At 12:52 PM as I entered the front of the corral for the start of Ultra Trail Mount Fuji I had 8 minutes to let the excitement build around me and within me. Looking up into the sky filled with nimbostratus clouds, a light rain fell into my eyes and brought my gaze back to ground level. It was pretty spectacular to think about how I was surrounded by ultra-runners from around the world and although the talent level of the field spanned a great spectrum, from those contending for a spot on the podium to those fighting to make the cutoffs, everyone toeing the line had my respect for taking on this challenging course.
As minutes clicked away as we waited for the race to begin the pack of anxious runners got tighter and tighter. Unable to really move I focused on my thoughts to help stay calm. I knew in my mind that I had done the physical training to be competitive at this race. I repeated in my mind “Run your own race. Execute. Don’t forget to smile.” I was then brought back to real time as the countdown began and we were off.
I weaved my way in and out of large swarms of people trying to avoid a collision or misstep. I wasn’t concerned with who was in front of me I just wanted to find my pace. Soon I fell into stride behind Uxue Fraile and was in the midst of Fernanda Maciel and Shona Stephenson. A few kilometers of flat running helped us all find our stride and allowed the field sort out slightly before our high cadence road legs slowed to a power hiking pace on the climb. I was fortunate enough to pre-run this first section a few days prior with Salomon teammate Gary Robins so for the moment my mind stayed calm. Just a kilometer into the climb along the way Uxue moved out of sight in front of me and behind Shona had fallen back. Now I was with Fernanda and she and I changed positions several times throughout this section.
As I worked my way to the first aid station it was already clear, the course was going to be very slippery and something felt off. I started working through everything in my head. Feet felt great, legs felt great, stomach was calm, my energy was unwavering, so physically I was firing on all cylinders and without much effort. I should have been ecstatic or at least content, but I felt miserable and there was the problem. My mind was not on board with what I was trying to accomplish. I tried to distract myself so put in my headphones, although listening to music was short lived as I still around a lot of other runners and wanted to be able to hear their cues if they needed to pass or wanted to interact.
I still needed to remedy my problem though because I couldn’t get out of my head and it was bringing me down. It was literally like I was running on all cylinders, but my breaks were rubbing and screeching. I decided to try and shift my mindset by making a micro goal. It seemed logical to focus on making it that it to the water station 1, which was 29 miles into the race and also the first crew access point. My stepfather Jeff would be waiting there to support me, and maybe seeing a familiar face and hearing a familiar voice would help me reset mentally. I kept telling myself, “Just make it to Jeff.”
As the miles passed I was changing positions frequently with Yanxiu Shi and Fernanda. We were on a section of course that had been changed due rain and the potential environmental impact of the race. This route change was taking longer than I had predicted and I didn’t have enough fuel. Knowing it would not be wise to put myself in a deficit that I couldn’t rebound from I kept my pace easy. In my head I started a list of mistakes that I had already made thus far (1. Wrong shoes, not enough traction for the muddy mountain sections, 2. Miscalculating calories). Typically I revisit my mistakes after a race to learn from this, but today the list was aiding to my negativity.
Finally arriving at the first crew station, I was in third position and I focused on taking in some calories before leaving. I sucked down a gel and drank some fluid and as I ran out I was sure to verbalize my mistakes. I ran around the loop within the aid station and was about to set back off into the darkness as I realized that my pack had broken so I couldn’t hook the front strap. I yelled to Jeff, but he was in conversation with another crew and didn’t hear me. I then yelled over to Meghan Hicks of irunfar and she came running over. Just as she reached over to help me a race personnel told us she could not help me as it was against the rules to receive help from anyone except your one designated crewmember. Not knowing how I would run the remaining distance without securing my pack I took off in an even more frustrated state. As I grumbled along I felt it necessary to add this incident to my mistake list (3. Not looking over equipment before a race).
I stretched the strap across my midsection and tied it in a knot on the other side as I headed into the Tenshi mountain range. Everyone who has done the race talks about the Tenshi mountains and I felt a dose of excitement to move into this section. It was to be a great challenge and a new experience for me as the pitches reached as steep as 50 degrees. Within a few feet of entering this section it was clear I wasn’t going anywhere fast. It was arduous and methodical work calculating each hand and foot placement to ensure forward progress. My view was limited to what the beam of my headlamp revealed and there was no way to really pause without causing a pile up of runners. I was leading a train of runners of about 5 or 6 runners and approximately an hour into the climb I asked humorously, “Who has a good story?” I think I could hear the crickets chirping in the background so I followed it with, “It can be in English or your language of choice!” Still nothing so I continued to plug away in silence.
After reaching the top of the first major climb in the Tenshis my entertainment arrived as our train started descending. The trail had become a track of slippery mud like I have never experienced before. I hesitated briefly and a male runner behind me that spoke limited English said, “You ski!” I started skating and skiing down the mud because running down it wasn’t going to happen. Every now and then I would catch a root or wrap myself around a tree and consequently those behind me also went down. The muddy mess pile-ups happened so repeatedly I felt like we were on a comical Japanese television show. After a few hours of climbing and more descending I was delighted to finally find myself on more runnable terrain.
At this point I had fallen into pace with Thomas John Adams from Great Britain. I gave my hydration blatter a squeeze to see how much water remained and was surprised I was out. I glanced at my watch and realized that it had been about 4 hours since the last aid station. I had planned on 4 hours for this section. I asked Thomas if he thought we were close and he said, “I figure we have 10k to go.” My response was too improper to admit here. Then there was a note to self, adding to the mistake list (4. Better calculate the time in between aid stations). Finally after another solid hour of running in what I swear were circles, Thomas and I came into aid station 4. Jeff was waiting anxiously for me and I knew I wanted to change socks due to the mud, dampness and amount of debris in my shoes. So a quick swap into a new pair of Drymax socks and some more fuel for my pack. As I headed out of the aid station Tadashi, who was crewing for Gary, told me that Gary was taking a nap so I made the assumption he was dropping out.
I glanced at my watch to calculate time to the next aid station and got fixated on how I had lost time in the mountains. The reality was that I wasn’t overly surprised about it. My down-hilling on that section was deplorable and my mental fortitude was nonexistent. I knew I was simply going through the motions and I also knew this was one heck of a race to not be mentally present. Thankfully before I had time to beat myself up too badly I crossed paths with Thomas again and I tried to keep in range of him to keep an honest pace. As we worked our way through a remote section that include some forest road and what I would call “follow a flag” sections where there was actually no trail, we came up behind Amy Sproston. This was the first time I had seen Amy since the start line so I was eager to catch up socially. Amy, Thomas and I stayed together for several miles before Amy’s sleepiness slowed her down. Knowing Amy’s running abilities I knew it was likely that I would see her again later in the race.
Somewhere around water station 2 I lost Thomas, maybe it was when I veered off to see two dogs dressed up in costumes that I desperately wanted to pet. After getting some puppy love and making my way through the aid station I headed back out and realized that in close proximity were Gary, Fernanda and Yukako Takashima. I encouraged Gary to catch me and he laughed seemingly doubting that he would make up the ground. It was still pitch dark out, it was now raining and I was running through a freshly mowed field. My feet were soggy to say the least, I was filthy from the Tenshi’s and I was running solo. I looked at my watch and told myself “Just 8.8 miles until I see Jeff, just get to Jeff”.
I checked the course profile that I had stashed in my pocket and noticed that this section was slated to be slightly uphill and very runnable. Putting the elevation profile away I came across Thomas once again and it was nice to see his familiar silhouette in the darkness and to hear his British accent. It was crazy to think we were only approximately half way through the race, but somehow Thomas kept me going all the way into aid station 5 at the Mount Fuji Museum. I ran right through the regular aid station and proceed to the crewing area. My tired eyes scanned left to right and right to left, but I didn’t spot Jeff. Finally I saw Tadashi and asked him where Jeff was and I was informed he hadn’t arrived. I noticed that all of Gary’s extra supplies were laid out on the table and I asked if I could take some knowing that there was a lot to spare. Due to the crewing rules I couldn’t take anything Tadashi had brought so I left the aid station with no fuel. Of course a mental note of my mistake (5. Have a back-up plan for if crew doesn’t arrive at crew point).
I ran out of the brightly lit tent and realized that at this station Jeff and I were to swap headlamps so I would have fresh batteries. This was the first time I was racing with the Petzl Nao so I wasn’t completely sure of battery life, so I stopped dead in my tracks, dug into my pack and pulled out a fresh battery to put in my torch before going any further. I was really impressed with the reactive lighting of my new headlamp, although I was more than ready for the sun to rise. Then finally it happened; no the sun didn’t come up, but Gary caught me. I was excited to have his company, but thought it would be short lived so was pleasantly surprised when it turned into some solid miles. We worked to encourage and support each other along the way. I will never forget running and walking up the gravel lava rock as we approached aid station 6 and finally after about 13 hours in the dark we could turn off our headlamps.
I knew I needed to focus on myself in the aid station and then see if Gary and I reconnected on the other side. I changed my socks again and empty the lava gravel out of each shoe. With some words of encouragement from Jeff and Tadashi, both Gary and I left the aid station together. I was not thrilled that within moments my shoes were already filled with gravel again and Gary encouraged me to let them remain in my shoes until we passed through all the deep sections. Once we were done all the lava rock sections I pulled over on the trail, plopped down on my butt and emptied each shoe. Not long after that I told Gary I was going to walk and try to eat something and I knew this was the time that we parted ways. He ran off quickly into the distance and I walked to consume a gel. In retrospect this is when my race started to really crumble. I was alone, I was having a difficult time consuming calories and my self-defeating mind was getting louder by the minute. So again I made a micro goal and focused on getting back to Jeff at the 74.9-mile mark.
After what seemed like a never-ending side walk section I arrived at aid station 7 and immediately stopped at the regular aid station to fill my soft flasks with coke. It was carbonated, and I like to drink it flat so I shook each of them up, which led to them squirting all over the place (6. Shaking a soft flask of soda will have the same result as shaking a bottle of soda). I ended up drinking them fully charged with pressure and then went and grabbed some fuel for my pack from Jeff. I don’t recall what I said to him at this aid station, but I know it wasn’t very nice as my mood was rather unpleasant. Before I knew it I was off and running and regretted not getting in an apology before taking off. Then within a minute of leaving the aid station I stuck my head in the bushes and started throwing up the coke I had just drank, karma perhaps. Thomas ran past and asked if he could do anything, but in reality there was nothing he could do. After throwing up for a few minutes I felt like I was on the verge of tears and wanted to turn back to the aid station. I knew if I made that choice my race would be over, I would want comfort and consoling so I pressed on.
Now it was time to head back into the mountain and do some serious climbing, I had estimated about 3 hours to cover the nine miles. The terrain proved to be what I expected, very hiking intensive and required a lot of ropes and scrambling on large rocks. My stomach was not happy and I couldn’t eat or drink. My mind was telling me to stop, to put on the fresh clothes in my pack and curl up with my emergency blanket for a nap. Everything was aggravating me, right down to the dirt under my fingernails. To distract my mind I decided to play the alphabet game. Starting with the first letter in the alphabet I would find something around me in nature that started with “A” and then move on to the next letter until I had gone through the entire alphabet. Things started off well with “A-acorn,” “B-boulder,” “C-canopy” and then things shifted to “D-deplorable “E-enraged,” “F-fail “! My game had gone from nature words to negative nelly. I started a new game with the theme of names, but it once again turned to negative connotations so I went with it. I figured let’s get this out of my system and in the moment it felt good to do it, to let go some of that bottled frustration. Even though I flushed some of negativity out it was still flourishing inside me. I swore to myself that I never wanted to see a trail again and that I would never in my life run again! All of this while I was gaining on first place, but I couldn’t make myself care that I was gaining on Uxue. In my mind I was done so for the next two aid stations I continued to try to quell my inner negativity (7. Just because you are physically prepared for a race, doesn’t mean you are mentally prepared).
About 6 miles out from aid station 10, I was passed with gusto by Fernanda and Kaori. They made me feel like I was standing still and they looked joyful and full of energy. I vividly remember thinking “F--- I just went from 2nd place to 4th place! What the hell am I doing?” I needed to decide if I was going to completely throw in the towel or put up a fight and I knew I needed to decide fast. Without further thought my cadence quickened, my stride lengthened and I knew that I needed to keep them in sight for as long as I could. I felt this urge to not give them satisfaction of so easily overtaking me. It took about 4 miles before I caught and pass Kaori and this time I was the one flying past as I then set my sights on Fernanda who was about a quarter of mile in front of me. We were headed downhill on a long section of pavement and then through a small town and I was happy to see a sub 6:30 pace on my watch. As it happens just upon arriving and entering the aid station I was right with Fernanda. We both went straight to our crews and sat down. It was all business. Do what needed to be done and get out. Before I knew it Fernanda was up and running and I stood up and said “Jeff I’ve gotta go!”
I fled after Fernanda and then started running with her once I caught up. We ran out of the small town and headed back into the mountains. Once the pitch of the climb intensified we both fell into a hike. Fernanda proposed the idea of working together to hold off the Japanese runner Kaori. The idea that we start together and finish together on this day worked for me as I completely respect Fernanda and was thrilled to have the opportunity to run with her so much. We continued climbing as two spectators on the side of the trail with musical instruments played the Rocky theme song for us. I bounced up and down flexing my “muscles” to show my appreciation. Then it was back to work as Fernanda led for most of the climb and I kept tabs on what was happening behind us. The climb felt never ending, but knowing the peak elevation helped me use my Suunto watch to determine how much more we had to go before the long descent to the lake. After hitting the high point we ran the single-track switch backs down and both complained about how painful each foot strike was because our feet were so sore. Emerging out of the woods we could see the lake and our eyes searched for the finish area. We both seemed in disbelief that it was across the lake, which meant some solid miles still to go. As we made our way I saw Thomas walking off in the distance in front of us and told Fernanda that we had to “pick him up.” We ran past and I said, “Come on Thomas, let’s go, hop on.” He quickly found his stride and the three of us finished the final mileage together. Just before the line we all grabbed hands and celebrated as we broke the finish tape.
Crossing the finish line at the Ultra Trail Mount Fuji meant a lot to me. Physically crossing the line brought a massive sense of relief, as I was relieved that not only the race was over but also that my season was over. Mentally I was relieved that I could move on from self-induced negative space I was in. I know that this year I took on a lot by stating racing in January and then participating in the Ultra Trail World Tour. The amount of training, the amount of travel and the amount of races was far more than I have ever done. I had good days and bad days just like any runner. I learned a lot about myself and about the love that my family has for me. I’ve become closer with my training partners who I know are not only training partners, but lifelong friends. I’ve traveled the world and experienced other cultures while exploring on trails and the city streets. I am grateful for all my experiences and could have not done it without the support of everyone so thank you!