Rookie Race Report

By Tonya Olson

MMTR 2005 was my first ultra, my first 50 mile race and the first real hills I’ve run on since April.  Coming from the roads and flatlands of Charleston, SC choosing a race named the Mountain Masochist was not the most prudent strategy however, thanks to my brother and David Horton, Mt. Masochist 50++ was to become my gateway into ultra running.  I registered in July and started logging miles.  Fast forward a few months to three weeks before the race, I had a million questions about how to run, what to wear, what to eat, etc.  I e-mailed Rebekah Trittipoe for advice and she responded by welcoming me into her home for race weekend.  She fielded my questions well, set my mind at ease and mentally walked me through the course with tips, warnings and strategies.  I heard her voice in my head the entire race and recounted her advice to many of the runners around me throughout the day, “Rebekah said, that the loop will deceive you…Rebekah said, to do what you need to do and pay no attention to those around you…walk the hills, but make sure you walk with purpose, don’t slack off”.  She was with me every step of the way, encouraging, speaking wisdom and calming my nerves. Her openness and hospitality were to set the tone for the weekend which was to become one marked by great people, new friendships and physical challenge.

The race itself was an amazing and wonderful thing to me, Rebekah suggested that I leave my watch at home so, I ran from aid station to aid station trying to adjust my pace to how my body felt.  There were many people with whom I shared conversation along the way whom I would like to thank, some of the names I caught, some I didn’t, however I will never forget the experiences we shared.  Let’s see…there was Chris who kept me entertained and inspired with stories of the 8 long races he’d already run this year.  Phil brought me through the loop, sharing his perspective of the many ultras he’s done and brought me to imagine the possibility of stepping up to longer races.  At every accessible aid station stood my faithful friend and running partner, Tim who’d driven down from Indiana to run the last part of the race with me-what a friend!  Rebekah’s husband Gary, ferried Tim around all day and kept me updated as to her status and tempered my enthusiasm when it seemed I was too blasted happy to have run 27 miles already.  I won’t forget his face at aid station #10 when he reminded me that I “only” had to run straight up the mountain next, so beware.  I took his words to heart, but kept smiling as I really was having a heck of a lot of fun!  Later, when things got tough I thought of David, the distances he’s covered, the tears he’s cried, I reminded myself that no pain I felt could possibly be relevant as compared to what he had experienced on the PCT. 

Tim ran in with me from the loop and at one point, tried to cheer me up by telling me that I only had about an hour left, I burst into tears at the thought of leaving the mountain.  We had been through so much together that day-she’d slowed me down on the up hills and gently humbled this road runner who was not accustomed to walking during races.  She encouraged me on the down hills, roused me out of my laziness and reminded me that I was not entirely reduced to plodding, she showed me my weakness with humility and gently shed light on strengths to which I was unaware, while illuminating a place within myself that I had only imagined.  I thanked God for everything that had led me to this beautiful place, to these beautiful people and ran through the woods, tears clouding my vision as I thought of the race, the day and the weekend coming to and end.  It was a bittersweet journey for me to the finish.

Running those last few miles was an interesting struggle between sore legs, loose rocks and the pull of gravity.  I didn’t know to what extent I should surrender to momentum and was nervous about coming so far only to end the race with a careless step and a broken ankle.  So I ran conservatively and quietly down the last hills, thinking about my brother, Horton, Rebekah, and the runners with whom I’d shared the trail that day.  I was afraid that I was running too slow and was letting them down.  I was so sorry for being quiet and cranky with my friend Tim who’d driven so far only to be treated badly.  I didn’t believe that the finish was really just up ahead until I heard Cat yell my name, what a lovely sound-I couldn’t believe that she remembered my name!  I’ve grown accustomed to finishing races alone and it was such a rare treat for me to have friends at the finish.  My mind blurred and my body went numb as I crossed the finish, David and the others were there with hugs and kind words, what a glorious day!

The race for me was not so much about the distance covered-it was about friendship, generosity and the effect we have on others by simply living our lives.  I cannot thank enough all of the people who offered advice, shared conversation and opened my eyes and heart to the culture of ultra-running.  It is no accident that I ran and finished my first ultra with a big smile on my face, I was carried along by my friends, the mountain and forever touched by the significant impact that small moments shared with strangers had had on my life.  I can not stress enough the fact that words of advice and encouragement from those who’ve been there before are crucial to those who haven’t and I thank each and every person who touched my life on race day and the days leading up to it.  I encourage all of you to never underestimate the effect your life and actions may have on others.

   “To the world you may be only one person, to one person you may be the world.”  Walk carefully; you never know whose life you may be changing forever today.