Sarah Lavender Smith

Rarely do races put me in a good, goofy mood from start to finish, but the inaugural Diablo Trail 50K last Sunday had that effect. Proof that I was having a great time came at around mile 28 in what turned out to be a 33.75-mile course. I was flying down the dirt and sandstone slabs of a steep slope with the lead woman, Beth Vitalis, in sight about a quarter mile ahead. We were running from a ridge toward emerald foothills flecked with wildflowers and a canyon filled with oak and pine.  The San Francisco skyline, Golden Gate Bridge and Mount Tamalpais sat on the horizon, far across the bay.

Beth and I had run together for more than half the course and then she picked up the pace, as did I, in the unspoken hope of breaking 6 hours. (Little did we know the “50K” would turn out to be a couple of miles longer than advertised.) We had spent the first third of the course bogging down in thick, heavy mud, and much of the middle third pressing against hurricane-force winds on ridgetops.

Thick, heavy mud caked on my shoes for the first 10 miles.

Suddenly and with a sickening sensation, I saw the ground rise and felt my body tumble like a snowball from an avalanche until my forearm and knee stopped the fall. (more…)

I woke up Sunday morning feeling I had a job to do: I had to run the 2009 Napa Valley Marathon at my goal pace or better. My brain, on some level of consciousness, must have known it was better to go on autopilot than to approach the race with any depth of thought or feeling.

Complications had resolved, anxiety abated. I had trained and planned. I slept and ate. I pooped. I was ready to go. (more…)