This is the first of many “I failed” articles to come. Every quarter (or so), I’ll be sharing one of my failures. I find that humility is what makes us all more connected and the sooner we admit and share our failures, the more we learn and grow from them.
Episode 1: Lighting up the Darkness:
With a few short weeks before 24 hour Mountain Bike World Championships, my coach (also my husband) had put “a long ride that ends in the dark” on my training schedule. Our cabin is almost exactly 100 miles away from our house and it is an amazing ride with plenty of gravel and single track. I had done it twice before, once with the kids and Jason and once on my own although it was all in the day time. This time, Jason was adamant that I start late in the day from the cabin and end well into the night hours at our house.
My goal was to go fast while testing out my nutrition and new Fenix lights. I had done plenty of night riding and running so I was not too worried. In fact, it is my favorite time of the day when racing. I feel safe and naive in my bubble of light and I love the feeling of “getting stuff done while others are sleeping.” However this time, as the sun started to set I got a niggling feeling in my gut that felt like fear. Instead of reading too much into it, I used it to power me forward and I hit the top of the last big climb right as the sunset colors were at their peak. I felt good as I was ahead of my time estimate. On my way down the rough trail, though, eyes and rustling bushes started to invade my nerves and stir up images of cougars in my head. I raced down the mountain as fast as I could, not wanting to stop to switch on my lights.
“Once I’m on the long flat lake road I’ll be sweet” I thought. But once I got there, I saw a truck up ahead driving very slowly along the bumpy road. Again this triggered my fear of the unknown – both animal and human.
My imagination went wild. I started thinking about all sorts of bad things that could happen to me. Instead of speeding up and trying to pass the truck, I stopped, focused on my breathing and tried to calm my racing heart. I reminded myself that many people were out for different reasons, and likely they would probably be very surprised that I was out there as well. After a few minutes, I turned up my lights on my bike and started to ride again. The truck lights were still far up in the distance, but were still moving steadily ahead so I kept a nice steady pace as well. “No need to blast this” I thought, “recover here and blast the next section.” But just as I hit the turn for the next gravel and wooded section, my heart started racing again. Now both pretend animals in the dark AND humans were out and about.
Luckily I had a bit of service and was able to call Jason. Hearing his voice of reason and calm had always helped. Yet this time, the tears started to stream down my face and I barely I managed to get out a “I’m so scared!” He asked if I was ok and I could hear the boys in the background. I had interrupted their bed time story which made it worse. I so wanted to switch places with him.
“No! I’m not ok! I hate this” I replied. He had heard this before in my voice, but usually he was always physically with me.
“Ok” he said, “there is no one out to get you, you are safe, I am tracking you and you have bright lights , take a few minutes, eat something and focus on the beauty.” I tried to listen and hear him, but I was in a state that I could not get fully out of. After a bit, he managed to convince me to keep riding and helped me get to a bigger road where I did feel safer on, but once I had to turn back into the woods and onto more remote gravel roads for the final ten miles, my legs felt like lead and my heart and imagination would not stop racing.
I could not get the fear out of my mind and body and rather than fighting it, I asked him to come and pick me up. I was done.
As I saw his truck lights, instead of feeling relieved like I thought I would, I felt disappointed and like I had failed. On the drive home, we said few words to one another, as he could sense he was walking on eggshells at that point. He knows me so well. If he had said anything, I would have snapped in either direction. Instead, we sat there in silence and I just let the tears roll and emotions wash over me.
After a good sleep and breakfast, I was able to take a few steps back and look at it with curiosity and fascination rather than being so critical and hard on myself. It was an unfamiliar challenge coupled with an unpredicted reaction.
“Your fear response was completely normal” Jason said. “Being in the dark alone in the woods is scary” he empathized. “But statistically, that person in the truck wasn’t going to do anything to you, he was probably out hunting, as it is October in Central Oregon”
He was absolutely right. That person didn’t even know I was there. But in the moment, I couldn’t control my emotions or out of control imagination. I was so surprised by my own fear reaction that I didn’t know how to bring myself down on my own. I was so used to having the comfort of my team with me in the dark. I had never been in the dark completely alone and I was not at all used to it!
After a couple of days of rest, I tried again. This time it was a shorter ride, but I set out from the house right at dusk. I headed past my familiar trails and up into the mountains where I rarely get to ride. I rode past a sitting truck and felt my heart rate go up but I was able to calm it down with breath and reminders that other people like the woods at night too. As I crested the last climb I stopped to take in the silence and looked up to the stars. I felt both scared and excited but more than anything I felt proud to have gone back out to face my fears.
One of the most helpful therapies for me when going through my depression post Spirit B’s death was “exposure therapy”. It’s a type of therapy where you go to the places that scare you or bring up memories and feelings that are uncomfortable. Instead of practicing dissociation and running away, you go in and pull up a seat with your pain and sensations. Ever since learning about this form of therapy, I have brought it into all aspects of my life. Facing conflicts, fears and pain with both curiosity and courage is scary but so much more healing and productive than running away from it.
I still love being out in the dark with my team or with others who I know are on the same course as me way more than being out on my own. However, I now know that I can do it and have more tools for when I am facing this fear again.
If you are one who is afraid of the dark (or maybe you don’t know if you are!), I wrote up some tips that helped me. As it really is a magical time to be out and about in the wilderness. I hope they help, and if you have any more or questions, please reach out!
Start with a friend or group:
Rather than going out for your first time all on your own. Ask a friend or join a group evening run or ride. Being with others in the dark is always more comforting and fun, especially as you are getting used to your lights and being out at that time of the day. Pick a route and head out at dusk, and make it your goal to be in the darkness for most of your time.
Wake up Early
Starting by headlamp and then seeing the sunrise is the easiest place to start when you are running or riding on your own. Knowing that the sun is going to come up in an hour or two when you are out in the woods is comforting and gets you used to the darkness at the same time. It’s like wading into the deep end instead of cannonballing into it. This is where I first started my solo darkness adventures and I still love and prefer sunrise rides and runs to sunset ones.
Get a bright and long lasting headlamp and/or bike light
Getting a good light to light up the trail or road in front of you is key to making you feel safe and comfortable. There is nothing like being able to light up the entire trail or hillside in the pitch black! After over 15 years of racing in the night, it still amazes me. My all time favorite lights are Fenix Lights because they are bright, easy to use, waterproof and have a very long run time compared to any other light (and I have tested MANY!) For running I love the HM65R because it can do both floodlight and/or spotlight mode. And with max lumens of 1400 and a run time of 280 hours, it can brighten up any trail as well as my surroundings like no other light. It’s also extremely comfortable, as it stays put and is not too heavy on my head.
For biking, I love my BC26R Fenix light. It’s very bright, and lasts for 65 hours on its lowest setting (which is plenty bright to get you down off any mountain if needed). It’s also lightweight and really easy to manage. Unlike other bike lights that I have used where there is a separate battery pack and wires that can dangle, this one is all one mighty package. It’s really easy to attach and remove which makes changing out the battery (a single lightweight and rechargeable 21700 battery) quick and easy. It has 4 different modes, with the brightest being very very bright and only needed for super technical down hills.
***use this link for a sweet discount on Fenix Lights!
Always carry a back up light or battery
Whether you are using Fenix lights or not, always carry a spare battery or a an extra emergency light. In adventure racing we carry both a spare light for the team and every individual always carries an extra battery for their light. When I am on my own, I always carry a spare battery and usually skip the spare light unless I am going out for over 48 hours. Having a back up is key for covering your bases and making you feel more comfortable out there, especially if you are on your own!
*Note: I want to be clear that this is not about running through a big city at night. I have never been assaulted nor do I live in a big city, so I don’t have this experience. This is more about my expertise and experience about running in the woods at night.
Your honest reflection on failure and the lessons learned is both brave and inspiring. It’s through setbacks that we often find our greatest growth. Thank you for sharing your journey with us, Endurance Mama.