Skip to main content

DNF: Table Rock 50K

DNF is a hard pill to swallow, even if it's not your A, or B, or C race for that matter. More than just the initial disappointment and whatever caused the misfortune in the first place, DNFs cast a looming and lingering sense of defeat every time you think about the race, see that race shirt in the closet, and hear someone talks about the race. I hope I could report a race of triumphant perseverance, but this is not the case. 

Since I have written reports on my good races this year, I feel that it's important that I include this one, too. The short story is that I pulled my abductor muscle earlier this week, took two days off, hoped for the best, and toed the start line. When the increasing pain urged me to stop at the aid station at mile 14, I realized I could barely lift my leg up pass 45 degrees. At that point, I realized I had to either take the DNF, or finish the race with an injury.

Compounding the disappoint is the knowledge that I am not able earn my finisher's hoodie and award made by my friend, Derek. And to end this year with a DNF is very humbling. Never take running for granted, nor getting into a pair of pants, nor climbing into a bathtub.

Comments

  1. I love humbleness! Keeps it real.
    You are such an incredible athlete Phyllis!
    For an even better 2014!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ouch!! I do feel your pain!

    But you did the right thing! You are an amazing runner with many, many more races ahead of you!! You were just being smart. We ultra runners should be pushing our own personal limits . . . and those change with every run and every race.

    You did awesome and you KNOW you'll come back smarter and faster! You just may not get that hoodie you want!! Hand in there!! There will be more barriers that life will throw up in front of you . . . and you'll tear each one up!!!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

WV Trilogy - Part 1

Driving to Spruce Knob My experience at WV Trilogy is unimaginable. It wasn't just the run or the scenery, though both are spectacular - but more so my journey before and during the run, the emotions, the learning, and the tremendous love and support I get from friends and family. The last three days are not only a running adventure, but an opportunity of personal growth and defining moments which will outlast adrenaline or results. Each of the journal entry is written after the run on each day. I want to share it chronologically and hopefully could take you through my experience as I have experience it. (Thurs) Oct 11 at 8:19 pm -  In my dorm room, in bed. I'm still nervous about my shin splints and calf pain. Both legs were hurting this afternoon. There's nothing much I could at this point but just take everything as it is - pain, race, outcome... My job tomorrow is to simply show up and do what I can. I'm praying to open my heart and mind to whatever God has

Running on Empty

Running On Empty from Neil Webb on Vimeo . Production Company: Statically Indeterminate Productions Ltd. Filmed and Edited by: Neil Webb Running On Empty is a gut wrenching, yet heart-warming documentary short that tells the story of the lengths that one man will go to bring his six-year-old, quadriplegic son back to health. This 22-minute documentary marks the second film from 24-year-old, award-winning filmmaker Neil Webb. In September 2010, Webb teamed up with Blaine Penny; a 36-year-old Calgarian who was attempting to run a 100-kilometer ultra-marathon over several mountain passes in Alberta, in order to raise awareness for his son’s debilitating disease. Two years ago, Blaine Penny and his family were living a normal, quiet life until Blaine's four-year-old son Evan went in for a routine surgery to have his appendix removed. His appendix was fine, but he wasn't. Evan did not wake up from the surgery and fell into a coma. After Evan awoke from the coma 5 d

WV Trilogy - Part 2

(If you haven't read Part 1, it's here .) (Sat) Oct 13 -  Sunrise at Spruce Knob 6 a.m. start in the dark. My legs surprised me by being happier than yesterday. My heart is in better place as well. The first 6.7 mile goes up to Spruce Knob, the highest point in West Virginia. Part of this section was on fire road and I welcomed the faster miles. Steady progress was made in the first 20 miles or so until the long, long descent into Aid Station 3. As I have decided yesterday, I'd start the race, go from aid station to aid station, and re-evaluate my condition at each. I left Aid station 2 feeling good but then the long descent once again put doubts in my mind. Running reduced to little steps on jello-legs. Compression socks helped to contain the injury and pain, but the strength to support the pounding was still lacking. Soon, my knees started to hurt as well. At aid station 3, they told me I had 2:45 to make it to the next aid station before the cut-off. At the pace I