Six miles to go.
I would not back down. Each name secured in my vest would get the victory. I would finish.
I sipped from my flask washing down what remained of the salt potatoes. A police officer stood on the opposite side of the road blocking traffic. I gave him a wave and a thank you.
How blessed to have him looking out for us as we made our way to Williamsport. I smiled. Almost there. Look how far I’ve come!
Right arm, left arm matched the silent cadence in my mind—Be brave and believe. Be brave and believe.
At mile forty-five, my legs flowed. How could this be?
I'd imagined worst-case scenarios: a sprained ankle, vomiting, uncontrollable diarrhea, or being stranded at an aid station. Grateful now, none of these fears had materialized.
I was surprised by my strength and confidence. My mind was calm and encouraging, with no room for fear. The mental training leading up to this race shone through with five miles to go.
One of several key mental training strategies was the "If-then" technique from Addie Bracy's book, Mental Training for Ultrarunning.
I planned for potential challenges and wrote them down.
If I can’t find my crew, I will carry hydration powder in my vest as a backup.
If my stomach is upset or nauseous, I will carry chewable Pepto Bismol tablets to ease the symptoms.
Another strategy focused on negative self-talk and the stories I told myself when I was tired or in pain. I took the time to write each one out. I noticed. I challenged them. I became self-aware of the sentences that didn’t serve me.
You know the ones...I can’t do this, I didn’t prepare enough, my stomach is off, or my legs feel heavy and slow.
When race day came I would choose to listen to the right voice.
It feels hard because it is hard. This is racing and it’s a good thing. I completed over 95% of the training my coach prescribed. I’m ready. I get to do this. Be brave and believe.
The growing sound of voices and cheers told me another aid station was nearby. I smiled as I spotted the tables and volunteers up ahead.
What did I grab to eat? I don’t remember.
I remember what I asked, “Is this the last aid station before the finish.”
"Yes, this is it, then the finish. You're almost there!" a volunteer called out.
I grinned, “Thank you.”
My spirit lifted. Thank you, Lord.
The sign marked 47 miles now in my rearview. Three more miles to go— a 5K— I can do this.
As I pounded out those final three miles, I pictured Delaney, Brindsley, and Jeff huddled around our TV at home, watching the Mountain Outpost Livestream. I could almost hear their cheers through the screen— Go! Mama Moose, Go! The thought of running strong for them pushed me toward the finish, even if their hugs would have to wait until I made it home.
*****
I had no idea where I stood for time. My eyes stayed up rather than on my watch. I anticipated the finish line. A few runners were within reach.
A man stood on the left side of the road. He shouted out to us, “The finish line is just ahead. You’ll see it once you get up this hill.”
Sure enough, as I made my way to the crest of the short incline, I saw the finish—an enormous red inflatable arch in the distance. It had to be at least a mile and a half away. Adrenaline shot through me as my legs took over.
We had a spectacular downhill finish. I was grateful. I focused on the goal and ran as fast as I could.
My arms pumped, my legs soared. My eyes narrowed in on the red arch. Is this the finish? Is it really there? My wild mind questioned my eyes.
The cheers and shouts grew louder. I passed two more runners. I wouldn’t save anything. I gave it all I had. My family was watching.
Ten feet before the finish, I raised my right arm and fist-pumped in celebration.
We did it! We finished 50.2 miles.
TBC… (to be continued)
Join us at the exciting new Winter Writer's Camp! We've found the perfect home at Kairos Cafe in Syracuse, NY, where our private space creates a welcoming atmosphere for creativity and connection.
Our first session sparked inspiration as we crafted winter-themed haikus together. We'd love for you to become part of our in-person community where movement and writing meet.
Come be part of our growing creative circle! No writing experience is necessary. Simply click below or reply for all the details about our in-person gatherings.
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Join us every Monday on Zoom to start or restart your writing practice. We meet at 11 am (EST) and write in communal silence. I’ll sprinkle in some movement halfway through. :)
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