in, the group I was running with broke off at an aid station to refill water. As I’d stopped at the previous water area, I was okay and kept going. Rounding the corner, I thought “This will be the last time I see these folks today” and turned the acceleration way up.
A few minutes later, I found myself alone, flying up the trails with reckless abandon. I was jumping down rocky gaps and taking uphills way faster than I should have. I was high-fiving hikers and hooting and hollering in the woods like a loony toon.
We are free the moment we wish to be.
I hadn’t run a half-marathon distance race since I was probably 14 years old. I’ve run full marathons and even ultras by now, but never a half-marathon since.
I wasn’t nervous about the heat, the distance, or the technical nature of the course.
I was worried about my competitive fire.
As it turned out, I need not have worried.
After another few quick miles, I realized I had made my way close to the top 10 of the race.
Something clicked in me.
I WANTED that top 10 place. I wanted it BAD. I started running even harder.
My heart was hammering and I was gasping for breath coming up the hills full send. I took strange comfort in seeing others hurting because of the heat as my own pace intensified and got stronger.
With only a couple miles to go, I caught a couple more guys who were fading as I raced past them.
I told them good job but barely meant it as I took their being faster than me for most of the race very personally for some reason. I felt like a wounded animal fleeing through the woods from certain doom. In my mind I WAS a wounded animal.
Then, about mile 12 I tripped on some rocks and went down hard.
Luckily my face broke the fall, and with nothing hurt other than my pride, I got back up to finish the race.
While a bit chastened now, I caught up to one more person in front of me although they heard my footsteps coming and sped up. They ended up edging me out at the finish line by only a few seconds as I quietly seethed while a nice, patient lady collected my timing chip.
Then another lady walked over and said, “Congratulations you won your age group and finished top ten overall.”
Instantly fulfilled and joyful instead of mad, I let out a much too loud “HELL YEAH!” and went off to find the guy that beat me to the line.
I told him it was a great race and I was doing all I could to try and catch him but he was too fast. He said, “I heard you coming and tried to stay in front, had there been one more hill you would have caught me.”
Dang it.
Oh well, here are the numbers.
13.1 miles, 2:05:45, 10th place overall
Now only 87 days until I have to run 5 times as far.
Oh dear.
“The art of medicine consists of amusing the patient while nature cures the disease.” -Voltaire
Live triumphantly. See you next week.
