DO IT FOR HER
These words echoed in my mind as I stood at the starting line of my second ultramarathon. They weren’t just about completing a race; they were about the little girl I once was, the one who never thought she could climb mountains or run epic distances. Now, here I was, preparing to test my limits once again. My “why” – the reason I keep coming back to the mountains and these long races – was simple: I do it for her.
Before we dive into the adrenaline and struggle of the ultramarathon, let me take you back to a moment that defined what adventure means to me. In September 2023, I stood on Mt. Fuji, surrounded by a landscape that felt more like another planet than anywhere on Earth. The towering volcanic peak, the swirling clouds, the seemingly endless expanse of the sky – it was overwhelming. At that moment, I realized something: adventure isn’t just about scaling heights or running impossible distances. It’s about pushing yourself beyond what you think is possible, not for anyone else but for that part of you that never believed you could
Fast forward to July 27th, 2024, at the starting line of the White River Ultramarathon at Crystal Mountain.
The air was electric, buzzing with the excitement of hundreds of runners. People were chatting, nervously stretching, and gearing up for the long, grueling day ahead. I was ready. Four months of training had led to this moment – miles on the road, uphill hikes, and mental battles with myself. But despite the preparation, as I looked around, doubt still crept in. I wasn’t here to be the fastest; I just didn’t want to finish dead last again.
I TOOK THIS PICTURE DURING THE RACE
The race began. The first few miles were manageable, but the climb—oh, the climb—was where the real test began.
Every step felt heavier as the ascent stretched out in front of me. One by one, runners passed me, their strides strong and confident. I couldn’t help but feel the weight of my own pace, slow and steady but never quite fast enough. The frustration crept in. Why couldn’t I go faster? Why was everyone else moving so easily?
I hit a low when I realized I might not make the second cutoff. That realization was crushing. My body was screaming, and mentally, I was starting to check out. I began to believe I didn’t belong here—that maybe I wasn’t cut out for this kind of race. But just when I was ready to surrender to that voice of doubt, something shifted – a reminder of why I was here.
And with every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed forward. The moment I made the cut-off, everything changed. I had done it. I was still in the race. And for the first time in hours, I felt powerful again. That moment taught me something vital: stop trying to take yourself out of the race before it’s over. You are stronger than you think.
That’s the moment captured in this picture—the moment where I realized I wasn’t just running a race.
I was proving something to myself. I wasn’t going to give up, no matter how hard it got.
From that point on, the race was a mixture of exhaustion and determination. My vest was filled with water and electrolytes, carefully planned out with a nutritionist before the race. I knew what my body needed, but even with all the preparation, the fatigue still hit hard. I found myself relying on sheer willpower and a few gummy worms to keep moving. At one point, one of the sweepers caught up with me—the people responsible for taking down the course after the last runners. We talked for a while, and she shared her own story of not finishing the same race last year. Her honesty was comforting. It reminded me that everyone struggles, but we keep showing up.
When I finally neared the finish line, I was exhausted, yet somehow still buzzing with energy. My mind was a jumble of thoughts, mostly complaining about how the course ended up being 34 miles instead of 32. But as I crossed that line, the fatigue melted away, replaced by sheer exhilaration. I wasn’t just relieved that it was over – I was proud. My boyfriend was waiting for me, and there was pizza. What more could I ask for?
In the end, the ultramarathon wasn’t just a test of physical endurance. It was a reminder that perseverance, consistency, and believing in yourself – even when it’s hard – will carry you through the toughest moments. I didn’t come in first – in fact, I was dead last in my race. Though, there was a 50-mile race happening at the same time, so I was able to see runners from that race cross the finish line, too. And most importantly, I learned something valuable that day: you don’t have to be perfect; you just have to keep going.
Every step counts, and every challenge makes you stronger for the next adventure.
As I reflect on that race, I feel more confident in every aspect of my life. The lessons I’ve learned on the trail, in the mountains, and during races have shaped who I am. They’ve given me the courage to pursue my dream of working in nature conservation and the resilience to be a better friend, partner, and dog mom.
Would I do another ultramarathon?
ABSOLUTELY!
There’s something about these experiences that calls me back every time. Maybe it’s the challenge, or maybe it’s the little girl inside me who now knows she can do anything. Either way, I’m in it for the long run.
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