Race Report: the things I should say

“so pleased with my race”

4:30 in the morning?

You know it’s supposed to rain tomorrow, right?

Aw, hell, we got a 100 coming up. I’ll be there.

Think we have time for 15 miles?

“it all just came together”

Please God, heal my legs.

I know I have such a rich life

blessed with family and friends and

moments, oh! So many moments worth

lifetimes. I’m undeserving to ask this

but please, please, God. Please

heal these injured legs

so they can run,

so I can be free again.

Please God.

“what a great day on the trails with friends”

It’s ok, you can wait in my car

you don’t need to talk to anyone and

it’s not time to line up yet.

Just put the headphones on and listen to music,

it’s ok. Just hide in my car

a little longer.

“race organization went smoothly”

Take this Tylenol.

Now.

Oh ok, in 4 miles at the aid station.

But you have to promise to eat then too.

No, it’s not time for a walking break.

You’re strong. Look at you,

moving like you only ran 20 miles!

You’re ahead of schedule.

Always,

always, ahead.

“so appreciative that I could have this experience”

This is a gift body!

A gift! Be grateful that we’re doing this—

act like it!

Oh, I see…

Not a gift from me to my body

but a gift from my body to me.

You’re so smart body!

Oh, and you’re blurry.

Ha! Look! I’m running,

and I didn’t even know it.

“a lot of talent and speed out running today”

Text my family, let them know

I’m an hour out.

Don’t make it sound like I want

to see them.

I don’t want them to feel guilty

for not coming.

I just want them to know

I can do this.

But I can’t speak!

There are no words

for the salt crusted into my skin,

damp matted hair against my forehead,

lips chapped into silence.

Exhaustion weighing on eyelids, so heavy,

the swelling of my legs on this cot:

unmoving.

Coy potential winning! She always does,

leaving me with dull ache confused into

gratitude and congratulations.

There are no words to whisper

to reverberate

~~months~~

~~miles~~

~~early alarms~~

~~injuries~~

~~pool running~~

longing,

yes, longing.

Relief.

And fear.

There are no words for a 100 miles.

Comments

a new year; a wasatch akitu

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another new year startled us today. somewhere between the late night meandering into a warm bed, after the clock already struck a replayed chime marking the change of calendar (for, we can DVR the change of year and play it in every time zone,) and after the morning coffee, sunrise, prayers, or routines—the time has changed, and so have we.
the Wasatch is a flurry, the new recreational pursuits settling into it as the heavy snow settles onto it. it has been a dense year of both snow and increased use of the snow.
although this mountain range sits above a major metropolitan area, it retains pockets of wild refuge still hidden from its’ own mountain refugees. these pockets of frozen time are still filled with change. no man steps into the same Wasatch twice, for it is not the same Wasatch, nor is it the…

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I'd retained the identity as a mother, daughter, sibling, friend, student of literature and wilderness. this was a shift - less time, less comments, less messages with the running community that I didn't know well, a deepening of friendships and relationships with those closest to me.
it felt odd, going into standhope. I didn't have goals, I wasn't sure where I was at with running, I wasn't in shape for racing. I had this idealism, that if I raced hard, I could inspire others, not to run, but to pursue life with passion. but, what about when I can't race hard? when life is racing too hard for me to train?
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