On Guide Running

This past weekend, I once again acted as a guide runner for my friend Kyle who is an awesome ultrarunner training up for his first Western States finish.  He's also legally blind.  We were running at the TARC Spring Classic, which is on mostly rocky and rooty single track trails - fun trails to play on if you can see where you're going on, but a nerve-wracking place to guide someone through.

(Amy and Kyle at TARC Spring Classic)

Folks often ask me what it's like to be a guide runner.  It's awesome, it's fun and rewarding...but it's also stressful.  The fun and rewarding part is similar to anytime you might have crewed or paced a runner in an ultra.  You give up your time to help someone else achieve their goal, and take a bit of pride and ownership in their accomplishment.  My favorite part is getting into 'coaching mode' and helping to problem-solve or push my runner through doubts or fears that are holding them back.  And while guiding isn't this exact thing, as my runner is dictating the pace and I'm just working to keep them upright, I get similar feelings of pride and ownership in knowing that in a small way I helped them accomplish something amazing.

The stressful part also comes in taking ownership of my runner's fate.  Think back to your own running - when you catch a toe and stumble or fall, you know it's your fault that you didn't see it or lift your foot up high enough.  If you twist an ankle, you curse yourself for not watching where you placed your feet.  However, when guiding a visually impaired runner and they stumble, twist an ankle or fall, I am filled with guilt that I should have called things out better or described more appropriately what my runner was about to encounter.  Kyle has finished a few runs where I have guided him with bloody knees, and I honestly wish that I was the one who was injured not him.

(Amy and Kyle at TARC Spring Classic)

This past weekend at TARC was likely the most technical trails that I have guided on.  And while they're not as technical as some trails in New England, they were at the limits of my ability to guide.  Fortunately, Kyle stayed upright throughout the 13ish miles I guided him on, and only stubbed a few toes in the process.  That being said, there was a lot of stumbling before Kyle stopped me to talk through how we could better communicate and keep him healthy.

At the end of the day, I always draw inspiration and lessons from days like Saturday.  Kyle served as a reminder that if something isn't going to plan, it's ok to pause for a second, regroup, and evaluate if there's a better way to do it.  And, of course, the importance of communications is key to any relationship, but that importance was underlined again to me as I guided Kyle through those trails.

(Even the timing mats are a trip hazard if you can't see them)

I urge each of you to take these lessons with you as you approach this summer's VT100.  Communicate with your crew and pacers about what you need and how they can help you.  Reevaluate your goals and pacing (and at times your fueling/hydration strategies) as the day progresses, as things always change and plans need to be adjusted.  Of course, the most important lesson that Kyle reminded me is that a positive attitude is key, so keep smiling!