A week ago, I ran in the 216-mile Cascade Lake Relay race on a team of 12 runners.
I think this was my 15th race and 8th relay race. I knew what I was getting into. So, I thought.
I knew this race was harder than most I’d done before:
- higher elevation,
- longer legs,
- hotter temperatures
- and compromised air quality due to wildfire season.
I was excited for the challenge and to cross it off my bucket list.
Once I signed up, I set up a training schedule and determined my goal: to complete the race.
And then I got injured.
Except I didn’t have months of lead time like I did for the Seattle half-marathon that I recently wrote about in my blog.
I only had eight weeks until race day to heal and be ready.
Was I being stubborn? Was I too determined? Was I stuck on a goal?
One of my friends has joked about me: “Where there’s a Will-iams, there’s a way!”
I refined my training schedule with my Physical Therapy team and focused harder on my goal: to complete the race.
But, completing the race did not mean at any cost. Success looked like running easefully, causing no harm or new injury, and recovering quickly.
When I ran the Seattle Marathon in 2008, I was nervous as hell to do it and hell bent on finishing it. I did. It was hard and it hurt a lot.
Read the story about this race in my latest blog post: When 2,364th Place is Winning.
I have learned so much since then.
This time, I increased my pace time to 12-minutes-per-mile so that I could run intervals: 4 minutes running, 1 minute walking.
A week before the race, my physical therapist gave the thumbs up on my knee.
But, it wasn’t until the day before that I knew I could successfully complete the race: temps were down, winds shifted the smoke and I knew my body could safely do it.
During my second of three legs around 4 a.m. that Saturday I was running 5.6 miles through a forested, back country road in La Pine, Oregon.
It was a brisk 35 degrees out as I inhaled the fresh pines and spotted constellations in the vast night sky as one after another runners passed by.
“Good job, keep it up,” they said.
“Thanks! Did you see that shooting star?,” I excitedly asked one who was racing by.
No response.
Well, I did.
I was following my friend’s advice from that first half-marathon: “Have fun and enjoy the moment.”
This was my favorite leg that I’ve ever run.
Besides taking in the scenery for those 67 minutes, I kept my body and mind solely focused on the task at hand: I breathed deeply and simply kicked one foot after another.
My focus was having energy to spare all the way through to my finish line.
A few stray thoughts did cross my otherwise clear-as-the-night-sky mind:
- Since 2008, I have learned how to be more satisfied making decisions and moving on than making the perfect decision. And I am happier.
- I am finally learning how to pace my energy and find balance, instead of doing “all or nothing.” This is being a completer.
- I have come a long way—in every way. This feels like winning.
Where there’s a will, indeed.
May you find ease this week in honoring your heart’s needs and commitments.
Love,
Jules