Antelope Island was beautiful as ever. I love the rugged landscape. The full moon reflecting off the water of the Great Salt Lake was something to behold. It was so bright in fact that I started with out a head lamp and ran for over an hour in the dark. There is something to be said about a good night run. I had the opportunity to run with Jennylin Eaton as well as a man named Dimitry. Jennylin went on to crush the women's record at 10:06 and taking 4th overall. Amazing.
So what went wrong? I had fought through an IT band issue on the last climb coming up over the ridge to the east side. What I could start to feel then was my cold that I had been hoping was gone was manifesting itself into my chest. By the time I hit Garr Ranch both nostrils were in full gush mode. My arm warmers were soaked with snot and I had resorted to solely breathing out of my mouth and could feel a growing labor to my breathing.
By the time I hit 9 mile gate I realized that this wasn't the normal snot patrol that I deal with when I run, it was different. I felt like I just couldn't breathe. After the awesome volunteers helped me on my way I buckled down for the rest of the trip. Occasionally stopping to rest with my hands on my knees as if I had just finished a climb. I was getting pissed (for lack of a better word).
Fast forward to the end of the first loop. I think that I knew that it was over by the time I reached the starting line. I just reshuffled my things into a pack and took off as fast as I could to start the second loop. It quickly became apparent that that no mater how much I wanted to push myself to finish it just wasn't going to happen. I walked the entire first hill to the top where I could see White Rock Bay and the Elephant Head Aide station 5 miles away on the far side of the valley. It was the first time I though I should turn back and DNF. I told myself that if I could make it to Elephant Head that I would know what I should do.
I reached the first section of downhill heading down into White Rock Bay knowing what I should do but unable to force myself to do it. At one point I actually turned around and started walking back to the start for about 10 feet and then got mad at myself and turned back around. It was at that point I told myself that I needed to prove what I thought I needed to do. So I took off running the downhill to the ridge line. I didn't stop no matter how bad my lungs were feeling. It felt like a brick was on my chest. Like I was trying to breathe through a wet towel. I reached the last section of downhill and doubled over to my knees. I still couldn't bring myself to admit it. I just didn't want to do it. I reached the dirt road at the bottom of the valley and sat on the bench just looking at the beauty around me. Even then I still had the fight in me. I got up and started up the hill to Elephant Head.
My lungs were screaming but my legs were fine. I kept telling myself that it was all in my head. That if my legs were still feeling fine then I should continue the race. I crested the ridge and walked to the aide station. I stood there for what seemed like an eternity. I knew what I needed to do but still couldn't bring myself to do it. After about 15 min I notified the volunteers and turned around for my 5.5 mile hike back to the start.
It was a bit emotional at first. Having trained all summer to prepare myself for this last race of the year. But I felt a peace that I couldn't explain. I had proved to myself that it wasn't just a selfish desire but rather a need. Most people that know me, know that I would rather drag my bruised and broken body across the finish line than quit. It was a long walk back but I was happy. Jim even gave me a 50k finishers mug which I though was nice but I didn't feel I deserved it. I wanted that dang 100k!
So for now I have my last race bib of the season to stare me in the face and light a fire underneath me to help me reach my goals for next year. Oh and it will be a great year for sure!
