Last month, I ran my second 50K up in Big Bear as part of the UTMB Series, and it tested me in ways I didn’t see coming. About an hour in, my phone died, so it was just me, my breathing, and my thoughts. Not exactly how I drew things up.
Not long after, I followed a group of runners off course and added an extra half-mile. By mile 6, every step sent pain through the side of my knee, and mentally I just wasn’t in it.
For the next ten miles, I kept telling myself I’d drop at the next aid station. I even slowed down on purpose, hoping I’d miss the cutoff. After months of training and planning, was I seriously going to quit?
Somewhere around mile 16, things shifted. Maybe it was the PB&Js and Coca-Cola, maybe it was finally deciding I wasn’t done yet, but a second wind hit and I kept going.
The next 15 miles were tough as hell, and my finishing time wasn’t anything special, but seeing my family at the end made every low moment worth it. I fought through every thought telling me to stop, and remembered exactly why I did this.
I run to push myself, to show my kids what choosing hard things looks like, and to learn something new about who I am. This race gave me all of that.
