“You’ve got a really impressive running resume.”

Someone said that to me after a Facebook post a few months ago. One of the Crystal Springs RDs posted, introducing me as one of the registered runners.

I’m not one to own my accomplishments. An issue my boss and I go round and round about on every performance review.

But seeing it laid out like that. It’s not nothing.

So, it’s possible I rolled into Wythville a little overconfident.

Not, like, too confident. Because I’m pretty sure I returned from NYC with some sort of mystery illness. I’m thinking some form of mild plague from my rat run in. But I figured a half marathon with less than 2,000 feet of climbing shouldn’t be too bad.

Apparently I forgot that I haven’t actually run that far on trail since 2023.

My CCO has been telling some of our biggest customers that I’m an ultra runner. Like, not just the American ones, either. These people are from entire other countries. People around the world are under the impression that I’m an ultra runner.

Hopefully none of them are on Strava.

But a nice trail half is a good way to get back into the groove of things. And reclaim my ultrarunner status. So my CCO can stop spreading international lies.

It was promising at the start. Cold. Y’all. It was cold at the start of the race. I’d been told that Wytheville tends to be less weather evil. But I had goose bumps. From the actual cold.

Beautiful.

Picked up our race packets, which included a race bib with a personalized note on the back. And what may be my new favorite race shirt.

C-Run cautioned me to please try not to get lost. Which prompted RD to say that was impossible. The course was too well-marked.

Well, see, what you’ve done there is basically just asked someone to hold my beer.

“There’s precedent. A LOT of precedent.”

I’ve only recently been allowed on any trail by myself. And then only on the ones I’ve run a LOT of times. There’s basically a 50-run minimum for me to be able to test out of trail supervision for any given trail.

I’d never even heard of these trails before this race. Let alone been on them.

And if you haven’t been to Crystal Springs Rec in Wythville, allow me to highly recommend it. The trails are gorgeous. I don’t know if you’ve ever run on pure moss before. But it felt very much like running through someone’s living room. On their brand new carpet.

But also, much like North Fucking Mountain, this trail just goes up. Forever.

When we did finally hit the top of what I believe RD referred to as Sand Mountain. We were rewarded with a beautiful view. (Incidentally, I did the Sandman Half Marathon a few years ago. I’m not sure how it’s related to Sand Mountain. But it definitely didn’t provide me this view. Or any view. That I recall.)

We did spend an unreasonable amount of time choosing our rocks. To prove we went the whole way to the top. But some of us may have needed that time. To collect the oxygen. And give our hips a rest.

Because there are just rocks and roots strewn about everywhere on these trails.

When a race director refers to a trail as “technical,” they mean that shit is covered in ankle hazards and at least 75% of the field is going to cross the finish line with some blood in places.

And by the halfway point, my hips were absolutely over the technicality of the course. And tired of lifting my legs and feet up off of the ground. And I started thinking about how shocked I was that I hadn’t fallen yet. Which is when a rock grabbed my foot. And threw me down the trail.

It’s fine, though. Landed on my left knee and hand. Which is the side of my body that’s already in a solid state of deterioration. So, no real damage done. Beyond the damage already done.

But where the first half of the half is just up. The second half of the half is mostly just down. Providing no reason to stop and walk. And rest.

Thankfully, reason isn’t a strong part of my repertoire.

Around 10 miles in, GJB commented that it felt like the last miles of an ultra.

He wasn’t wrong.

As beautiful as those trails were. They beat the hell out of me. And when we hit the switch backs that offered a view of the finish line. The need to be finished was the only thing that kept my legs moving. The absolute pain and exhaustion had taken over every part of me.

And I was thanking all the things that I’d only signed up for the half. Because the thought of crossing the finish line and going back out for another loop. Or two? Nah. That would’ve been an automatic DNF.

One loop was all my body could have possibly managed yesterday.

Maybe next year I can try two.

If I can manage some hip replacements before then.

Because obviously there will be a next year. I’m a sucker for the best worst beautiful experiences. I do recommend y’all give it a sign up next year. If for no other reason than to experience running on wall to wall carpet in the middle of the woods.

I also appreciate C-Run announcing into a microphone to everyone that I’d made it. Without getting lost. As I crossed the finish line.

That was the real accomplishment.

Only 49 more times before I can run those trails unescorted.

https://www.crystalspringsultras.com/