Breakthrough on the Trail

Not that I'm an experienced trail runner, by any stretch of the imagination, but I'd like to think I've come a long way in the last year. Last weekend, though, I feel like I had a breakthrough on the trail. It was race #5 in the Aravaipa Running Trail Series. The final event before the finale in March (which I can't make it to). I didn't have high hopes for the day. My previous runs in the series have averaged anywhere from 13-15 minutes per mile. That's practically a walking pace.

Before the run we all gathered under the heat lamps to stay warm. I overheard a 17-year-old kid ask his parents how he was going to know where to go. They told him to just follow the runners in front of him. He replied, dead seriously, "but what if I'm winning?!!?" I told him not to worry, Nick and Jamil do a good job of marking the course and just to follow the signs. Shortly after the race started. I lined up toward the back of the pack since that's usually where I finish.

A mile into the race, I'm getting really pissed off because I'm surrounded by people (still?!) and there is a man behind me who sounds like he's having an asthma attack with every step. I want to turn and tell him to slow down, there's 15 miles to go! But I can't do that, that's mean. I'm really annoyed because one of the things I love most about the trail is the solitude. In the other events I practically ran the entire race completely alone. I like to hear my foot falls, get into a rhythm, and get lost in my thoughts. Can't do that when you're in a pack. I see a small chance to escape and I jump. As we enter a wash, I take off. Lay down the hurt for a brief minute, just enough to lose the heavy breather, and get just ahead of the pack. They stay with me for a bit, but slowly I gain some distance.

I'm alone now and loving the trail. We're in the San Tan Regional Park. The trail is fabulous; soft, hilly, not too rocky. The scenery is gorgeous. I am seriously loving every second. I pass people now and then. A few people pass me. Having studied the course map, I am aware of the out-and-back section at the end of the long loop. Soon we start climbing Goldmine Pass up, up and up over the mountain. It's steep, rocky. It's the only time I've stopped to walk so far, but when it's this steep my billy goat hike is much faster than my "run". At the top we round the peak of the mountain and start an even steeper, rockier descent. I get passed by a lot of people on the downhill cause I'm slip-sliding all over the place and all I can see is taking a nose-dive and ending up broken. At the bottom, I take off running again. Totally epic. Totally loving every second.

To the turn around and back, then I head back up the climb I just came down 15 minutes earlier. At this point I can see all the people behind me and I realize I'm not doing so bad! I power hike up and over and then shimmy down the other side and then I'm off. Within a mile and half, I'm back at home base heading out for the short loop with about 5 1/2 miles to go.

There's a group of 3 men (ok, 2 men and a kid) ahead of me. I hear one say he's going to catch the guy in the yellow tank and he kinda picks up the pace. He quickly puts land between himself and the other 2. (Side note: yellow tank guy is one of those 70-year-old studs that has been running for like a million years and has all the endurance in the world. I'm gonna be that guy one day. Or girl.) I'm feeling really good so I decide I'm going to try to go with red shirt guy after yellow tank guy. I drop the other two and pretty soon I've dropped yellow tank guy too. Red shirt guy stays with me. He says he's going to pace off me. He's never run more than 9 miles. He's using me for inspiration to keep going. Whatever, I think, as long as I'm leading.

Before I know it, I'm passing more people. People who always beat me. And then, to my great satisfaction, I fly by 17-year-old-what-if-I'm-winning kid with 3 miles to go. He's walking. I tell him to keep up the good work and zip down the trail. I'm loving this trail. Have I mentioned that yet? With a mile to go, I look at my watch. For the first time I realize how really good I've done and set one last goal for myself. I continue to fly by people and I can hear red-shirt guy on my heels. No way am I gonna let him pass me after he's tailed me for 4 miles. I lay down the hammer. It's an all out sprint to the finish. I won, of course. By one second. Enough for my satisfaction. I turn and offer him my hand in congratulations, a job well done.

I stick around an eat some hot chili and drink some gatorade. I'm enjoying the high of my performance. It's a rare treat in running when everything just comes together and it feels easy and wonderful. This is the second time I've had that happen on a trail (first one being the Pemberton 50k relay I was part of last year). Trails are brutal, punishing, real. But this one I conquered. In a 10-minute per mile pace. I look forward to taking my husband back to experience the San Tans. This weekend though, I am more confident than ever and looking forward to Pemberton. My first official ultramarathon....