I sit here typing this as others are out tackling the VT50 course. I’ve succumbed to the first round of back-to-school viruses, a natural hazard that anyone who works in education knows all too well. While it’s just a cold, I know that it would make for a miserable slog today, and incessant sneezing on aid station tables would likely not be received well.

I signed up for the 50-miler back in May, as soon as registration opened. At the time, it felt like a really big deal, though it wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve tackled the 50 mile distance, nor would it have been my longest run. I spent over a decade delving into marathons and ultras, and while I am not a fast runner, a significant portion of my identity was tied into my fitness and ability to complete those ultra distances. I was extremely fortunate in that I spent this decade-plus without any major injuries. 

Fast-forward to my early 30s, and the injury-free times did not last. I endured multiple pelvic stress fractures that put me out of running (and most other forms of exercise) for years at a time. Not months. YEARS. For someone used to running from stress, whose identity was so intertwined with running, and who struggled (struggles) with eating and body image, this made for some challenging times. I was forced to confront things that I used to be able to run away from. I had to learn that I was not defined by the shape of my body nor the amount of physical activity I do, which meant that I had to start by not defining myself that way. This continues to be a work in progress. As I began the painfully slow and tedious journey back to running, my relationship with it changed. Running felt like a good friend who had betrayed me. I had to inch my way back to a fitness level that was nowhere near where I used to be. I always felt like I was teetering on the edge of another injury. I ran a few marathons in that time, but did them slowly and with minimal training, as I always felt like I would end up hurt again if my weekly mileage increased too much or too soon.

Fast forward again to signing up for the VT50. I felt like I was finally, FINALLY, in a place where I could run consistently and build to an ultra again. However, throughout the months I spent training for it, my focus became less and less about the race, and more about all that I experienced through preparing for it:

• I reconnected with the joy of solo long runs, time alone in the woods with my thoughts. The highlight was a solo run from my house up and over Mt. Ascutney and back, totaling around 28 miles. Our porch view of the summit is so much sweeter knowing I can make it there and back on my own two feet.
• As my husband likes to say, he got his adventure buddy back. Sean and I love hikes with our dogs, but now we can also get out for trail adventures just the two of us, moving at a quicker pace while quietly enjoying each other’s company. After moving here from Colorado just over a year ago, we are having so much fun tagging summits throughout the Northeast while still being able to breathe deeply above treeline.
• I learned to love cross-training. I found an incredibly fun and supportive community upon stepping out of my comfort zone and joining a master’s swim team. Fewer miles and more variety throughout my training weeks has been a really good thing for me. 
• I completed the Upper Valley Running Series. Participating in those races brought me a deeper sense of community and some of the sweetest age group awards around. (Artisan jam? A block of cheese?! It’s like they knew the way straight to my heart.) 
• I completed 6 Hours on Lover’s Lane in Chester, VT as a training run, which was the first time I ran beyond a marathon distance in over 5 years. That felt like a really big accomplishment. The low-key, community-centered vibe at that event is everything I love about the running community, and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a fun long run before the VT50 next year. 
• A few weeks ago, I decided to change my registration from the 50-miler to the 50k. I felt like I could probably finish the 50-miler, but my body was telling me that the 50k was the smarter choice. I was surprised at how content I was in making that decision, which indicated that I have indeed grown as a human being throughout the long process of healing from injuries. It’s okay not to run the longest distance offered.

I would be lying if I said I’m not disappointed that I’m missing out on the VT50 today. However, I’m also incredibly grateful that I was able to run as much as I did in preparation for it, and for all of the joy, camaraderie, and mountain vistas  I experienced in doing so. It was never about the race, and yet, I’ll probably be clicking that Register Here button again when it appears in May.