The Chronicles of Alex

It’s not that I thought 50 miles would fix me, but it did change my life in a weird and wonderful way. I mean there’s no way to not be changed by a 50-mile race – between the lost toenails, blisters, and hours alone putting one sore foot in front of the other sore foot over and over and over. I reflect on the experience I had in the Flint Hills of Kansas a lot, which is kind of weird for me. I can’t run like I used to and am getting back into the swing of training again, and I think that is probably why I think about it a lot. It’s very bittersweet. I think I am trying to figure out how to translate the language and lessons of running to my everyday life; I thought it would be easier than it has been. 

Running was an integral part of my life that gave me community and some of my best friends, showed me grit and resilience, allowed me space and peace, gave my mind a rest, and reminded me that molds were meant to be broken. 

What I reflect on and what this experience introduced me to…

1. I really love hamburgers. I had the best hamburger of my life at The Burger Stand in Topeka, Kansas – confirmed by my father who had not just run 50 miles. A burger with brisket on it?! Don’t get me started on the truffle fries… 
2. Podcasts are a way to bond; they spark thoughts and moderate conversation. My dad and I listened to the Trail Runner Nation series dissecting Steve Magness’s book: Do Hard Things and NPR’s How I Built This with Guy Raz. We still talk about the podcasts we listened to on that trip. We send pictures of La Columb coffee shops when traveling, talk about Raising Cane’s chicken tenders more often than the average people, and gift Steve Magness’s books like he’s going out of style. 
3. Race day jitters never go away. I wasn’t performing for a score, so I thought maybe it was going to be different. It was the same nervous feeling and race day poops I’d gotten toeing the line many times before, but this was for different reasons. I had trained for months and driven 12 hours for this race – what if I didn’t finish? I knew I was capable of completing the race just needing to stick to the game plan, but there is still a probability of failure. There is fear of the unknown as this was a BIG first for me. 
4. The body can withstand so much, but your mind has to be on your side. Self-talk is HUGE. I love listening to music while I run, but, sometimes, I have to turn it off and go elsewhere. Honestly, when things were hard and my body hurt, I prayed or talked to friends who were gone (which is a form of prayer for me). I found strength knowing I’m not alone with my finite pain.
5. Sometimes, you have to turn the sad country music off. I listen to music while doing everything, and running was no different. I usually wouldn’t wear headphones while running for safety purposes, so I always wore my trusty FlipBelt and graced everyone with the music or podcast of the day. Another reason I wouldn’t wear headphones was to hear my breath. Being in touch with my breathing while running made me a better runner on a few accounts. I was able to control it better if I focused on it, which allowed me to empty my mind almost completely. 
6. Running alone is religious. Running with others is secular. One allows you to clear your mind and focus inwardly, while the other focuses on community and build some of the strongest bonds I’ve ever experienced. You are in touch with others rather than yourself and your body. 

Now, you’re wondering… why is she rambling on about this and where is it going? Well, I like to ramble, and I’m getting there. 

Without running, I’ve been lost and searching. I have no outlet, no way to boost happy hormones or relieve stress. Until recently, I thought running was just running. It’s not just running. It is so much more. The grit and resilience it taught me were larger than pushing through physical pain and mental qualms during races. The determination to get better is bigger than just breaking a PR. The discipline to show up to practice every day, hit my lifts, do PT, or spend extra time caring for my body translate to much more than just being okay at running. All of these things help me excel professionally and personally, I just couldn’t see it while competitively running and grieving the loss of running. 

I will take everything running taught me – including making a mean burger or warm sandwich, an ever growing love for chocolate milk, and numerous podcast recommendations – and translate it into the language of everyday life rather than sport. I can build friendships or talk to people just like I did on the trails or during races. I miss chatting it up during races with my high school team; apparently, we could run faster if we didn’t talk during races, but that wasn’t why we were there. We were there for each other, where running was just the extra thing. Pressure and anxiety is normal as long as you don’t let it run your life; these two things are signals that you are rising to an occasion you prepared for. 

Running taught me patience, grit, and joy. It allowed me to feel less and more fully at the same time, and I am beginning to translate that into a different language through finding new hobbies (boxing and blogging), talking to new people with curiosity, failing at making an edible outcome to a baking or cooking endeavor and trying again, and by realizing that life is just an ultra-marathon with burgers along the way and moments you have to shut off the music. 

Congrats on your first ultra, blog readers!! You’re doing great 🙂