At the end of my racing season in November I felt exactly like I look in the picture to the left, exhausted, depleted, and ready for a break. I've had off-seasons in the past during which I've felt bored or restless, eager to dive back into training and work toward the next big goal. But for the second half of November, all of December, and the first few days of January, I have felt really grateful to have nothing immediately pressing on the calendar. I haven't stopped training entirely, of course. My focus has just shifted from running to strength training and skiing and learning new skills like ice climbing. I've also allowed myself to just run as much or as little as I want, averaging around 60 miles a week and feeling mentally and physically easy going whilst doing so. It has been a really nice reset for my entire being, for both my mindset and my body.
The best thing about my year of racing in 2024 is that it gives me the opportunity to use the fantastic word: mercurial. I don't know why, but I just love the way it sounds. This past year, in every race I entered, I either won or I failed to finish. I DNFd at Cocodona and Tahoe in quick succession, which fueled some serious mental instability and self doubt. After Tahoe, I was wondering whether or not I even had the ability to finish these races. Maybe, I thought, my body just wasn't going to be up to the task any more. But, as I said in my posts after Cocodona and Tahoe, I know that I made the right decisions in those races to not continue and months later, I now feel totally at peace with all of it. Perhaps I overreached attempting to complete Cocodona and then recover and rebound to run Tahoe just over a month later. I didn't feel like anything was wrong physically going into Tahoe, but who knows, maybe my hamstring strain came about because I was still tired from the 150 miles I managed to complete in Arizona.
But, as much as it hurt in the moment, I don't regret trying to do both (although that being said, I am definitely not going for the Cocodona-Tahoe double again this year!). I've always liked the fact about myself that I am willing to give the more ambitious goals a shot. I've never been shy about wanting to win these races and I think it was worth attempting something that seemed almost impossible, even if the short term results were negative. Lessons learned, moving on.
It's certainly cliche, but my failures this year really have taught me a lot about myself. I'm not exactly sure how I can apply all of these lessons to running exactly, but some are fairly practical. The single biggest shift in how I approach races from this point on will be to focus on having fun first. Competition is good and I'm excited to be pushed by the many awesome competitors running the Triple Crown of 200s this year, but my main focus is going to be enjoying the process. I find it easy to enjoy training, after all I've said many times that training is actually my favorite part of being an ultrarunner. But there were times last year that I had heaped so much pressure on myself that I wasn't enjoying racing. This pressure not only made me disregard the many joys of being in a race and the unique experiences only possible when running with other amazing athletes and being supported by my wonderful crew, but it also made me run tight and tense.
After deciding to drop from Bigfoot and Moab in 2024, I entered a few races just for fun. I ended up winning the Mogollon Monster 100 and having a great time while doing so. And I felt relaxed. Before the race, I didn't feel nervous, but excited to see what I could do and to spend a day traipsing about the rugged Mogollon Rim. And that translated into a great performance. Running relaxed took less energy, felt better, and was so much more enjoyable. Not once did I think about how this race might affect my career as an ultrarunner or what I wanted to achieve based on some result here. I was just focused on the process of completing the miles. I had the same experience at the Red Rock 100k in November, which I also managed to win. Running relaxed is going to be a theme of 2025 for me.
Will I be able to stay mellow approaching Tahoe in June? Well, I'm sure there will be moments where The Motivator in my brain comes out and starts yelling about results and the future and money and success. But in 2024 I think I've learned to tune out a bit of the self negativity that comes with being a classically highly motivated individual. That voice is a tool, and at the right times he is invaluable in getting me out of bed to lift or pushing myself to run up a steep section during a tempo run. But outside of The Motivator's usefulness, I don't need to listen to him.
Another practical tidbit I'm going to take forward with me into 2025 is the power of positive self talk, literally talking to oneself out loud. In both Mogollon and Red Rock, I would say out loud to myself during difficult periods, "you can do this," or "this is what we came here for." I tried this strategy again this past weekend during a local 30k, a distance way outside my comfort zone. I ran it much, much faster than I anticipated and going up the final climb I talked out loud to myself. Something about saying the words rather than just thinking them seems to make me believe that they are true. There's something tangible about forming the sounds with your mouth that translates into continued forward, relentless progress. So at some point, whether I'm wandering through the sparse Tahoe pine forest, the dense, impenetrable darkness that is the Bigfoot course, or if I am underneath a starry sky flanked by soaring sandstone walls in Moab, I will be talking out loud to myself reassuring my flagging psyche that I can, indeed, do this.
I feel so positive heading into 2025. I am confident in my training plan, in my body, and in my spirit. I'm confident that if I once again must confront failure, that I will be able to do it with more grace than previously. I feel strangely at peace knowing that putting oneself out there and stating one's lofty goals from the get-go can result in the absolute juxtaposition of ambition and reality. But that's life, and I'd rather be someone with big dreams who doesn't quite reach them, than someone who doesn't dream at all. I'm going to have fun during the Triple Crown of 200s in 2025, and winning could just be a bonus.
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