Moab Red Hot 33k

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- 

I took the one less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference. 

--Robert Frost

Moab, Utah
Source: Me

Without trying to turn this post into a mellow-dramatic emotionally-filled marshmallow of long rambling paragraphs, let me just sum the Moab Red Hot 33k trail race as one of those little things you do in life where you just happen to come out a different person than when you started.  Not always necessarily better or worse -  just different;  different perspective, a change of goals, a more fond awareness of just what you're doing just might actually be okay after all.   In picturesque Moab, somewhere amongst all that red sand, red dirt, great vertical walls, and vast slick rock sandstone, I smiled.  I was in love again - a love that has been buried under a heap of old pace times, slow MAF miles,  lost endurance.... to name a few things.  I've hated running for so long now and wondered if 'my time' was ever going to come back to me.  Somewhere around mile 10, I can whole heartedly say it did, and I came home eager, and excited, about my running future.

I stood on the start line of Moab a bit over two weeks ago.  Nervous  - yet excited.  Definitely uncertain of what lied ahead of me (y'all know I'm not much of a trail runner and I wasn't exactly race fit for this thing), and a little bit... empty.   Empty because four-ish days before the race the coach and I parted ways (parted ways?  That's such a super lame expression...but I'm going with it because that's what happened and I'm way too lazy to actually put a lot of thought into this post to come up with something more eloquently written.  Whatever);  I'm not going to get into the nitty gritty of why - there is no real reason why other than we just didn't mesh.   Though it was meant to be, it didn't mean it wasn't painful (queue the violins).   So when the gun went off at Moab, my one prevailing thought was: use the race to let the past go - literally and figuratively - and to enjoy the amazing day ahead of me.  And that was it.

En route to the race bright and early

I went to Utah with a couple women I work with, both of whom I don't really know that well - which always makes for an interesting trip.  Kerry (blue jacket) is an incredibly gifted trail runner and tons of fun; she also ran the race.  Kim (orange jacket) didn't race;  she came as a cheerleader, race start/finish chauffeur, and shoulder lender a time or 90 for me.  She's the warmest-hearted woman you'll ever, ever meet!

Are you drooling over the scenery yet?  If not, you will!

Somewhere along the course of Facebook connections through connections through connections, I met Doreen who was also running and we hooked up a couple times while there.  Awesomely accomplished woman who I instantaneously formed a special friendship with.

If you've never been to Moab, Utah, you truly must put it on your bucket list, if not to run, just to sit and admire its beauty.  I'm not a well-traveled girl but in all the places I've ever encountered, Moab's scenery is incredibly unique; it's a magical place where you come to find peace.  It is country filled with vast red rock sandstone, canyons carved from the Colorado River, and the La Sal Mountains, over 12,000', located to the SE as a backdrop.  The area is filled with technical and slick rock sandstone and has become the mountain bike capital of the country.  Within these demanding, yet drop-dead gorgeous trails, I stood on the start line of the Red Hot 33k about to enter a trail running world I knew so little about.

There is a colossal difference between trail and road running.  In the almost 19.5 miles I ran in Moab, I encountered so much diversity of terrain and scenery that my mind never had an opportunity to become mush, my vision was continuously rewarded, and every muscle constantly challenged.   I never had to think of strategy or my pace or where I was positioned - those things meant nothing here as I climbed sandstone outcrops, stood and wondered which way was the course, ran down gnarly broken rock, slugged through red sand up to my ankles - and then climbed (and climbed and climbed and climbed) to then do it all over again (and again and again).  I sit here and look at my Garmin data and I honestly cannot remember much about the data it's displaying, the only visions I can muster up are those of the incredible people I encountered along the way, and how every single step brought a different path than I was on just mere moments ago.  

First mile of the race was straight uphill, and the only section we
encountered slippery ice.

Red dirt trail found after the first icy mile

Red sandstone vertical cliffs became my backdrop early in the race

A posse of runners I hooked onto early on; they were having a
blast and I loved their company.  Until I dropped them at mile
4 and left them in the dust! :)

People - way in the top center - to give a scale of this section's
enormous openness 

Climbing up vasts amounts of slickrock sandstone...

....to come upon views like this!!

And then  back down....

Follow the pink and black stripped ribbons....if you can find them.
I spent several times stopped dead in my tracks, wondering
where to go next.  Which made it all the more - fun!

I have so many pictures and so many thoughts, I could spend hours upon hours posting them all.  I hope the pictures bring a small glimpse into this incredibly amazing race.  I was so absorbed in my surroundings and never thought much about the task at hand; I just did it.  I ran hard when I could and walked up the sheer vertical walls when I couldn't.  I latched on to various people throughout the course, so as not to get lost (and to have a little entertainment :)), and I dropped every single person at some point.  I wasn't breaking any speed records, but I felt fantastic.  When I came to the last aid station around mile 15, I set up my mind to run those last downhill miles as fast as my fatiguing body would allow me.  I was starting to get choked up at how incredibly good I felt and I was passing people like it was my job; it was hard to corral my emotions but I had to finish this job.

With about a mile to go (I actually didn't really know how much longer to go since I had run off-course many times and no idea where I was exactly), I saw Kerry just ahead of me so I kicked it in a bit to catch up to her.  I knew something wrong had to be going on with Kerry since she's so much faster than me (or I was having some magical super human powers :)); poor girl was having some IT and hip issues and struggling a little but we grabbed a quick picture... 

...and headed down the last stretch of rocky trail together, feeling stronger than ever, and chatting away about the race thus far.

We crossed the finish line together and heard our friend Kim cheering from the side.  3:56 and some change (and 25/72 in the 40-99 age group....yes, this is an age group in trail racing), which FAR exceeded any expectations I may have even slightly thought about prior.  

I was stunned, and kinda an emotional mess!  Kerry went to kiss me on the cheek, and tears were literally streaming (I'm a dork!).

I am truly blessed!

There's nothing more motivating for success than success itself.  The gains I have made with my running, albeit slow, are noticeable and reinforces my dedication to the sport I once loved so much ... and fell in love with again out there on Moab's trails.   I have new-found confidence and I am where I need to be right now.

It feels so good!

Official Race pic, I'm guessing around mile 9.  These two nice woman,
 whom I followed for about 5 miles,
I passed and never saw them again.

Smiling on the slickrock

It may not look it, but we climbed almost 3000'.

You can now put those violins back and don't worry about me and my once fragile emotions over the coach situation (I appreciate the songs while the lasted though); I am fine.   I have no regrets over what happened, I feel fantastic, I've lost all the excess weight I put on in my woe-is-me foot fiasco, and I have a brand new sparkly ultra coach and I can already tell we'll work together well.  As far as running goes, life is chugging along quite nicely, and you can't argue with that!

Run strong, my friends!