Race Report: My Happy Place

If you've been following my adventures since Northburn Station, you'd know that this one has been a long time coming.  

And there is no TL;dr to it because it doesn't deserve one.  This one is going to be Odyssean, even by my standards.  So maybe grab a beer or six. 

Race Report: Obligatory Ass Pun Goes Here, Con't

Some of you, like myself, have probably been waiting for this for almost a whole year.  

My new love in my life, Marsha

Don't worry, you won't be disappointed.

Race Report: To Be Human Again, 2018 ed.

I've always dreaded the inevitability that one day, I'll execute a race so flawlessly that my corresponding race report would sound boring and dishonest.

Thankfully that day was not during the 2018 100mi version of the Tahoe Rim Trail Endurance Runs (TRTER).  

also, because i am concurrently training to be a ninja there are no public photos of me on the course again [yet].  sorry.  (not sorry.)   (Edit 07/31: I found one!)
there may be choice gifs here and there though for the lolz.  

#foreshadowing

Race Report: Not Today

It's been a long half-year since I last posted, and more since I last wrote a race report.  I was worried that writing this would be particularly onerous as I wasn't sure if I was able to inject the same color into my prose the way I did in reports previously.

Thankfully, Mother Nature had my back during the 2018 108k version of the River of No Return (RONR) Endurance Runs and ensured that my experience would be ridiculously eventful.  Buckle up--it's a long one, and in a historical first, one with no photographic evidence that I was actually on the course.  

(it's been strava'd though so it did happen.)

obligatory year end 2017-by-the-numbers-and-other-stuff note

We're on a planet that somehow knows how to rotate on its axis and follow a defined path while it hurtles through space!  Our hearts beat!  We can see!  We have love, laughter, language, living rooms, computers, compassion, cars, fire, fingernails, flowers, music, medicine, mountains, muffins!  We live in a limitless Universe overflowing with miracles!  The fact that we aren't stumbling around in an inconsolable state of sobbing awe is appalling.  The Universe must be like, 'what more do I have to do to wake these bitches up?'

--Jen Sincero

not the same Jetta as 2015.
also, my daily is not a Jetta.

Race Report: Detox Just to Retox

longtime readers will know that the last time i had a legit off-season was between 17 January and 7 May of 2016.  since then i've been racing either monthly or bimonthly at the very least, and needless to say....it's getting fairly onerous.  it's not the same type of burnout i had after my 24h run in 2015 that culminated a 5-month stretch with a monthly 99mi+ run, but as of late i've been definitely viewing my training regime as a chore.  furthermore, despite my race history reading like a masterclass in destination racing, lately i've been more stressed out while out of the office than when in the office because of the fires i had to fight from far far away.

you could say i wasn't getting much enjoyment out of running anymore.  

Race Report: The Beauty of Brutality

Despite my ninja-nomad lifestyle, I'm not one for intentionally running-for-shits-and-giggles.  Being raised by working-class immigrants and being largely depraved of genuine, legit vacations in my early childhood, the vast majority of the races I run these days have some utilitarian function, whether it be bagging a qualifier or completing a race series, or because I have to burn off vacation days I don't want to, or to say I done did a race arguing with a burro for nearly ten hours because I needed a Tinder profile picture refresh.  

I did not need to run Mogollon.  I already had my totally-unnecessary Hardrock qualifier from Northburn (I had finished Angeles Crest in 2016, which itself was totally unnecessary because I finished Fat Dog in 2015), and Mogollon counts for shit-all at WSER.  I only signed up because I joked to my friend Del last year at R2R2R that I should come back for a visit and make the ritual an annual event three years running, and Mogollon could be the excuse.  Amazingly this wasn't the first time I half-jokingly suggested a race to someone we could all do, only to realize later they weren't fucking around (sorry again, Karen/Lourdes!)--so I didn't want to flake out yet again.

Appreciating suffering--it's not easy to do with intention.  My motivation and hunger have previously been compromised at the start line of races where I lacked a raison d'etre, but I wanted Mogollon to be a more difficult study in casual lunacy.  I wanted to mix in a sense of urgency into an unpredictable exercise with minimal tangible gain.   I wanted to actually experience the Mogollon Rim's unique character not just with my eyes, but by jumping feet first into hell.  I wanted to be able to laugh about it right at the finish line.  I wanted to finish a race with no necessity, yet in a complete bliss that would have began by mile 75--and in the complete absence of regret.