Pulling Weeds

This past weekend was bittersweet.  Over the past few years, I have become less focused on ultra-running.  The only exception is when I trained for Ozark 100 when I went into the race in the absolute best shape of my life. Unfortunately, I experienced clouded vision after sunset, had to succumb to walking, and struggled to maintain a 3mph pace.  It was frustrating and, after several months of processing my thoughts, having a pacer to run directly in front of me for those remaining miles would have been ideal and extremely helpful.  But, I have a mindset of self-reliance in races which conflicts with what would have been an obvious solution.  And, although, there is definitely “unfinished business” on those trails driven mostly by ego, my heart tells me it may be time to let it go…

And, before this past weekend, I had a few talks with Olga about how this race may very well be my last ultra-distance event, although, barely, at 50k.  It wasn’t a race I trained for specifically, but, rather to be a methodical stepping stone as I worked my way up to a goal race in late April.  But, I recently decided against the April race simply because I would rather do something more personally meaningful—enjoying a long weekend with my wife on a non-running related vacation.  You see, when I first began running ultras, it seemed like a cool thing to do and was fun to watch the expressions on peoples’ faces when they realized just how many miles were involved.  And, I enjoyed that attention for many years.  But, during the last few years, I try to avoid those conversations.  Even this weekend during the race, I caught up to one of the lead 25k runners in the middle of my first loop and had a brief chat.  He asked what distance I was running and I told him—“50k”.  His response was, “have you run that distance before?”.   I paused and quietly responded with hesitance, “yeah.”.   And, then, I continued on my way.  A few years ago, I would have divulged all kinds of data and enumerated every distance category I’ve completed.  But, now, it doesn’t seem necessary or important.

When I crossed the finish line on Saturday, I had given my best and that’s what I told Olga—“that’s all I had…”.  Those moments when I just wanted to walk or slow down, I kept telling myself “you have to give an honest effort because this just might be your last ultra”.  I was more interested in talking to my son and having him tell me how well his first trail 10k had gone, talking to John Sharp and him sharing the colorful details of his race, and giving my wife a kiss.  That’s what was important.  And, this is exactly where I want to be right now.

I don’t want to wake up at 5am on almost every weekend to run 20 to 30 miles.  I’d rather be in my yard on my hands and knees in the flower beds pulling weeds for a few hours, which is exactly what I did on Sunday morning.  And, as strange as it sounds, it was meditative, similar to how running can be at times.  I will still run and enjoy the training process and ensuing race, but, most likely, just a lot smaller dose of the running part.  Otherwise, I wouldn’t get to enjoy those quiet mornings listening to the birds sing while I’m pulling weeds.