100+, The Number of the Beast
As a novice trail runner, I've always marveled at the accomplishments of those who compete at the highest levels of the sport. On Superbowl weekend I had the priviledge of witnessing this first hand as I volunteered for aid station and trail duties at the Rocky Raccoon 100 mile trail race in Huntsville, TX.
As this is the first 100 mile event I have attended, I am still walking around in a daze and trying to organize my thoughts. I have run races and worked at races of shorter distances, but this one was very different. I have been frustrated in making sense of it, so I'll borrow something that Sean posted on the Huaraches forum recently.
"The closer you come to death, the more you'll remember and cherish the memory in the future."
In our world of creature comforts of every imaginable kind, it's awesome that for the reasonable sum of a race registration, gas and a campsite, I can receive my very own near-death experience.
While the sports' elite generally had a good day at the race, there were many more that either gutted it out to that death march at the end, or had to DNF for various reasons, including a broken leg.
To put the Rocky Raccoon in perspective, it's a great place for a fast trail runner to set a PR, or a slower trail runner to accomplish the distance. The terrain is approachable as it's a fairly flat, soft course, with mainly just the roots as the primary means of torture. Roadies can run a trail race that is not that technical. It's a welcoming full-service race with generous aid-stations, pre and post-race meals and usually agreeable weather.
That said, it's still a 100 mile race. Even the elite can have a lapse of concentration, nutrition or health that leads to DNF. To set a goal pace and acheive it, everything must go well for a very long time, loop after loop after loop. Many, many runners are pushing the edge of what they can accomplish and gamble a trip to the ER for the coveted belt buckle. The beast takes it's toll and the layers surrounding a person's essence are peeled back to see if on this day they will achieve the title of finisher.
So, in a world full of comforts and control paradigms, where we lose track of who we really are, there is the 100 mile race that beckons. Whether you finish or push yourself to the point of collapse (or both), you will remember and cherish the experience. For the question, "Who am I", there will be an answer.
'nuff said. I'm still foggy from what I've witnessed and the lack of sleep. I've known for a while that I wanted to do one of these races.
Now I know why.
