“What happened at Hagg?” That’s the question people keep asking me. I think they expect me to have some dramatic explanation that involves broken bones and blood, but it was not that dramatic. It was raining and cold from the beginning with no chance of it drying up. The terrain was so much muddier that I could have imagined and I was afraid of slipping. Every time I came to a really bad spot, which was constantly, I was scared, frustrated and angry. I knew there was no way I could run the circumference of the lake twice, so I decided to throw in the towel before I got hurt or went into hypothermia.
Do I regret it? No. I learned plenty from my experience at Hagg. I learned that training in deep mud is critical and that I am still a baby in trail racing. I learned that I hate the mud. I also learned how to quit a race before I was beat up, and that lesson is harder to learn that one may think.
I will attempt Hagg Lake again, because I want to beat it. I want to chew Hagg up and spit it out like it did to me. An eye for an eye.