On June 10, 2018, less than a month after my 54th birthday, I registered for my first ultra-marathon, a 50K race in northwestern New Jersey taking place in November. It was quite a leap for someone who typically runs three to five miles twice a week.

While it seemed a long way off when I signed up, I quickly learned it’s advisable to have a six-month training plan and at least one regular marathon under your belt. I had neither. But there is something intoxicating about long summer days that seem endless and full of possibility. Sitting outside in the warm sunlight, I sketched out a five-month training plan in my bullet journal.

I stuck with it. I was unrelenting with the training, diligently monitoring each session. As the runs began to get longer in August, however, I had to learn how to fuel while on the trails. That meant carrying water in a belt pack and trying different foods mid-run. Through trial and error, I found that sweet potatoes were easily digested and a combination of raw chocolate and nut butter provided a necessary boost for the last miles.

My body felt great in the 75 degree temperatures and I felt satisfaction as the long runs increased to 18 and 22 miles, both personal records. In mid-September, and against conventional wisdom, I set out for a 26.2 mile run, feeling the need to get past the psychological barrier of running a marathon. I mapped out the course on a local bike path and was elated when my Fitbit watch clicked on the magic number.

I was within reach of the ultra-marathon distance and still had seven weeks to train.

But that’s when my enthusiasm started to wane and my body began to object to the hours pounding the pavement. It also became harder to stay mentally engaged. As October neared, I realized I was overtraining and dialed the long runs back a bit. I had already completed the several 20+ mile runs needed and focused instead on back-to-back lower double-digit workouts on the weekends. It eased the monotony.

I was happy to welcome November and the tapering phase. But the days were getting shorter and the weather colder, two of my least favorite things. The week leading up to the ultra was filled with nauseating adrenaline while testing out cold weather gear to address the predicted winter-like conditions.

But a curious thing happened the afternoon before the event. As I readied my food and packed my gear, I relaxed into the fact that I had prepared my body and myself as best I could for the race and all I needed to do was show up and give it my all. There was nothing I could do about the weather (cold) or the conditions (heavy rain the night before) – and I found some comfort in all the months of preparation, which was the one area I controlled.

While getting dressed the next morning, I applied a temporary tattoo on my inner right wrist that said “I can & I will,” a reminder of the determination and focus that was needed to finish a 31-mile run. But on the back of that same hand, I applied another one that read “Enjoy the ride,” which was really what the day was all about.

I didn’t see either of those reminders during the race. I was wearing gloves due to the wind chill, which was close to freezing at the start. It got colder as the day progressed. I did heed the advice, however.

I was present as I ran the course, feeling the faint sun rays on my face, watching the sky cloud over, being amazed by the snowflakes that started falling less than midway through, appreciating how the winter running tights were keeping my legs warm, exchanging pleasantries with the friendly runners as we passed one another, seeing texts of encouragement flash across my watch and having my friends at the finish line cheering me on.

It was a day and an accomplishment I’ll never forget.

Aside from a little soreness in my quads the next morning, I woke physically intact. Mentally, though, I really needed a break. I enjoyed a nurturing day of quiet time, healthy food and little activity. And for the first time in a very long time, I was watch-less – my trusty Fitbit purposely not attached to my wrist.

There was nothing to count.

Journal Reflections: Where might you benefit from taking a pause? Have you been mentally or physically pushing yourself and need to take a break? Conversely, have you put something on hold that needs to be re-engaged?

The Wisdom of Pausing