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

that WEIGHTY issue

It's been said to us climbers that what we do is dangerous, and irresponsible. How could we risk our lives like this? And distance trail running, if it compromises our health why do it? How dare we take that time away from our families? And yet, to even make mention about a different lifestyle, one of weight, obesity, and all of the very dangerous and risky components it involves is socially disgraceful, insensitive, and cruel. I bring this up only to show how much weight, in general, is not "ok" to talk about. It's a sensitive subject, even, no, especially, for those of us already at a healthy weight who use our bodies to their fullest daily...

Now, this blog is about running, ain't it? Yep. So while there's a lot of "weight" we could cover in this "weighty" area, we'll just go over one. Running.
Running and weight are intertwined. I'd like to say that this post is primarily for the ladies, because we typically store more weight t…

my children in wilderness; my partners in adventure

kids. it's one subject that everyone seems to avoid in the back-country. I daresay it's even more controversial than bolts/chopping bolts, the purpose of 200 mile slogs, or the benefits/costs of lake powell.

why is it so unpopular? most of us have kids, and we all were kids once. still, most outdoor peeps love a crag dog and will "oooh" and "aah" over an obnoxious pup getting tangled in their gear, but will groan when they see a few kids at a climbing crag. even in utah, other peoples children are generally viewed as distasteful as the little bags of dog poop the poop fairy forgot to come back and pick up off of the trail.

fortunately, kids are nearly as common.

"kid krushers"
"mini me's"
"the backcountry parent"
"badass babes"
"#nochildleftinside"
"free range parenting"
"little training partners"

the titles we use are amusing and endless...

I have two kids. I'm a single mom. I l…

a new year; a wasatch akitu

“Think now history has many cunning passages, contrived corridors, and issues, deceives with whispering ambitions, guides us by vanities. …The tiger springs in the new year. Us he devours.”
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…

The Mountainist

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