woodside trail 35k — a few months in a few minutes.
sunday, october 20, 2019.
i am a big fan of registering for low-key local races leading up to a goal race. these tune-up races get me out of the door, add purpose to a long run, and provide an opportunity to rehearse racing. they are my perfect excuse to drive down a bit further, explore unfamiliar trails, spend some quality time with friends old and new.
this time i managed to convince two of my dear friends — david and michelle to sign up the woodside trail run (organized by pacific coast trail run). m. was anxious; in her characteristically self-conscious fashion she was worried about being slow and therefore disappointing. in my attempt to reassure her, i told her that none of this matters and that a trail race is basically a giant party in the woods.
and it’s true — one of the reasons i fell in love with trail running is its non hierarchical, down-to-earth nature. every participant wants to adventure through forests, over mountains, forge through streams, and push their physical and mental limits. it’s a personal quest: you against the terrain. it’s also a communal quest: runners fast and slow toe the same starting line, cover the same ground, battle against the same climb, and celebrate upon crossing the same finish line. we push each other and we bond over mutual suffering.
m. was sold. so at 8am last saturday, we went down to woodside on a perfect running weather day — chilly under the redwoods, and warm and sunny once you broke the tree line. the trail conditions were ideal for weaving our way up to the 2,000' climb to the top of huddart park. i went out fast on the initial big climb — heart rate kept at bay but definitely at a more aggressive pace than any of my previous races. the next stretch on the skyline ridge was just gorgeous, and my legs found a steady rhythm. for a couple of miles or so, i couldn’t see a soul in front of or behind me; and for a moment it felt like i was just out on my weekly long run, like i had done so many times in the past few months. the birds were singing in the lush and leafy canyons, my senses so alive and my heart so full.
is there any better place to be on a charming fall day?
at bear gulch aid station (11.7 mi), all 35k runners turn around and back to the skyline ridge trail. i suddenly became aware of the fact that i was the first female reaching this aid station. hmmm, interesting. i debated for a second if i wanted to push, and i quickly decided that i’d give it a go and let it flow. and so i kept moving at a decent pace, not allowing myself to be lazy despite warnings from my brain that the effort was probably a bit more than what my coach prescribed as a “training run”. alas, i was having too much fun and couldn’t get myself to hold back.
i rolled into the last aid station (17.4 mi), thanked the volunteers, and didn’t stop — knowing that there were only 3 plus miles left descending straight into the deep forest and to the finish. the chinquapin trail was so smooth that i was able to just let gravity do its magic. i didn’t rest going into this race, yet upon crossing the finish line i felt strong — running consistently and within myself while also pushing it a bit led to an unexpected win.
for the first time in a long time, i’m finally on the path to feeling fit.
finally.
i hand’t been running consistently at all since sage burner 50k last october. sure, i rolled my ankle twice and had to sit out for some weeks. but if i was being honest with myself, the injury was a convenient excuse for me to avoid running; and if i had cared enough, i would have put in the effort to do the little, unsexy things to keep myself healthy.
the truth was, i didn’t want to run. the miles i did get in were a struggle and felt uninspired. i often found myself intimated by the long runs — runs that i previously would have spent hours planning a route for and be pumped about.
after a couple of years building my fitness and mileage, it felt unthinkable to feel this way. but i did feel this way. so, rather than continue to drudge through the running doldrums, i decided i was going to embrace the downtime i seemed to need.
i put running on hold.
then, i took a trip to europe in late spring. i didn’t have any expectation, and i ran because it was an efficient way to explore a new place. i just ran for the hell of it — i ran in the steep ravines in cinque terre, through the terraces stacked and laced with vines of grape; i ran along the two banks of the mighty danube, immersed in budapest’s architectural majesty and its long, rich history; i ran through the ruins, the narrow corridors, and the promenade of split, weaving in and out the pathways, turned corner after corner, only to find yet another nook with yet another hidden cafe, restaurant, or bar; i ran around lake bohinj and its surrounding steep cliffs, watching the sun shine through the heavy clouds — and in the horizon — the crystal turquoise blue water shimmer and glint.
that glorious moment stuck with me. it breathed and still breathes liveliness.
i came back from the trip feeling alive and craving for more miles. it took a few months, but the hunger to pursue goals, and the fire to chase after something big came back. i felt i was mentally in a place where i could commit to consistent training; to throw myself wholeheartedly into hard work. i was once again looking forward to logging every conceivable mile imaginable in training, either on the road or on the trails, either solo or with friends.
i had my eyes set on the north face endurance challenge california.
having never done a 50-miler before, i knew this one with over 10,000 feet of climbing in the (in)famous marin headlands wasn’t particularly beginner-friendly. except, it just felt so right at the moment, for reasons i still can’t quite articulate.
oh well.
i started working with coach hayden hawks, and it’s been such a fun and rewarding journey. i settle into a routine, and i wake up every day with a purpose. running becomes the anchor in my life. it provides a structure that helps me navigate through an otherwise blurry, bewildering and sometimes nonsensical world.
training for the north face challenge had made me realize i was capable of more than i ever thought possible, and that realization had triggered similar shifts across my life both personally and professionally. maybe it was a whole summer of running trails and climbing my ass up those hills that led to an autumn of soul searching and asking “why not?”. by late october, my calendar had this big race pinned down on november 16, but my notebook also has bullet points like “join data engineering team”, “live off carry-ons”, “speak spanish”, as well as an inexhaustible list of places and countries i want to visit and live.
i flew past the finish line, having felt like i’d lived through the past few months all over again in a short three hours.
surreal.
i quickly located david and m. who had finished their respective distances (17k and 10k). those two crushed their first trail race! we chatted, commiserated a bit, laughed a lot, all over our well-deserved beer. the runners continued to roll in — and we gave each other high-fives, sweaty hugs, and hot soups, all for this intimate celebration of community.
amidst the festive chatter, i walked to a corner and closed my eyes for a brief moment.
lay it down. take it in. offer it up. pour it forth.
and i asked myself — how are you going to show up for the big dance in two weeks? dreaded, or daring? suspicious, or believing? fatalistic and hell no, or fiery and fuck yeah?
guess we’ll find out soon enough.
