My Scariest Race
I have been racing for years, and I can attach emotions and stories to many of them, but one stands out as the scariest.
I enjoy running in any form, but my favorite races are ultramarathons. I have always done better with distance running when endurance was more important than speed. It is also the race that has taught me the most about my body and the limits where I can take it. Even though I love ultras I always feel like a fraud, as if I don’t compare with the other ultrarunners because they are a pretty tough group of people. At each race I go to I’m sure the ultramarathoners will discover I am an imposter.
I had heard about the Yeti races from several friends. They said they were amazing experiences, and they were also tough. I signed up for my first Yeti and was typically nervous about what to expect. I had no idea that I was about to experience so much.
The morning of the race, we heard the meteorologist say there might be storms. My first mistake was not to have brought rain gear. The race information said space was limited for canopies, so I asked my husband if we could be at the park as soon as it opened. He told me he wanted to have breakfast first and he was sure we would be fine. This was also the moment he chose to tell me he forgot the top of the canopy. Mistake number two and three were waiting to set up because there wasn’t any more room, and it began to rain very hard, so a canopy would have been nice. We found a corner to put a small tent that later flooded.
The race started and off we went in the rain and the dark. The course was tough but beautiful. A group of us had walked up a steep hill and at the top there was a lake. Suddenly one of the men fell. He stood up and then one of the women fell. Another woman said, “Can we all agree that this lake is cursed?” Have you ever been in a spot where the energy felt negative? Let’s just say I was happy to leave that lake behind. I finished the four-mile loop told my husband about the course, and then headed back out. I had no idea that a thunder and lightning storm was about to hit.
A mile into the loop, the storm hit. There was very heavy rain, thunder, and lightning. I was by myself, but I could see two women ahead of me, so I ran to catch up to them. I asked them if they minded if I stayed with them for a while. My new friends Eva and Marie were as nervous as I was about the storm. I was going against all the storm rules my mom taught me when I was younger. I could hear her saying, “Don’t be in water, don’t be up high, or around trees.” I was in a lot of water, in the woods, walking up to a ridgeline. None of this added up to a good time.
Marie said, “As long as you can hear the birds, we are okay.” I’m not kidding you that 3 seconds after she said that it went dead quiet. I said, “Marie, I don’t hear the birds.” She said, “I know. We’re screwed.”
I have never been on a run before and I feared for my life. Lightning struck once not far from me, and I jumped off the trail. I kept thinking I didn’t want the headlines to say, “She died doing what she loved.”
We weren’t the only ones running out there. Every once in a while, someone would come running by because why would you let possibly being struck by lightning keep you from your mileage goal?
When I made it to the staging area I was soaked. I asked my husband if he knew when the storm would stop, and he said it was going to be off and on all day. I was still healing from a torn meniscus, so the slick conditions also were worrying me.
A friend of mine was there, and I said, “I think I’m going to stop.” He knew about my knee, and he said, “What if you slipped on those hills and hurt yourself again?” That helped me a little, but as we were leaving, my husband turned around just as my face was crumpling and the tears were about to come because I don’t like to quit. He said, “There is a difference between being a badass and a dumbass. You need to be able to run another day instead of being hurt.”
It bothered me to stop, but I will be back this year to try again. I will also be praying for no storms.
