Just a Silly Number

By Jenny Anderson

Number 106.  It is just a silly number.  Why was I so hung up on the number Horton had given to me?  Seeded sixth for the ladies?  What?

            E-mail dated 2/9/07 at 9:37 AM:

                        Dr. Horton, What exactly does “seeded entrants” mean?  I need

            clarification.  Does this number correspond to our bib number?  Is it based on

            speed and/or does it determine where we line up on the start line?

Just curious,

Jenny

E-mail dated 2/9/07 at 9:38 AM from D. Horton:

“Yes”

All I could do was laugh.  I mean, does he not know that I haven’t run an ultra since 2004?  He obviously doesn’t know that this is only my second ultra ever.  Heck, I haven’t even done a marathon.  Moreover, he must be completely ignorant of the fact that I had Baby #3 since then, I have extra weight on me and I am less trained.  In fact, I did not even decide to run Holiday Lake until four weeks prior.  Does Horton not realize what a wimp I am under frigid conditions; which was the forecast for the day?  Oh, he would not have seeded my sixth if he had known all of these undeniable facts. 

Truthfully, I only decided to do Holiday Lake because I had no excuses this year.  In 2005, I was pregnant.  In 2006, I was recuperating and nursing a little one.  This year?  No excuses.  I had to do it.  Finishing was my only goal. 

So there I was at 5:30, the following morning, in the 4-H Center at Holiday Lake.  As I sat watching those around me, I studied their preparation techniques and I observed their gear.  Some I envied and some I thought were crazier than me.  Nevertheless, I felt at home.  Their warm and authentic nature was raw and I knew I was in my element.  My legs trembled partly because of how cold I was but mostly because of my nerves.  Among the other obstacles, my day’s supply of ibuprofen had been shattered and dissolved into my waist belt.  How would I get through the pain of the day without it?  Additionally, my bowels were not cooperating to say the least.  I was feeling the race well before we even started. 

We began the race and I used my mind to help me through all the challenges that were against me.  I thought happy thoughts and thanked God the whole way for the opportunity.  Only 45 minutes into the run I realized that my water bottle was a solid block of ice.  Not a drop would make it into my mouth.  I was determined to swish the bottle this way, hold it that way and unfreeze some of it but it was clear by the time I reached the turn around that it was just dead weight so I made the difficult decision to toss it aside.  I hadn’t ingested any liquids during the first half of the race…not smart.  I felt the effects of the dehydration as my stomach became more and more queasy.  Additionally, I was feeling the pain that the ibuprofen was intended to numb.  I had no choice but to stop at every aid station on my second loop which decelerated my time tremendously but it helped to keep me going.  I needed fluids. 

Through all this, I kept my mind focused on the fact that I was blessed with the ability to be out there doing what I love to do.  I took note of the breathtaking sunrise on the ice-encrusted pine trees as we came upon the orchard.   I noticed the beauty of the sun glistening down on the icy streams and lake.  I absorbed the sound of the water plummeting from the dam as I crossed on my final mile.  All this beauty left me no room to complain nor should I think my situation was any different from anyone else.  We were all warriors out in that arctic tundra.  Having done only one ultra before was enough to teach me humility.  To be humble is a necessity in this sport because you never know how unforgiving the weather or terrain might be or how your body will react to all the elements on any given day.  This sport is like no other.  The beauty of the lake, the company of runners that surrounded me, the friendly and encouraging faces at all the aid stations, nature, solitude, the quietness, the highs, the lows, the ability to do it, the challenges, the fact that everyone looked like beautiful ice sculptures, and the art and speed of the athletes before me was all enough to see the grandeur of running ultras. 

In the end, my question was answered.  Yes, Horton knew that I was facing many obstacles.  He may not have known mine specifically but he knows that every athlete has their own story and their own set of challenges working against them.  I am no different.  Normally, my passion alone is enough to drive me to do my best.  On that particular morning, when I was simply “looking to finish,” I had more behind me.  I am not sure if it was the fact that I was trying to earn the right to wear that silly little number or simply someone else’s belief in me.  Either way, it worked and it was a glorious day.

No more excuses, Promise Land here I come.