What I learned doing the 5th Hood to Coast Leg

1) As in life…anticipation is the worst part

Finishing my final leg in the Coast Range

When I told knowledgable Hood to Coasters I signed up for leg 5, their reactions were all the same "Why?"   "That's the hardest leg" or "Just wait until your third leg in the Coast Range."  

Just for background-my first leg was a little more than 6 miles-3 of those uphill.  The second was almost 9 miles and the third was 6 miles-3.5 straight up to the crest of the Coast Range.  I was fine for the first two legs, but I got nervous before the third.  I mean-really nervous.  I felt queasy and I stopped talking.  You know there's something wrong when I stop talking.  I could tell the guys in my van were worried.  All the sudden they started offering to pick up portions of my third leg.  I told them I'd let them know how I was holding up when I got out there.  Sure enough, I got out there and I've never felt better.  I had already run 15 miles.  Hadn't slept in 24 and I felt amazing.  It shocked me.  The anticipation is the worst part..  Just like the anticipation of doing my first live shot in Idaho Falls and auditioning for the job in Portland it's the lead up that is so much worse than the actual event.  

2)  Sometimes it's better not to see the road ahead

I began my third leg at about 4:55am Saturday morning.  It was pitch black.  I had a head lamp that shed light about 20 feet in front of me--max.  Remember, this leg is straight up in the Coast Range for three and a half miles.  No flat stretches, no decline.  But I didn't mind because I wasn't looking ahead-I was just focusing on what I was doing in the moment.  I couldn't see that I still had a giant mountain to climb.  I wish I could do this more in life.  

The only time I stopped the whole race was to capture this sign.

3)  It's the people around you that matter most

I didn't know my van-mates very well until Hood to Coast, but we became great friends quickly. There's something about swapping sweat, stories and 24 hours in a minivan that does that.   Even though they don't know my "nervous" cues..they figured them out.  My van must have stopped 6 times to root me on, offer me water and offer encouragement as I ran that final leg.  They were exhausted.  They hadn't slept in 24 hours-but their support was my fuel and they knew that.