"Do you think you'll win this year?" is one of many similarly phrased questions I have received in the past month about the 2018 Mount Summit Challenge. 

My response? Head shaking, laughing, shrugging, smiling a "yikes no way!" type of smile or replying that I was not really sure how I would do, and that I was not focused on the win like years past. 

Here are how my past two goals looked:

2015 Mount Summit Challenge Goal: To win Top Three Females. I wrote this on my dry erase board and practiced for the win. I won second female. 

2016 Mount Summit Challenge Goal: To win first female. I wrote this in a visible place, became obsessed with it, did speed work, tempos, hill repeats, ran the course once a week for two months leading up to the race and visualized the win on a daily basis. I won first female. Why? For my dad, because he said that I could.  

Here was this year's goal: To run my best under the circumstances and enjoy the day with friends, the Trail Run Tribe ladies who were running, family who came to support and my husband, Eric, who would be running it for his first time. One might even say I had zero goals and that these were more like soft intentions :)

Go, Trail Run Tribe!
Clockwise, from the top: Me, Brynn, 5th overall female with a time of 32:39 and first in my age group; Colleen, 4th overall female with a time of 32:26 and first in her age group; Keli, second in her age group; Andrea; Shane; June, first in her age group; and Ashley. Thank you, Rachel, for being our cheerleader and photographer! <3

But I had a variety of emotions. 

Grief.

Longing. 

Joy.

Wonderment.

Excitement. 

Hope.

Humility.

Gratitude. 

Faith.

Awe.

Contentment.

You may think that these are rather intense feelings for an amateur, local 3.5-mile uphill road race traveling along a highway with 1200-foot elevation gain. 

Yet, please understand - my relationship with the Mount Summit Challenge began with my dying father. 

Grief.

In October 2012, as he lie in a hospital bed and told me about the Mount Summit Challenge, my thought was this: "Dad will recuperate, I will run in the 2013 race, and he will be there at the top screaming his lungs out, cheering as he does best!"

Longing.

He had just missed my 27-mile ultra trail marathon the day before, a 5K in my hometown the week prior and was not going to make it to the Seven Springs Mud on the Mountain the following week, all due to his hospitalization. We were both saddened by the fact that he had to miss three races. He enjoyed watching me race as much as I enjoyed racing. 

Even sadder still was the fact that he did not make it to the 2013 Mount Summit Challenge as I had wished... but neither did I. Because soon I found out that Eric and I would be having our first child!  

Now, let's fast-forward.

In 2014, when our new baby, Avie, was 10 months old, I longed to race in my first Mount Summit Challenge in honor of my now deceased father, who died four weeks before Avie's birth, but plantar fasciitis and a heel spur squashed that dream. 

Joy.

In 2015, while wearing my randomly selected bib number of 52, my dad's birth year, I won second overall female with a time and personal record of 30:31. Read about it in Spring Race Recap: How Injury, Death & Childbirth Made Me a Stronger Runner. 

The miraculous story began on that day, at my very first Mount Summit Challenge, when my dad showed up in a divine way via my bib. Since then, he has graced me with his spirit at nearly all my races (read the miracle list here!). In fact, it happened for the 11th time on April 22, 2018, at my third Mount Summit Challenge. Keep reading to see how, but first, I'll continue with the year recaps...

Wonderment.

In 2016, while wearing my randomly selected bib number of 152, my dad's birth date and birth year, I won first overall female with a time of 31:04. Read about it in Dad, I Won the Mount Summit Challenge For You. (warning: grab a box of tissues!)

Excitement.

In 2017, our second son, Grey, was four weeks old. We took him to the finish line to cheer on the racers, particularly the women. Read about it in Running Up That Hill: It All Started With You, Dad.

Hope.

Thus, on the days leading up to this year's race, I pondered how he would show up, and if he even would. Would it be possible to get another bib reflecting his birthday? Even more, what if he didn't give me any signs of his presence? If he did not, I prepared to deal with a sure feeling of emptiness. Although I had carpooled to the race with Eric and friends, Colleen, Andrea and Shane and had met Keli, Ashley and June at the start line, and had hugged and been eager to see two dozen other fellow runners and friends... still... this is where my dad first met me after his death... and my bib number of 62 did not quite do it.

Humility. 

Off we went! I ran my best under the circumstances, with just 90 minutes of sleep the night before, as Grey cried nearly all night (he sleeps well 99.9 percent of the time lol!) combined with a dry cough and sore throat that suddenly crept up and worsened as the night progressed. 

(Read the research on how sleep impacts athletic performance here)

Gratitude. 

The age of the first overall female was 52, my dad's birth year.

​I placed 5th female and 20th overall runner (5/20). 

And here's my favorite: Eric placed 50th runner. I placed 20th. 50/20. He connected us!!! What love.

Three times in one race. Impressive, dad.

Thank you for always finding your way to my races, whether my goal is to win or my intention is to simply run my best and enjoy the company of loved ones.  

Faith.

Awe.

Contentment. ​

With love,
​Brynn <3

Flashback to Sunday, April 2, 2017

1:30 a.m. A strong contraction awoke me.

2 a.m. Contractions became stronger and closer together. I could no longer lie in bed. I woke up and began walking laps around the house.

2:30 a.m. "Eric," I said between breaths. "This (inhale)....is (exhale) ...labor," and I left the bedroom to continue walking, squatting, lunging, walking... Over the past two months, since week 26, I had been waking up with intense Braxton Hicks contractions. But this time I knew. These were the real thing.

​3 a.m. Vomiting began. I vomited one time at around hour 10 out of a 20-hour labor with my first son, Avie, but this was different. This time, I threw up over and over, in between and during contractions. The intensity paired with multiple bodily reactions overwhelmed me to tears and nearly to fear. Luckily, the principles of one-pointed concentration, focused breath, positive thinking, mantra and prayer derived from my disciplined yoga practice and Catholic faith overcame the terror and transformed it to functional movement and a sense of presence and trust in the process.

4:28 a.m. The first midwife arrived to me in the birthing tub, which was set up in our living room. "Vocalizing. Lots of good movement (hip swaying, etc.)," she wrote in our birth notes. The following times and notes are from the pen of our two midwives. My thoughts are in italics. 

5:13 a.m. Fetal heart rate = 125-132. Lots of position changes. Set up for birth. 

5:42 a.m. Deep lunges through contractions.

6:16 a.m. Fetal heart rate = 120s to 130s. 

6:48 a.m. Mother shaking. Trembling is a good sign that labor is progressing, they told me. It felt anything but good!  

6:54 a.m. Vernix. My water broke as I was standing up in the tub. The audible pop and sudden gush of water splashing into the pool made me laugh... ahhh, some comic relief! The midwives noted that the water contained vernix from baby's body. Oh, closer to meeting my sweet one! And how very different from Avie's labor, when the breaking of the water began the onset of his labor. 

7:07 a.m. Pushing on the floor. I found solace perched upon my number one comfort object, my Prana Revolution yoga mat. It was around this time that Avie woke up. Eric carried him around for the remainder of the birth.

7:18 a.m. In pool. At this point, the midwives urged me to choose to stay in or out of the pool. In other words, the baby was near, and I needed to choose a location for it's final arrival. Like Avie's birth, I got out of the water. 

7:36 a.m. Head. This is when the pain felt different. I was back on my yoga mat, and baby's cord was wrapped around it's shoulders, which kept the chest broad and unable to collapse for the exit. One of the midwives had to manually unwrap the cord. With baby and hands stretching me to my limits, I let out a blood-curdling scream. Baby was stuck this way for four minutes. The thought sends shivers throughout my entire body.

7:40 a.m. Baby.    

7:41 a.m. First breath. 

7:53 a.m. Latched. IT'S A BOY!!!! More crying. 

8 a.m. Placenta.  

Fast forward to now, Monday, April 2, 2018 

​Happy first birthday, Grey Gibbons Harder!

"Avie," I said to my oldest son, "what do you remember most about the day Grey was born?"

"I remember...

1. "You in the pool."
I was in and out of the pool, which was a wonderful birthing tool. Yet, like Avie, I had both of my sons out of the water. 

2. "Hearing Grey cry. It was a very noisy living room, because so many people were there." 
Our two home birth midwives were like cheerleaders. For each contraction, they expressed enthusiastic encouragements such as, "Good one!" Between their cheers, my birth sounds and then Grey's first cry, it was indeed noisy.  

3. "Seeing him and saying, 'I love my baby brother!'"
The baby's gender was a surprise... the greatest of surprises. Avie's bright face as he said these words and ran to me and Grey melted my soul.

4. "Holding Grey's hand."
As I held our newborn for the first time, Avie climbed on the couch behind me and took his hand. It was brotherly love at first sight. I did not know this was happening, but luckily a midwife captured the moment for us. 

5. "Cutting the umbilical cord."
Avie, ever the focused, self-aware, observant child, eagerly took on his duty of cutting the cord. 

6. "Weighing Grey."
8 lbs, 13 oz.!!! The midwives were laughing and gleeful, saying, "we love when the tiny moms have huge babies!" and, "usually pushing out the second child is easier but not when it's three pounds bigger than the first!" Avie had weighed 5 lbs, 12 oz. at birth. We all laughed in amazement. Yet, like Avie, Grey was 21 and 1/4 inches long.

Grey, we hope you enjoyed your birth story. We love you with all our hearts.

xo,
​Mom (Brynn) and Avie