ENDURANCE

I Was Going to Finish

My first ultramarathon — and the part I almost didn’t make it past.

The next tree. Photo by Sharissa Johnson on Unsplash

My running coach told me, 'Don’t look at the whole race.' Just run to the next tree. The next rock. Focus on the moment, the micro-scale.

Twenty miles in, I had had enough. It was unseasonably hot, my first ultramarathon, racing 32 miles in the Sierra Nevada foothills, and I was at the end of my rope. I had already made two serious mistakes, three if you count accidentally dissolving my electrolyte caps in the river (open ziplock baggie): The first was not paying attention to the marked trail which led me to running for a mile (!) off-course down a deep ravine, then following a river bed, before eventually realizing there was no trail, and accepting I was off course. My coach had reinforced contingency planning. “If off-course, double back” was my plan. I don’t want Search & Rescue coming for me. Back up the river, up the hill, in the heat.

The second was a few hours later — now far more tired than I would have been had I not made mistake number 1, when I crossed the American River. That cool, cool river soothing, quieting my aching muscles, the sound of the water a lullaby calling me to rest. Which I did, easing my aching body into the shallows on the far side, collapsing into the siren’s song of that…