Here we are…
Sitting here at my parents’ lovely lakehouse after a refreshing winter weekend with some of my best friends, I feel a sense of sadness, and also what will eventually turn into excitement. I love winter and winter sports, but I have a goal I want to accomplish this year, and it means I can’t spend as much time up here as I’d like. That goal is - you guessed it - attempting the Mongol Derby. I say attempting because as I’ve mentioned in the past, I can only control at MOST 20% of the race. Most of that 20% happens before the starting line. So getting to that starting line is a feat in and of itself. The 80% is up to the powers that be - be it luck, fate, or whatever deity in which you believe.
Life in 2022 is more back to normal, which means training is much harder to prioritize. And it’s been a long time to sustain such high training loads. So I took the summer off and hiked. Then I got back at it in Sept/Oct with the back to back 50s that I did (and wrote an as-yet-unpublished blog post about). Then I traveled for work and the holidays throughout November and December, focusing on my young horse and enjoying time with friends and family. January flew by without much to talk about, and now we’re quickly heading into March which is when I promised myself I’d really double down on my focus for the Derby.
So I sit here, gazing at the huge fluffy snowflakes coming down, wishing I could go out for one last cross country ski, or a few last turns down the mountain, and knowing that I’ll have to save them for another day. It’s always better to leave wanting more than wishing you would have left sooner.
I think part of my current angst is still all of the unknowns and work to be done. I have identified a lot of areas of improvement, and some of them I’m not sure how to tackle. Navigation - I need to improve here if I’m to do it seamlessly from a galloping horse in a strange country with no roadsigns or manmade, unmoving landmarks. Shin muscles - these were surprisingly painful and swollen after the back to back 50s I did in October. I’ve been doing banded exercises but still feel that is a weakpoint. Raingear - this still makes me nervous. Mounting - I still need to work on mounting from the ground with one hand. Gear and extra clothes I’m bringing - I need to make a list and weigh it to make sure it fits under the limit and has everything I need. Food/adequate nutrition - this is a worry - apparently the calorie deficit is intense and I’m not used to the food in Mongolia - time to find some Mongolian cafes and try it out!
Another part of my struggle is what I started to mention above - the world is open in 2022, my friends are doing fun things, and while riding makes me a happy, centered human and brings people into my life who are instant soulmatches, I still love doing things with my friends and family that don’t involve horses. 30th birthday parties, ski trips, my 10 year college reunion, bachelorettes, weddings, showers, weekends at home to catch up on life, seeing my family for various birthdays and holidays - how do all of these fit into a training plan for the longest and toughest horse race in the world? Not to mention work, career musings, sleep, feeding myself, and taking care of my general life responsibilities. And I’d love to compete my baby horse a few times this season. Writing all of that out starts to get overwhelming - but I know I am incredibly lucky to have all of these opportunities and people in my life. I like to do everything well and at full throttle, but I also like to do EVERYTHING, and that tension (you can’t do everything well if you do EVERYTHING) is something I’ve always struggled with. The stakes are just a bit higher with this race.
Musings aside, I’m looking forward to finalizing my training plan, getting back out there, and building up my knowledge, physical and mental strength, and tackling this adventure. I’m grateful that I’ve had this as a north star during these tough times, and I’m getting back into the excited while apprehensive mode as it becomes more and more of a reality!