It’s been one heck of a season. When I reflect on everything accomplished this year, it really feels like a couple of seasons in one. In this journey we pack so much in to such a condensed period of time that things from just a couple of months ago already seem a lifetime away. 

We live a fast life, literally flying from one place to a next. We compartmentalize well. It doesn’t matter whether you won or lost a week ago when you start on your next start line. We move fast. So much so that I think it takes intentional time of reflection to really see the forest for the trees sometimes. 

Those closest to me have been telling me for a few weeks now that I’m tired. I’ve been operating at 100% for a long time and my body is forcing a bit of a pull back. To be honest, I’m still in a bit of denial. When others tell me that “it’s been a long season” and they are “experiencing deep fatigue” I nod with genuine understanding. When I consider the situation for myself, I have a lot less grace to give. 

I feel like it’s the time of the year when I desperately try not to be human, but unfortunately, I still am. 

With the final 2 races of the year coming into sight, it’s been a balancing act of preparing for the final showdowns and shedding fatigue that has been building for the last 9 months. No matter where your body is at on race day, you line up with the plan and the vision of being your best.

When I lined up for Little Sugar on Saturday morning, I was genuinely happy to be there. After battling a significant illness just 2 weeks before it hadn’t seemed like a given. I was excited to race 60 miles of almost all singletrack trails. Something that I love on any day. 

The race started fast and I felt calm and in control. My brain told me to drop the clutch but my body wouldn’t go. I entered the trail in a less-than-optimal position, but still feeling calm and in control I told myself that I could calmly execute passes when everyone else was redlining. 

The trails proved even harder to pass than I anticipated. If you tried to pass but didn’t execute well then it was a match burned and wasted. If you didn’t pass when you should then you risked having to wait even longer to pass or missing the move happening up the trail. It seems like all of these things happened to me in the opening hour(s) of the race. I kept wanting to make passes but then somehow would end up moving myself out of the group entirely. 

Frustration was mounting. I found myself actually taking out loud to myself frequently. “Just stay focused.” “Just keep executing.” “Just stay on it.” I was determined to be my best on the day even if it wasn’t my best result. 

For most of the race it felt like I was running into a brick wall. I continually pulled my focus from where I was in the field to what I could do to try to go just a little faster. When I was feeling like I was nearing the end of my rope, I decided to ram the wall just one more time. 

I entered a section of trail I absolutely love and I committed to attacking that section like it was all I was doing. I broke through the wall. 

Sometimes you have to hit the wall 100 times to make the bricks crumble. 

I passed someone on that section of trail and it was the morale boost I needed. Now I was hunting. I was literally craning my neck around corners to see if I could see someone ahead. When I caught a competitor, I actually asked how far ahead the next one was. I was looking at the count down on my COROS DURA and instead of begging for the finish, all of a sudden, I was begging for more time. I pulled back a ton of time in the closing miles and I pulled back 4 people. I managed to finish in the top 10. 

The result is respectable and I want to honor that, but I’m also extremely aware that when I’m my best self I’m capable of more. I think a part of this journey is learning how to race when you aren’t at your best, but giving your best effort anyways. Whether I want to admit it or not, my body is tired, but there is one more dance this season so I’m going to remain in denial for another 5 days. I’m going to line up with all of the hope in the world and I’m going to see what I can pull out.