Saturday, November 7, 2015
Oh, Canada. Oregon Coast 30/50k report.
It took Faron (volunteering at the aid station) and a random stranger (a French-Canadian man, distance runner, and aid station pep-talker) to convince me not to quit. I wasted a good 45+ minutes at this aid station feeling sorry for myself. Then, about 8 minutes before the cut off (where they pull sorry suckers like me off the course), I got some kind of 'Chariots of Fire' sort of inspiration. I thank both Faron and the French guy for not letting me be lame. They were not really convinced that I was unable to continue running, and they let me know their opinions in subtle (and not-so-subtle ways). I choked down as many potato chips and PB & Js as I could and peeled myself out of the mental funk I was in, and left the aid station. I finished the race, undoubtedly the worst spit times of my life, but glad that I didn't succumb to a DNF. Not yet.