In August of this year, I signed up to run a new 100-mile race in Texas. To be specific, I signed up for the race the night before the race. On a whim. Like a crazy person. I think stress from full-time work and full-time school drove me to this extreme, where I started thinking how lovely it would be if I had a full-day break from worrying about work and deadlines. As a friend would comment later, “You were literally running away from your problems!”
Maybe I could do that? But people who do that are crazy…and dumb. Maybe I want to be crazy and dumb. But those people are strong and determined. Maybe I want to be strong and determined. No, I could never do that…seems crazy….but maybe.
I’m sitting here, guiltily sipping chamomile tea from a beautiful ceramic mug that I paid for, yet did not earn.
It’s an SOB 50M finisher’s mug. The award given out to the supremely rugged savages who spent a perfectly good Saturday hauling ass through 50 miles of Southern Oregon’s mountainous trails.
Unique beauty, amazing wildlife and profound solitude – all the elements of true adventure – rewarded racers willing to brave the strenuous 2015 Desert RATS Kokopelli 150 journey. Having completed the 11th annual 6-day stage race, racers experienced why we are the longest running stage race in North America.
Mile 56, the last aid station. It was roughly 10:30 at night. Not sure because I was exhausted. I was asked what I needed. I just told them to top off my water bottles. Both bottles were yanked from my vest. Next thing I knew I had a cup of electrolyte in one hand and a cup of chicken noodle soup in the other.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the greatest night of his life, either.
Delirious and disoriented, he couldn’t keep food down and was going the wrong way—away from the next aid station, away from the finish line.