97.5 miles. 35+ hours on foot. 5 days of crewing and pacing. Almost no sleep. 1 burger-related emotional breakdown.

I understand it is a true privilege to be able to have adventures and do the things I do. And I am super grateful for that. But there is this space between (queue Dave Matthews) where something feels off, something feels missing and I feel listless.

When I popped out from under the car, my stepdaughter said, “I’m glad you lift and are strong.” It made me laugh but also made me proud. Then it made me start thinking about all the training I have been doing for 17+ years. How that training has not only made me physically strong but mentally confident in myself.

“But wait Brittany, how could you finish? You were pulled from the race.” Great question and one I wish I had asked myself at 3:35 p.m. on April 22. Being pulled from a race means the race is no longer taking liability for you. You are now on your own. So what do you do?

The weather was perfect. We took off. I arrived at the first aid station which just so happened to be my first crew spot about an hour and 45 minutes later which was right in the range I had planned for. I got there, I took a drink of water and all of a sudden I had to puke only 9.5 miles into this race. It confused me.

Then it hit me. I’m focusing on the things I cannot control and am not focusing on what I can…my reactions and my attitude.