I walked out of September with sore knees and a real sense of self joy. It doesn't last long enough, but it lasts for awhile. I don't really remember how or why I decided to run 3, 100 mile races in a 7 week span. "The Utah Triple" Perhaps a thing, a very new thing, regardless of it's "thing" or "not a thing" status, it was a thing I did.
Was it that I was turning 40? Was it the turned up spirit and blues of fall running coming to an end when the snow came and stayed last year? Was it the addictive natured voice reminding me just how good it feels to overcome and cross the finish line. The fantastic pleasure of sitting down and being still, finally? The laughable pain of trying to sit on the toilet the next day or the burning itching feet through the first night?
I have a hard time putting it into perspective or understandable terms when I am describing it to others. But, this morning on a lovely dawn patrol run, I didn't have to explain it to my friend, she has the same thoughts and feelings of the distance; as we talked about now what? what next year?
The Ute 100
The Wasatch 100
The Bear 100
...This is the Utah triple (be it a thing or not). I was a little burned out after the Bear. The weather conditions for all 3 races varied. With a 40 hour cut off at the Ute, I had time to sleep for the first time ever in a race #backofthepackproblems. We saw 2 bears. I laid on the trail with my friend and stared at a billion stars and made a joke about 5k's and margaritas. I was sick and sleepy and fell in and out of panic and patience quicker then my turnover. At the Wasatch, it rained and no hornets to be had. I decided I was done over and over again; I just never said it out loud. I was impatient and irritated, and wondered for the first time if I even wanted to be there. I was overwhelmed with friendship that ultimately carried me into day 2, mile 90, and then to the finish. And at the Bear, I was happy and healthy, and smiley, and strong...until I wasn't. Until I was muddy, and cold, and puking, and pooping, and slowed to the pace of a sleeping tortoise until I didn't. Until I saw my friend, my friends, all of them there for us...rounding the corner, seeing the park, shivering in the wettest clothes and the wettest skin I could remember, finishing next to one of my besties.
And then it was done. And, I was burned out but satisfied. And then I was burned out and depressed. Curious if what I think of as an accomplishment is simply...not. Perhaps, I pondered, this is just another way to fuel my highs and ignore my lows for a time. Perhaps, running 100 miles is a way to escape and not necessarily to be present at all. Or, maybe it's both? I don't love every minute of it. There's many miles I DO NOT even like. But, I do believe it's something that has enriched my life and spirituality in humanity. And, I can't deny the benefits and impact the very act of running has had on me.
For now, I am running short and slow. I have been out of the acute recovery phase for many weeks now, but I am enjoying the fall weather and cool mornings, the familiar winter trails, browsing ultra sign up daily for a new exciting event, and reflecting on 2019. To next year...Cheers
