the day I ran up the mountain

aka: possibly the longest post to ever be posted. Does blogger have a word limit?

disclaimer: I love to read other runners race day stories.....because I run. If running is not your thing, and you do not care for all the details, here is the short version:

I ran up a mountain. It was hard. It was awesome. It was gorgeous. My legs burned. I finished. I want to do it again. soon.

I don't know where to begin with this one. I wish I could have filmed the entire thing--from nervous start to wonderful finish, with each slip in the mud, and sip of water in between. But you'll just have to take a peek at all of my mental notes.

Saturday I ran the Timpanogos Trail 1/2 Marathon. 

While not my first race, it was my first trail race.....and I was nervous. SO NERVOUS!! There were so many unknowns--and all those unknowns would be taking place  somewhere on top of a mountain, most likely by myself. What if I fell? How long would it take me--I had never run over 2 hours in my life. What if I didn't like it? What if everyone passed me, and left me to finish last? What if I just couldn't do it....then what?? Should I lie down on a rock and wait for vultures to take me away??

 I didn't know, and it scared me.

the elevation map.

I eagerly bounced out of bed early Saturday morning, in a quiet, sunlit house, ate my breakfast while I studied the elevation chart one last time, and headed down to the start.

Shoes laced, chapstick applied, a trip to the bathroom (because heaven forbid I have to use a bush!) and a few quick stretches and I was ready to go. I think.

water. check.

gatorade. check.

gu. check.

watch. check.

ipod--oh wait--I'm not racing with music. that was a first. a nervous first.

Exactly 100 other runners + myself, headed up to the start.

"Any questions??" the race director asked......and....

"GO!"

And they're off! I'm off!

Go slow. Slow. Slow. "Pace yourself"-- I repeated over and over in my head. I have a bad habit of starting much too quickly for my own good, and since I had no idea what was waiting for me over the next bend of the mountain (literally), I forced myself into a comfortable pace that would allow me to save some energy for later....you know, so I wouldn't die, and stuff.

We ran right into the sun. I inhaled. Exhaled. I'M DOING IT!! This was it! I was so happy--I had been staring down this race and talking about it/worrying over it since February. It was finally happening!

We made our way up a fire road, and then took a steep turn to go up. Up up up and into a beautiful meadow that looked straight up at Mt. Timpanogos. A perfectly placed single lane trail right through the middle of the small valley--tall green grass brushing up against my legs and campers gathered around their morning fire, waving at the runners. I took as many notes as I could, wishing I had a little camera on me.

Our first short, steep climbs.

My first walk. 

Well.....I guess it can't really be called just plain old "walking". 

ha! 

I have never walked in a race--I'm much to hard on myself, but I knew going in that this would be different than a road race.  I knew there would be some hiking involved. I thought my legs would get tired, and I would say, "ok legs, let's take a short walking break". 

What I didn't realize was that there were parts--steep parts--where my legs would 

just.

stop.

running.

Impossible to do so. Energy wasted on the up and down motion of running.

It was like instinct took over (are people born with natural trail running instinct? ha! who knows?!) 

I got down low in my [scrawny, very un-mountain-woman] legs and propelled myself up with exaggerated, but much needed, force.

And then back to running.

Another fire road.

HILARIOUS!!

Why? 

Mud. 

Ev-er-y-where. 

Not mud like I was used to running in.....it was some kind of mutant cousin, surely mixed with paste. It had rained the entire week--rained and rained and rained, right up until a few hours before the race began. I ran along laughing--by myself--trying to place every step carefully so I didn't take a spill. It slopped and sprayed and reached up, threatening to steal my shoes off my feet. It licked and lapped up the back of my legs, my back, up into my birds-nest hair. The ground was sliding beneath me, and it took every muscle in my body to keep myself upright.

And this went on and on. and on. Around a big bend, some fast fun downhill, and finally! Back to single track. Some more crazy ups followed by sharp downs.

I'm doing it!! 

I kept cheering myself on. Mostly inside, but sometimes as I  would hit the top, and adjust my stride to the downhill pace a "Whooooooooo hooooooo!" escaped my lips. It felt good.

I thought I had a handle on things. I was doing it! Yes it was hard, but all very doable. I don't have a fancy schmancy watch to track my milage, so I had no idea what mile I was at--I was just trying to enjoy all of it.

And then.

dun dun DUUUUN!!!!

The Stairs. 

Yes, there were stairs in this race--let me just warn you, in case you decide to do it. I never thought a staircase would give me so much trouble. Giant railroad ties, packed into the dirt, rising a foot, sometimes more out of the steep, uphill ground. After only a few, my legs were dooooone.

They were screaming at me. I pushed up on the step, as hard as I could--walked to the next, and did it over again. Trying not to look up at how many more there were.

"Why are we DOING this?!!" I heard the man in front of me yell.

I met hikers on their way dowwwwwn, offering encouraging words. 

Down seemed really nice right about now.

Down.

I knew I would eventually get to go down. But I had to make it up first.

I continually had to remind myself of my reward that would someday come.

FINAlLY!! The Stairs were over. But the mountain was not.

Oh no.

This is where The Mountain actually began. 

Hiking. 

Pushing off my [chicken] legs, pulling myself up an imaginary rope with my arms.

If it leveled out at all--even for ten steps--I forced my legs to run. 

My legs didn't want to run. 

They were jello. 

But I had to shake out the "burn", and I would say this--"shake out the burn".

Keep in mind I had no music on --a race first for me, and no Charly to talk to, so I took up talking to myself.

oh well.

I was guessing I was somewhere around 8 miles-ish. I knew I still had quite a bit of uphill to conquer.

Up up up.

I was feeling things in my legs I have never felt. New muscles were being born at that very moment!

"At that root I will run to that rock"

"At that tree I will run to that tree"

And so it went.

And then I was at the top!!

Oh but I wasn't.

"Does it just go on forever??!" I heard a voice behind me.

It was a moment like this that I had been so afraid of before the race had even started. What if I couldn't do it? If there was ever a time to think that, it was probably now. My legs were burning. 

My buns......OH MY BUNS.

But I knew I could do it. 

I never once doubted. I continued the push and pull. I synchronized my breath with the crunch of the ground beneath me. 

I was so thankful not to have distracting music blaring in my ears.

 I loved taking everything in--with all of my senses.

The mountain was picture perfect. 

The air fresh and clean--not to hot or too cold. 

I could taste salt from my body, and hear myself working to get up. 

Feel every part of my body working--for me.

A bit of a jog to shake out my legs and then back to pushing. The trees started to clear.

Don't celebrate yet. 

Run. Jog. Ouch. Placing each step carefully.

Hike. Hike. Run. Hike.

I made it.

Over the edge, I could see the general (down!) direction where the finish line waited. 

A little over two miles to go. I've got this.

Down down down. My body begged to fly. I tried to slow myself--I had never run down a trail so rocky and steep, and after having come so far I didn't want to end up a pile of twisted limbs crying in the bushes. I made a mental note to myself "practice running downhill", so I'd be ready for next time.

Next time.

I was already planning it.

Down down down I went. Limbs flailing, body tired, but willing to keep going.

My feet hit the fire road--I was almost done.

Down down down. I felt a surge of energy and let it have its way and take me to the end.

Right before I made it to the finish--I saw my family--my kids were cheering! Anyone who's run a race knows that this is the BEST part of it--seeing your little ones cheer you on. I could have continued on for miles with their support.

I.

was.

done.

!!!

The race volunteer scanned my number and for the first time I stopped. Legs steady. I juuuuust about tipped over. My legs were jelly, and felt unattached to the rest of my body. 

But they did it. 

I hurried over to celebrate with my family.

First race done.

Relieved. Exhausted. Excited. 

Ready for more. 

Who's with me next time??