As some of you know, I recently completed a relay marathon called the mOUnTaiN BACK (notice the capital letters spelling out 'Out 'n' Back'....kinda clever, kinda corny). This basically the story of that race.
When my friend Pig initially asked me about it, I was a bit hesitant. I had been running on a pretty frequent basis during the summer, but I certainly didn't think it was an extreme distance by any means and he used the word 'marathon' which I usually associate with 'Go Fuck Yourself'
As he described it, and I found that it would not be an actual marathon (Unless you chose go as a team of two) and the distances would not be that different from what I was already doing.
Except for the climb.
Previous to this I'd always run in a loop, so that my start point and end point were the same. So even if I had up hill parts on the journey i would just as much down hill to make up for it. This would be different. There would be in both of my 5.5 mile legs, a tremendous ascent. Over 1700 feet in total.
If that number doesn't really mean anything to you, it didn't for me either. I know that I go up and down elevations, but I had no idea how to exactly quantify it.
So in order to both prepare for the hills and still keep my loop for training purposes, I would just find as many steep hills as possible and go up them. Often failing on my first attempts and having to walk up the steepest points, but eventually I would gain enough strength to run my entire 6 mile loop with ''relative' ease. (Though I admit, it's not an easy activity to run that much.)
After a few months of training and dieting, race day was upon us. I thought I was pretty much prepared. With one exception.
Through all my prior running activities, I had my Ipod handy. The idea of running with no music seems torturous to me. I find that music can make it easy to facilitate motivation to keep running, often losing myself in the sound and words and paying no mind to the constant repetition of my feet and breathing patterns.
Today there would be no music devices, as they race managers deemed them a safety hazard due to constant traffic. A valid point I guess, but still a huge let down.
When I begin my leg of the run, my mind takes over. I decide to push early since the adrenaline won't let me do anything other than go at a brisker pace than I usually take. My mind is wandering, unfocused and pretty much uninterested in the race as a whole. It isn't until about 15 minutes into the run that I actually begin to enjoy myself and can keep the negative thoughts about being bored and tired away.
What thoughts replace them? Well, mostly those about not letting down my team, myself, and doing something that in the end I know I will feel better for doing.
As I move over the early stretch of flat land I'm conscious of the fact that eventually a steep clime will over the entire second half of the leg and need to keep some energy in the reserves for that reason, but eventually I begin encountering other runners and my competitive instincts kick.
I now am driven to be catch people and to not be caught. It's not something that I'm loud or boastful about, but now I'm running on confidence, I'm running like I want to be better than everyone else. Even though I am not by any stretch of the imagination a 'great' or 'elite' runner (I still couldn't do a Marathon) on this day I had my mind made up to be the very best I could be. I feel invincible.
I am trailing two guys that I plan to catch, I'm chasing, not too hard to go out of my way, but I'm sure I'm going to catch them. Then we turn the corner and I see the mountain path that we're about to take and immediately slow my pace.
The best way to describe what I'm seeing is a mountain side, with it's peak as yet beyond my sights. Like running up a ski slope in summer, except you started at a point where you have no idea when the end point is.
Now the two guys that are still running, and have not stopped, they are completely trekking the mountain without slowing their pace. I cannot. I have to go to a fast walking pace to catch my breath. This, in my own mind is a huge let down. I didn't want to slow, I wanted to run the whole thing, prove my metal and dominate like I thought I should. However my body refused to respond.
Now, knowing the other runners were out of reach, my focus returned to the fact that I had no desire to get caught. I picked up my pace again, hoping to reach the flat end of the first leg.
And then I can hear the crowd and the finish. I can tell they are just around the corner, and something inside me just breaks and I push as hard as I possibly can. I am no longer jogging, I am sprinting to the end, even though my lungs are pushed and my legs are burning. The sensation felt amazing, as though everyone understood exactly what I had gone through (In fact many had) and their cheers just made me want to finish that much more.
As I handed the baton to my teammate (who was rushed a little bit due to the fact that he had just finished...well, let's just say he need to drop some weight real quick). My teammates surrounded me and cheered as I began coughing uncontrollably. It was euphoric. Even though I spent the next 5 minutes catching my breath and attempting to stop coughing I couldn't have been happier.
When I began the second leg, the same scenario unfolded. I would push myself past competitors, leaving no doubt in myself that I couldn't be stopped, a feeling of invincibility would take hold and push me all the way to base of my last hill.
Unlike the last time I had no illusions of running the whole thing. My legs felt like jelly at this point, making the climb would be impossible without taking time walk.
However...
Knowing this was the last leg, knowing full well after this event there would be no other event I was counted on for, and also seeing someone behind me and making an effort to catch me, I knew I had to go harder. To push beyond my own limits to make sure I had nothing left and to leave this experience knowing I gave all that I could.
As the last half mile marker signaled my proximity to the finish I felt a flush of energy come over. I was almost there, I was going to finish, and I wanted to finish strong. Again sprinting as best I could to the end.
After my final baton exchange, I coughed for probably the better part of 15 minutes nearly throwing up at one point (I have exercise induced asthma, which affects me only after the event is complete.) Yet I could not feel better. The amount of drive exerted made me feel absolutely fantastic. The feeling of camaraderie with my other teammates, the fact that my family and friends were there to cheer me on honestly helped shape and made the high of the aftermath.
All in all, it was a tremendous experience, one I would like to have again.
And if YOU are interested....I'll be doing the Tough Mudder event on April 10th, and teammates would be awesome.
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