By Jen Laughlin | January 13, 2020
If you know me, you know that Coldwater Rumble is an extremely sentimental race. It was my first trail race, my first 50 mile, my twin sister’s first ultra, and my daughter’s first running race of any kind. But more than anything, it was the race that introduced me to the unique and incomparable trail running community, consequentially changing my running life in the best possible ways.
Back in 2014 while approaching the milestone age of 40, I decided I wanted to do something “big”: I wanted to be an “endurance runner”. Yep, I laughed when I said it out loud too, but after a lifetime of playing competitive sports I was feeling the urge to “train” for something, and if you know me, I know you’re laughing again because despite intention to, I never train for anything.
I had been dabbling on the trails since my teens but had only run road races and I was ready to try something exciting and new.
I digress. Back to my bucket-list-I’m-having-a-midlife-crisis-endurance-trail-running journey.
After a quick internet search, I found a family owned and operated trail running company that offered ultra distance races, and wouldn’t you know, there were two right near my house! This was it…Coldwater Rumble 20 mile would be first, then Mesquite Canyon 50k would be my grand finale, my ultra marathon initiation. So, after maybe a couple of runs no longer than 9 miles, a few of those miles on an actual trail (imagine that), and zero practice with any sort of nutrition or hydration methods, I was ready. I toed the line at the Coldwater Rumble 20 mile.
Now, here, at Estrella Mountain Regional Park on this cool, January Saturday morning, is where my running life changed.
I remember vividly those few minutes before the race, nervously trying to make conversation with intimidating, albeit friendly groups of folks who clearly had known each other for years. They warmly welcomed me in without batting an eye. Even when I made ignorant comments about “racing in sandals”, they still spoke to me.
The Race Director counted us down and I started the race off in my typical, road running fashion: way too fast, blowing through the first aid station like I typically did during said road race: slamming a Dixie cup of water like a shot of tequila and side-arming it into the trash can without breaking stride. As I was pounding my shot of water, I was subconsciously noting a few details that seemed odd to me. First, cowbells. Second, the aid station was actually a buffet. I’d never seen or heard anything like it before. It was lively, friendly and fun?! Weird…
On I went. Runners were beginning to spread out at this point, and a mile or so later I spotted who I assumed was the 100 mile leader in the distance running towards me like a bullet. Instinctively, I jumped off the trail, cowering prematurely to avoid the “get out of the way!” I was expecting to hear him say. You see, in every other race I had participated in, either the leader themselves or their pacer has done a fabulous job of yelling at us hobby joggers to basically move the hell out of their way so they could pass without taking a nano second off of their finish time.
Not here.
You can imagine my astonishment when Aravaipa Racing Team’s Catlow Shipek – who would go on to set the still-standing 100 mile course record that day – looked at me standing there quivering in fear of being screamed at on the side of the trail and said, “Great work! Keep it up!”
My jaw dropped.
What did he just say to me?
“You, too!” I quickly stammered back before he was out of ear shot.
And that was how the rest of the day went: “Great job”. “Looking good”. “You can do it”. “You’re amazing”…Runners encouraging other runners on the trails in between the Aid Station buffet and its volunteer superheros with their incredibly motivating cow bells. It was SO much fun.
I bonked hard that day around mile 15 and was brought to tears when I actually had to hike. Ha! I had so much to learn. But, out of all of the lessons I did learn that day, the one that stuck with me the most was discovering that simply put, the trail running community has a heart and soul like no other. If you’re starting to lose faith in humanity, just come to a trail race. I guarantee your confidence will be restored.
I stumbled through the finish line that morning in 3 hours and 46 minutes, totally physically depleted but with the biggest smile on my face. I may have felt awful (I learned about Saltstick Caps at the next race) but my cup was overflowing.
I was introduced to a whole new level of awesome that day at Coldwater Rumble. Even now, the sights, sounds and energy at trail races are unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve failed many times trying to explain how special they are to others that have yet to experience it for themselves.
I’m so excited to come back once again to Coldwater Rumble this Saturday for the 7th year in a row to celebrate this unmatched community at the event where I was first introduced to it all back in 2014.
I hope you’ll all join me! ❤️