Seneca Lake
date: 4/20/2024
total mileage: 75.7
Stage 10: Complete
“Remember that pain has this most excellent quality: If prolonged it cannot be severe, and if severe it cannot be prolonged.” – Seneca the Younger
Seneca Lake was my first introduction to the Finger Lakes, over close to twenty years ago. For someone who before that had only seen the ocean once before, Seneca seemed like this majestic deity well beyond my years of maturity— like the upperclassmen crush you knew you never had a chance with but for some reason remained captivated by such mystique beauty. The vast gentleness of these lands breathes life into those willing to sit and listen to her.
Every runner has a mental blueprint on race day. How are you going attack when you need to attack, pull back when you need to pull back, and surge when you see the most opportune time to surge. The night before Seneca, as I sat along its shores peering out into the dancing waves, a frequent mantra kept looping back in my head: ‘patient start, build strong, finish in it.’ The elements will be what they want to be, she will give you what she wants to give, and that is what is going to make it so God damn beautiful.
With a distance like this, it would be disastrous to look at the big picture. Running three marathons in a day and treating it like so would mean an early bedtime. The only way to approach this was to hit start and let my legs do what they know to do. No starting gun, no leading pacer group, and no time goal in mind. Just me and a date with a very dark Route 14.
Who needs the Wellesley College scream tunnel when you have Hobart fraternity row partying on the streets of Geneva at 3:30am to set the mood. They were probably just as confused as I was but then again, I was once a college kid in the final weekends of the spring semester as well.
Running at night on long open stretches of highway gives you no other choice than to be present with where you are. Not just for dodging the fresh roadkill from the unfortunate overnight commute, but because only seeing twenty feet ahead lets you become oblivious to any upcoming elevation gains, all of which were much more forgiving than most of the other lakes.
As the roosters began to wake, the farmers began their day, and dense fog began to burn off from the tops of the grapevines. Soon enough, these roads will be flooded with bachelorette limo buses and rubbernecking tourists pulling over to take selfies of waterfalls. Luckily, for the most part, the shoulders of the roads were wide enough to make it much of a threat.
Leading up to the run, people asked what if I don’t make it, or need to stop, or why not break it into separate runs. It simply was never an option. It was a task- regardless of its perceived undertaking. Like doing laundry, mowing the lawn, or filling your gas tank. It was simply a task that needed to get done. No Rocky theme song playing on repeat. No Instagram influencer spewing motivational horseshit for likes could have “pushed” me back to the top of that lake. When you look at it as a non-negotiable task, your inner bitch will eventually shut up and finish what needs to get done.
I am so grateful for the support from everyone leading up to this, those who came out to watch, and especially for my AMAZING crew in making sure the fuel tank was always topped off and pointing me in the right direction. This one was special. Keep. Moving. Forward.
Thank you to everyone's donations leading up to this weekend! Project 11 continues on. And then there was 1.