Inhale, Exhale, Run
  • Home
  • About
  • Running Stories
  • Races & FKTs
  • Blog
  • Yoga Videos
  • Yoga Schedule
  • Running for an Angel
  • Yoga for Runners
  • Group & Private Yoga
  • Trail Run Tribe

Dad, I Won the Mount Summit Challenge for You

4/30/2016

12 Comments

 
Picture
 ​     On Sunday, April 24, I finished first overall female with a time of 31:04 in the 34th annual Mount Summit Challenge, a 3.5-mile uphill course that gains 1,200 feet in elevation and travels from Hopwood, Pa., along Route 40, to the Summit Inn Hotel, where the finish line offers a beautiful view of the city below. 251 runners competed that day, and I won 12th out of men and women. 
     Winning in and of itself is exciting. But let me tell you what winning really means to me. Let me tell you why, during the past four months of training, I have become so emotional about my intention to win that tears frequently welled up in my eyes mid-run and even while driving up the Summit toward my home in my mountains. 
     When I first considered running the Mount Summit Challenge four years ago, I had no compelling reason to do so except that I really enjoy running uphill. My late father, A.J. Cunningham, encouraged me to run it.
     "Brynny," he said, "the race you need to do is the Summit. Now that's a race." He was lying in a hospital bed, and I was telling him about a 27-mile trail race I had completed the day before.
     Despite growing up 15 minutes from it's finish line, I did not know about the event. However, soon after my dad told me about it that October day in 2012, I set my sights on it. Then I found out I was pregnant and due a couple months after the race. My plans were put on the back burner.      
     This conversation we had about the Summit was one of the last coherent verbal exchanges we ever shared. For the next several months, he remained hospitalized, and, after much suffering, finally passed on June 1, 2013. Four weeks later, on June 28, I gave birth to my son, Avie. Busy with motherhood, the Mount Summit Challenge did not pique my interest again until my son was about a year old. During the summer of 2014, after recovering from several pregnancy/running-related injuries, I finally felt ready to run again. 
     And so, one year ago, the 2015 Mount Summit Challenge became my first postpartum race and first race since the death of my father. I finished second overall female with a time of 30:31 and seventh overall out of men and women. I was ecstatic, because my goal was to place among top three females. 
     Yet, more meaningful than my place was my bib number. By chance, it was 52, my dad's birth year. Little did I know, this would not be the only time he would show up during those key pre-race moments. It would happen three more times. Keep reading, and you'll see you how. 
     Two months later, I raced in a 15.5-mile trail run, part of the Pyle Run and Ride Festival, held in my hometown, Ohiopyle, Pa. Once again, my dad made his presence known in the form of my bib number. This time, by chance, it was 252. My dad was born in the second month of the year, February 15, 1952, to be exact. Coincidence? To me, there are no coincidences.  
     Again, I placed second overall female, and I was happy, because my goal was to place among top three females. (Read the full story of these races in Spring Race Recap: How Injury, Childbirth & Death Made Me a Stronger Runner.) Two second places in a row did not begin to eat at me... until it would happen again months later. 
     But not yet! The third race I ran last year was the Wisconsin North Face Endurance Challenge 10K trail race. I placed fourth overall female and first in my age group with a personal record of 49:06. Again, with a little divine intervention from my father, I achieved my goals of ranking among top five females and running a sub-50.  
     This time my dad arrived via song. As Eric (then my fiance, now my husband!) and I pulled into the event parking area, Jewel's "My Father's Daughter," began playing on the radio. We looked at each other in awe. I held my face in my hands and cried as we waited for the song to finish. When it did, I emerged from the vehicle more than ready to be my father's daughter, a runner through and through. Read the full 10K story here.
     There's more. For the third time last year, I won second overall female and set a personal record of 20:12 in the Town Bank Turkey Trot 5K in Burlington, WI, on Thanksgiving Day. While winning second overall was rewarding the first two times, and even the third time, it began to irk me a little. My dad did not appear, but I believe this third second place was him sending me the message that I needed to have as much faith in myself as he always has and to set my goals a little higher. Read the full 5K story here.
     So, I knew what I had to do. First, I had to wholeheartedly believe that I was capable of winning first place. In last year's races, I never said that I wanted first specifically, and, subsequently, I didn't get it. My goals were to place among the top three overall, and for the North Face Challenge, among top five. Did that make a difference in my results? Absolutely! After all, if we believe deeply enough in something, it has huge potential for manifestation.
     Thus, I sat down with myself one day in quiet reflection and came out of it in earnest, knowing that I wanted to and, even more, feeling that I was good enough to win first female in the 2016 Mount Summit Challenge.
     Why did I want first place? The answer is obvious. For my dad, my race angel.
     To show him that I knew he was there last year when I kept meeting my goals yet somehow falling short, not rising to full potential.
     To show him those bib numbers he sent me from the heavens and that song he played for me did not go unnoticed.
      To give him my utmost gratitude for attending every high school track meet.
     To thank him for cheering louder and more wildly than anyone when I broke the 400 meter dash record with a time of 61.3 as a high school senior.
     To tell him he's the first person I'd call after every post-college race. 
     To connect to him in a physical, spiritual, personal way.
     To give him a good race to watch from his bleachers in the sky.
     To show him that I have enough heart, soul and grit to not settle for second place again, at least not this time.
    And, most of all, to assure him that the void that hollowed out my heart upon his death has been fulfilled because of running, this beautiful thing we have always loved together.

Picture
     ​​Thus, this year, on Sunday, April 24, I woke up with a surreal sense of self-assurance and knowing. I absolutely knew that I would win, and this gave me a sense of peace. The urgency I felt during training was gone. I would have bet one million dollars on the win, because, for one, I knew how hard I trained. Secondly, I knew that I could endure 30 minutes of pain to reach such a personal, emotionally infused, meaningly goal. 
     In truth, I did not expect an awe-inspiring bib number for a third time, but, as you'll soon see, boy, was I wrong! That morning at home, before I knew what my bib would be, I thought of ways to carry my dad with me during the race. First, I considered inscribing the number 52 on my bicep with a Sharpie, but that seemed a bit too juvenile and not exactly my style. Then, I strung his high school ring around a necklace, but that felt too heavy. Finally, I zipped the ring in a small pocket on my running pants and drove to the start line.
     It was a warm, sunny, slightly muggy morning. As I approached the check-in table, that surreal feeling of calm enveloping me all morning slowly began to slip away. Nervousness crept in. Quickly, though, peace of mind returned as I was handed my race bib. It was 152. My jaw dropped. Tears pushed through. My heart pounded. Desire grew. 
     Stunned, I gripped the table with both hands and took some deep breaths. How? How could that possibly be? A 52, my dad's birth year, again? This time with a 1 in front of it, representing my goal of being number one? The message was clear. "Hell, Brynny, get that first place already! Do it for me! I don't think I can cheer any louder than this!" I was shaking with awe and a growing determination, and I knew my dad wanted the win as badly as I.   
     I ran to my car, removed his high school ring from my pocket, changed from pants into my favorite Oiselle running shorts, found my friend Angela, a race volunteer, to pin my bib for me (my shaking hands were failing to do the job), and bounded to the start line. 
     Nerves subsided a bit when I found my place next to fellow coach (I'm a volunteer) Matt Girod, Uniontown High School Girls Track & Field Head Coach, and again when a dear friend's husband, Jerrod Murtha, made his way toward us. Ah, the peace of good company.
     Then something happened. A young man adorned in red, white and blue running shorts confidently strode up to me and held out his hand for a handshake. I gripped it, and with a big smile, he said, "Good luck." He walked away with head held high. I recognized that energy. It was the same energy I experienced when I woke up that morning, and I immediately tuned back into it. Thank you for that transferal of energy!
     It would turn out that this man, Matt Lipsey, whom I formally met at the finish, would win first place male. When I approached him after finishing, we congratulated each other on our wins, and I asked him how we knew one another. We didn't, he said. He could simply see that I was there for a reason. He could feel my desire, perhaps even see it in my eyes, and was not surprised at my results. Thank you, Matt Lipsey, for that wonderful moment and great energy.  
      Back to the start of the race... while waiting for the gun to fire, Matt Girod said to me, "You goin' for it?" To which I responded, "Yep." The gun fired, and we were off.  
     For my own mental game, taking the lead from the beginning was necessary. I ran my first mile faster than experts might suggest, but it put me in the lead of females and kept me there the entire race. Many times I wanted to fade back, but Jerrod, whom I credit for keeping my spirits high, was right beside me, encouraging me to stay with it. Thank you, Jerrod, more than you know! 
     During the last half mile, the steepest section of the course, I glanced behind me and saw a female nearby - not too close to be worried, but close enough. I began bounding toward the finish with everything I had, legs heavy with heat and heart heavy with desire.
     It was both pure ecstasy and pure hell as I crossed the finish line as first female. I was so overwhelmed with emotion, pointing out my bib number to friends, probably even strangers, my husband, mom, identical twin sister, and son, who kept handing me water as he was highly concerned about my state of being as I gasped for air, lay in the grass face first, jumped around, spit, stretched sporadically, screamed with glee and finally recovered after 20 minutes of writhing in pain and joy.
     We attended the post-race party, I received a trophy and dear friends congratulated and hugged me, especially those who knew the stories of my dad showing up at my races. I shared the story with those who didn't know, showing them my bib of 152, which I kept on for as long as possible that day.
     My husband, Eric, eventually took me and Avie to the bottom of the mountain to pick up the car I drove to the race that morning. As Avie and I began driving back up the Summit, along the race course, tears burst through stronger than ever. 
     "No cry, mommy," Avie said sweetly. "I'm crying because I'm really happy," I explained. "Oh," he said and smiled. "You ran really fast, mommy," to which I nodded and said, "Yea, for my dad." 


Picture
12 Comments
Tara Morris
4/30/2016 08:17:38 am

When I left my home that day, driving along Skyline Dr. to meet our Mom, Eric, and Avie at the top of the Summit, I thought, I'm going to see my sister win today! I was so excited! There was no other thought in my head! I forgot about the bib numbers. I just knew when you set your mind to win, it was going to happen. When Mom, Eric, Avie, and I walked toward the finish line to wait for you, they told me your bib number was 152! I was stunned! I almost cried but I was even more excited to see you win! And to talk about the bib number! There was no doubt in my mind that you would be the first female running up that mountain. We waited along the road to see you running toward the finish line, first female, of course! I could hear Dad's cheers! Love you!

Reply
Brynn Cunningham
5/8/2016 09:12:51 am

LOVE YOU!!! :)

Reply
Marge and Fenton
4/30/2016 09:32:42 am

We never got to meet AJ, but we know what kind of man he was, what a loving father he was--because it can be seen in his two daughters, Brynn and Tara. His character shines through their character. Brynn, like Tara said, we knew Mt. Summit Challenge 2016 was to be your race-and we know that AJ knew it too!

Reply
Brynn Cunningham
5/16/2016 08:03:16 am

Thanks!!! Love you!

Reply
shelly
4/30/2016 08:45:09 pm

Loved the read. What an experience for u. Lots of emotions felt reading it. Love u.

Reply
Sarah Warman
5/3/2016 10:44:11 am

What a great race and write up! I remember your Dad coming to the track meets and cheering you on. That is really crazy about the bib numbers! Congratulations on your win! You amaze me!

Reply
Michael Waller
5/13/2016 07:41:49 pm

Brynn ,

It truly is an honor to work with you .
When you asked earlier that week if I could manage to provide a Rolfing session for you before the race. I was glad to.
I was on one of my usual long haul runs and was in Southern West Virginia when you asked , I had already left my weekends' schedule open as I was considering a bit of down time but when you asked ;
I knew what this event means to you , and having prepared you for your first effort the year before, the first answer is always yes.

As soon as I began in that direction, four other clients in Pittsburgh checked in asking for my time ASAP , so , well keeping busy is never an issue for me . Remaining rested , and presenting some level of organization - that's another story.

What's 275 miles between friends.

I purposely arranged a room at The Summit Inn for your appointment , with the long view overlooking the finish line.

When the sun broke thru at sunset just as we were getting started; I knew good things were waiting for you.

I know how much this event means to you ,
I'm really proud of you and your many accomplishments .

You are my daughter Quinn's hero , she so admires you for your writing , the whole family scene you've got at home : handsome and supportive husband,Eric ; amazing son , so cute , Avie.
She wants a life just like yours .

You know , dedicated and purpose.

Reply
Brynn Cunningham
5/16/2016 08:13:21 am

Michael,
Thank you so much for the thoughtful comment. It means so much to me that you made such special arrangements for an event that was so close to my heart. We could keep it a tradition - Rolfing at the Summit before the Summit ha! Aww, Quinn, she's amazing. If she follows her heart she'll have an amazing life :)

Reply
Rita Lukas
6/2/2016 07:48:57 am

Dear Brynn:
I am sobbing right now with no ability to stop because your story is so beautiful and loving. It touches me deeply. I miss your Dad, my brohter, as much as you and Tara do, but am comforted by your enduring connection to him. That connection exists solely from the power of the love you share with each other. You ran an amazing
race! What I will always cherish is the knowledge that you and Tara represent the absolute BEST my brother brought forth during his time with us.

Love,
Aunt Rita

Reply
Kelly Ogiba
2/16/2017 12:27:16 pm

Hi Brynn,
I stumbled upon your story above, and it certainly brought tears to my eyes! As a runner, I can picture (and feel) that sense of motivation, pain, and joy. The signs from your dad are very surreal. Congratulations, and I hope all is well!

Reply
Brynn Cunningham
2/24/2017 03:22:29 pm

Hi, Kelly! Thank you for the sweet note! It was great to hear from you. They truly are surreal. It's pretty amazing! I hope all is well, and thank you again for reaching out :)

Reply
Logan Warner link
12/22/2020 03:53:51 am

Greatt reading your blog

Reply

Your comment will be posted after it is approved.


Leave a Reply.

    Picture

    Brynn Estella

    Yoga Instructor, RYT 200
    Runner
    ​Writer

    Inspire, dream, move, explore -- these are the elements that drive my life, and I want to share them with you. 

    Picture

    Archives

    August 2021
    April 2020
    March 2020
    January 2020
    September 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    February 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    September 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    March 2015
    October 2014
    August 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014

    Categories:

    All

    RSS Feed

I Would Love to Hear From You!


Email

brynnestella7@gmail.com

Photography by Colleen O'Neil