Leona Divide Video Blog!
Here it is! Leona Divide 50 Miler Video Blog!
Enjoy~
And in case you missed it, here’s my personal race report -
The past 2 weeks have helped me to explore where it is that I have come from and what I am made of. There is nothing I can’t do, which is empowering and terrifying. All things to come or the things that won’t, all rely on my will to succeed.
Oh, and I definitely have the will, by the way.
I flew to Colorado for an unexpected trip 2 weeks ago which I won’t go into detail about. I will say that it was a trip full of love and challenge. My Mom is the most amazing woman I know and I find a lot of comfort knowing that I’m cut from the same cloth.
I got back from Colorado 7 pounds lighter (literally) than before I left. Not that I have anything to loose, especially right before a 50 mile ultramarathon. I called Coach Jimmy the day after I got back in town, and just 3 days before the race, looking for an out. I wanted someone to tell me that it was okay if I didn’t show up to the starting line, that I could sit this one out and no one would think any less of me. Of course he didn’t tell me this, why would he? He just advised that I sleep and eat and, once again, show up.
And so, similarly to arriving at San Diego 100 feeling unsure about my will to run, I showed up at Leona knowing that getting there was half the battle. Well… maybe it was 1/4 of the battle because running 50 miles, no matter how you slice it, is a long way to run. All I kept thinking was how I’ve done longer and harder races than this so OF COURSE I possess the ability to do this, but still, 50 miles will always feel like at least 50 miles.
However, I forgot this temporarily. I was out and running blissfully in the mountains, getting peace of mind, and overall having a lot of time to think and de-frag, but since 50 miles is a long distance to run, I found myself completely drained and ready to be finished at 30 miles in. I came to peace with this quickly. I told myself how proud of myself I was that I had showed up and ran 30 miles like it was no big deal, in spite of not properly training in the midst of recording this record. I told myself that I was okay with my first DNF. I didn’t even have an emotional response to this the way I did when I thought I wouldn’t finish San Diego 100, which is how I knew I was ready to drop. I didn’t want to drop when I was emotional and irrational. I was okay with the decision to pull myself from the race and I would be proud of my effort.
However, by the time I made it to the next aid station I had completely turned around. The moment I took any pressure I had off of myself to perform, the miles seemed to melt away into an effortless (but not reaaalllly effortless) glide to the finish. I have never been so proud of myself than I was when I finished Leona Divide. I didn’t think I would show up, then I didn’t expect to finish, then I didn’t expect to finish with much time before the cutoff, but I managed to squeeze in sub 12 hours which completely blew my expectations of myself that day out of the water. Good for me, Katelyn. Good for me.
The race felt like a purge. I haven’t had the time to train the way I did last year and I’m okay with that. I signed up for Leona just wanting a day on the trails, because I really do LOVE this sport, and that’s exactly what I got. It felt good to run through the emotions of the week leading up to the race. This was a significant race also because it was the last day I would be living in my friend Daniel’s living room. The next morning I moved into an apartment of my own. I have been waking up naturally at 6:30am since then, I think because I didn’t realize what poor quality of sleep I had been getting for the last year. I’ve loved living with Daniel and Garrett and Ciaran and Berns, etc., but I don’t think I realized what I needed until I got it.
This weekend I have a show at Genghis Cohen here in LA. I’m excited to get up and perform for all of my friends, especially my running friends, and show them what I’ve been up to while I’ve been off the trails. I’m a little frustrated with how long things have been really hard, but I’m confident that I will come out on top. Besides, it’s the mile 30 when you feel-like-quitting-but-you-don’t that makes you who you are. What happens when you hit your wall? I think it’s interesting that I remember mile 30 more vividly than the finish.
Max and I were together the other day eating Subway breakfast sandwiches. He was rushing through his and I tried to slow him down by saying “Slow down! Do you really want to finish life first?”
