The Year of the Loop

Don't just go run. Go run circles, loops, laps. Trek out on the same trail, amongst the same scenery, and see just how far (or mad) your mind will go.

That was my thought as I started out 2024.

I wanted to accrue races with a concentrated theme, something that would add up by the end of the year to deposit in my ultrarunning skill bank. A skillset that would allow me to learn more about running well and far, get better at my drop bag and nutrition needs, and allow me to lean on my problem solving skills without the cost of really be shit-out-of-luck on a point-to-point trail.

The Loop made good sense.

A looped race gave me the opportunity to have a "home base" with my gear, food, and resetting my mindset. It allowed anyone who was crewing me or supporting me to have a place to relax and not need to worry about the logistics of finding me along the trail at spread out aid stations. It divided the races up into smaller chunks -- "minis," I called each loop.

As I moved through this year, I also discovered firsthand the Challenges of The Loop.

At Elm Creek Backyard -- a last-runner-standing race of 4 mile loops -- I was under a time crunch. I had to complete each 4 mile segment in under an hour in order to get back onto the course for the next loop. If I missed the hour cutoff (which I did during my 18th loop), I was eliminated from the race. Well ... Conditions got sketchy. Overnight, rain and wind created a trail of slick, suctioned mud. Each loop took a greater toll on my mind. Each time I arrived at the finishline-that-wasn't-but-could-be, I was teased with the notion that I could stop anytime. That got the best of me.

At the Great Divide 100k, the altitude and elevation gain of Pikes Peak wriggled into my body over the course of the day. It was a tough race. Fortunately, I had one friend running the 100k with me, and another waiting to pace me on the final loop. Knowing that my friend was gutting it out on the trail -- and another was ready and waiting to run with me into the finish line -- kept me moving forward in this race. I finished, right after sunset, as the first place female -- my first ever trail ultra win.

The heat and humidity of Minnesota July nearly killed me in July as I ran the Afton 50k. A 2-looper, this course was rolling hills and a game of how many electrolytes I could recoup at each aid station. It was a relief to race shorter mileage; yet, upon crossing the crispy finish in a heat-zapped field, my body could not wait for a cold drink, the A/C car, and complete escape from the sun.

By the time I got to the Hell Creek 100mi -- a 20 mile exposed loop at Wilson Lake in Kansas -- I had learned some helpful tips for myself. Fresh socks and wipes in my drop bag at the Main Aid Station. Stocked baggies of the nutrition I would need to re-up my pack with each loop, all labelled. More than 1 playlist to choose from and headphones on me at all times. A bandana for ice. I thought I had my ducks in a row -- but, the kicker, the thing that zapped me and pressed me to drop out at 3 loops -- I did not have a friend or my partner there to keep me going. My Jeep was parked right there at the Aid Station. And just like that, my mind made up -- I dropped out of the race. (note: totally at peace with this decision)

As I put distance between myself and these looped miles, I have a deeper set realization: I do not need to do this sport to build a hefty, impenetrable endurance mindset. That's what I initially thought at the year's start, with my Ultrasignup page fresh with these 4 races in the cart. I'm going to build so much toughness, I remember thinking.

Instead, I know better what I want out of running Ultramarathons.

Sure, I want a tough mind and the wherewithal to overcome challenges. It's a huge reason I'm drawn to the sport.

But more so -- I want joy.

Companionship and care.

Beauty -- breathtaking, gorgeous, brilliant beauty.

And to do it all in a body I celebrate and treasure.

I want to see and experience beautiful places in this world, landscapes that jolt the system into slowing down and falling in love all over again. I want moments that thrill and inspire, but also just might bring me to my knees in delight. I want to loosen the pressure to perform and I want to open the gift of noticing everything around me.

In other words -- Loops be damned.

Next year, I am actively seeking Beauty and Joy.

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2025:

April - Elm Creek Backyard, 17x4ish mi loops (70.83 miles, 26th Overall)

June - The Great Divide 100k, 4x15mi loops (14:55, 1st Female, 5th Overall)

July - Afton Trail 50k, 2x15mi loops (5:38, 62nd overall)

Aug - Hell Creek 100mi, 3x20mi loops (DNF at 64 miles, only 3 men finished this race)