at one ment

in june i ran a 35 mile trail race with 8400 feet of climb. i started the race knowing i would struggle and experience indescribable pain, both emotionally and physically, but that i could walk as much as i needed to. before the race i filled my pack with the items that i felt would be necessary to help me get from start to finish. i poured ice and fluids into my bladder bag for hydration and chose lightweight, extra clothing for protection against the elevation and the elements. i filled my pack pockets with easily useable calories for fueling and i packed my red bandana for emotional support. my dad used to run with a red bandana, and since he passed on and i miss him, running with one helps me to draw on his strength when i feel overwhelmed. the race started with cool moisture in the air and a double rainbow in the southern sky. i wondered if that double rainbow was an omen of good things to come but with the dark clouds that also inhabited the sky, it was hard to say. my nerves were raw and confused as the palpable energy of all participants seemed to arm wrestle with my fear of failing this monumental undertaking. for a few miles the trail was wide and smooth with little rolling hills as i wound along a small creek bed but then, following the marked race course, i began to gain elevation as i turned southward and climbed a spring run-off drainage area that seems to have been re-inforced with boulders to protect the landscape from erosion. this section, steep and rocky, required scrambling to make progress on the trail. my quads started to burn and having only completed less than 1/4 of the distance i got a little nervous. shortly, however, as i moved from this section to the next, i left the cover of the trees and from the smooth, single track switch backs i could see how far i had really travelled and i knew i could continue. life, sometimes, gets hard that way too, doesn't it? at the crest of this hilltop, the course followed a forest service road wide enough for a vehicle. the view was spectacular and covered three sides of the landscape and as i enjoyed it, i tripped on a rock and fell to the ground knocking the wind out of my lungs. i picked my self up, sucked in some fresh mountain air, and started to move forward again. the race route turned onto a double track, four wheeler wide, and entered the shade of forest once again. the dark clouds had dissapated with the rising sun and i was relieved to feel the coolness radiating from the trees. after climbing out of a canyon and cresting another hilltop, i ran, enjoyng the easy downhill, until i reached the mink creek aid station having covered just over 16 miles into my race. after fueling and re-filling my pack, i took a deep breath and forced myself to leave the comfort of the aid station and begin the rest of my journey. i alternately jogged and hiked up the trail in the heat, eating peanut m & M's, as i fought fatigue. a friend joined me for a few miles and provided some positive energy and support. an aid station worker handed me a cup full of chicken broth and sliced potatoes that tasted like liquid gold while replenishing my body with much needed salt and fluids. i took some motrin and tylenol and hoped they would ease the growing aches i felt over the entirety of my body. i left the comfort of that camp chair and continued to move forward on my course. the trail continue upward into the elements, the landscape becoming more barren and rocky as i climbed, the heat bouncing off the rocks. i encountered small piles of snow, left over from winter, and filled my red bandana to soak my face and neck and cool my skin. i prayed and begged for help from those lost to me and inhabiting other spacial arenas. i wrapped that red bandana around my hand, wet from snow, and grasped it tightly to feel the pressure of the cotton around my palm and pretend my dad was pulling me up the mountain as i struggled both physically and mentally. my body hurt so much, but my heart hurt worse. i thought about where i had come from, my dad and my family; and i thought about where i was going and how it all would work out. i felt overwhelmed with pain, ached for all the mistakes i had made and the people i had hurt, and i pushed forward knowing i could not quit. i squeezed my fingers tighter around my red bandana and prayed for relief as i continued up the mountain. i felt a small surge of energy and a boost to my spirit. when i reached the top of scout mountain i just stopped to stare at the expanse of the universe and revive myself with thoughts of God and creation and gratitude for a healthy body and for so many happy things and the people in my life i knew i could not manage without and i made a decision to push hard to the finish. and i kept moving forward. i struggled on the descent though. it was too steep to run and every foot fall pounded my wrecked body and i thought about how even when we make right choices life can be difficult. after a few minutes though,i reached a soft single track, and coasted down the trail like i had wings and i felt free. the trail curved around the landscape and wound through the forest, descending from the harsh element-laden mountain top and back into the tree line towards more easily accessed ground. i ran over a rocky section of trail and back onto soft ground and tripped over a rock. i put my left hand down first but rolled right over it and landed on my face on a tree root growing across the ground. i stood up, wiped off my mud and blood covered face, pushed the skin hanging from the bridge of my nose back into place, and started running again. feeling completely overwhelmed, achy, and alone and knowing that i still had 7 miles to cover and i started to cry. softly at first, but then the dam broke and i sobbed for two miles, salty tears and sweat mixed with the blood dripping down my face. it tasted bitter as i tried to continue to hydrate myself against the rising heat and i felt devastated and lonely and i prayed, again, for help. when i reached the next aid station, an older man took me by the arm, spoke to me sweetly, sat me down, and gently proceeded to wash my face with fresh cold water. his wife handed me a cup of sprite, liquid silver, which rejuvenated me and i continued down the trail toward the finish.

i ran down the road for while before the course turned westward through an area that, in the winter, is a popular nordic skiing retreat. the greenery in the meadows held the heat near the ground like a suffocating fog. i walked when i had to, ran when i could, and i sucked warm fluid from my bladder bag every few minutes to push away the tingles and nausea of dehydration and heat exhaustion. finally, i reached the road with only 1/2 of a downhill mile to the finish line, homemade chili, and a soak in the cold creek. as i sat in the cold water soaking my aching body i prayed for relief from my pains, expressed my gratitude for my family and my healthy body and watched as the mud, the blood, the sweat, and the tears wash away in the current as i unwrapped that red bandana from my hand. and i remembered the view from the top of scout mountain, the expanse of the universe, and the gratitude that i felt and i realized that though i travelled that distance over the rocks and changing elevations and the varying landscapes mostly in solitude, i was never really alone.