Approximately one year ago, I graduated from college. Although I did not participate in the commencement ceremony, I was done with my college requirements and tossed into the adult world of searching for that “all-important” job, adjusting to the “grown-up” life, and handling financials in the form of repaying those dreaded student loans.
Here I am now, scrolling through endless posts about graduation. Graduates are posting about their happiness for finally being done school. Two posts down my news feed, the same person is posting about their sadness for being abducted from their college social life and all the “unforgettable late nights” they’ll be craving in a few weeks. Oh honey, if only I can tell you what else is going to change in the next few weeks….the next few months…the next year. Welcome to the real world that everyone has warned you about for the past 22 years of your life.
Being a college graduate is far from easy – at least my experiences this past year can vouch for that. We think that when we graduate we need to find that one job that encompasses all that we’ve been educated for. I can honestly tell you that unless you are the luckiest person in the entire world and all the stars have aligned in your favor, you aren’t immediately going to find that one job that fits you just right. Honestly, it’s probably going to take you a lot longer than you think to find a job that you enjoy in every aspect.
In the past year since graduation, I’ve had 3 different jobs. I’m on my 4th now actually. The first two jobs had nothing to do with my college education but I worked them because I needed a source of income. Even though my third job had potential to be related to my college degree, my mental health was struggling. I was in an environment that thrived on people with my college education, but a position wasn’t available for me to actually use my schooling. Instead, I was sitting at a receptionist desk staring at a computer screen and saying hello/goodbye to everyone that walked by my desk. I was put in situations in which I felt paranoid for my safety. Through all of this and more, I resigned.
Here I am, on my fourth job since graduation. I’m self-employed now and I help out with my family business. I am a health coach seeking more and more clients to work with (I currently have a consistent four). I am an aspiring occupational therapist who will be applying to graduate school this upcoming fall. I am craving knowledge. I am craving a better career path for myself. I am craving opportunities to work hands-on with individuals who aspire for continued independence. I am a limit-tester and goal-seeker.
Post-college life is by no means easy. Yes, you don’t have to take exams on a weekly basis. Sure, you most likely don’t have papers to write. Of course you don’t have to sit in 90 minute lecture halls trying not to doze off. But there’s going to be more challenges ahead of you. These such moments might make you question your confidence. These moments might knock you down and hold you down. There will be other moments though that lift you up and make you feel invincible.
There will be speed bumps. There will be walls you have to break through. There will be hard choices to make. There will be decisions that you will ponder for days only to feel like you should’ve been given a map after graduation just to understand the road called “life”. Although it may seem that each decision you make seems to be getting harder and harder, each decision you make can be changed by making another decision. The rest of your life will be decision after decision after decision.
Never limit yourself. Never value your worth based on the recognition you do not receive. Never sacrifice your mental health for other people’s ignorances. Never give up your daily happiness because of a job that you force yourself to get up for day in and day out. Never stop limiting your future. The world we live in today is full of potential. Don’t be afraid to take risks. Work hard for what you want most in life and trust that everything will work out somehow, someway.
There is no clear cut definition for success. My success will be different than your success but I assure you that success will come to you. Success might come to you at a time that you least expect it to. Success will always be something to strive for. Congratulations class of 2017….remember to value your happiness, never settle for less than what you deserve, and always always ALWAYS strive for what you want the most in your life; life is too short to be unhappy, do what you like and like what you do.
Last year, I attended the Hyner View Trail Challenge merely as a guest to cheer on my dad and a bunch of friends as they raced through the mountains. However, exactly 9 days ago, I finished my first ever Hyner 25k. I crossed the finish line with a huge smile on my face and a new sense of accomplishment for a race that one year ago I was terrified to sign up for. This race boosted my confidence, gave me a new appreciation for the trail running community, and left me on a runner’s high for days after I had crossed the finish line. Let me begin this recap the day before the race so all you readers can get the full digitalized Hyner experience.
Friday morning Josh and I prepared to leave for Hyner. We loaded up my brother’s truck with our camping gear, food for the weekend, the basic necessities for personal hygiene, and layers of clothes. (side note: we were driving my brother’s truck up to Hyner because Josh’s Jeep desperately needed a mechanic’s attention and my little ‘ol Rav 4 just can’t handle mountainous hills anymore) We left Josh’s house a little after 10 AM, made a few stops on our way out of New Jersey (we checked to make sure my Altra Lone Peaks were packed in the truck three times before we left the roads of NJ), and before we knew it we were headed straight down the PA Turnpike towards the mountains.
After stopping at the Wawa before Route 80, we continued on our way towards Lock Haven. Miles and miles later, we arrived in Lock Haven. This would be the last town of cell phone reception for me (thanks, AT&T) but I wasn’t complaining because I was more than ready to be completely disconnected for the next 2.5 days. After a scenic drive, we arrived at the airfield where we met up with our friend (Chad) who was already setting up his camp. We pitched our tent, set out our camping chairs and prepared for a fun-filled weekend completely immersed in the trail running community.
We picked up our bibs and race packets, scoped out the “Run PA” gear, and returned to our camp. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the set-up of the temporary race weekend “campground”, let it be known, that these “campsites” are primitive. There is no running water and no flushing toilets. Most of the men (and some of the women I suppose) opt to utilize the woods as their bathroom instead of wandering up to the “modernized” port-a-potties (*yuck!*). Regardless of the toilet situation (or lack there of), I was perfectly content in my weekend getaway home.
Soon after picking up our race packets, we all took a 5 minute drive down the road to North Bend United Methodist Church that was hosting a spaghetti dinner for the racers and the community. Last year we had visited this dinner and were pleasantly surprised by the large portion sizes (carbs!!) and dinner services. This year was no different. For a small monetary donation of your personal discretion, the three of us got full plates of spaghetti (with or without meatballs – thank you for appreciating us vegetarians!), side salads, bread, and dessert. We consumed our carbs for the night and returned back to camp with full stomachs and pure focus for the race the next morning.
Shortly after we arrived back at camp, two more friends joined our camping area. We socialized with some of our camping neighbors and talked about running (surprise, surprise, right?). We decided to go to sleep a little after 9 o’clock but some of our other neighbors were still up enjoying the cool, crisp night. I wasn’t bothered by the noise however, and soon I fell asleep.
I was woken the next morning around 6 AM by the sound of car doors slamming and people talking. Although most of our camping neighbors and friends were sleeping, other racers were beginning to filter into the airfield to pick up their race bibs and packets. Although, I was hesitant to leave my warm sleeping bag, I knew I needed to get up and start moving.
I ate my normal pre-race breakfast (peanut butter and banana on bread) and gathered my race gear. Because Josh was driving the truck up to the top of Hyner View, I needed to make sure I had everything out of the truck that I needed for the race before he drove away.
The 50k racers started at 8 AM so Josh and I waited at the start of the bridge for our 50k friends to run by. After they ran by, Josh and I returned to our camping area. I double and triple checked that I had everything that I needed and then Josh drove away. He needed to drive up to the top of Hyner View to cheer on our 50k friends at the top.
After he left, I used the oh-so-“clean” port-a-potties one last time. As I was waiting in the very long line (apparently everyone wanted to see what the inside of the port-a-potties looked like…) I could see little silhouettes of the 50k racers up on the ridge on the mountain. I tried to be excited that I would be trudging up there in less than an hour, but part of me was really nervous. I knew what kind of pain I was going to be in climbing up Humble Hill – I had ran/hiked up it for “fun” last year in order to see my dad/friends at the top of Hyner View. I knew Humble Hill was going to hurt – I just forgot how MUCH it was going to hurt.
I made my way over to the start line 10 minutes before race start. I found a spot somewhat close to the front of the crowd. I had been warned and coached by many experienced Hyner racers that I needed to be towards the front of the crowd so I didn’t get stuck in the mass of people trying to filter onto a single track trail 1 mile into the race. I also knew I had to go out fast….really fast. The race started and a bunch of people got around me. Luckily, I knew I would have the entire length of the long bridge and then some more time on the road to get around the majority of the crowd. My first mile? A 7:14. I had gone out at 5k pace instead of 25k pace but I knew it had to be done. I made it to the single track before 80% of the field did so I was able to ease myself onto the trail without any drama.
The single track lasts nearly a mile until you start ascending Humble Hill. I was trying to maintain a moderate trail pace because I didn’t want to slow the people behind me down. I think I kept up nicely with the flow of the race at that point. There was someone a few steps ahead of me and someone a few steps behind me. We were spaced out evenly.
Before I could think very much more about it, Humble Hill appeared. We started ascending, and ascending, and ascending, and ascending. I had done this hill once before but this time around it kicked my butt. Instantly, my heart rate skyrocketed and my calf muscles burned. I tried to push off my thighs for extra leverage but nothing was doing the trick. The initial ascent of Humble Hill felt like an eternity. People were passing me left and right and rightfully so. They were pushing themselves. They were embracing the pain and exhaustion. They were beating that hill. I on the other hand was being defeated. I just couldn’t get myself together long enough to push through the incline. I was doubting my every thought as to why I thought doing this race would be a good idea. Climbing up Humble Hill, I couldn’t even shake the thought of “how am I ever going to finish this entire race with how I’m feeling right now?”. I tried my best to embrace the challenge, but the effects of running in flat southern NJ wasn’t really helping me get up the hill. I kept reminding myself that Josh would be at the top. Josh would be at the top ringing a cowbell and telling me that I looked strong. After what felt like 45 minutes of powerhiking up the hill, I finally could hear the cheers from atop Hyner View. The sound of the crowd at the top seemed close but there was still so much hill to go. I focused on taking one step at a time. The kind and patient man behind me told me to just keep stepping forward and that I was doing a great job – (I’m sorry I don’t know your name, kind and patient man, but I really appreciated your encouragement at that moment in time!).
We reached the top and I saw a drone hovering to my right. The woman in front of me lifted her arms up as if she was trying to get its attention but I didn’t have the energy to do that. I could hear the cowbell and then I heard Josh’s voice telling me to smile. I forget if I did end up smiling for him – I was just really exhausted. We rounded the wall and Josh was on the other side telling me that I did awesome. He asked how I was feeling and I just told him “that was really hard”. He proceeded to run beside me telling me that I did great and to continue to do great in the remaining 12 or so miles of the race. I hoped I would be able to live up to his expectations.
I passed through the Hyner View aid station and grabbed a few sips of Gatorade. Then, we began the descent. It was a long descent with many switchbacks. A lot of people passed me on the downhill but I wasn’t concerned. I let go of all my racing instincts and opted to just be out there to enjoy the race. I pulled off to the side of the trail when someone needed to pass. I didn’t want to slow anyone else’s race down with my cautious descending skills. We reached the bottom of the hill after a few miles and the hill got extremely slick with mud. I was afraid of sliding down the hill so I was extremely cautious. I probably actually would’ve been faster if I would’ve just slid down on my butt. But because I wasn’t necessarily in a rush, I just took my time.
A hiker had warned everyone that the stream crossings of Johnson’s Run were high. He told us to be careful. I knew I would be careful because slippery rocks are another worry of mine. Our first stream crossing was gifted with a two logs that had been put together to make a make-shift bridge. The next 15-20 stream crossings (and I’m not exaggerating saying 15-20), however, were a free-for-all. It was impossible to keep my feet dry so I just trudged through each stream crossing with a purpose. At some of the crossings, the water was up to my knee. I just kept trudging. Even when we weren’t necessarily crossing the stream, we were running up stream. I swear we were running up waterfalls at certain points (but I’m probably just being dramatic).
Johnson’s Run was a good long portion of the race. I was enjoying the scenery and the uphill wasn’t nearly as torturous as Humble Hill. I was enjoying the entire experience of the race. I forgot about the pain of Humble Hill and was just out there enjoying the day in the woods. After some time, we approached the Johnson’s Run aid station. This aid station had American flags leading up to it. I enjoyed that nice sentimental touch to the aid station. I grabbed another two or three swigs of Gatorade and continued on my way.
We descended again. This time, I was feeling a little more confident in my descents. The trail reminded me a lot like White Clay where I ran frequently last summer/fall. There were a few instances where my momentum got the best of me but I didn’t trip at all so I was surviving just fine. At the bottom of this hill, there were two men pointing which direction to go. I made sure I was going the right way for the 25k racers. We began yet another uphill.
I was getting used to powerhiking by this point of the race. The hills just weren’t possible for my body to ascend at a running speed. My little South Jersey calf muscles just weren’t ready for the Hyner, PA hills. I knew this coming into the race so it wasn’t a surprise to me when the hills zapped all my energy and momentum. I wasn’t mad. I was just accepting of the fact that I needed to powerhike in order to finish this race.
Another racer came up behind me and I asked him if he needed to go around me. He said my pace was the exact same as his so he didn’t need to pass. We got to talking about where we were from and if we’ve ever raced Hyner before. This racer was from Lock Haven and he had finished the 25k numerous times. He was pleasantly surprised to hear that I was from the flat part of New Jersey and was a first time Hyner racer. He told me I was on pace for a sub-4 hour finish which he seemed to be impressed with. I hadn’t been looking at my watch during the entire race because I wasn’t interested in my pace or how far I had left to run – I was just out there to enjoy the day.
I asked the racer if the hill we were ascending had a name. I had a feeling it was SOB (named SOB rightfully so) but I was told that SOB was extremely steep. All we were doing at that point was hiking up switchbacks. He informed me that we were on the bottom portion of SOB. He warned me of what was to come but I ensured him I already had been told what SOB was going to be like.
We continued upward and that’s when I saw the real SOB. All the racers in front of me were at a crawling pace. Mostly everyone had both hands out touching the ground in order to get up the hill. Everyone was taking cautious steps in order to avoid slipping on the loose dirt beneath their feet. The hill was probably only 200m in length but it was a long 200m. My lungs were burning again. My quads felt like they were lacking power to push myself up the hill. My calf muscles ached. Hello, SOB.
There were a few spectators waiting along the climb of SOB. One of them mentioned that we only had 100 more vertical feet to climb. The other was ensuring us that we were almost there. I’m not exactly sure how these spectators were standing so nonchalantly on this extremely steep hill but that was probably just dramatic thoughts in my head at that time. I remember yelling out “THIS IS RIDICULOUS” to anyone who may have been listening. I also remember thinking that they should’ve just put a ladder on SOB so that we could ascend easier (I sound like such a wimp saying that now that I have actually survived the race).
SOB was the hill that I had nightmares about last year. I kid you not, this hill gave me real life nightmares in my sleep. I remember the nightmare vividly. I was trying to get up the hill and I was physically unable to get to the top. I was clawing my way up a grassy incline and just couldn’t dig my hands into the ground to pull myself up. I was just stuck at the bottom of the hill with no physical strength to get to the top.
BACK TO REALITY THOUGH….I made it to the top. The hill wasn’t like the nightmare I had last year. With the encouragement of the man behind me that ascended the entire length of SOB (from the switchbacks to the tippy top), I made it to the top. I’m sorry I did not get your name or bib number to thank you but I hope that maybe the “man from Lock Haven that had raced the 25k many times before and was very much impressed by my southern-New-Jersey-flat-lander-speed-in-the-mountains” gets to read this blog. Thank you, SOB companion, for encouraging me all the way to the top.
At the top of SOB, we were all gifted an aid station. I walked up to the aid station with my legs feeling like jello. I took another cup of blue Gatorade, took a deep breath, and continued on my way towards the finish line. I knew that SOB was the third and final climb of the race and that the course was “all down hill from here”. There was an occasional mini uphill along the straight path after SOB but nothing overly strenuous compared to the other uphills in the race.
I was thrilled at this moment in the race. So thrilled, that I was running with a huge smile across my face. I had made it up every climb of the race. All that was left to do was run downhill to the finish….the finish line that was probably still about 3-4 miles away.
I was enjoying myself. I knew what was ahead because I had ran down Huff’s Run last year after spectating at the top of Hyner View. Huff’s Run was fun. Huff’s Run was downhill. Huff’s Run got you that much closer to the finish line.
Because I’m a slower-than-average downhill runner, everyone started passing me again. I kindly let people go by me knowing that I didn’t want to slow down their progress to the finish line. The 1st place 50k racer passed me about half way down Huff’s Run. Honestly, I had been hoping to hold the 50k’ers off until at least the road, but they are just too fast! Clayton Bouchard, the winner of the 50k, passed me with such ease that I was in awe of how quickly his feet were effortlessly moving down the trail. (We can thank Instagram for teaching me who Clayton Bouchard is – I’ve been following his Instagram account since last year’s Hyner – I’m not creepy I swear!). Another 50k racer passed me on Huff’s Run too….those mountain runners are fast!
We finally reached the road which left about one mile remaining of the race. I tried to increase my turnover now that I was on the road, but my quads were shot from the descents.
We crossed the bridge again and then I learned about the infamous “eternal” bridge. Although we had all crossed the same bridge at the start of the race, the bridge running in the opposite direction felt 10x the length of the bridge from the beginning of the race. Let it be known that….IT WAS THE SAME BRIDGE. My run across the bridge took what seemed like forever! By the time I got to the turn after the bridge, I felt exhausted. People were cheering and clapping for all the racers. It was a good feeling knowing how close to the finish line I was.
The finishing stretch hops back onto a trail. Surprise, surprise….the trail goes uphill to the finish. A short but steep uphill zapped my legs again – as if the other three climbs didn’t already do that. I knew I was close because I could hear people cheering. I powerhiked up the hill but once I got to the top I knew I had to run it in to the finish line.
I heard Josh before I saw him. He told me I was doing an awesome job. I rounded the final turn and saw the finish line. Josh was running about 20 feet to my right through the leaves and brush still cheering for me (extra points for him for doing that!). I crossed the finish line and knew I had left all my energy out on the course. I was handed the famous Hyner hat. I found Josh in the crowd and then instantly told him that I just wanted to sit down.
We sat down in the grass and I briefly reviewed the race with him. Soon he told me to get up and I knew I needed to get out of my sweaty clothes before my body temperature started to drop. I got changed into dry, warm clothes and Josh had checked the results sheet. My official finishing time was 3:54:16. I had finished 188th out of 850 finishers. I was extremely content with a sub-4 hour finish. I had met both of my goals. #1: I had finished the race. #2: I had finished as close to 4 hours as possible. I was now officially a Hyner 25k finisher!
The post-race party at Hyner is unlike any other post-race gathering I’ve experienced. There’s free food to choose from (my go-to choice was 2 slices of pizza). There’s free beer to choose from (not my thing but everyone else takes advantage of it). There’s cupcakes. There’s BBQ (also not my thing considering I’m a vegetarian). And of course…there’s good company!
I grabbed 2 slices of pizza and then Josh and I went back to the finishing area to wait for our other friends to finish. While waiting we saw people of all ages finishing their races. We cheered everyone on as we anxiously waited for our friends. We heard other race stories and shared our thoughts and opinions during certain parts of the race. We were just a bunch of trail runners hanging out.
After our friends finished, we found a comfy spot in the grass to discuss the race. We ate food and some drank beer. My shoes were still soaked at this point from splashing through the streams but I was content. I felt accomplished. I felt like I had achieved my goals in their entirety and got more out of it the race than I ever thought possible.
We returned to our camping area and settled in for the remainder of the afternoon. People were filtering in and out of the airfield as their race was over. A lot of people went home but there was still a good handful of people that stuck around for another night of camping. So many stars were out in the sky and the night was crisp. It was a good way to end a long day on the trails.
So Hyner….Hyner is challenging. Hyner is breathtaking (literally). Hyner is inspirational. Hyner is one big trail running community out for a run through the woods on a Saturday morning. Hyner is what you make of it. You can race it. You can run it. You can hike it. Make it your own experience. Most importantly, ENJOY your experience. Not everyone’s race will be the same. That’s what makes it so special.
One year ago I was just a spectator at the top of Hyner View not fully understanding the challenges of the course. I was the runner stuck between a transition from road running to trail running. I was afraid of something that would challenge me beyond anything I could imagine.
It took me one year to find the confidence to trail race to the capacity of Hyner. It took a year of going out with Josh to the trails and trudging along through the woods at a slower pace. It took a winter of occasional nighttime hill repeats to make me feel like I could climb up mountains. It took overcoming doubt in my mind. It took patience. It took effort.
But simply, it took my love and adoration for the trails to just go out there and enjoy it. My trail racing days are just beginning. Trail running takes patience. Races like Hyner take a lot out of you physically but give you a lot of strength mentally. Don’t be the person that shies away from their goals. Push your limits and just keep moving forward.