At about 2pm on December 3rd I thought, "I should run an ultra before my birthday..."
Unfortunately, my birthday was just three days away and the snowfall warning was consistent for the remainder of the week. My only option was to set out first thing in the morning and hope I could finish before the snow piled too high.
Since September, when my feet finally felt strong enough to resume running, I was enjoying a few 5KMs here and there but nothing serious. In October, after getting into my car shaking uncontrollably from another barefoot half marathon, I swore I would never run again. I shifted all my attention to training for the #TherapeuoThousand, which sent me to the gym to lift every single day. I forgot about running completely, having lost all love for the sport - sometimes even experiencing traumatic flashbacks as I considered what I had put my body through back in June.
While training for the #500Barefoot I had been following an extremely lean diet and hesitant to lift heavy because muscle mass just meant more weight to carry. With everything running long erased from my mind I started to stack the weights and load the calories. I felt fantastic.
The month of November was a write-off for all things fitness. I spent the first week sick, the second week in Utah, the third and fourth week in Alaska and another 4 days sick again at home. I had hit the gym maybe 3 times in 30 days and my body was vibranting with energy to be used. Regardless of how much I had grown to hate running, it was embedded in my bones, and I knew it would be the best way to get back in the game.
Here's the thing: 10% of my love for ultra endurance is claiming a courageous distance, while 90% comes from the mental breakdowns and breakthroughs that occur along the way.
There is something emotionally liberating that comes from delving into such a physical terror...many would go as far as to call it addictive - a description I can affirm is accurate. I don't seek these mental breakthroughs because I think I'm broken. I seek these mental breakthroughs because we are instinctively programmed for self-protection, not self-actualization. As long as we operate within the limits of comfort, we are operating at a primative state, which keeps us alive but not living. We can only tap into a higher wave length, a broader perspective or even a happier existence, when we realize we were designed for more than survival. What we're designed for is so intensely personal that no single explaination holds profound value for the masses; for some it will be to create masterpieces of art while others will find their design leads them to playing with circuts of electrity. What can be defined, is the feeling that accompanies the arrival at our higher self. It looks a lot like this:
Waking up excited.
Forgetting about time.
Being unbothered by chaos.
Experiencing greater positivity.
Attracting a community that lifts you even higher.
(I'm stopping myself from redirecting this entire post onto this topic right here...back to the 100KM run!)
Like all ultras, everything that could've gone wrong happened with the first hour. It seems to be the pattern with all my extreme outings - sometimes feeling like the universe is poking at me saying, "Are you ready? Are you sure you're really ready?"
...and while I was lying in bed at 3AM staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, I certainly wasn't feeling too ready.
I made my shake, did my stretching (feet up the wall being the most critical), and got my gear together. As I opened the door, a vocal huff left my mouth as I looked at the inch of slippery snow already covering the sidewalk. The forecast had predicted snowfall in the afternoon, but Mother Nature clearly had different plans. I grabbed an extra layer for my ears and set off. It was well below freezing and my lungs took a brief moment to adjust to the temperatures before they finally obliged.
The plan was to run to Waterton National Park, 50KM away and loop back to complete the run. After nearly being hit by a snowplough, dodging a few speedy highway cars and having a near escape from two aggressive dogs, I determined the route was making this far more challenging than it needed to be. My Mom loaded me in the car and buzzed me into a residential zone. Having only been in the town for a week, I didn't know more than 2 roads. She helped me quickly design a 20KM loop, which included a few hills I hadn't predicted and off I set, completely solo.
Cardston - the town I was running - is about as boring as walking a game of golf (sorry for the comparison). There's approximately 1800 people, with about 4 foodchains and two grocery stores. You can run the main strip in about 6 - 10 minutes and you'll find the view in every direction the same: a dry, barren wasteland. To some, the landscape is beautiful, to me, it's motivation to book plane tickets. I now, had a 20KM loop I would have to run 5 times in order to get the distance and let me tell you ... I was not looking forward to it.
If you've read "The Run: A Barefoot Journey To Change," you'll recall me talking about the necessity to be conservative with the mental energy you invest to any single thought. I knew that complaints and worry needed to be tossed aside if I intended to get a move on.
As you'll already know, a half marathon (21KM) is my favourite distance, and I crushed it out before sunrise. I was having a jam, enjoying the silence of snow and the quiet roads. I pulled my marathon off without any pain and started widdling towards 50KM. I couldn't believe how fantastic I felt. My pace was consistent, my body complying with everything I was asking of it. The snow was creating a beautiful cushion which I think had a huge impact on how my ankles felt - something that have always felt a little off since the run. My muscles were happy to keep going but I remember around noon my eyes just getting exhausted. Staring at bright snow all day was having a negative effect, but sunglasses were frustrating as they kept fogging up or getting hazy with the wet snow on their surface. I could even feel my cheeks burnt from the sun, despite it being freezing outside.
At 60KM I was starting to feel a little something something, which is slightly terrifying considering I was heading out the door to run another marathon. My ankles were swelling bad and it left my toes feeling numb. I spent a minute with my legs up the wall trying to increase circulation and started popping Advil because I was so afraid of what was coming. I wasn't naive to the pain caused by ultras - the memories of the 500KM Barefoot were so fresh I can still feel the very moment my foot caved in after feeling an enormous crack in my dorsal flexion. It was horrific to remember and something I was just begging wouldn't happen twice.
I started getting lighter on my feet, doing whatever I do to reduce impact. But again, my muscles actually felt amazing. It was my eyes that kept drooping and the tightness in my calf / ankles that was getting annoying.
4PM it was getting dark and I found myself slipping on ice in every direction. I had taken two bad falls on black ice- one sending me into the splits and tearing my groin muscle. I was having to walk across every intersection to avoid slipping and my pace was dangerously slowing. So, again, we improvised.
The final 15KM were accomplished on a treadmill inside. I blasted the music in the basement and had a party. I couldn't believe my pace and my ability to keep bouncing.
In exactly 13.01 hours later I reached 100KM. And I was dead.
Surprisingly, the next day I woke up and felt well enough to do some yoga (my hips weren't happy about the situation) and a day after that I was back in the gym.
What I discovered from this experience, was how important weightlifting was to gaining the muscle endurance I feel I lacked on the 500KM Barefoot. I also realized how easy running in shoes is - so much pressure from your calf and tendon is taken off simply by having a cushioned landing to each step. Yet again, I completely ignored all the training plans and timelines for accomplishing something and set my own goal in my own mind. Sure, I might've been faster had I actually prepared and trained, but the goal was to finish, not to break a world record.
Regardless if you're an avid runner or a complete hater of the sport, the lesson we can all learn from this ultra is simple.
Don't let others define your possible.
...and taking an entire month off of exercising isn't always a setback!
Leave a comment