I wrote this originally in March of 2020 for the Vermont 100 Mile Endurance Run blog. However, like so many events, the race was canceled due to COVID, and the blog was never published. Thus, I'm posting it here.
It was mid-morning in July 2013, and I was grinding up one of the final hills. To say I was moving slowly is beyond generous. I was staggering, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. I bent down, hands on my knees and started falling asleep. My right ankle was swollen, and pain shot up in my leg every time I put weight on it. I was certain it was sprained. I begged my pacer to let me take a ten minute nap on the side of the road. I was too close to the cutoff, but she reluctantly relented to a five minute dirt nap. It didn't help. The minutes passed as I staggered forward. I was only two miles to the next aid station, but at that point in the race in my mental state, the idea of two miles at that pace was insurmountable. Eventually, the cutoff time passed. I found myself sitting on the side of the road, my pacer beside me, waiting for the van to bring me back to the finish. My first attempt at a 100 mile race ended at mile 93 of the Vermont 100. Many an ultrarunner has been there. The distance becomes too tough for the mind. The result is a DNF (did not finish). That sprained ankle? Just inflammation. My feet weren't used to the pounding over so many miles. It was over a week before my feet would fit into my shoes again. Yet that experience changed me. I found I become more willing to put myself out there and take risks. I started online dating. I took more initiative at work. And I signed up for many more races. I returned to the Vermont 100 in 2015 and was able to cross that finish line. Since that first 100 miler, I've run thirteen hundreds all across the country. I saw finish lines in some and DNFs in others. But since that first attempt, the Vermont 100 has held a special place in my heart. In November 2019, I embarked on a new kind of ultramarathon: the ultramarathon of parenthood. I found ultrarunning prepared me surprisingly well for pregnancy. The nauseousness, weird cravings, and extreme fatigue were nothing I hadn't experienced in a race. It was just drawn out over the first trimester rather than 30 hours. But as my belly grew, my running slowed. And with the birth of my daughter, my identity was fully as a new mom. My professional life and running life ceded to the background during my maternity leave as I focused solely on providing for and keeping this new member of our family alive. But at heart I know I am still an ultrarunner. It remains such a core part of how I identify. Like so many of us in this sport, running long distances out in the woods fulfills me physically, mentally, and spiritually. I am a better mother, wife, friend, and colleague when I get those runs in. To reclaim that identity and part of my life, I wanted to sign up for a race even before I was cleared to start exercising again. And I knew that race had to be the Vermont 100. I've started training again, and I am so unbelievably excited to return to the Vermont course. I'll be joined by a top-notch crew, which this time will include my husband, in-laws, and an eight-month-old. I cannot wait to introduce to this amazing world and community of ultrarunning. The 2020 and 2021 Vermont 100 were canceled due to COVID, but I'm looking forward to running the race in 2023.
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Amelia is a rather slow ultramarathon runner. She loves sharing her training journeys and running adventures. ArchivesCategories |