As we get a bit older, or uh over thirty as it were, time seems to shift and dilate differently according to how long time has seemed to pass for us. I am not sure if it’s two years writing and still waiting for my first load of dribble to be optioned, or thinking I might die last year. Turns out we all will and I am certainly not going any faster upon further determination. So to hell with all that.
In four years away from the Ultra Community- I never felt truly separated from it. I was a fan before I was a runner. So the amount I have been welcomed time and time again no matter how strange my season in life, I have remained at least a loyal fan. I have kept my ship near the harbor.
We are here now, though, so let me reintroduce myself. Sarah Elizabeth Glass, but my Friends call me Izzy. I am certainly a writer who was sidetracked into Event production and stage craft for far too many years, as well as writing songs for a (sort of) living the last couple of years. The long short of that story is my segmented and strange previous book, as well as stories I will tell another day. Twelve years in the abusive clutches of the music industry, the ego of a lost man, and my own dreams I at least wanted to see the ends of….some dreams turn into nightmares. Then you wake back up.
Somewhere in there-I did become more than a fan…. 100ker, solo first known route 50 mile runner, and a few big hundred attempts that went awry because of the above reasons. I too, am a hunter….but uh SNAP CUT TO..
Another Tuesday. Three weeks to the day ago I took off to the West to see my Best friend. With my Dads old camera I fixed, as much film as I could afford…I was as ready as I could be. I had all kinds of weird ideas thrown at the board. I wanted waterfalls and a little road trip. That’s all I really knew before getting my media form approved for Crazy Mountain. A race I have watched a number of years, and once live through the window of someone I will most certainly mention later. Probably too many times.
All that, and if you read about it, it’s completely mental. With more climbing in 100 miles than Everest Base Camp to the peak… twice. Google it I dare you I checked.
This tall windy Palm Tree was certain- She’d be facing the one and only big God himself just to see it all go down.
Turns out it was all that….sorta? But mostly it was just perfect. Chill even, for the amount of emotions. A reflection of the person in charge, every volunteer, runner and everyone in attendance. It was wonderful in every way from the moment I pulled off and followed the signs to the cow pasture I’d call home til Sunday morning (that was also not the plan.)
If Crazy Mountain 100 is a family, then I was simply a lost girl who finally wandered into the right family reunion. So let me use this moment to just say: Thank you first and foremost.
Thank you to my Best Friend in every dimension for leading me back “Out There.” (There will be more on our adventures.)
Thanks to the guy who I have known longer than I thought (that time thing) who was dumb enough to tell me two days before he’d be running no crew no pacer- Huge thanks for giving me a reason to show up and more reasons than that to stay. (It was his second time and he definitely didn’t go in worried about injury or anything…as far as I can tell he’s the best one. Legend in my literal book.)
Thanks Dad for Everything and the Camera. Thanks Mom and Dad for the sense of adventure.
And especially thank you Crazy Mountain 100 for existing, and letting me find my way back to the herd.
Guess it’s time to start saving for a boat.
Always Around 