Wasatch Back 2009

The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

The parts:

12 girls.
2 vans (OK, one van and one SUV).
188 miles.
30 hours and 43 minutes.
Gatorade.
Little sleep.
Lots of cheering.
Bagels and cold pizza.
Hills and valleys and cities and pastures.
Crazy Utah weather.

The whole:

Amazing.
Inspiring.
Hysterical.
Overwhelming.
Hot.
Cold.
Dry.
Wet.
Exhausting.
Painful.
Blissful.

Mostly blissful.




This was not really about running really fast or trying to get a PR (good thing, too, or I would be disappointed). This was about pushing ourselves further than we thought we could and learning a lot about ourselves and our teammates in the process.

I was so impressed with the women I ran with. Our van was supportive and happy and funny and kind and interesting. Malisa survived on 30 minutes of sleep, did almost all of the driving, and cheered on Marianne through her nearly 10 miles in the middle of the night when the rest of us had crashed. Marianne ran those 10 with a migraine, and kept a good attitude. Cody and Malisa had never run distances before. Cody had an amazing climb, which she did with a smile. Malisa nailed her climb at 1:30 am. Mindy didn't seem to mind hanging with a bunch of women over 30, and had the best deep, dark secret by far. And Christa was just an animal. AMAZING. Fast. And funny.

When we met Van 1 at our first exchange, it looked as if none of them had run a mile. They looked gorgeous and maybe just a little bit tired. Julie ran up a dusty nasty hill and her hair looked better than mine ever does. Katie has a nursing baby and fed her at various points on the trail, and still managed to conquer a crazy hill on Saturday. Marysa fought bronchitis through the whole race. Tricia was always smiling, and man, that girl has biceps. And Bliss and Liz...what can I say about these two? I can say this. They both ran more than 18 miles for their own legs, but then when we got to Guardsman Pass, they jumped in our van to help support us. Liz ran with Marianne up part of her leg, and then they each hopped out and ran part of the way with me to help pace me. I know I was a little bit wacky and was talking all crazy philosophical junk and they just let me ramble on and on. Strong, beautiful women with huge hearts. And Liz, my co-captain...what a woman. I am blessed to be her friend. She ran with Marianne and me, like I said, but also with Tricia and Mindy. That is some huge team spirit.

So it all boils down to this. I started up Ragnar (my last leg, the second half of Guardsman Pass. 1700 foot gain over 4 miles. Gorgeous but nasty.), realizing that I wasn't going to be able to run the whole thing, but recognizing that it was OK, that I had worked hard to get there, and that my best effort was going to be enough. I've struggled with some internal battles in the last year. I have this crazy perfectionist in my head that keeps trying to convince me that I'm not quite there yet, that my efforts are not quite enough. As I ran and hiked, climbing this mountain, my iPod started playing "Falling Slowly" by Glen Hansard. The rain was falling, my feet were moving through the mud, and the music said:

"You have struggled enough
And warred with yourself.
It's time that you won."

Some big ol' cosmic yes welled up inside. All of the planning, all of the worry, all of the early morning training...it was all for that one moment. Will I forget this lesson? Oh, yeah, probably by next week. But one day, maybe it will sink in.

And here are some more Wasatch Back pictures: