Navigating My Way through the Murky Waters of My Mid-Life Crisis without a Compass or a Map

Eleanor Roosevelt wrote “I do not think I have ever felt so strangely as I have in this past year…All of my self confidence is gone, and I am on edge though I was never better physically, I am sure.”

I remember studying socialization and the life course in the ‘Introduction to Sociology’ class I took during my freshman year at Southwestern College.  I was sitting in the front row listening tentatively and taking copious notes and my friend was a few rows back flipping through the most recent Cosmopolitan magazine while Dr. Escalera described the different stages of life.  He explained that while each stage of life was related to biological processes of aging; the life course is generally a social construction of the society we lived in. He told us sociologists define the adolescence stage as a period when individuals transition from childhood to adulthood. They start to gain independence, as much as a young 18 year-old college student is able to, and form their own identities from their parents. At that time I related to this stage the most because I certainly had all of the typical insecurities of a young woman my age and was going through the process of trying to develop my own identity.  I was leaving the 80s and childhood ideologies behind. I started growing out my Farah Faucet layers and let go of peg legged jeans and pleated pants.  I was a first generation college student.  I learned from my professors that I had choices.  I set my goals high, not only did I want to transfer and earn a bachelor’s degree I wanted to keep going and earn a doctorate degree (which I accomplished). 

Dr. Escalera also taught us about middle adulthood. He told us roughly between the ages from forty through sixty, people assess their actual achievements in light of their earlier expectations.  He said this was a time in ones life when they start growing older, face physical decline and other factors that come with aging.  Most people during this time assess whether or not if they reached their career goals, take a look at the price of career success, and harbor uncertainties they might have about their self-worth.  I recall thinking to myself during this part of the lecture ‘that will never happen to me. I will live my life to the fullest and I never regret my actions. I vowed that I would never stop and look back wistfully saying I wish I would have.’

I had such conviction and determination back then.  Despite the best intentions of my younger self, I sit here today trying to navigate my way through the murky waters of my mid-life crisis without a compass or a map. 

Early-Life Crisis

Before I talk about my mid life crisis I should mention the early-life crisis I went through right before my 31^st birthday. I remember it as vividly as if it were yesterday. As I reflect on that time period I realize instead of feeling invisible like Eleanor Roosevelt described, I had a false-sense of confidence. 

I was fearless, living in the moment, and out to conquer the world.  For the first time in my life I was in the position to make my own decisions and choices.  My choice was a shiny red MACH I mustang with personalized license plates:  XX♥PWR2.  Translation, girls love power too. I purchased it on a Saturday and realized by Monday that perhaps I had made a mistake. I kept the car for a few years.  Then one day I drove my dear friends and colleagues, Steve and Jason, to lunch in it. When we got back to the office they both said to me ‘Shelly, you drive this car like it’s a Honda.’ They were right, their words told me what I already knew.  I was spending a lot of extra money on insurance for a car that I didn’t really like or enjoy driving.  Ironically, I sold it to my Dad, who at the time was going through his own mid-life crisis. 

Although I regretted buying the car, I wasn’t too hard on myself.  I chalked it up to a learning experience that did not alter my life too greatly.  Fortunately, I made it through my early life crisis relatively unscathed.  Actually, in a lot of aspects, I ended up better than where I started before it began.   Don’t get me wrong.  The time-period between my early-life crisis and my mid-life crisis was far from perfect.  Life certainly had its ups and downs and bumps in the road.

Mid-Life Crisis

It’s really hard to describe how I ended up here or when I got here.  All I can say, now that I am here, amidst one of the most confusing times in my life and I am learning my sociology books only scratched the surface of this stage.  None of my sociology classes (did I mention I earned a bachelor of science and a masters degree in Sociology) prepared me for this roller coaster ride, nor did they tell me how to find my way off of it.   Most days I am stuck between feelings that I am floundering about to being hopelessly trapped in quicksand. 

As I reflect on different aspects of my life I do not have regrets about the choices I made in the past.  Overall, I am very happy about where I am in my professional and personal life.  I feel solid and secure in that regard.  My concern is not about decisions I made in the past; more about decisions I make today and how they will impact my life in the future. I worry more than ever about making choices that I may regret later.  Unlike my early-life crisis when I was carefree, I am more cautious.  Instead of taking action without worrying about the consequences, I overthink every move, so much so, that I end up doing nothing.

The best way to describe what I am going through is to describe the different areas of my life. 

Body—Physical and Emotional Changes

It’s no secret your body starts changing as you age. It’s a natural part of the process. In some regards the changes were subtle and I didn’t notice them right away.  Others I noticed immediately.  Right after my fortieth birthday I started noticing a few random coarse hairs growing on my chin.  Every year one or two more pop up, it’s like a garden of weeds growing on my chin.  Last December I started to notice dry patches of skin and new lines develop on my cheeks. It’s like they appeared overnight out of nowhere.  Foundation doesn’t seem to cover the blotches on my face and I definitely need to look into doing something about the veins on my legs.  I regret being so hard on my appearance and myself when I was younger. As mentioned in the 1997 MIT commencement address “enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.”  I wish I had appreciated my body more back then. 

Aside from physical appearance, a common theme for me during the past year has been injury and healing.  After months of battling a knee injury I had to give up wearing stilettos.  It pained me to see my beautiful heels sitting in the closet.  My shoulder and hip injuries slowed me down at crossfit and running.  Recovery was very slow as injuries during this stage of my life are a little more debilitating and take longer to heal.  It’s not like when I was younger and I bounced back more quickly. 

Then there’s Mother Nature.  I’ve mentioned this before; I gave up on the idea of having my own children when I was 37.   I made peace with that decision and have not had any regrets.  When I turned 40, I felt liberated and looked into having a procedure done to stop my monthly girl time and officially prevent me from ever having children.  I had everything scheduled and then I got scared when I read the reviews and horror stories.  Now that I am 44, I still get the monthly visit from my little friend. Honestly, I feel like it’s a big “F’ You” and cruel joke from Mother Nature. Although it’s physically possible to have children at my age, people do it all of the time, it is not realistic for me, and there are a lot of risks.  Nonetheless, I get the taunting and torturous reminder that it’s a possibility month after month. Looks like the joke is on me.

This leads me to another fun characteristic of being over forty.  Along with all of the other body changes, the hormonal changes have made me super emotional.  I was already a very sensitive girl. In normal situations I always wore my heart on my sleeve.  Now, my emotions are hyper sensitive.  If I were a super hero, my super power would be the ability to feel.  I have a heightened sense of empathy and compassion.  Happy or sad, anything that has to do with emotions brings tears to my eyes and I have no control over them.  I cry when I am driving, in meetings, during movies and concerts, when I am reading books and news articles.  Basically if any emotions are involved I cry.  Trust me this has led to some embarrassing situations. 

Career

I am fortunate to have my dream job. When I was 28 I decided I wanted to be a dean of curriculum. In August I celebrate 9 years of holding this position for one of the best community college districts in California. I have enjoyed opportunities working with some of the brightest stars in this area from community colleges throughout the state. 

A few years ago I couldn’t see myself doing anything else.  Then in 2014-15, I had an opportunity to service as the Interim Vice Chancellor of Instructional Services for my district. I knew the job was temporary when I took it because district policy prevented me from applying for the permanent position. I welcomed the opportunity to grow professionally.  What I didn’t really expect at the time was that I would be successful at it.  I received a lot of positive feedback, which set the expectation that I would expand my leadership role.  I put my name in the hat for a few positions and came up empty handed, sad, and discouraged.  I didn’t make it past the first round for one position, I was a finalist for the second one, and a high contender for a third one, but it didn’t work out for reasons beyond my control. 

The lesson learned is I can’t get there from here. I need some other experiences if I want to move up the career ladder.  This leaves me stuck with some tough decisions. Do I stay where I am at and risk never being able to move up, possibly preventing me from reaching highest potential in my career, or do I try for other experiences?  Am I willing to leave my family, friends and the life I have built in San Diego?  I really struggle with this decision and honestly and I do not know what I am going to do.  I know what I need to do, but I just don’t know if the benefits outweigh the costs.  I wonder if I will regret my decision or indecision later in life. 

Moving—Do I Stay or Do I Go?

Last year around this time I started making plans to sell my townhouse I’ve lived in for 15 years and buy a small house in my neighborhood. I was really enticed by the idea of having a bigger backyard for my beagles, space for house concerts, and entertaining. Everything was set and the day I was supposed to put my house on the market I got scared and backed out. At the time I didn’t know what was going to happen with my work situation, it was possible I was going to move.  Additionally, the thought of dealing with a house instead of a townhouse seemed exciting, yet so daunting and overwhelming. 

Here I am a year later and I am more confused about this decision than I was before. A big part of me wants to do it, especially when I see houses for sell in the neighborhood I have been looking at, but another part of me is scared. I start thinking; do I really want to take on that additional responsibility, additional maintenance and burdens that go along with owning a single family home?  Do I really want to put myself in debt that much longer? I bought my townhouse when prices were much lower.  Although I will earn more from the sell, I will spend more for an equivalent house.  I could stay where I am and pay it off faster and not have to worry about a mortgage when I get older.  I also think about my career, it’s still possible I will leave San Diego. 

Mortality

I learned about death at a very young age when my grandfather passed away. Since that time I’ve lost a lot of very important people in my life, but honestly, it’s only been within the past few years I’ve really embraced the reality of death. I think that’s part of the aging process, you become more aware of mortality. It’s not just an unfortunate thing that happens to other people, you embrace the harsh reality that someday you will die and in most cases you don’t get to choose when or how.  No one really leaves his or her house in the morning thinking I may not come home tonight, but it happens every day. I remember two years ago my neighbor passed away unexpectedly. I saw him at the End of Summer 4 mile run just two weeks before he died. It was shocking because he seemed so healthy.  Then last year there were a lot of wrong-way driver deaths.  So many people were just going about their normal life only to get wiped out by a wrong-way drunk or high driver on the freeway.  After a rash of incidents I tried not to drive at night, but then realized it was happening during the daytime and early morning hours. Jean de La Fontaine wrote, “a person often meets his destiny on a road he took to avoid it.”  I try not to put myself in harms way, but accept the fact anything is possible.  Since I am single, I really need to stop putting off writing a will and getting my affairs in order.  I think I avoid it because it feels so official and honestly it’s scary.

Being Single

This is probably one of the most challenging areas of my life that I am struggling with during my mid-life crisis.  If you’ve followed my blog you know I have failed miserably in this area. I just never seem to get it right.  I will try to describe my struggles in this area, but honestly, you won’t really know how I feel unless you’re standing in my shoes.  There are so many competing forces that make it so difficult for me. 

First, I never really thought I would end up traveling this journey through life on my own. True, I have dear friends and family, but it’s not the same as having a life-partner (or at least what I imagine it would be like).  Being childless was a lot easier for me.  I think that is mainly because my heart was not completely set on having children of my own. I always expected that I would find my soul mate. 

Secondly, we live in a society that makes it very challenging, especially for a woman, to be single. A few weeks ago I bought a solo ticket to a concert to hear one of my favorite bands sing.  The next morning I received an email from the organizers asking me if it was a mistake that I bought one ticket. I know in her mind she was just trying to be helpful, but for me it was another painful reminder of my solo life.  I immediately felt like a big freak and started crying (a curse of my super power….the ability to feel so intently).  Most days I take being single in stride, if I want to do something I do it, even if it means going alone, but incidents like this one really test my strength and character. 

I know the times have changed and there are a lot of single people in our society, but old-age ideals are hard to break. When I reflect on why this is so hard on me I realized from the time I was a young girl, I was socialized to believe that a women’s status is primarily based on her relationship with a man. I am constantly battling between what society has taught me and the expectations of others, and myself for that matter.  In all of the fairy-tales I read, the good girl got the prince. Think about it, in Cinderella, the girls that did not get the prince were the evil step-sisters or the villains or mean girls in other stories. So of course, this makes me wonder...what is wrong with me? 

When people (mostly men) hear that I am single and have been single most of my adult life they always ask the same question “why are you still single?”  Or they say “you’re so pretty, smart, successful, and sweet, I am surprised someone hasn’t snatched you up.”  I also hear from my female friends, “he’s not good enough for you, you just haven’t met the right guy” or “quit looking, you will meet him when you least expect it.”  The only thing unexpected that has come from a guy that I have met when I wasn’t looking is how he has the ability to come in and turn my otherwise happy world completely upside down and leave me slightly more shattered, jaded and broken-hearted than I was before. Shame on me for that one, I am a fool every time, and have hope that it will possibly end up differently. 

So this is my year to make peace with being single.  One of the first steps for me in this process is to deconstruct the wall, or I should say fortress, I built along the pathway to the chronicles of my jaded heart.  It helps when I reflect on failed relationships and heartbreaks.  Looking back I realize although I learned an important lesson from each one and they helped me become the person I am today, I also would not be the woman who I am today had they stayed.  Truth be told, the ones who stay don't really have a chance either.  That fortress I've built is built around my jaded heart is unbreakable.  

Forgiveness and letting go has also played a big role in this process for me too.  Actually it’s a big lesson I learned last fall when I agreed to have dinner with FBI guy, one of the biggest heartbreakers of all.  I'll never forget when we were breaking up and he said to me "I wasn't cheating, I was falling in love."   During dinner I discovered the bitterness I harbored all of those year and incidents I couldn't seem to let go of were things he couldn't even remember. 

Along with tearing down walls, I am learning to be happy and accept being single. It’s not easy that’s for sure.  Embracing being single is like trying to spin the world the other way.  For whatever reason this is my path. Fortunately, Randi Driscoll reminds me “If the shoe doesn’t fit don’t break the glass trying…”

Finding my Way

So you’re probably wondering how am I finding my way out of  my mid-life crisis?  Honestly, I don’t know. I am taking it one day at a time.  When I was going through my early life crisis I had Ed(my battle with eating disorders) as my crutch to get me through and numb the pain.  Now it’s more challenging, almost a double whammy. Since I battled Ed, I no longer stuff my feelings. I have to deal with them and hit them head on.  This coupled with my hormonal changes and the super powers that go along with them I feel everything much more intensely than I ever did in the past.

Music has really helped me sift through everything and find clarity.   My dear friend Eve just released her CD “See Me With Your Heart.”  Ironically she wrote it when she was going through her own mid-life crisis.  Her songs have really helped me through this.  “Beautiful Dreamer” has helped me learn how to dream again. Fearless Heart has helped me break through my barriers.  Randi Driscoll’s new song “Cinderella Left the Ball” reminds me I have a choice in the dating madness game.  Listening to Nathan Welden sing “Live Your Song” reminds me no matter how confusing it may seem at times, life is a gift that can never be taken for granted. 

Tears are also helping me through this process.  I cry and I cry a lot.  I know this may sound like a symptom of depression, but it’s not like that. It’s deeply healing and cathartic.  It reminds me I am alive.

Finally, I turn to the trails. Surprisingly as I have lost all of my confidence in all other areas of my life, I have no fear when it comes to running. I signed up and finished a tough 50k in April and I just signed up for one of the most challenging 50-mile races ever in November.  For some reason I am not worried about failure and test my limits almost waiting for it to happen. Running is my salvation.

Shelly's Ultra Playlist

Close friends know when I’m not solving the curriculum issues of the world, chasing after three naughty beagles, going to CrossFit, attending personal training, or running they can find me front and center at a local house concert enjoying music with good friends. 

Running is the best of all worlds.  I’ve pondered many curriculum issues and life issues for that matter, during those long miles along the trail or the street.   I’ve also turned to music to help motivate me and get me through those miles.  I’ll spare you my thoughts on curriculum for now, but wanted to share some of my favorite songs from independent artists you may not be familiar with. 

Check it out on Spotify:  https://play.spotify.com/user/12129479953/playlist/08VMZJinWacjzOb0eQB0M5

Go Cowyboy Mouth 

Boxcar Shawn Rolhf and the Buskers   

Run Michael Tieran

Still Have a Long Way to Go  Eve Selis 

Little Wars Eve Selis

Run Sleepy Man Banjo Boys 

Runnin’ for the Texas Line Berkley Hart

Killkenny Man   The Rugburns

Stop the Train Eve Selis

Tear this old House Down Eve Selis

Friend of the Devil  Tim Flannery

Glad to be Alive Cowboy Mouth

Kerry Town Tim Flannery

Long Road Home  Eve Selis

Three Ring Circus Tim Flannery and the Lunatic Fringe

Altering Expectations The Ginger Runner

The Lessons We Learn The Ginger Runner

The Accidental Runner—My Journey to an Ultra Marathon (Race Day)

I went in a marathoner and came out an ultra trail runner…. I am humbled and forever changed ~Shelly L. Hess 

Race Day—Oriflamme 50k

No matter how many marathons I’ve ran, race day is always a little nerve racking and my anxiety that morning was 10-fold.  I set my alarm early and actually woke up 10 minutes before it was due to go off. There wasn’t time to hit the snooze button, I jumped out of bed and started my pre-race routine.  I fed the beagles (I have 3), ate my breakfast, got dressed, prepared my hydration pack with Tailwind, and checked my car at least three times to make sure I had everything I needed—shoes, socks, gaiters, Camel Bak, sunscreen, peanut butter packs, pretzels, salt packets, Cryoderm for my hip, and Kool-n-Fit for my calves. 

I left my house around 4:00 am as I had planned. During the hour drive from my house my mind wandered back to my first day of kindergarten.  I was a very shy and timid girl. I was afraid of the world, and going somewhere new by myself absolutely terrified me.  My sister walked me to class that first day and all I remember was running after her down the hallway crying and pleading with her not to leave me.  Reflecting back on that moment I was in awe of how far I’ve come.  I was also wishing my sister was with me because I felt that same sense of nervousness and fear of the new experience I was about to encounter.  I was worried about being out of my element, not fitting in, not being good enough to be there.  I was also nervous about the trail.  Under different circumstances I wouldn’t have started out the race with such a negative Nancy attitude, but I was mentally prepared for a DNF.  Physically I felt better and my knee and my hip seemed to be healed, but I knew there was a possibility the injury would rear its ugly head and I wouldn’t be able to finish. 

After the long drive up the winding hills to Julian, I finally got to the start line. There were a few other cars already parked when I arrived.  It was pitch black (what I like to call the dark dark…. nighttime without city lights and streetlights). Everyone was bundled up. One thing I’ve learned is you can’t choose the weather on race day.  A cold rainstorm had swept through San Diego County that weekend.  The cooler temperatures were welcomed. Even the rain before the race was nice because the sandy areas were a little more compacted than usual.  I just hoped the rain held off until later in the evening as predicted (fortunately Mother Nature was on our side and it did).

 I sprayed on sunscreen and took advantage of one last opportunity to pee before I went over to pick up my bib. I nervously told the crew who was checking us in that it was my first ultra and first trail run and then I asked them if they needed my ID,  I the fact that I was a newbie was apparent to them because they said they don’t check IDs, they trusted us.  It actually made perfect sense, who in their right mind would willingly run that kind of distance for someone else, plus it’s a really small tight-knit community where everyone knows your name. 

I put my race shirt and the adorable beanie they gave us in my car and lined up at the start with the other early starters.  I was pleasantly surprised and relieved when I saw a familiar face—Yen.  She was one of the pacers during the race where I got my marathon PR.  I don’t think she remembered me right away, as a pacer during the road races I’m sure she meets a lot of people.  To me it was like a celebrity sighting. I took advantage of the opportunity to let her know what an impact she had on me.  I immediately thanked her for helping me get my marathon PR during Surf City 2016. 

We all gathered around the start and waited a few minutes. Then John, the race director, said go and we and we were off.  I found my place towards the back of the pack behind Yen.  I was comfortable with her pace, I knew if I could stick with her I would have a strong chance of finishing.  She truly was my angel that day. 

We were well into the first mile before I realized I didn’t turn on my music. I don’t know if it was my excitement about seeing Yen and getting started or my nervousness about this new challenge I was taking on. My first ultra and my first trail race.  I’m still surprised I forgot to turn on my music. It’s my tradition to start every race listening to Cowboy Mouth’s song “Go.”  It’s comical, I had read a few articles where the authors recommended runners try running without music. The thought of it always seemed impossible to me before.  Something magical happened on the trail.  I quickly realized I didn’t need to hear the music; I just took in my surroundings. In fact I didn’t even turn on my iPod until mile 19 when we started the climb back up the hills (I’ll get back to this). 

Yen and I stayed together. We chatted off and on about different races, how nice the course was, and she gave me a little bit of insight of what to expect.  Around mile 5, I was following behind her and started admiring her gaiters.  As I was thinking to myself, so that’s how you put them on, I suddenly realized I had forgotten mine.  I was bummed. I did all of that research and finally found a pair that worked for me and I left them in the car.  I tried not to let it get me down.  I decided I would just deal with it. 

We ultimately made it to the first aid station.  Everyone was so friendly and helpful.  I was very grateful for their hospitality.  I didn’t need water; I still had Tailwind in my pack.  I ate a small piece of banana and we were off.  We started our descent down into Oriflamme Canyon.  I didn’t really realize how big the hill was while we were going down.   We were almost to the bottom of the first hill when the first of the elite runners passed us.  We cheered him on and he cheered back.  Everyone was very supportive as they ran ahead of us.  It felt familiar and safe, like being in the CrossFit community. 

Once we made our way down the first hill the course was flat for a short period of time. Then we started making our descent down the second hill, the one I had read about in so many blogs posted by other runners. No words or pictures can describe how intense it was.  While many runners were breezing by us and taking advantage of going downhill, Yen and I paced ourselves so we wouldn’t slip and fall.  I welcomed that strategy. I didn’t want to do anything to aggravate my knee or my hip. 

Once we reached the bottom we started running along the desert floor. It was sandy, but as I mentioned earlier, the bottom layer was pretty compacted from the rain.  Just as I was getting used to running in the sand out of nowhere I felt an excruciating pain on my leg near my ankle. I looked down and noticed a huge cactus ball aka jumping cholla had made its new residence on my leg.  I immediately panicked and tried to dislodge my new stowaway, but realized that wasn’t going to work because the spines were so sharp and painful. I was looking for something to help give me comfort so I could pull it off when Yen suggested she use her walking stick. At that point I didn’t care how she got it off as long as it was removed. She started swatting it and each time she did I felt it start to come off.  It was a mix of pain and relief as the barbed wire like spines were released from my skin. I am pretty tough and can endure a lot, but needles have a way of breaking me down!  I don’t even like to get a TB test for work.  I was a damsel in distress and started crying. Right about the time Yen had successfully removed the ball of spines from my leg two really handsome runners  (special thanks to my heroes #99 and #44).  stopped to assist.  Blood was gushing from my leg.  Yen pulled out a napkin before I was able to grab a Kleenex from my backpack.  Fortunately one of my other rescuers had tape.  He immediately started bandaging me up.  Once I was taken care of they started running again.  I regained my composure and pride, and then Yen and I started running again.  We were only at mile 12…. we still had a long way to go. 

We continued to make our way through the desert floor. Everyone at the aid stations was so friendly and supportive. Everyone was surprised I chose Oriflamme as my first 50k.  Most of the volunteers runners or race directors.  Yen introduced me to a lot of race directors that day. I left the race with a list of others to run. 

Yen and I made good time; happily we made it to the turn around before the cut off.  As we started to make our way back Yen warned me it would take us longer because of the incline.  I was very cautious was we crossed back through what I now call the trail of the evil needle bombs aka jumping chollas. 

Before I knew it we were at the base of the infamous hill. Words cannot describe the long and winding steep ascent out of Oriflamme Canyon and pictures don’t give it justice so I’ll talk about strategy.   As we started our way up I decided it was time for reinforcement and I took out my iPod.  Listening to music was like having good friends along the way cheering me on…. I was ecstatic to hear a new favorite, Eve Selis singing, “I still have a long way to go.”  Yen and I just kept moving up the hill at a nice steady pace, one foot in front of the other.  Every once in awhile I looked down, just long enough to try to capture the perfect picture.  I quit looking up because whenever I thought we were almost to the top, I realized it was like mirage in the desert—a façade just teasing, taunting, and challenging us. 

When we reached the top where we were greeted with a refreshing box of water bottles strategically placed there just in case we needed a boost until we reached the next aid station.  Yen was surprised there was so much water left. Runners weren’t drinking as much because it was so cool that day.

The trail flattened just for a brief period of time and then we were making the climb up the second hill.  It was much different from the first one, challenging in a different way.  We were greeted at the final aid station with hot soup and ginger ale.  Fortunately we made it there before the cut off and were allowed to continue to the finish.  We were ready to take on the last six miles of “rolling hills.”  Honestly, those last few miles seemed like the longest part of the race. Physically I was feeling fine, it just seemed like we were close to the road we needed to cross, but the trail led us in a long parallel direction.

After what seemed like eternity we finally crossed the road.  It was just a short mile to the finish.  As we were heading back I started looking for my BCBG hooded packable jacket that I had tucked away in a bush. I had read about that trick in another runner’s blog.  Even though I labeled it, I learned the hard way I should have brought a less attractive jacket that I didn’t care about. Despite my search efforts I did not find it.  (I even went back after the race to look for it.  I was sad and disappointed, but rationalized losing it by thinking whoever took it needed it more than I did. )

 

Crossing the finish line was monumental.  I had done it—I was officially an ultra marathoner.  I’m sure this has been said before, but my words sum up my experience from running the Oriflamme 50K:

I went in a marathoner and came out an ultra trail runner…. I am humbled and forever changed ~Shelly L. Hess