2025 mid mountain 50k recap
If you’ve ever run the Mid Mountain trail up in Park City, you know the magic of the rolling single track. It’s got the perfect amount of aspen coverage, exposed sections, easy ups, gentle downs. It’s smooth enough to make you feel like you could run forever, but technical enough to keep your agility skills in check.
The 2025 Mid Mountain 50K was my fourth race and third 50K of the season. After a successful 50K race in Oregon I felt like Mid Mountain would be a perfect next race. I had a good 5 weeks to put in a serious training block and I’d be able to train out on the course more than any race I’ve done before. I trained at a high volume and felt like I had had the best training block maybe ever?! (having a coach helps alot!) My body was tired at times, but strong. I woke up excited to train every day of the build - which is a sure sign you’re doing things right. Physically I felt confident that regardless of what anyone else did on race day - I could go out and put on a show. Mentally I felt in between; I struggle with caring a lot about training/performing - but also knowing there is no expectation as I am no pro athlete.
The day began with a 5am shuttle for a 6am start. The sun rises at 6:38am which meant I’d be running with my $3 headlamp (I bought for camping not running). As we took our places in the start corral the announcer warned us that the first 800m was a steep climb, not to be taken as an understatement. I took his word. Immediately 4 women sprinted past me and began digging up the hill. I held steady and focused on my heart rate/breathing as I listened to those around me hyperventilate. By the end of the hill I was pretty sure I had passed all but one of the women, but my focus was just finding a spot and staying relaxed. I struggled to see for the first 30 minutes as my headlamp picked up dust from the trail and created a foggy spotlight that nearly impaired my vision more than the total darkness. I adjusted it up and down every few strides, trying to run with speed, but also fearing a nose dive to the ground on any given rock. As we reached the edge of a switchback, a deep neon orange filled the gap where the earth meets the sky - and finally the sky began to brighten.
The plan for the first 10 miles was to just run it relaxed. After that initial little climb there was 2mi descent back into a 3mi climb, so there was no need to burnout on the first section. I felt calm and confident, maybe more than ever in a race. My only thoughts were on keeping a steady pace, paying attention to how each muscle responded to every step. The second 10mi section was the section I had trained on several times, and it was exciting to be on such a familiar trail. The plan for this section was to start to progress the pace as the trail really starts to level out and become a fast rolling course. It was quiet and eventually two men had joined me, refusing to pass - telling me my pace was “strong as a rock.” I felt like I must have a sizeable gap on the women behind me by this point. There was so much joy in this section, it was hard to transition into a “race” mindset and start to ramp the pace. I kept telling myself I feel so smooth, no one’s around me, why would I push my pace and risk feeling more fatigued before the final big climb.
I continued on, at the comfortable pace I started the race in and watched the middle miles tick by. By the time I reached mile 19 I could tell I was starting to slow and my comfortable pace didn't feel so easy anymore. I’ve never had an issue with intra-run fueling, but I started to notice an aversion to taking in gel/sugar and that I had been preferring plain water for a while. I told myself it was fine, I was fine, just keep the pace your in if thats all you have. I stopped at an aid station to fill my bottles around mile 20-21, and a woman quickly came in behind me and did the same. “Oh sh*t.” That gap I thought I had was no longer, and I had no gears to change into. Leaving the aid station, I did my best to hold more of a running pace, but eventually she overtook me. I couldn’t understand why I felt no drive to hold on to her or speed up. Very quickly she was gone and I was running solo again. Mile 23 started the descent and suddenly another woman I had passed on the beginning section of the race had bounced around me. How could I have made it 21 miles just to crumble at the end and why was I not fighting to stay in it? I like to think a downhill finish is my strong suit; I love to hammer it at the end - yet at this moment I couldn’t. I questioned why mentally I wasn't competing, why couldn’t I turn on any speed, I felt good the entire race - all I had to do was finish.
I thought about how many other women were behind me coming to take over. I tried to motivate myself into fighting more; telling myself 4th place was still good! The final 3 miles felt longer than the entire race; any misstep sent a calf spasm all the way up my right leg. I managed to hold my place and finish 4th female. It’s a weird feeling having so many people impressed by you, but being disappointed in yourself. I sat in the grass and played a mental tug of war. I thought about how confident I was in my training and how I absolutely did not showcase it. I thought about how mentally clear and calm I felt, but when it came time to push harder my mind refused. There’s no compromise to feeling like you “could have” done something…you just didn’t on that day. I tell myself “it’s not my fitness, it’s because of XYZ” but then I think what if it is my fitness. Maybe I just need more time, more training, more racing.
This race, to me, is what keeps me racing. Among my post race thoughts was excitement to get back to training as soon as my body (and coach) would let me. A few days pass, I troubleshoot as much as I can, and I move on. There’s more racing to be done this year - and there’s another Mid Mountain 50K next year.
