New Zealand ECO CHALLENGE 2001
Life Lessons in the Mountains
By Jenny Hadfield

Four months later I am still healing from this race. I thought finishing would be easier to put into words. It isn’t.  I continue to struggle to explain everything that happened.  The emotions are there, but the words are missing.  I changed on October 28^th. Perhaps that is what is so hard to tell.  The following is my story of reaching a dream so distant I never thought I could achieve it and what can be accomplished when people are willing to work together.

I remember the day I first got "captured" by the eco-challenge. I was watching the 1996 British Columbia race on TV.  It was as if I was racing vicariously as I watched. It was the answer for me, the ultimate challenge.   Since that time, I have been driven to compete: to finish. This year was my chance to do it. I was on a new team. I was prepared. I knew what to expect going in: Three hundred miles of trekking, mountain biking, rafting and ropes.  The team had a plan, but in adventure racing a plan can change in a matter of seconds. 

I left the team I had been training with all year two months before the Eco.  One week later I received an email asking me to race a team from California.  We talked on the phone. We planned online.  We knew the risks going in.  We didn't know how we would get along or if we were evenly matched, but none of that mattered because we all shared the same dream, to finish and race the Eco-challenge.

The team's objective was to place in the top 20 teams.  In doing so, we would have to navigate through 37 Passport control points on a brutal course that spanned the mountains of New Zealand.  Coming from Chicago, where runners wince at the incline of the expressway ramps, the mountains were both daunting and mysterious to me.  I knew I would have to work through my fear of heights but I had no idea what else was in my journey.

We started on shaking ground with 150 wild horses spread across a vast prairie land.  Helicopters, the media and volunteers were scattered everywhere.  Our horse was ready to win from the start and threw Chris off and ran for the first PC.  We caught up to him and had to push him 6 miles to the end of the horse leg.  Although we fell way back on the course it was still early and we stay focused.   Rich, the team captain was often heard saying "we are going to place in the top three teams".  I would laugh at his confidence but in the end that confidence pulled the team through the darkest moments. 

Like ants, we made our way up the first mountain summit. Rocks, boulders and scree (kitty litter) surrounded us.  Every step was unstable and full of risk.  Coming off the summit we were where we wanted to be, feeling strong, racing smart and in the top 20.  It all felt so good, until I stepped into a knee-deep hole and heard a snap!   My ankle was sprained. Badly. I cried out loud "no, no, no, why?"  Rich reached in his pack to break the seal on the radio to call for help.  It was in that moment that I was faced with giving up and going home or adapting to the injury and continuing on. The team pulled together and we modified our plan. The new team goal became getting to one PC at a time. We were bonded in a way that still brings tears to my eyes. 

I have never been "the injured" one. This was my lesson in accepting help.  Without hesitation, they helped me across mounds of rock and mountains of scree.  They carried my pack and told me funny stories.  They listened to me cry out in pain and hugged me when I had doubt. They helped me push my bike up a 10,000 foot mountain and carried the 200-pound raft across an island.  They defended me when the infamous race director Mark Burnett (Survivor) asked me what made me think I could finish with a sprained ankle. My job was narrowed to simply moving forward.  One step at a time for days on end.  On the last night as I crawled down a mountain I finally broke down. I cried as I moved and when I stopped. I cried to cleanse my soul of the negativity.  Beneath all the tears I found an inner strength so strong it scared me.  My mind carried my body through this brutal course. My soul carried me to that finish line. In the end, I was stunned at discovering my limits and realizing my potential.  But my proudest moment was standing on the podium with my teammates.  We stood in shock that we actually made it.  Somehow I thought I would feel differently, but it was just me.  Me. Not a super woman, but a woman who had tapped into her inner strength and learned how to accept help. 

Special thanks to Alex McKinney, Physical Therapist from Athletico for saving my ankle and helping maintain my sanity as I heal.