I can do hard things . . . and you can, too.
Written by Kimberly Hall
In August of 2020, I had this crazy idea. All of my road races in 2020 had been cancelled due to COVID-19, but a handful of trail races were still scheduled. I decided I would run a 50K (otherwise known as an ultramarathon) on a trail! (Due to the pandemic, trail races typically have a limited amount of people, stagger their start times, require them to wear their masks, and encourage them to social distance.) The marathon was the longest distance I had ever run, and I had never run a race on a trail—so this was a big deal for me!
When I set the goal, I was super excited for a few reasons. This was a new and exciting challenge—not just running a trail race, but running an ultramarathon too—and I missed running races. Also, I’d be running this race with my significant other, and I was looking forward to training with him and experiencing our first ultramarathon together! This was going to be difficult, but I looked forward to it.
Just two and a half months later, I was mentally ready to run thirty-two miles! (A 50K is usually thirty-one miles, but this race would consist of four eight-mile loops.) My weekly runs had been great, and I felt strong. To be prepared, though, I thought we should train on the terrain the race would be on, so we headed to the trail for an eight-mile run. My first training run on the trail was a disaster. I fell once, and I almost fell so many times that I lost count. I was ready to quit training. This was too hard, and I couldn’t do it. I was clumsy enough when I wasn’t preparing for a trail race, so why in the world did I think I could run thirty-two miles on a trail? These critical thoughts played over and over again in my mind.
I called a couple of friends to whine about the time I fell on the trail, how hard it was to train, and how I wasn’t doing the race anymore. One friend (who’s run two hundred-milers) reminded me that I had to slow down my pace and truly enjoy the journey. Another friend reminded me that it was okay to walk when I needed to. My significant other reminded me that we would finish the race, even if we were last. I took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and decided to get my mind back in the game. I continued training for my ultramarathon, because darn it . . . I can do hard things!
I literally had to talk to myself and remind myself who I was. I’ve done so many hard things in my life, so I was determined that this one would not beat me. To feel more comfortable with running trails, I scheduled more runs on the trail solo. I got comfortable with slowing my pace down tremendously and walking more. I had to focus more on where my feet would land. Running slower gave me a power that made me feel that I could run forever. I was treading in new territory, and I was loving every minute of it. Training went wonderfully, and I was ready to run the race set before me.
On race day, I was prepared to hit the dreaded Wall. The Wall usually occurs somewhere around Mile 20, and typically it forces me to slow down (and sometimes walk). With friends under a tent cheering me on at every eight-mile loop, I was pumped. My significant other and I started together, but we decided we would run our own races independently and not hold each other back, so we were separated in Loop 3 (Miles 17-24). I was running solo for a while, but I felt great. So great, that it scared me. I thought to myself, Shouldn’t I be tired? Normally my legs feel like bricks towards the end of a race, but I felt good. I was at Mile 28 wondering where the wall was. As I finished the last mile of the race, I was so happy with myself, with my performance, and with my determination to finish. It reminded me that I truly can do hard things.
Sometimes I think we forget how strong, powerful and determined we are. Whatever your hard thing is, I hope you push through your wall and do it! You are capable of more than you think.