There was a time in my life when I signed up for races rather prolifically. It didn’t matter what type of perceived shape I was in or where my fitness was; at the very “worst,” I’d be posting a supported training run, and at the (somewhat miraculous) very “best,” maybe I’d set a new PR in the race distance. These days, I tend to swing the opposite direction — I’m only signing up for races for which I train specifically, more often than not — so it’s with a bit of yuletide jolly that I laughed at myself when I signed up for Inside Trail Racing’s Woodside Ramble half marathon. (I think this is the point in the story where I’ll blame my decision on Meredith, ha).

Like I’ve mentioned before, I couldn’t do CIM, so I thought I’d instead do the Ramble 50k. A prohibitive weekend schedule, for several months, made it clear that trying to race a trail 50k (and properly training for it) would be unwise, so then I thought a 35k would suffice … yadda yadda yadda … so here I was, about a week before the race, hoping for the best with Woodside’s trail half that had a touch over 2k of elevation. I’ve never trained for a half marathon, proper, or a trail race at that, so my “training plan” that I used this fall (mostly with XC in mind) was simply run in ARP as much as possible and accumulate a couple k of climbing each week. I just hoped that’d be enough to ensure that I didn’t die during the Woodside half. 

Meredith, her teammate Sara, and I met up at Woodside race morning and were met with pretty perfect racing temps: low 50s and overcast. The ground was wet but not drenched in mud, and while you moved, the temps were completely comfortable to wear a LS/tank and shorts; standing around, however, felt a little chilly in the absence of pants. Getting into the park, paying the $6 parking fee, and finding bibs was all really easy and straightforward, and after we ran a very abbreviated warm-up (about 1000m, ha), we three lined up in the grassy field starting area and were off. 

I haven’t run in Wunderlich and Huddart Parks since the only other time in my life I was there — for the 50k way back in 2014 — so I was pretty surprised at how much I seemed to remember about the parks, the topography, the layout, everything; maybe running pregnant there seared those memories into my mind. We had a pretty crowded start, particularly in the more narrow, singletrack-esque portions of the course, but within the first 5k, the field thinned out considerably, giving everyone breathing space. When I ran the 50k, I had very specific hiking and running strategies, but for the half, my only thought was run as much as you comfortably can. I was surprised (and admittedly, pretty floored!) to find myself gliding up all the ascents and churning in a lower gear to get up and over, up and over throughout the entirety of the race. 

These parks are so pretty to run in and so different from my usual confines at ARP. While ARP is wide open, without much canopy, and much different topographically, Wunderlich and Huddart are much more covered, with towering redwoods, and much greener in general. (The entirety of Wunderlich and Huddart that I’ve run in remind me of the South Rim switchback area in ARP, very Secret Garden-esque, or like the Enchanted Forest of Nisene Marks). I’m not sure a shit-eating grin ever left my face when I was running, save for the couple times runners in front of me tripped and fell over rocks or downed trees (remarkably, the 3 people I saw go down were all fine and and recovered quickly). Otherwise, I was so happy to be there. I love running fast, and I love running “in nature,” but I rarely do those two at the same time.  

Free and strong cycled on repeat in my head, my three-word mantras for the morning, and maybe except for the last couple miles when I was beginning to feel tired, I felt smooth and strong. I couldn’t help but hear O.A.R.’s “Free” the whole time I was running, a pretty perfect soundtrack to what I was feeling coursing through me throughout the race. Once we hit the single aid station on the course at mile ~6.7 or so, I began to bomb the downhills as much as I could and played a good game of tag with other women HM runners in my immediate vicinity. Seeing a fellow TSFM ambassador Charles on the course twice, serving as a course marshall, was a great pick-me-up, too; there’s always time for mid-race sweaty hugs when we see our friends, right? I felt like I was pulling energy from the beautiful surroundings and the other happy runners around me as much as I was from myself. I was running in a beautiful place with friends, keeping the effort high, and having so much fun in the process.   

It was a perfect way to end a very full year of racing. 

I finished smiling and held back from letting out an embarrassing WHOOOOOOOOO! at the finish line because I was just so, so happy to be there that morning. I wasn’t much interested in gauging my success race morning by what my watch told me; instead, I relied on my internal cues, the indescribable feeling in my gut that told me how the day went. My finish time was better than I thought it’d be — though again, I didn’t have any time goals for the day or even looked at my watch during the race (which, admittedly, would have been off anyway, since GPS cuts out in the park). More importantly, I finished with that satisfied feeling in my chest and my legs, that pleasant burn that’s better than any race day tchotchke, the feeling that we carry with us for the rest of the day that reminds us I just did that wonderful thing. 

Meredith and I talked about how maybe racing at Woodside each year — whatever distance we want that day, given what we may have raced earlier in the month — should be how we end our racing year, a new tradition that we should establish, beginning now. I’m keen to do this. Though this year wasn’t beset with oodles of accolades or PRs, I think what I’ll remember most about my racing in 2019 is how I felt in the moments, the little snapshots of the experience that have stayed with me all year long. It makes sense then that punctuating my year with Woodside couldn’t have been a wiser choice.

Happy 2019, welcome 2020, and lots of love.    xo Erin