Race Reports

In August of this year, I signed up to run a new 100-mile race in Texas. To be specific, I signed up for the race the night before the race. On a whim. Like a crazy person. I think stress from full-time work and full-time school drove me to this extreme, where I started thinking how lovely it would be if I had a full-day break from worrying about work and deadlines. As a friend would comment later, “You were literally running away from your problems!”

When you ascend from the fall foliage and backcountry of Santa Barbara, and top out on the chaparral-cloaked Santa Ynez Mountains during the Red Rock 50 Ultra Marathon, the view of the Santa Barbara Riviera, the Pacific Ocean and the Channel Islands National Park are simply stunning. For a moment you really stop dwelling on the effort at hand, quads and calves screaming at you with every steep pitch. At this point you have to take in the surroundings and soak it all in during one challenging race.

Maybe I could do that? But people who do that are crazy…and dumb. Maybe I want to be crazy and dumb. But those people are strong and determined. Maybe I want to be strong and determined. No, I could never do that…seems crazy….but maybe.

I’m sitting here, guiltily sipping chamomile tea from a beautiful ceramic mug that I paid for, yet did not earn.

It’s an SOB 50M finisher’s mug. The award given out to the supremely rugged savages who spent a perfectly good Saturday hauling ass through 50 miles of Southern Oregon’s mountainous trails.

Mile 56, the last aid station. It was roughly 10:30 at night. Not sure because I was exhausted. I was asked what I needed. I just told them to top off my water bottles. Both bottles were yanked from my vest. Next thing I knew I had a cup of electrolyte in one hand and a cup of chicken noodle soup in the other.