Looking through a keyhole...

I’m not going to write up a detailed recap of my experience in the San Juans. Instead, I’ll let Olga share her personal accounts of what occurred during the 46 hours she was on the trail. I know her perspective as a runner and what I experienced as a pacer are, most likely, not the same. Within 7 hours of leaving Austin, I found myself making the final push to a 12,920ft pass (Grant-Swamp) in blustery winds and hail with a smile so wide that my face hurt. The reward at the top were the incredible views stretching in every direction to the horizon. There were moments a few days before the race where I would become nauseous. On Friday morning, before the 6am start, I realized I had never been so nervous before a race and really had to really fight the urge to puke. And, I wasn’t even running the race! I suppose, the immensity of what I was about to witness and experience were overwhelming. If anything were ever more true about Hardrock, it is the fact you must experience it firsthand to truly understand the task at hand. I only got a slight taste, as a pacer. There were moments for me which seemed surreal. For any fit hiker, completing just one of the climbs and descents in the span of a day would be considered an accomplishment. Imagine doing that 12 more times going above 12,000ft (14,000 ft once) and it seems incomprehensible. Imagine getting to the top of a pass and seeing your next challenge across the valley. With a final pitch so steep, it looks like a vertical wall. Knowing your runner gave everything they had just to make it to the pass where you now stand. And, wishing you could take all that pain and fear away and carry it for them all the way to the finish. Finishing off an 5,500ft ascent knowing the next one is 4,500ft and is much tougher than the last because it is, on average, steeper and requires much more cross country travel. Discovering the long descents offer no solace, because the footing is treacherous almost the entire way down. Wondering if being out there with your runner is helping or hindering their effort and fumbling for the right words to keep them going when they’re in the depths of pain and overwhelming emotion. All the while, trying to balance your love and deep care of the person with their pre race day desire to kiss the rock.

I caught only a slight glimpse of what the runners experienced this past weekend. And, somehow, I find myself feeling as if I have passed through some invisible portal into a new found discovery regarding the phsycial and emotional capabilties of the human spirit. And, although, I am naïve enough to believe I have an idea of what Hardrock is all about, I’m certain the only way to truly understand it is to cover the 100+ miles myself.