End of 2014

What. A. Season.

From screaming down a mountain being chased by a mountain goat, never seeing so many hills in my life in a "death race", thinking birds were singing "cheese curds" in a 100 miler race, being insanely lost in race that had trails that I grew up on, trying to do 8 minute miles for 50 miles straight in 90 degree weather, lying in a middle of a field consumed by pain after my second 100 miler, running more than 50 miles in a 50k race that the "Evil Dead" was filmed in, and running through 50mph winds in a 24 hour race that I had no business being at.  I wouldn't trade 2014 for anything.

I know I don't reveal much on who I really am, and what got me here. I guess I'm still trying to figure that out.   I never ran an ultra before last year,I did, however, have an obsession with exploring on trails, and using running as a type of therapy. The first time I ran a 100K, was on my own in Virginia. I had no idea what a "100K" was at the time, but I couldn't stop running. My ex had just left for deployment, and my enlistment was expiring. I knew my life was changing in ways that I wasn't ready for, so I ran all day and night and fixed all my problems. Typical Forrest Gump moment, filled with tears and anger, but ended with confidence and understanding.

Fast forward to 2011.. I had become obsessed with Tough Mudders and crossfit, and still had no understanding of Ultras.  I met so many close friends during this time and it was fun to actually train for something specific. However, I did not have the confidence to compete in anything. One of my friends had told me about Bridger Ridge in Montana, and kept advising me that I need to leave OCRs and realize that there are other things that suit the athlete that I really am. When I crossed the finish line, I knew exactly what he was talking about. I didn't do another OCR and signed up for Georgia Death Race.

I had no idea how to train for ultras, so I figured that I probably just needed to run more. My trainer was about to have a heart attack, as the ultras I was choosing still required an enormous amount of strength and endurance. However, keeping my endurance was key, so out workouts went to suffer fests which were all lower body based. I trained using different nutrition techniques, trained for time, trained for miles, trained on different terrains, hill repeats daily, rain, snow, sleet, 90 degree weather.. I was out there. I had absolutely no excuses ever.  Somehow, I got "good".

Every race taught me something about myself:

Bridger: This sport is exactly what I need to be doing

GDR: Remain confident and have faith in your skills no matter what obstacle lies ahead of you.

Kettle: Taught me exactly the mistakes and the right things I was doing with my running. It also opened a whole new world of running friends.

DWD: You can keep running with every type of stomach issue and podium.

Voyageur: Don't be cocky with heat, mother nature will knock you down quick.

Sawtooth: One foot in front of the other and absolute focus will get you the finish line.

Barkley: Keeping faith and your head on straight when everything is going wrong, will get you to the finish line.

WTM: Closest race to my breaking point, sometimes you need to dig deeper than you thought you could to finish. Sometimes you need to rely on others to get you to the finish line.

I really wanted to do a WTM recap, but I thought it would be more appropriate to include it in my "End of Year" recap instead. I came to Vegas and welcomed by my family right away. I instantly felt more relaxed than I did at home panicking about this. All the feelings of why I love this community so much came flooding back, and I was so happy that I decided to sign up this year. If my closest friends weren't there, this race would not have been the same at all.

Running the first lap with no obstacles was my favorite lap, which shows that I am not an OCR racer. I loved running up and flying down the hills. The second lap was the worst lap. It was a really trial and error of figuring out how to do the obstacles, and basically taking every penalty. The third lap I ran through perfectly, however, I ended it with breaking my tailbone on the 40ft cliff jump. I could still run, so game was still on. I'm going to be honest though.. that really hurt. I was playing it off as much as I could, but it's all I felt for the rest of the race.

As I switched into my wetsuit for "Night Ops", I made an epic mistake. I didn't put my timing chip back on. I realized this about 1.5 miles in my lap, and had to turn around to flag down an official. He assured me that I was ok, and that I had to go to the timing booth and they knew to add in my lap. As I got to the timing booth, no one knew what I was talking about, until I had to wait for the RD to come to let the timing booth know that I did call it in. 45 minutes later.. I was able to run again. I was feeling a little frustrated going back out there, and then the sandstorm came. So I was pissed off, frustrated, tired, hurting, and now blowing around in 50mph winds. I was so beyond emotions at that point, that I just started laughing and joking around with other runners. I would ask runner's how they were feeling, and they would give me positive answers. I would reply with "Awesome, but I hate my life right now, but I'm good". My weird sense of humor kind of perked up my spirits a bit.

I finished a couple laps at night, and right before sunrise, I became violently cold. I couldn't remember my name and I couldn't get my body to stop shaking uncontrollably. I went into the Med Tent, which only had a half hour limit. I wouldn't let the doctors come near me, as I didn't want to risk a DQ. I had heard that over 800 people had quit at that point, and I didn't know how strict the medical tent was being. I downed about 10 cups of hot water, and started eating as much as I could to get my body working. My crew and my close WTM friends came to the tent to help out as much as they could. Justin, PJ, and Crump all came to try to motivate me as much as they could to finish this thing. The whole time I told them that I didn't know if I wanted to go back out there, and I noticed that no one was really arguing with me. Justin would just nod and say "Ok, but you have to go back out there soon". I kept starting at the clock, and when it hit 25 minutes, I got up and went back out.  I think they knew that I really wasn't going to quit, but just letting my mind talk out loud. Quitting.. just will never happen.

As I was finishing the last couple of laps before time ran out, my crew and Mudder family stayed with me the whole time. Cheering me on, making sure I was going to pass out from hypothermia, and just being the best cheerleaders I could ask for. Keith had finished his 50 miles and stayed with me for parts of the course. His humor and mine are very similar, and seeing him lifted my spirits tremendously. As I finished the last loop, PJ had advised me to not go out again, even though I had 4 minutes to spare. It wasn't worth the possible DQ or injury, and as much as I obsessed about that after the race, I knew it was the right decision. I ended the race at 65 miles in 23:56.

This race was beyond the most mentally draining thing I've ever done.  However, it was a challenge I needed, because it made me go beyond my limits. It also made me vulnerable to other people's help. I also was so proud of so many people that day. Three people in particular: Keith, Joe, and Gina. Both stayed out there until their goals were met. It was awesome seeing both of them on the course, working their asses off to do what they said they were going to do. Their performances truly stuck in my head to keep going, as I had a goal to meet too. I saw them both dig deep and do some epic stuff that they have never done before. Joe, who literally can not swim and has an epic fear of water, still managed to stay out the whole time and win his age group. I was more proud of them than my own performance that day.

I left that race very beat up, very disappointed yet very proud, and beyond overwhelmed when I turned on my phone. Seeing the support and reading the messages from people tracking the race, made my crew start laughing when I said "Man, am I glad I didn't quit". I never dreamed that by me following my dreams, would inspire people to want to reach out of their boundaries as well. It's really cool to see the "ripple effect".

The best moments of WTM:

Constantly running into Leeroy Jenkins and having the most random conversations, with him mentioning "Rogue Miami" every other word.

Being with Crump, Justin, PJ, and Keith in the Pit Area. So many random laughs and just pure joy of being able to be around each other. I had a blast with every single one of them.

My two great friends who came with me. I'm pretty sure Andy and Melissa had the ultimate challenge: keeping up with me for 25 hours and dealing with so many elements of the race. I went through a sandstorm, but they had to sit in it for the whole night as well. It meant everything to me that they wanted to be a part of this, and I will never be able to thank them enough. They also ran a half marathon the day after on 0 hours of sleep. Pure Awe.

Seeing Maria and Sean at the end of every lap with hugs and encouragement. It was honestly what I looked forward to the most at every lap.

Always running into Mark Holloway on the course and somehow always laughing together in our misery. He really lifted my spirits at crucial moments, great running partner.

Apparently I fell in love on Mt. Everest.. :)

Seeing Ken, Matty, Jonathan, my WI mudders, Jared, Amelia, Allison, Jeff, Nick, Amanda, Carrie, Thailyr, Jen, Nate, Kevin, Laurence, Wes, Mathew, Justin, Josh,  MJ, Devon, Andrew, Brian, Lucas, etc etc. The list just doesn't stop. All these people are people I shared laughs and have talked to a lot during the year. I truly couldn't of shared this course with greater people.

So, that was my "Rookie Year". The trails saved my life this year as I lost someone extremely important to me. I say that I was out on the trails to "train", but to be honest, I was out there more to escape. I went through some very dark days this year, with an inability to cope. When I felt myself suffocating, I would put on my running shoes and just go. I shed many tears, smiles, laughs, and anger on those trails, but I always left them feeling like I was able to go back into my life. These races are a fun way to see how your training and mental grit are with extreme physical challenges, but the races are more of a reward for me. I am truly happy on the race course, with other runners who all seem to share similar personalities. I'm truly myself and at home on these trails, and I'm so blessed to have found my second family on them as well.

Another thing that I am most proud of, is my refusal to quit. I may not get podium and I may not even come close to the goals I had in my head. I've been very blessed with an injury free year, and not having any legit excuses to throw in the towel. Yes, I've been extremely frustrated in a race, and quitting does go through my head at every race. I've learned to truly know how to embrace "the suck" and how to cope with things when they don't go as planned.  This has really leaked into my personal life as well. I've developed this new sense of confidence and mentality to pick my battles wisely. Will a DNF be in my future? Statistics say so. But not if I can help it.

I'm excited to start running with bigger goals next year. I'm finding myself in a much better place, and I find myself being on the trails because I just purely love it. My family has been the most supportive people in my life. Having my brothers crew, my mom waiting at the finish lines, and my phone being blown up by 100s of texts from my grandmother and aunt at every race.. its just so incredible. My mom also started running and swimming competitively, my aunt went back to her Ironmans, and my brother bought his first pair of trail shoes, all because they said they saw me cross finish lines that they thought were impossible to cross. I'm anxious and ready for the new year, and plan on having another great racing season :)