Tales from the back of the pack....

FROM THE BACK OF THE PACK

 

I’ve never really considered myself a runner. When I started my journey in 2009, I was barely able to sustain a 17 min mile.  I felt like every step I made towards becoming a runner would be a difficult one. I trained hard and only managed 5k’s in the 30min range. I pushed forward to longer distances, and continued to feel like no matter how hard I tried, I would always be on the slower side of the group. Once I finished my first marathon, I was intrigued by the thought of running distances beyond, but worried that my slower than average pace wouldn’t be enough.  Finally in 2011 I ran my first ultra, managing 50 miles barely within the cutoff.  I ran several marathons and ultras the following year, getting slightly faster and more efficient, but still maintaining my ‘back of the pack’ status.  Only when I finished my first 100 miler in 2013 did I feel like I could FINALLY call myself a runner (and an ultrarunner at that); but that finish wasn’t fast, it wasn’t glorious, it didn’t break any records, and it was barely under the cutoff.

 

Being a distance runner has never come easy to me. I am the one who starts at the back of the pack and generally finishes somewhere near the back of the pack. When the gun goes off, I watch as the crowd blows by, leaving only a scarce few runners who may, or may not, remain with me. The majority of the time I am alone on the trails. I am wondering if I’ll make the next cutoff, worried that if I stop too long, I’ll be pulled from the course.

 

I don’t have the luxury of not worrying about my pace during most races. I know that if I slow, I may not make it. I also know that in most long distance events, I’ll be on the course for time much longer than the rest of the pack. I worry about my friends finishing before me and the burden I may place on them having to wait around. I worry about what will happen when it gets dark and the field thins. I worry about being alone at night, and about the gear I’ve packed and if it’s enough to carry me through till morning.

 

When I think about running a hundred mile event, I think about the normal cutoff of 30 hours. I think about the fact that while many are finishing, I’ll still be out on course…. hours after they have long celebrated their victory, put their feet up, and headed home for a warm comfy bed. I know that within my race, I’ll have seen the sun rise twice. I’ve had to calculate my hydration and nutrition for the longer haul. I’ve had to learn to trust in my body, trust in my gear, trust in knowing that I can and will find a way to muster the strength to finish. I’ve learned that loneliness is my friend, and that I’m not racing anyone else but myself (and that damn clock).

 

I’ve learned to accept being part of the ‘back of the pack’ crowd. I’ve learned that running is about enjoying myself and my time on the course. While many are out there pushing themselves to their limits to break new records, I’m content just running for the pure joy of running. I have met some incredible people who share the ‘back of the pack’ with me. I’ve laughed, cried, limped, and rejoiced with these athletes. Victory is finishing something amazing that we’ve started (let it be a 5k or hundred miler)… it should not be about the time or place at which our journey is completed.