For the last few days I have been trying to process my experience on the Hardrock course. I was out for 35 hours and 34 minutes, but the experience was about three years in the making. Never before have I had such a long term goal that came to fruition. Now, I'm sure those with college degrees are laughing at this, but for a gen-x, no future kid from the nineties, having goals is a strange concept for me. Hardrock has come to represent what I want out of life, which is simplicity and a feeling of closeness to nature. There is a healthy dose of escapism in there too. Moving fast and light through the alpine is the best antidote for the button pushing, fossil fuel burning, instant gratification world I try to avoid as much as possible (without becoming a total hermit).
Sitting here now, five days after finishing, I'm still not sure what to make of it. It was everything I wanted, and then some. I hurt, but I wouldn't say I suffered. I enjoyed all the hardship and I never felt sorry for myself. I got the doubt, the beauty, the joy, and the pain. Most importantly I was humbled.
I ended up about three hours faster than I thought I could go. I received a lot of praise from friends and acquaintances for this. Normally my ego revels in the attention, but I'm finding it a bit uncomfortable. I did nothing for anyone else. It was a personal goal that I dedicated countless hours to. I don't regret a minute of it, but I don't feel particularly special. Big mountains have a way of doing that to a person. For perspective the winner ran over TEN HOURS faster than I did. Now that is impressive. Some took almost 13 hours longer, which is a sufferfest of the highest order. Kirk Apt finished his 18th Hardrock. That, to me, is even more impressive. I could go on and on about the amazing people I witnessed last week. These people make up an extended family that have changed who I am and what I believe. I will never be the same after Hardrock.
The strangest thing I encountered during Hardrock was the blankness. Normally I have so many thoughts and doubts bouncing around in my head. I dipped into this blank state during The Bear 100 last year for some pretty good chunks of time. For Hardrock I dipped into it for hours and hours. Not an unconscious kind of blankness, but just watching it all happen in front of me. Just pure experience without judgment or expectation. This was, by far, the longest I have ever experienced this state of mind, and I think this is what I am most proud of. Yeah, I still care how fast I go. More importantly though, racing seems to bring out a better version of me. Happier and more compassionate. I'd like to think this will carry over to life outside of ultras. Time will tell.
So what next? No grand plan has emerged from this. For the time being I'll continue spending as much time as possible in the mountains. I want to run Hardrock the other direction if I can get in next year. I could see it being a pilgrimage to make many times. The course is very special, and it might take a while to get sick of it!
The most important thing I can take away from this experience is how connected to other people we all are. Hardrock is special because it is some of the most beautiful terrain around. However, the people are what really make this event. My crew and pacers were amazing. The aid station folks were helpful, thoughtful and caring. The race director and all the volunteers put in a lot of hours to make sure everything is in place and running smooth. And the other runners... well, they blow me away. There is something about suffering with someone that creates a bond. I was never bummed out if someone passed me. Maybe I wished I could run faster, but I never wanted them to slow. We are all out there competing against ourselves, and all pushing each other to be our best. I could never complete this course anywhere near as fast on my own.
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| Leaving the first aid station. photo: Criss Furman |
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| Near Green Mountain about 89 miles in. photo: Criss Furman |
A big thank you to my parents for sharing this with me, and for teaching me to love the mountains.
Thank you to my all star pacers! Emily, who humored me by listening to my inane babbling. Marco, who pushed the pace without being pushy. Most importantly, thanks to MK, who knows what I need before I need it.
Same place, same time, next year? I hear it's harder in the counter-clockwise direction!
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