Thru Endurance We Conquer!

 With one step off the road, it was further then I had made it last year. That one step, onto the Gold Dust Trail to start the trek back to Poor Man's Gulch was the culmination of a year's worth of training, preparation and drive for redemption. That one step - that much closer to the finish line that had eluded me last year. I made that step to cheers from the volunteers and it was as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Last year, I never made that step off the road on to the Gold Dust Trail. I dropped at Tarryall III, not willing to take the chance of the long journey to Poor Man's when I wasn't even sure I would make it to Trout Creek. I've second guessed that decision a few times, but never regretted it. There is a difference between the two. I've spent last year knowing that I made the right choice, but still wondering deep down if I could have finished. I had 19 hours for 40 miles... I could (maybe...) have struggled to the finish line. I would ...

 Okay - running a technical 10 mile trail the weekend after a 100 mile race isn’t the smartest idea. But when the running club is having another low key race on some trails you haven’t seen before, it starts to sound like a decent idea. Add in the chance to mountain bike another new to me trail and it’s an even better idea. After all, no one said that I had to run fast. The mountain biking wasn’t the first idea - Nick and I were gonna ride easy at Lunch Loops before heading up to the Mesa. But when we got up Saturday morning, it was hot and sticky and neither of us felt like dealing with the heat. So we loaded up some extra food, cycling clothes and the bikes then headed up the hill. We figured that Mesa Top trail would be easy enough for me to ride given how tired my legs were and it would be a chill out and back. We’d tried riding up there back in 2019, but the bugs were crazy. I was worried about that again, but hey - bug repellent works well and everyone had assured us they wer...

The trail is lonely at night - but off in the distance a string of lights glows. The lights guide you into one of the many aid stations - an oasis in the night, a reprieve from the solitude of the empty woods. And while this reflects one particular aid station, at the end of a cold and damp stretch of trail the feeling of welcomeness and care at all the aid stations cannot be beat. From the moment you come into view of the volunteers to the moment you head back into the the woods, you - the runner - are all that matters.  There were seven aid stations at the Silverheels 100 and we hit all but one multiple times. A few had different crews each time I went through, one I never stepped under the tent and one had the same gang there all four times I ran/hiked by. Without the amazing volunteers at all of the aid stations, I would not have finished. Any ultra runner who does not acknowledge that it is the volunteers that make the race is not paying attention. And that's what makes the cu...