An Afterthought from Herman
I don't know if I'd ever felt better, physically, during a race than I did this year at the ITI 1000. But that's maybe 20% of the battle, as they say in ultras. The other 80%, mental, was initially clouded by generalized anxiety. Those first three days were an ongoing conflict with, perhaps, a lack of spaciousness in my work life, the saga of injury and illness that plagued my final build into the race, or something unknown. In the spirit of being transparent, I even talked to the host at Rainy Pass Lodge about hitching a ride out of there the next day, on a bush plane that had already been chartered for other dropouts. Importantly, however, I didn't follow through with quitting at that point, and I'm glad for it.
Day four of the race, I woke up a small handful of hours already behind Gavan Hennigan, and that's all I needed. I once again became the hunter, leaned into the lamented wind, and drove. Sometimes, it's as simple as that, although it certainly helps to pass other racers who have turned around because it was just "too much". That kind of shit turns me on and I double down; what terrors lurk in the distance?
I didn't stop driving until the top of Rainy Pass, at which point I took a (-40?) selfie and then jogged all the way down into the bottom of Dalzell Gorge, for 10 miles, outside Rohn. It was a beautiful day into evening that bolstered my heart and chased demons out of my head, driving them into the wind. I also captured my prey a few minutes shy of the checkpoint.
After a brief respite, I put eight hours on the competition from Rohn to Nikolai, executing the 75-mile stretch as a single push, which was always the experimental goal. Thierry Corbarieu had attempted the same last year, in his bid to pass and finish at McGrath before me. I strove to succeed where he had failed. Alas, success offered accompanying insight into what had unknowingly plagued me since Tuscobia 160, two months prior, and what may have been underlying my anxiety.
It was only in retrospect that I connected my acute ankle pain to something that had cropped up in my mind on the beginning of day two, also the beginning of my mind's wanderings into conflict. Indeed, the very same pain had initially come to the fore at Tuscobia, in the last miles, as both my ankle and my right knee blew up. The meniscus tear took all of my attention, however, and I thought not about the ankle until I arose from a crouch outside the turnoff to Bear Creek Cabin, en route to Nikolai. I knew more or less immediately that the next 700 miles would prove too much for what ailed me, if I wanted to have any kind of enjoyment from physical activity for the rest of 2024.
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"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush", I thought, as I crossed the finish line at Tuscobia, four hours ahead of the previous course record. I believe I knew then that I may have sacrificed a finish at ITI for what was available on a course with conditions begging to be leveraged. And I don't regret it, although I was devastated to quit at Nikolai... watching all of those puffy, exhausted faces embark out again, en route to the joy of a pursuit into the unknown, one by one for the next 30 odd hours before I could board a flight out. That was my first time quitting and hopefully my last.
Now, here we are. I gave myself three days of moping, but it's on to the next one. I spoke with RM Gear's Roberto to design and build my new sled kit, I've ordered the gear that I lacked during this year's race, I've received the kindness of Tim Hewitt and Thomas McGlade calling to make sure I don't give up the dream, and Mike Wolfe and I are dialing in the next two years of training to get me back to another Northern Route attempt of the ITI 1000 (please, Race Director Kyle!). All that said, as Jay Petervary knows, it's The Pursuit... all for the pursuit that we pick ourselves back up and move forward. The pursuit of life and love, which cover the bases of sport and friendship, is an idiosyncratically human endeavor, what it means to be alive, very alive at times. And that's what this whole deal is about, being very alive.
So, here's to The Pursuit! And cheers to the racer pressing on. Your kind pursuit is in my thoughts, wanderer, and I wish a continued expansion of your horizon, that your finish line may never, truly take form, although you may complete as many adventures as your heart desires. Strive on, friend.
