Good Morning Finishers,
This edition of Monday Mugs is a special one for me personally. This past weekend I did something I’ve never done before. I completed a 56-mile trail run. This was 14 miles farther than I had ever gone before, and one of the most challenging things I’ve ever completed.
While I’d really rather not talk about my own personal achievements in this newsletter, the process of doing this race is one that I think every runner can relate to. Sure, you may not be gearing up to run a 50+ mile race, but you’re likely training for something that might scare you a little bit.
Whether you’re preparing to run your first marathon, half marathon, or even a new personal best, I think you’ll find value in the things I experienced while running this race and get a taste of what you will experience when you take on that challenge.
Pre-Race Jitters
Before any race, you’re going to be nervous, and the bigger the challenge, the more anxious you’ll be. The most fulfilling goals are the ones that scare you and let me tell you, this one scared the bejeezus out of me.
The day before your big day, you will feel something similar. You’ll consider the enormity of the challenge you are about to face. Worst-case scenarios might flash through your mind. Sleeping will be a challenge. This is all normal. Accept it, embrace it, and remind yourself that you’re ready to do this.
I’ve attempted one 50 mile run in my life before and it resulted in my first ever DNF (Did not Finish). That race was grueling, with 12,000 ft of climb over 50 miles and at mile 42 my friend Colton and I decided that it was time to pack it in. I quit, and that bad taste has sat in my mouth ever since.
With the memories of that race lingering in my mind, I felt both motivated and utterly terrified to attempt running 56 miles this time around. The weather forecast for the race multiplied my nerves as it was supposed to be cold, windy, rainy, and snowy throughout the entire day. Awesome.
Off To The Races
The journey begins and there’s no turning back now. In the first few miles of a race, you can’t help but just smile. Your legs are fresh, people are all around, and you start to realize that you’re actually doing the damn thing you’ve been working so hard for.
My first dose of runner’s high kicks in here. Despite a dreary prediction, the weather was perfect. I started the day at 6:30 AM and the sun was just coming up over the mountains. I spent the first few miles talking to a few of the other runners telling war stories of 240-mile races, past Ironmans they had done, and how they’ve been handling the stressors of this pandemic.
My nerves morphed into happiness. I was exactly where I wanted to be.
This isn’t so bad…
Now you’re well into the race and you know what, things are going pretty friggin well. This is the point where you see your hard work paying off and start to just enjoy the moment. You might start to feel a little fatigue here but you expected this to happen. Is there still a long way to go? Oh yeah. Are you thinking about it? Hell no.
At this point for me, I was just appreciating being out there more than anything. COVID-19 had washed up all my racing aspirations since March so this was the first time in a while I could get out there. The scenery was beautiful. The weather was just right. My legs felt as though I had just started the race. Things were just peachy and I was, in a sinister way, excited that I had so much longer to be out there.
Woah, we're halfway there
The halfway point. At this stage, the pain starts to sink in a bit deeper, but the vision of the finish line starts to feel real. Now instead of counting up the miles you’ve traveled, you can start to count down the miles to the finish. You’ve put in half the work, and now all you have to do is head back home.
Halfway points are big for me. In my training, I mentally position every long run as two separate shorter runs to make it seem a little less frightening. If I’m going for a 10-mile run, I think about running 5 miles first, and 5 miles after. The same logic applies here. ~27 miles down, and 28 to go. That’s all I had to do.
In ultra-marathons (anything over a marathon), you are allowed to bring something called a drop-bag. This is just a bag of supplies that you want to pick up later in the race. We got two for this race, and at this aid station, I was pumped to pick up two banana bread Lara bars I had saved (best flavor hands down). This aid station also had chicken salad sandwiches that I was pretty stoked about too. What a feast!
JK this is really bad
Time for the (not so) fun part. Here is where you feel the pain of being 2/3 of the way there. Despite having so many miles behind you, there are still so many more miles to go. Your feet may start to hurt, calves beginning to burn, quads on fire, and stomach-turning like a washing machine. This is what we call a low.
When I took this video, I thought I was less than 2 miles away from reaching the next aid station. There, I would reach my second drop-bag (with my red bull and dry clothes), and Colton, the friend I mentioned before that attempted the last 50 miler with me.
Turns out, it was more than 4 miles away. While the distance doesn’t seem long, the disappointment of going further than I expected crushed my momentum. I was really tired, cold, and still had more than 20 miles to go. I was 7 hours into this thing and still had about 6 hours until I expected to finish. Fudge me, this sucks.
End in sight baby
Here my friends is the magical moment when you realize that you might actually finish this thing. The number of miles left is a number that isn’t so scary anymore. The vision of crossing the finish line starts to feel tangible and I can promise you that a smile will smack you in the face right about this time. You’re going to do this, now all you have to do is just get it done.
The first few miles after picking up Colton was easily the worst part of the race (let’s say miles 38-42). I had to walk a good amount as my stomach put me on the verge of puking and my legs felt like they had nothing left to give. I was #overit.
The unfortunate reality that hits you here is that there’s only one way to finish the race: Keep Running.
So after throwing one hell of a pity party, I forced myself to pick up the pace. I would run for 1/10 of a mile and walk for another 1/10. After a bit I started to run for 2/10, then 3/10, and soon enough I was back to full-on running again. Colton and I trekked down a long downhill with a beautiful sunset along the horizon until we hit another aid station. There, I ate some ginger candy and tums for my stomach, took a 5-minute sit, and prepared myself for the last 9 miles of the race.
I turned to Colton and said. “Dude, we’re actually going to do this.” I felt relief, smiled, and turned on my headlamp ready to finish the race in the dark.
The Last Leg
The finish is so close you can literally taste it. All you have to do is will yourself across the last 5% of the race and then you are done. You might have family or friends waiting for you at the finish and get a rush of excitement to reach them.
In a few moments, you’ll get to the finish, and bask in the glory that you have craved for months. But this moment, the last 2 miles of the race, is a special moment just for you. This where you might reflect on all the SUCK you went through to get here and welcome the satisfaction of achieving your goal. You might consider all the training you put in or recall all the times you said you could NEVER do something like this.
My recommendation: Take 2 minutes to be proud of yourself. Be in your thoughts. You’re going to celebrate with others for the rest of the night. Take some time to celebrate yourself.
I absolutely crushed the last 6 miles of the race. I asked Colton to put on a specific song that I knew would set me on fire. As soon as he hit play, I took off.
All of the pain and suffering washed away and I lost myself in the music. I ran under 10 minute pace miles for the first time since the beginning of the race. I would see headlamps ahead and chase them down until I left them in the dust. It was important to me that I left everything out on the course, and that was what I planned to do.
Then I took my two minutes. I thought about the first 50-mile attempt and how great it felt to bounce back and finish this one. I thought about my girlfriend Kay, and how excited I was to be warm in her arms. I reflected on all the emotions I felt during the day, the amazing sights I had seen, and the great people I met.
Lastly, I thought about you, the people of M1F. You all push me on a daily basis to be the absolute best I can be, and I can confidently say this achievement wouldn’t be possible without you.
Then, it started to snow…
The Finish Line
And then before you know it the race is over, and your moment begins. You cross the finish line.
It’s difficult to put words into what this experience is like. The moment you’ve dreamed about for so long is finally here. It’s the culmination of every early morning run that you didn’t want to do, every night out you sacrificed, and all the time you spent thinking this could never happen. The miles pounding the pavement, the sweat the blood, and the tears all become worth it.
It is this moment where you realize that nothing is impossible.
After almost 13 hours of running, I crossed the finish line and ran straight into Kay’s arms. My amazing sister Ashley was there to bring me home along with my friends David, Eddie, Staley, and Kevin. They all wore funny hats and picked up a dinky little trophy that I will cherish forever.
These moments are why I run. Nothing brings me more joy than overcoming my perceived impossible and re-defining what I can achieve in life. While this wasn’t my first finish line, the feelings are all the same. I did a hard thing and that ALWAYS feels like a million bucks.
Closing Thoughts
Everyone has their own unique experience when it comes to these types of challenges. Your story is different from mine and so our thoughts and emotions won’t be the same.
Here is what I hope you pull from this piece though. For whatever challenges you are getting ready to face, know that the hard work is worth it. The moment you cross the finish line, you will become forever grateful for every experience leading up to it. Race day will take you through a whirlwind of emotions, but at the end of the day, you will finish.
I cannot wait for you to experience your first finish line. Hopefully, this helps you mentally prepare for race day and encourages you to keep training hard. If you have already completed a race, I’m curious, what was it like for you?
As always, I love and appreciate each and every one of you. Thanks for being a part of M1F, reading this newsletter, and motivating me to do crazy stuff like this :)
Love,
Zack
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