This was my dream run.

For over a year now, Kristie’s cousin Nathan and I have been contemplating a trail that begins at Big Springs Park, climbs over the Cascade Saddle, and supposedly ends at Rock Canyon park in Provo. We heard rumors that the trail exists, but couldn’t find any definitive documentation of its course, elevation or distance. Google Maps made it look plausible, but certainly didn’t inspire any confidence.

We tried on several occasions to reach the Saddle in 2009, but each time had to turn back due to darkness, fatigue, or some combination of both. With each trip we got closer to what looked like the peak, but it always seemed just barely out of reach.

So fast-forward to late August, 2010. One evening Nathan calls me out of the blue from a business trip in South Carolina to suggest that we finally set a date to conquer the mountain. Since I was totally out of shape this year, I requested mid October to give me a little time to train. We settled on a Saturday, the 16th and immediately into my phone calendar went the entry “Epic Run.”

Two weekends prior to the day and I had only ran twice. One weekend prior I was out with a cold. I sent Nathan an email letting him know that I might have to bow out if I couldn’t get over an awful cough. Instead of letting my illness decide, what does he do? Immediately call Kristie’s phone and invite her to run it with him instead.

I called him a traitor, but knew that it was a good plan. Despite having had a baby four months ago, Kristie was in killer shape, and could run circles around me. The only advantage I had over her was that if we got lost in the wilderness, I had more reserves to survive on. That, and I’m better at fighting bears.

But when Saturday rolled around I was feeling about 90%, so the three of us decided we were in. We couldn’t have attempted it without Kendra, who was cool enough to hang  back with James and Lilah. As a triathlete herself, I knew it was hard – but I promised her I’d swap roles the next time we got something on the calendar. We left one car at Rock Canyon, and Kendra dropped us off at the trail-head, so this time there was no car to return to. It was Rock Canyon or bust.

We hit the trail at about 2:30 pm with a bottle of water each, and an iPhone 4 to map our GPS coordinates. The trail commenced with the familiar, unrelenting climb that would carry us past Big Springs, through the changing tree lines and ultimately (we presumed) to a point where we could crest the elusive Cascade Saddle.

It was apparent early that Nathan and Kristie were in much better physical condition, but they encouraged me when I struggled, and helped to keep me plodding along. Occasionally we’d pause running to take pictures of our beautiful surroundings, which offered a temporary respite for my leaden legs.

Upon passing the furthest point that we’d previously reached, the peak began to look like it was right around the corner. After the fifth or sixth time I caught myself believing this, I decided that it would be mentally advantageous to pretend that there wasn’t going to be a top. At least that way I’d be less crushed every time I saw a new wall of mountain facing me.

Eventually we did make it, and it was awesome.

We took a few pictures at the top, and then, with empty stomachs and water bottles, hastily commenced the long, pounding decent.

About 2/3′s of the way down I remember wanting it all to be over so, so badly. I was feeling good for a while, but the loose rocks and endless switchbacks wore me down and became increasingly infuriating.

By the time I reached the car I could barely jog. My quads were shaking and I felt physically ill. Nathan and Kristie, who had beaten me ther, were exhausted as well–but we all felt a little elation for having completed it. In total we ran 11.8 miles over a mountain pass.

Nathan's dirt tan

We piled into the car and I drove us to a supermarket, where Nathan jumped out and bought chocolate milk for a post-run replenishment drink. He actually had to drive from that point on, since I was feeling (let’s just say) a little worse for the wear.

But we did it, and it was about as hard (harder?) for me than the St. George marathon. Here are few things that put it in perspective: