A few months ago I shared how I registered for Chase the Moon, an overnight trail event that was on my adventure bucket list. This past weekend I completed that race, and it was as magical and challenging as I had hoped.

The course was a 10.3 mile loop in a Colorado open space with a massive network of trails—miles and miles of rollercoaster singletrack. There were vistas and views of the Rocky Mountain Front Range, plus the promise of a full moon to help light the way through the night. I registered for the 12-hour solo event, aiming to complete 3 laps and be on the course long enough to watch the sunrise. Here’s how it went.

My gear: The course was gently rolling with some climbing, but nothing so technical I felt the need for trekking poles. I wore my trusty hydration pack and stashed a light jacket in case I got chilled. I carried a couple of snacks, but there were 2 well-stocked aid stations on the course and I took full advantage of them, stopping to rehydrate and grab orange slices and pretzels. I had a headlamp and a small flashlight—both stocked with brand-new batteries—so if one failed I had the other. (Turns out I preferred the flashlight; less tunnel vision.) I had a drop bag with extra supplies, and changing my shoes partway through felt like a second wind for my aching feet. Most importantly, I brought earbuds to listen to music or an audiobook in the wee hours of the morning.

The sun put on a show as it went down behind the mountains.

Was I scared?: Friends have asked if I felt scared or nervous, and my honest answer is no. The race began right before sunset, and the moon helped light up the night, though it slipped behind the clouds off and on. The trails wound through meadows and up and down a ridge; there were beautiful views the entire time, even in the dark, and the nightscape was just as interesting and breathtaking as daytime. I think the word that best describes hiking at night is peaceful. I loved hearing the coyotes yipping off in the distance, and I could not get enough of the crickets that performed a symphony all night long. Best of all, though I was alone, I could see the other runners spread out around me because of their headlamps. They looked like fireflies bouncing along the trails.

Did I get tired?: I never really paid attention to what time it was. My Garmin was tracking my mileage, and my goal was to keep moving forward, so whether it was 11pm or 2am, it didn’t matter. I thought the last 10 miles would be the hardest and most exhausting, but it turned out miles 11-16 were the worst. Getting to the halfway point and trying not to think about having to go another 16 miles was tough, but it wasn’t because it was the middle of the night. As I made my way down the hills at the end of my last loop, there was a pink glow in the east, the birds began to chirp, and I felt like I could run through a brick wall. I put on my favorite playlist and danced my way across the finish line. The exhaustion came later, and it has taken a few days to recover from the lack of sleep. Translation: I’m definitely not 21 anymore!

The first pink glow of sunrise behind Denver.

What I loved the most: I can’t emphasize how lucky I was to get perfect weather: a balmy July evening with a light breeze. It felt incredible. The benefits of a night event meant not sweating under a blazing sun, and not needing to apply (and reapply) sunscreen. I also loved trying something so different and completely new to me. I’m curious about challenging myself in new ways, and an overnight event provided the right amount of discomfort and reward.

The result: I came away with three things: A joyful sense of accomplishment that comes whenever you cross a finish line, no matter the distance; an affection for myself that I have become the kind of person that signs up for big adventures and embraces the outdoors; and exhaustion, but the exhaustion that feels earned and worth the sacrifice.