Defeat
In 2013 I took on the Pikes Peak Ascent race in Manitou Springs, CO. This race is 13.32 miles up a mountain with 7,815ft of vertical gain, and this is also a 14,110ft mountain. I am pretty convinced I may have been the least experienced person there, only having done one half marathon to qualify just 3 days before the entry. I trained on trails, on high inclines on the treadmill, and with the elevation mask. I knew I was kind of in over my head, but that was the exciting part. This race is why I wanted to run in the first place. The end result of that day was missing a cut off time by a few minutes, and having to walk back down. It had never crossed my mind that this was an option. On the way down my feeling of defeat was short lived as I spent the time with a great group of ladies who had more experience than I, and that was encouraging because we were all in the same spot. It was also a record year of DNF's.
After returning home I spent a few months battling plantar fascists. I got in a few runs and decided to sign up for a half marathon with a three day notice, just to see what I could pull off in a day. It was a great race, and helped my outlook of continuing to run. Not long later, I had had a hip injury that lasted the better part of this year. My cardio conditioning had hit a low point.
Exhaustion
About 10 days ago I returned to Pikes Peak to hike it. Due to interrupted travel issues and weather we started at 3am with only a few hours of sleep. We have all had that feeling of being so exhausted and it feels like a battle to stay awake. That was the premise of the day, and it unfolded into a series of personal discomforts. We met a hiking buddy, Daniel, about 2 miles before tree line that continued with us. My pace was already slow, although I did have a bit of pick up energy that lasted above tree line and came to a crash when the combination of sleep deprivation and oxygen deprivation hit me lit a big wave. My heart rate was so high I could barely move 1mph as the temperature was rapidly dropping and we were being surrounded by clouds. Even if lightning had begun to strike I wasn't moving any faster. I just focused on each step that seemed to take everything out of me. I have never been this exhausted, and then the freezing rain started. I was fairly disoriented, but too tired to even complete many thoughts. I wondered how I was ready to race on this trail last year as I put on a poncho to not be soaking wet. Eventually that last step was done, and I made it slowly into the summit house to hear some one talking about it being 35 degrees. I couldn't even lift my arms to take off the poncho, I spent 3 minutes ripping it off and sat down. Not long after the park rangers ordered every one off the mountain because of a snow storm. Very thankful to that young soldier and his family that brought us back down, and pulling off for me to throw up.
Does this sound like fun? It still beats a day at Disney to me, and although it was the most exhausting day of my life I went to bed with the affirmation that "I will last".
Fuel
The trip was not a surprising revelation of my lack of conditioning, but a reference point. So with encouragement of my mental toughness I came home and signed up for a 50 mile race on Mar 28th. http://fortclinch100.com/ We are all capable of much more than we do, and I want to close the gap on wondering and achieving. I am far from being ready to take that on, but there is a long time limit on a great coarse. I have access to amazing people to encourage and help me and look forward to sharing a victory that doesn't seem realistic at the moment.
Just after sunrise.
When it started getting colder.
