Hard work and opportunity
And the nuance within these concepts
The harder you work, the more opportunity you create for the future.
—Jon Rea on The Freetrail Podcast
Rea’s words reminded me of the platitude, luck is when preparation meets opportunity. I often liken this to tangible results and external circumstances—formally transitioning into a leadership role at work, receiving recognition for delivering a result born from pushing my limits and engaging my curiosity.
The linkage of hard work and preparation and opportunity is more so an internal experience now.
The internal shift started after one of my usual weekly long runs.
For the past nine months, I have completed a trail run at least once a week. There was no deliberate goal-setting involved; this weekend routine, truly, just happened. The once-a-week runs slowly increased in duration and continued doing their magic in easing my overcrowded mind. I was finally able to relax. Time suspends itself to the illusion that the rest of the world pauses while I put one foot in front of another.
This weekly long run simply became habit.
It was a wonderful day to be outside, partly cloudy with temperatures maxing out at 60 degrees F, subtle gusts of wind, and occasional bursts of sunshine. I had chosen a route that was one of my first targeted half-marathon distances on the trail several months ago. I wondered how the Pacific coast would look on this overcast day, if the clouds and the sea would appear submerged with the tips of high rise buildings in Downtown Los Angeles from my vantage point.
It began with the usual slog up the 15.2% grade stretch, which always leaves me breathless at the top. The trails were quieter than usual; mountain bikers were few and far between, and the birds were singing their songs with greater gusto.
My Garmin watch became my friend again, despite my anti-watch tirade at the beginning of the year. There is a kind of satisfaction in seeing the numbers over time, and a funny discrepancy in observing how my watch and my body communicate different information to me. Garmin may say, you’re rested and ready! and the body may say, you need to sleep another hour before you should even try rolling out of bed. Nevertheless, the watch was pivotal for this run in providing actual stats in relation to how invigored my body felt.
I found myself lifting my legs with greater intention as I traversed up segments I historically walked while dragging my feet across the dirt. I ran longer stints at paces I believed were only achievable for my shorter road runs on flat, paved surfaces. As I continued into double digit mileage, I found myself wanting to go all-out, and my body obliged with some solid sprints.
Garmin later revealed that this run was one of my top trail running performances yet.
My body felt powerful the entire run. I shaved a minute off my typical average pace running on this terrain. The excitement settled in as I recognized that I could run greater distances in the same amount of time. I could explore new mountain peaks and scenic viewpoints with my own two feet that once felt unreachable. It was exhilarating. The possibilities felt endless. I surprised myself.
The imposter syndrome and you-got-lucky thoughts still intruded as I reviewed my stats. A few days prior, I finally found a hydration pack that fit me snugly to the point where I almost forgot I was carrying it, and I was wearing trail running shoes that felt like a promising shoe-foot relationship at last. This gear iteration was holding up. The brain said, you only ran well because you had the right gear. Try this run with your last pair of shoes and your old floppy vest.
You know what, brain? Try putting a pair of supershoes on my feet right now, make me run a mile, and I guarantee you that I will not exceed my fastest mile time. I won’t break any personal records, regardless of shoe, because I haven’t bothered putting in the work as a track runner.
I digress.
I still am not able to articulate why I am primitively driven to keep running, and what pushes me to optimize my schedule such that I am able to complete my day-to-day priorities while dedicating time and space to a longer trail run at least once a week. My race registration count continues to be zero (though I hope to change this soon), and I am neither coached nor training with a running group. I started trail running in the summer of 2023 with an open mind and no concept of what my running future could look like. I simply decided to try this activity, and when my spirits were uplifted after each run, I kept showing up for myself. I kept running, especially when the legs were tired and rolling hills were endless. I was fueled by my desire to be consistent, by curiosity, and by the intense feeling of wholeness from trail running that doesn’t surface from other activities.
When I think of Jon Rea’s words on the relationship between hard work and opportunity, I recognize that the biggest opportunities are the ones I give myself permission for.
Hard work transforms the brain to believe that I am qualified to try something that once seemed unfathomable—not because I have a chance of succeeding, but because I know that the greatest success is from learning through the mundane, disciplined act of showing up daily. The once unfathomable becomes a real possibility after the confidence builds one run at a time, when I realize, wow, I am actually getting better at this thing just by constantly showing up for it and being open to the experience. I have learned that the hard work lies in reprioritization and scaling back just as much as it is in pushing my limits. I have seen hard work transform to opportunity in spheres outside of running, from the focus I put in my relationships and career, which is always governed by the work I put in continual learning. Hard work often consists of learning how to learn. Roadblocks transform into opportunities when reframed with, I have the privilege to face these difficulties and experience this pressure. Let’s give this a shot.
For the younger me who never thought she could amount to any level of athleticism beyond recreational gym workouts, who very frequently resorted to the pessimism of believing that what she fought for was not worthwhile by external metrics, I want to tell her: you are worth fighting for. And you will discover that you are worth fighting for as you run the trails, the humbling experience of putting your body to the test against the undulating surface of the Earth as you exert yourself to the fullest. You will realize that being the person who goes to bed knowing she experienced her day wholeheartedly, that being the person who looks forward with an unwavering faith in herself, is worth fighting for. You fight for the continued belief in yourself in a world that makes you believe in scarcity that makes you believe you aren’t there. You have always been worth fighting for; you just needed a little oomph to help you recognize that.
So keep going. You are the one creating and recognizing opportunities for yourself. Your vision of opportunity was blurry until the day you decided to try, and decided to keep showing up, to keep the curiosity around what could be possible if you encouraged yourself to take just one step further each time.
Some fun: running gear!
If you are still reading this, thank you for being here! I hope my writing is encouraging to you, whether you are a runner or not. Here’s to something entertaining: running gear that I am enjoying.
There are more than enough gear reviews on the internet, and I am certain I have read almost every single one. (It’s okay, I still can’t point exactly to the “midsole” of a shoe if you asked me to. I also can’t clearly differentiate between a “light” trail shoe and a “rugged” trail shoe—I swear, the tread style looks the same.) Shortly into my trail running journey, I learned that I had been wearing shoes a size too small for my entire life. I’ve learned about heel-to-toe drops, trail shoe lugs, hydration methods, and what the heck I should eat when I’m running for a few hours and my breakfast fuel is depleted. My brain also inevitably swirled around, how will I carry my water? Phone? Keys? What if it gets cold and I want to put on a light jacket?
As my running volume increased, I’ve become much more intentional with my running-related purchases. Gear becomes very expensive very quickly. I’ve tried many a shoe where the heel would slip but my toes felt cramped. I’ve ran with a water bladder and one soft flask, two soft flasks only and no bladder, sometimes filled with Gatorade and water or some combination thereof, and every variation in-between that you can think of.
I won’t belabor you with what has not worked for me—but here are a few pieces of gear that have made my recent runs much more enjoyable, including the run I shared in this piece. These opinions are my own and nobody has incentivized me to share these… other than myself, after so many trials and tribulations with all the gear options available!
THE SHOES. I have only put in close to 30 miles on the Merrell Agility Peak 4 across two runs. Unfortunately, I find that my problems with shoes tend to arise when I get closer to the 100-mile mark with them, and at that point, it’s goodbye—there’s no tell-tale sign other than very unwanted foot sensations and some almost-blistered toes from the repeated use. However, these have been the most enjoyable first 30-miles with any trail running shoe I’ve worn. I feel my feet close to the ground but am simultaneously protected from any unwanted impacts. A 6-mm drop seems to be the sweet spot for me—not too high such that the run is disrupted by the sensation of an artificial pillow slapped against my feet, but not too low such that my legs are exerting more energy than they can muster. My feet don’t slide around but still have room to breathe.
THE PACK. Alright, hydration packs. It has been challenging to find a pack that fits my body type—slender but broader-chested. I am currently enjoying the Osprey Dyna 1.5 Liter. My previous two packs were larger capacity—5 liters and 8 liters—and were both advertised as trail running packs. Despite following the size guides and determining that a size down or up would be a poor fit, I still experienced discomfort during runs, mostly from micro-bouncing. The 8-liter pack has since turned into a hiking pack (which is working out great—it has enough space to hold supplies for both me and my dog, Hubble, for a solid day hike). I decided to try a smaller 1.5 liter pack to just hold the essentials during runs—food, keys, wallet, phone, and hydration. The Osprey Dyna 1.5 is what I needed.
THE EATS AND DRINKS DURING THE RUN. The Osprey Dyna 1.5 works well with these Hydrapak 0.5-liter soft flasks, which I store in the front pockets—typically one with water and one with Gatorade. In the Dyna’s side compartments, I stuff Lara Bars and Noka Smoothie Pouches. (I haven’t tried any brand of gels as the ingredients and sugar content make me nauseous just looking at them.) Love me a good Lara Bar any day. I look forward to eating those mid-run every week.
This was fun! I am curious to hear about the gear choices and tactics that have elevated others’ running experiences. As my body inevitably continues to change and my needs evolve, I am sure this list will change as well. (The shoes are the most fun for me. I am swayed by shoe aesthetics.)
As always, thanks for being here. Go create your magic juju, bathe in your place of peace, and I will see you next time.
-Jessica
I love this line so much: " ...a funny discrepancy in observing how my watch and my body communicate different information to me." What an intriguing thought to ponder.