Running Towards Yourself
It’s true, I’ve always loved to run.
Running itself though sometimes can feel mentally, physically, and emotionally challenging. During a normal long run, I’d become accustomed to everything from blisters, terrible sunburns, and heat rash to lost toenails, tendonitis, and terrible stomach issues. I thought I had seen it all and would be well prepared for my next big physical challenge - 106 kilometer (63 mile) Tarawera Trail Run in Rotorua New Zealand.
The Tarawera Trail Run is renowned within the running community for its beauty, hills, and friendly atmosphere. I figured this would be a perfect introduction into ultramarathon running! I signed up and kept leveling up my training over the next year.
Finally race day came, I felt mentally prepared and emotionally excited as I knocked out the first 20 miles with ease. I was a little over half way through the massive trail run (around mile 35) and started to enter what is affectionately referred to as “the pain cave”. Elite runners from all over the world have coined the pain cave as the place where champions are made and demons are battled.
The pain cave feels like despair, immense discomfort, heart break, and chaos (+ any other words that evoke physical and mental hardship). The only thing you want to do is flee, turn around, beg for forgiveness from the running gods, and stop running. I ran, walked and hobbled with these feelings. I cried, laughed hysterically, talked to myself, and then weighed my options.
Do I hang out in the pain cave or call it quits? Do I fight for that medal or try again another year?
By mile 42 or so I realized the only thing to do was run, just like I had been doing all these years. I committed to taking a chisel to the pain cave and chipping away one mile at a time.
Finally by mile 55 there were moments of ease. I was still in immense pain, but I experienced clarity and gained more control over my limbs. My pace picked up again and I crossed the finish line as the sun was setting in Rotorua. Finally, a little over 12 hours of running was over. I had done the thing.
The Tarawera Trail Run reminded me why I run. Running is an opportunity to come back to yourself. To face challenge and discomfort head on and trust you have the ability to make it out to the other side. Running makes me whole.
I’m forever grateful to Tarawera, the staff, volunteers, and crew members who made this opportunity available to runners like me from all over the world. I’m looking forward to my next ultra-trail run in 2026 and what learnings it will prompt.
Running itself though sometimes can feel mentally, physically, and emotionally challenging. During a normal long run, I’d become accustomed to everything from blisters, terrible sunburns, and heat rash to lost toenails, tendonitis, and terrible stomach issues. I thought I had seen it all and would be well prepared for my next big physical challenge - 106 kilometer (63 mile) Tarawera Trail Run in Rotorua New Zealand.
The Tarawera Trail Run is renowned within the running community for its beauty, hills, and friendly atmosphere. I figured this would be a perfect introduction into ultramarathon running! I signed up and kept leveling up my training over the next year.
Finally race day came, I felt mentally prepared and emotionally excited as I knocked out the first 20 miles with ease. I was a little over half way through the massive trail run (around mile 35) and started to enter what is affectionately referred to as “the pain cave”. Elite runners from all over the world have coined the pain cave as the place where champions are made and demons are battled.
The pain cave feels like despair, immense discomfort, heart break, and chaos (+ any other words that evoke physical and mental hardship). The only thing you want to do is flee, turn around, beg for forgiveness from the running gods, and stop running. I ran, walked and hobbled with these feelings. I cried, laughed hysterically, talked to myself, and then weighed my options.
Do I hang out in the pain cave or call it quits? Do I fight for that medal or try again another year?
By mile 42 or so I realized the only thing to do was run, just like I had been doing all these years. I committed to taking a chisel to the pain cave and chipping away one mile at a time.
Finally by mile 55 there were moments of ease. I was still in immense pain, but I experienced clarity and gained more control over my limbs. My pace picked up again and I crossed the finish line as the sun was setting in Rotorua. Finally, a little over 12 hours of running was over. I had done the thing.
The Tarawera Trail Run reminded me why I run. Running is an opportunity to come back to yourself. To face challenge and discomfort head on and trust you have the ability to make it out to the other side. Running makes me whole.
I’m forever grateful to Tarawera, the staff, volunteers, and crew members who made this opportunity available to runners like me from all over the world. I’m looking forward to my next ultra-trail run in 2026 and what learnings it will prompt.