Canyonlands

We did it!

The Canyonlands Half Marathon in Moab, UT was held on March 21. Bryson, my life-long friend Kelly, and I all participated.

For the last few weeks building up to this race, it has seemed like everything that could go wrong did go wrong. I injured my iliotibial band on a training run. Then reinjured it falling on the ice in our church's parking lot. Next, our hotel reservations fell through. A few days before we were scheduled to leave, I sliced my foot open. Seriously. I was beginning to believe that there was some sort of Canyonlands curse at work! I was stongly tempted (multiple times) to drop from the 13.1 mile course, to the shorter 5 mile race held the same day.

But we did make it to the starting line in one piece. Somehow.

Coming into this race, I had few expectations. I knew my knee had some definite limitations-- particularly on this hilly course. As it was, I was pretty certain that I would have to take a few short breaks to stretch my ITB to avoid the dreaded knee blowout.

It turned out to be a fantastic experience.

I was able to hold a good pace for the entirety of the course, stopping a few times to stretch. I even had a little bit left in the tank by mile 12, so I was able to really work that last mile in. Crossing that finish line was one of the most satisfying feelings I have ever experienced-- perhaps, in part, due to the number of obstacles I had to overcome to get there. I finished in 2 hours, 17 minutes.

Bryson & Kelly experienced their own set of challenges in this race. Bryson set a lofty goal of breaking 2 hours, but was unable to hold the pace on the hills. He still finished at an impressive 2 hours, 11 minutes. Kelly, our veteran half marathoner, succumbed to a combination of altitude and asthma, finishing at a respectable 2 hours, 23 minutes.

This race taught me several things for which I am grateful. For example, few things in life ever go just the way you would like. Obstacles rear their ugly heads, and it can be easy to throw in the towel and hope for better luck next time. In some ways, life-defining moments are made in times like that. We are presented with challenges that seem impossible to surmount. But at the end of it all, it doesn't matter so much how fast we ran the course, or how many people we beat. What matters is that we finished. We didn't give up. We did the best that we could under the conditions that were present. That in and of itself is something to take pride in. And really, I think that applies to a lot of things in life.

The exhileration of running along the Colorado River beside sheer cliffs of red sandstone was indescribable. Each time I visit, I fall in love with Moab all over again. Thanks, B & Kel for joining me on this journey. I love you both more than I can say.