Day 4,210—There is only Trying or Yoda Gives Terrible Advice and Part III of the OT 100!—

 

        Yesterday, I was listening to something that quoted Yoda saying his famous line: “Do or do not; there is no try.” I could be misinterpreting the meaning of this line, but it is probably the most harmful suggestion that anyone can offer someone who is struggling with a task. When we take Yoda’s approach, we connect what we’re doing with a certain outcome. If I am running a 100-mile race, I need to finish, or I have done nothing. If I am trying to start a new business, it needs to make money, or it was a waste of time.

        This approach puts added pressure on the individual and fails to demonstrate how the “results” are outside of one’s control. All you can do is try in most things in life, but at the end of the day, there are so many factors outside all of our control. I can think of a million ways that I would have worked just as hard, but not been able to finish the OT or any of the races I have done so far. When I am doing a difficult task, I focus on Becket’s advice about writing, which is basically, “To write is to fail, so learn to fail better.”

        I feel so bad for a runner who recently was forced to end her streak of over 4 years, Allyson. Her experience made me reflect on how all the success I have had in running and in life is mainly because of luck and nothing I did. All I could do was try; that’s all anyone can do, which doesn’t mean divorcing yourself of the outcome but just accepting that you’re not in control of everything. Yet, there is still a lot everyone does control (I prefer the word “influence” as opposed to “control”) so focus on those things.  

Part III of the OT: Making it to 47.2 Before Nightfall  

        The miles went by, and so far, the tape hadn’t come off yet, and I felt secure. I kept looking down at my feet, expecting that the tape would be gone or it would be shifting in ways that would make me worried, but it didn’t so far. The next 8.7 miles to Brooks Creek went by quickly for the first 4 miles, but then I slowed down as I realized how far the aid station was still. I thought about the positive nature of having an aid station so far away. It meant fewer stops to waste time that I didn’t have, so that was the big one. Also, so far, the weather has looked the same all day. It was cold but not that cold, and it had been looking like it was about to rain all day. The trail would have sections that were cleared of leaves, and you could see the ground easily to sprint, but then there were suddenly rocks and roots in every inch of the path. Small rocks, which made my ankle twist as I landed, and I felt the pain. More than once, I landed and connected the sharp edge of a rock with my toe, and I would want to shout out in pain. I didn't think I would start talking to my pain. Thanking my pain for being there to show me what was hurting, but not allowing it to overwhelm me. I could still run if my toe was broken, I told myself. This was nothing, just some sharp pain that would come and go.

        I was finally starting to pass some of the people who had been running close to me for the past few hours. I felt well ahead of them when I made it to the 40-mile aid station, but when I stopped, they had all caught back up to me, and some of them started back before I did. It was around 4 p.m., so I had two hours to make it 7.2 miles, which seems like an easy task normally, but all I could think about was how if the tape came off again and if I couldn’t get it on in a way that I could move, I would easily lose that time, but so far, so good. The only thing that worried me was all the stream crossings, which seemed to noticeably make the tape loosen and begin to slide. I saw Jake G. at this aid station, whom I hadn’t seen for hours. He had helped me with all my questions before the race and was part of the reason I signed up for the OT. It was his favorite race, and I could see why. It was run well, and the woods were pretty in the fall, especially with fewer bugs and animals out.

        He started before me, but I ate cup after cup of vegetable soup. I knew I should have headed out sooner, but I was so hungry all of a sudden, and I was already getting tired. When I started back on the trail, more than 6 people who I had passed previously were in front of me. Would I make it to 47.2 before nightfall? All I could do was try.