We are in the midst of a huge growth of popularity within the trail running community. New races are popping up every weekend with our regular go-to races filling up before we can even type out our credit card numbers. This is awesome — this means more people are getting outside + exploring the trails to find what we love about them. This burst of trail love is something I’m generally really stoked about + something I am honored to be a part of.
Up until recently my life as a runner has revolved around races + the training plans leading up to them. In high school I ran cross country, in college I ran road races…but only for the t-shirt. After moving to Colorado I discovered trail running with a friend who called it an adventure. No matter, I went home + signed up for a trail race so I could justify running on trails.
As my experience as a runner increased so did the distances I ran. However, what/when/how I ran was always decided by the race I was signed up for. Without a race to train for I didn’t quite understand why I would even bother running. I needed those races to get my running shoes laced onto my feet + I needed those race finishes to validate myself as a runner.
That’s not a complaint, that is a fact that I chose to believe in. This made for an interesting transition for me in 2016 when my schedule became too uncertain for me to commit to races. I stopped racing, cold turkey. I also stopped running on a regular basis. I’d keep my fitness levels just high enough to tag along on group runs, but no more than that. When people asked if I was a runner I’d say I used to be one…without races, was I even a runner anymore?!
In an effort to rediscover the running hiding inside of me I signed up for the 2018 Silverton 100km, an August race with big mountain climbs. My plan was to take on training with a vengeance, using all that pent up energy from almost two years without a training plan. It was a good plan, a well intended plan. However, I did not even kinda sorta stick with it.
That didn’t quite work out. I couldn’t quite dig up the motivation to train aggressively for this race. As race day loomed closer + closer I decided to focus on time on my feet rather than speed on the trails. It turns out that in the time I spent without a training plan I had acquired a love for hiking + adventuring…with other people. This is a good thing…unless your training plan says “run 15 miles” + your friend says “let’s hike for 5 miles”. What do you choose?
I have started choosing friends over miles. My overall love for life + trails grew exponentially but my training + sub-sequential racing suffered, a lot. My general fitness + endurance didn’t falter but my ability to move with speed sure did!
When race day finally arrived on August 11th I was a ball of nerves. I wasn’t sure I even knew how to run races anymore. Did I have all the right things? I did, mostly. Why was my pack so freaking heavy? Probably because I was packing for an adventure rather than a race. Was my game plan + crew plan acceptable? It was, almost perfectly so.
I toed the starting line + settled in for the long haul…all while telling myself it was totally okay if I decided to bail out of the race at the first aid station, mile 11. I seriously contemplated this, but something inside me couldn’t justify dropping out of a race so early, especially with no excuse beyond “I don’t like this.” So I kept going. You can read the full recap of my Silverton 100km race on heidikumm.com, but in short, I spent a LOT of time creating excuses to quit.
The race course was gorgeous, the aid stations were amazing + the weather was perfect. I was under-trained but I was quite easily staying ahead of the cut-off times. Things hurt, but nothing was broken or breaking. I had no “valid” excuse to quit.
I was happy to be outside in the mountains, I simply didn’t want to be told which route I needed to take + how quickly I needed to cover the ground.
- At one of the passes there was a peak maybe a half mile off to the side. I wanted to summit it just to get panoramic views…but I couldn’t because I was running a race.
- When I came upon a rock jutting over the river I wanted to plop down, stick my feet in the water + enjoy my lunch…but I couldn’t because I was running a race.
- At an aid station I started an interesting conversation with the volunteers that I really wanted to continue, while eating cookies…but I couldn’t because I was running a race.
The course + time restrictions of the race format were annoying me. In the few years I hadn’t been racing I was discovered a sense of adventure that didn’t want to be corralled into the rules of running races. I definitely wanted to be out in the wilderness soaking up the sunshine + the views…but I wanted to do it on my terms!
Although I did spent many, many hours determined to quit the race, I kept going. I went so far as to create an audio recording of all the reasons I was allowed to quit the race…but I kept going. I had the ability to finish, so I did.
However, I walked away from that race with a new understanding about how I viewed the great outdoors. I enjoy running around on trails + I enjoy exploring the wilderness, those are facts. That said, it has become extremely important to me to be able to explore on my own terms.
I want to choose the routes + then deviate from them when I discover something new. I want to be able to lay on a rock while I eat my smashed sandwich. I want to be able to dip my toes or my entire body into an alpine lake on a hot day. I want to do all of this with friends who love the dirt ribbons woven across the mountains as much as I do.
So, without completely writing off racing [because why limit your whims!], I am now on a mission to become okay with defining myself as a runner…without having a race on the schedule.
Side Note: I should say, the Silverton 100km race was a great event + I would strongly recommend it to anyone who interested in spending a day in the San Juan mountains. It is a well organized + fully supported rugged mountain race…do it! This specific race was simply the canoe that floated me down this river of discovery, not a cause of my wayward feelings toward racing.