It’s the middle of the night and I’m trying to get my eyes to focus as the light of my headlamp bounces off of the fog in front of me. I’m two miles from the finish line of a 62 mile trail race in Texas, and I’m feeling strong as I start to close in on the end of the day. I hadn’t been feeling that way for most of the day - I spent miles 25-40 dry heaving and throwing up, but caught a second wind in the last 21 miles of the race and managed to rally back to a decent pace. For the majority of that time I had been alone, so as I squint through the glare of my headlamp, I’m surprised when another light starts to come into view ahead of me.
“Is that another runner?” I think to myself. Long distance trail running sometimes has a funny way of making you feel like you’re the only one out there - there usually aren’t many runners on course and over such big miles it’s easy to get separated from each other. Due to how much I had to slow down in the middle of the race and not seeing anyone for most of the day, I had assumed that anyone who was ahead of me at that point was far ahead of me and was out of reach competitively.
Despite that, I had been pushing myself hard physically and mentally in the last third of the race. Not because I thought I could catch anyone, but because I knew holding myself accountable to giving my absolute best under the tough circumstances I’d faced throughout the day would leave me feeling really proud at the finish.
As I approach the light ahead of me I realize that it’s coming from two other runners. I slow my pace to say hello and give a few words of encouragement before passing them and picking it back up to head to the finish. I feel a fresh bolt of excitement realizing I had unexpectedly caught two competitors who had been ahead of me for the entirety of the day. I think about how that opportunity presented itself because I didn’t allow myself to make excuses or let my foot off the gas pedal, even though it would have been easy to do so.
In other sports, athletes can motivate themselves to push through adversity and discomfort by seeing how close they are to catching their competitors or how close their competitors are to catching them. This dynamic rarely exists in trail running because your competitors are often out of sight. When the going gets tough, it comes down to how accountable you are to giving your honest best and how willing you are to not let up no matter the circumstance or outcome.
Trail running teaches me this over and over again - to make the effort the objective and to keep hammering even when the possibilities have not yet come into view. They’re beautiful lessons I’m happy to be reminded of that have both changed the way I race and changed the way I live.
How can we help you keep hammering toward your goals? Connect with us at https://wilddogathletics.com/join-the-pack to learn more about the strength and endurance coaching services we offer.
