The first TTR run of the new season is underway and a group of us are scampering up Old Baldy in search of the summit at Mount Wrightson.
I crawled out of bed this morning on exhausted legs and a sleep deprived mind. My feet hit the carpet and I whined. "Um yeah. I guess" I mumbled half lucidly to myself as I stumbled into the shower. Training for a hundred mile race is a lot of work. Yesterday I ran 26 mind-numbing miles along the Rillito River Path. By myself. A marathon. Now, a day later, I get up at 4:30 in the morning to drive out to Madera Canyon for TTR's Wrightson Ascent. Yawn.
My mind was as mushy as the bowl of Cream of Wheat I was drinking. I find that drinking my pre-run breakfast is much easier than chewing it. Chewing is a lot of work. "None of my TTR times are going to be fast" I explained to Kristi. "All of my TTR runs are going to be on the second day of my back to backs. I'm going to be slow as dirt.."
As soon as we began the run, I could feel yesterday's miles weighing me down. I let a good chunk of people go ahead of me. "Go on, Sion" Chase said to me as we trotted off to start the run. "I'm not looking to be fast. I ran 26 miles yesterday" I replied. "26 miles. Well then, you should be good to go!" Chase encouraged me. "Yeah, of course" I said with a hesitant laugh.
I never felt so tired or heavy at the start of a TTR run. I'm usually oozing adrenaline, eager to jump out in front. I watched Nate and Catlow quickly disappear as I began the initial "endless" climb.
"Perpetual forward motion" I told myself as I immediately felt like I was going to bonk. I was able to focus on keeping this simple. The good ole fashioned "one foot in front of the other" approach. All of a sudden I felt relaxed yet energized. I passed a few people and settled in. I knew I wasn't going to see Catlow or Nate again, but I didn't want to see anyone catch me either!
The wind was whipping through the canyon and rain continued to increase the higher I went. "Perpetual forward motion" was my new mantra and it was working beautifully. I came up behind a older gentleman hiking his way up the trail. "Excuse me sir" I politely said as I made my way around him. "Twenty six point two.. What's that, your age?" He said while laughing, referring to the tattoo on my left calf.
A few years ago I slept in an abandoned house on a makeshift bed created out of old clothes I had found there. I spent a few nights in the sketchy neighborhood, a soul lost in a crumbling world. Running would ultimately change my world and the idea of running a marathon was life changing. Literally. The tattoo represents something so sacred to me, something only I can understand. I get heckled frequently. And because of the recent explosion of "26.2" paraphernalia, rightly so. But it will never change how I feel about it. Ever.
"Wow, you're pretty quick" I responded, "I mean wittiness not running, obviously!" I felt a burst of adrenaline course through my veins. I heard him mumbling something under his breath as I quickly cruised up the trail. "That was kinda mean" I thought, "Nah, that was pretty damn funny.."
I was about 3 miles into the climb when I realized I was on the fastest pace I've ever had. It is really hard to shave time off of this run. I've done Wrightson a handful of times and have always finished the ascent right around 1:18. My new mantra, "perpetual forward motion" (in case you forgot) was propelling me up the trail at an incredibly fast pace.
As I approached mile 4, my animalistic behavior took over. I felt drool dripping slowly down my chin, and I loved it. I was grunting relentlessly. The rain and wind continued, I was completely drenched. I was at peace. I reached mile 4 and looked at my Garmin; 58:56
I knew that if I could keep my pace under 20 minutes I would PR easily. The fact that I'm saying "keep my pace under 20 minutes" tells you just how ridiculously challenging this run truly is. I made quick use of the most runnable section of the day and began the last grueling stretch before the summit.
There was not one second that I had not been moving forward. Not one fraction of a second that I wasn't pushing myself to my limit all day. And I felt it. It was going to pay off! I absolutely love the last section before topping out. Endless switchbacks of rock, each looking identical to the last.
I knew I was nearing the top. I was at my limit. I couldn't go any faster. "Good job, man!" Catlow shouted at me as he made his descent. "Thanks!" I replied. A few seconds later Nate came rumbling down the trail. "Nice job!" He said, "you too!" I responded as I kept on truckin'..
I knew nothing short of a heart attack would prevent me from setting a new PR. My mind was filled with excitement as I pushed up the final stretch of rock extravaganza.
I hit the summit, looked down at my Garmin; 1:14:30
The elation I had is indescribable. It is the reason I do this. I felt half-dead at the beginning of the run and fought through it, crushing my old PR in the process.
I stood up there for a brief moment while the wind and rain slapped me around. I looked in every direction at this beautiful planet. I reminisced. "You may be the luckiest person on earth" I thought to myself. I am enriched with freedom.
One of the most interesting elements of running is that it mirrors life in so many ways. There are so many obstacles and so much challenge. You can give in or you can fight. The choice is yours.
And so it was. A day for me to go and do exactly what I thought impossible. And why not? I may do that run a dozen more times on fresh legs and miss that mark.
Then again, I may not.
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| Summit Life ~ Mount Wrightson |
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