Embrace the Struggle
From racing to the finish line to racing to capture the shot, I returned to the trail to embrace a community and experience the Thrill in the Hills.
I used to be a trail runner. I used to thrive on early mornings, long miles, and races that pushed me to the limit. But injuries and life pulled me off the trails, and what was once routine have become a distant memory.
This weekend, I decided to get back in touch with my roots by volunteering to photograph the Thrill in the Hills trail race at Fort Yargo State Park. This was a race I once participated in and would get to again -- only this time I had a camera, rather than a racing bib. Instead of fighting through pain to finish the race, I had to fight through rain to complete the task.
When my alarm went off at 5AM, I could also hear rain hitting the house. Short of lightning, weather is never a reason for a trail race to be canceled. A little rain never hurt anyone. Camera equipment, however, will definitely be destroyed in rainy conditions; so I needed to protect mine. So I grabbed a couple of trash bags, put on my trail shoes, and headed out to the start line; like I have done so many times before.
Plenty of racers were onsite when I arrived shortly after 6AM, preparing for the first wave to take off at 7:30. Seeing everyone prepare for a battle against themselves reminded me of how much I missed it. Grabbing the race bib, stretching out, and taking a few laps -- it was ritualistic. My preparation was just as ritualistic; but different this time.
I prepped the gear, met with the race organizer (who informed me of a slight course change), and began mental preparations of where I could get the best shots. As a one person crew, I needed to be strategic. Three races (5 Miler, 21K, and 50K) were set to begin in thirty minute increments, which meant I had to be precise with the timing. The racers would have to navigate the muddy, slippery course; I would have to navigate the logistical challenges and rain.
"Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”
-Mike Tyson
Rain makes everything frustrating. For a trail runner, you have to really watch your footing and be prepared to slip. For a photographer, you have to protect your gear and constantly keep it dry.
Originally, I planned to shoot with two cameras to reduce the need for lens changes. But when I discovered the rainy weather, I decided to keep one camera body stored away just in case the main one malfunctioned. I could not risk having both go down during an 8 hour shoot day. Despite the precautions, I still had issues.
The camera randomly froze multiple times as I was trying to capture racers crossing the finish line. My DJI Osmo Pocket camera fell out of my pocket, causing the memory card to corrupt. All my video footage, unusable. On top of that, I made mistakes with approximating the finish times for the 5 mile and 21K racers, leading to quite a few missed shots. Being a one-person crew can be like that sometimes.
As I documented the day, I noticed many racers facing their own struggles on the trails. Many were battered and bruised. Every now and then a racer would slow down to show off their bloody battle scars. Gravel-crusted wounds from a tumble they had probably taken just before being photographed. More than a few runners had clothes covered in mud, an obvious indicator of someone losing their footing and taking a big tumble to the ground. And the 50K runners were easily spotted by their looks of exhaustion and narrow gait.
I tried to capture as much as I could, navigating the rain, camera issues, and a moment of torrential downpour that forced me to retreat for cover. Just like the runners, I had my own challenges to navigate which reminded me of how much I missed this venue. Seeing the look of combined joy and pain as each racer crossed the finish line was a reminder of something I first learned on the trail -- embrace the struggle.
