It was Mile 3 and I had just face planted into the dirt and rocks on the trail. The wind was knocked out of me and the only thought I had as I got back up and kept running was “God I still have 10 miles to go…”

On May 20th I was scrolling through Instagram when I came across a post introducing a new half marathon out in Utah. It was going to be a night race near Zion National Park with quite a few modifications done to it due to Covid-19. Runners were going to be spaced out, there would be no expo, and some form of a facial covering was required to run. The race was going to take place over a course of two days, and runners got to pick their start times between 7pm and 7am. This was going to be a very different kind of run, but I was interested. A race at night? By a national park? With almost no other runners running the course at the same time? This race had my name written all over it.

I hesitated though when it came to signing up, the race was only a few weeks away, and it was an almost 8 hour drive from our home to it’s location in Virgin, Utah. I talked it over with my husband and he knew how much I wanted to push myself with my running, and thought it could be a fun trip. Not only had I never ran more than 9 miles, but neither one of us had even been to Utah. But, within 4 minutes of the registration opening up, I was signed up.

The next few weeks I completed two 7 mile runs and a handful of 1-3 mile runs, with a mix of 5+ mile hikes. I knew I wasn’t going to have the best time and pace ever, but my ultimate goal was to just cross the finish line. 

One of my good friends Katelyn had tried to get me to run a few half marathons with her before, and I had denied her every invite.The only run we had done together was the 2011 Race for the Cure 5k in Temecula, Ca.  I never ran again with her because I would get nervous about the training process, the cost of the race, and my ability to finish. But I was determined to do this and make my friend proud. My friends are use to me doing things out of the blue (a nod to my bipolar diagnosis), and when I told Katelyn she was nothing but motivating and supportive of what I was beginning to think of as a very stupid idea. 

When it came time for our trip, we loaded up my Xterra and dropped off our dog with my brother. It was an 8 hour drive from our home to our destination, but I volunteered to drive the whole way because of my susceptibility to car sickness and to give myself something to do.

As we drove past the state line into Utah, we were both underwhelmed. We had been watching way too much adrenaline junkie Youtube, and were expecting Utah to look grand and inviting. Instead we were greeted with a stark tan, bright, and hot landscape. I felt awful for bringing my husband along to what felt like a flop of an adventure, but he was nothing but positive about the whole experience. 

It wasn’t till our first full day in Utah, when we got to leave Hurricane and explore around Zion that we began to see the lure of this area. Between the great vistas and the never ending desert scenery we got the same endless feeling as we would get when looking out onto the ocean. I love people, but I also love not seeing anyone else in my surroundings (my husband I can make an exception for). The cliffs were an orange red hue, and the canyons seemed to go on for miles. After taking in the scenery for a few hours the land truly grew on us, especially as we got to see the colors greatly change at sunset.

I was getting excited to run the trails, especially under the night sky, but the nervous feeling was still dancing in the back of my mind.

I’ll talk about our Zion adventures beyond the race during Covid -19 here (post to come soon).

The night before the race we had to get to bed early, which ended up being a lot harder than I thought. I am very much a night time person, it’s when my mind is the most active and a bed time of 8 pm was a challenge. But we had to wake up at 1:30 so that I could get to the start line at 3 am. I laid in bed trying to force myself to sleep and it was valiant but failed effort. When I heard my alarm going off I was ready to head out the door before my husband had even sat up all the way in bed. I was ready to do this.

At the start location, it was a ghost town, there were maybe 8 people in the whole area. It was darker than I imagined but the clouds were blocking out most of the stars and the full moon’s glow. Thankfully the weather halted it’s fit, and there was a gentle breeze flowing through the area. I got out of the car jittery with adrenaline, and pulled up my face buff to pick up my bib number and shirt.

After stretching and kissing my husband goodbye I headed to the start line. My time started with a manual scan of my bib, and I took off. I ran directly behind a pair of female runners for about a mile until I eventually passed them. The first 2 miles of the course was along a two lane highway and there were some headlights that could spotted both ahead and behind me. My pace felt okay at the time, and it seemed like the highest elevation climb was in those first few miles.

Eventually as us runners began to naturally disperse out, I found myself completely alone. It wasn’t till the first aid station I saw sign of life since I had hit the dirt part of the trail. There under the giant mobile stadium flood light was my husband cheering me on. There wasn’t supposed to be any spectators along the course, but as my husband put it “it’s a public course, and I just happen to be mountain biking the same time as my wife’s race”. It’s these type of actions that make me love him as much as I do. 

As I left the aid station I found that the course seemed to develop into a single track trail, and was winding along what seemed to be a canyon of some sort. It was around 3:30 am at this point, and it was beyond dark. My head lamp maybe reached about 10 feet or so in front of me, so the canyon just looked like a dark pit to my right hand side. Once I turned my head back towards the trail I thought I saw some kind of mid sized creature up ahead, and then BAM down I went. It was Mile 3 and I had just face planted. The wind was knocked out of me and the only thought I had as I got back up and kept running was “God I still have 10 miles to go…”

I could feel a bit of blood around my knee, but didn’t bother to look down at the carnage. I figured ignorance was bliss since I was no where near the next aid station… or another human for that matter.

The next few miles seemed to meld together, and before I knew it I was at mile 7 and there was my husband again coming up from behind on his bike. It was nice seeing another face out there after not even seeing another head lamp in the distance. He came to cheer me on and make sure I was doing ok. I had to eventually tell him to carry on because I was getting off pace, and quite frankly felt like I was dying.

The second half of the race was much more of a mental challenge than a physical one. I had to keep my mind busy, and thankfully between my parent’s and my good friend Katelyn I had random messages popping up through my head phones cheering me on. It meant a lot that I had people cheering me on even in the early morning hours, and kept my thoughts off of my knee.

I came across a lot of kangaroo rats along the trail, and was weary about the possibility of a snake coming up. I had already apparently not seen the rock that attacked me, so I had to be extra vigilant. I was unable to get any photos of my little furry friends because they were a bit to quick for my iphone camera. *Post Race some people posted photos of the friends they came across, including: scorpions, snakes, and of course more kangaroo rats

The last 3 and a half miles seemed relatively flat, and there was hints in the sky that the sun was going to be making an appearance soon. I tried to pick up my pace and get to the finish line faster. I was running along massive vistas that I could now make out their outlines more distinctly, and could see the surrounding scenery clearer. It truly was a gorgeous scenery, and at that moment I was actually happy that I got to take in this landscape with no one else around.

I remember listening to the song Josie Escalido by the Casey Donahew band and admiring everything around me. It all just felt so right. Although I signed up for this race out of the blue, I knew that for some reason I was supposed to be there in the middle of the desert that morning.

The last few miles began to fade, and I found myself at mile 12. It was around this time that I wanted nothing else than to be done with the race and go to Cracker Barrel. I had became very aware of the toll that the mileage had on my body, multiple blisters along my feet, chaffing along my legs, and a thirst that needed about 15 gatorades to quench. I was so close to the finish, but was also very close to wanting to just hobble/walk the rest of the way.

I got the notification that I had less than a half mile till the finish, and I tried to get my legs to move faster, but they felt like they were being weighed down by lead. But then I began to hear foot steps directly behind me, and noticed another runner was suddenly trailing to my left. Where the hell did this guy come from? I had seen no one for eleven miles, and there was no way I was going to let him cross that finish line before I did. At that moment my feet became weightless and I sprinted as hard as I could to beat the mystery runner behind me. My hydration pack was then shifting and bouncing, and I wanted to chuck it away so badly, but instead unclipped it and carried it in my hand. Then under the Finish line banner I noticed that I beat the mystery runner. Reality is that he probably started way after me so still technically beat me, but at the end it gave me a little ego boost knowing I some what beat someone. 

After the finish my husband walked me to the car and helped clean up my leg. Luckily it wasn’t as bad as I was imagining it to be. Once it was cleaned and dressed, I gobbled down some recovery snacks and called my friends and family to tell them I finished. There were no medals at the finish line, which I was OK with because I knew that when signing up. The medal did show up eventually in the mail, but for post race photos we snagged some in front of the giant Zion race sign.

I had actually finished a half! With bare minimum training, $25 Kmart running shoes, and no clue how to run a race strategically. I had talked myself out of so many other races, and now recognized that the only thing that had stopped me before was myself.

So now here I am to say, that if there is something you want to do- just go and do it! Obviously maybe train more than I did, but stop talking yourself out of doing what you want to accomplish, and live it up! What is one physical goal that you want to accomplish in the next few years? Let me know in the comments section below!