AUNT CINDY: Wow, it’s really icy today. Let’s see if I can get this gate closed.

NICOLE TEENY: I’m in a pasture in Stanwood, Washington, halfway between Seattle and the Canadian border. Frost tickles the ground. Now, I’m not what you’d call a horse girl, but my aunt Cindy is. She lives here with her three horses, Echo, Lucy, and Storm, and she does trail riding nearby.

AUNT CINDY: I’m just gonna walk out some buckets of grain for Storm and Lucy. They’re hollering at me because they’re, like, “Get over here and feed me.”

NICOLE TEENY: I’ve been running with my girlfriend Mariel for a while now, but I’ve got a lot to do if I wanna race against horses. Not only do I need to find a race to join, get my health in order, and train, but I also need to figure out how exactly to run next to a horse and rider.

And that is what I’m here to do. There’s the tactical stuff, like how to not get run over, but there’s also the mental stuff. I’ve kind of been afraid of actual horses since my epilepsy diagnosis. When the seizures rumble through my body I imagine it as the animal spirits inside of me stampeding. And that fear came to life when I was in Arizona and saw real, wild horses thunder past me. But being able to run next to a horse is a hurdle that I have to overcome.

AUNT CINDY: You wanna make sure that you’re relaxed. That helps the horse to be more relaxed.

NICOLE TEENY: Do I look relaxed?

AUNT CINDY: No. (LAUGH) You don’t look relaxed.

NICOLE TEENY: And Aunt Cindy walks me over to the horses.

AUNT CINDY: Well, this is Echo, the Gaited Morgan. And then Lucy is a registered Paint. And Storm is an Arab Paint.

NICOLE TEENY: Like Storm I am also Arab. So at least we’ve got that in common.

AUNT CINDY: When you first come up to a horse you want to have them smell you. Put your hand out.

NICOLE TEENY: Storm’s giant nostrils take a big old whiff of my hands.

AUNT CINDY: And then you can pet him on the forehead. (LAUGH)

NICOLE TEENY: Oh my gosh–

AUNT CINDY: Storm already likes you, uh-huh (AFFIRM).

NICOLE TEENY: It’s definitely the Arab connection. Aunt Cindy saddles up Lucy, a sturdy-looking brown and white mare. She rides her out to the road nearby. I’m still nervous, so I warm up by walking beside them. We gradually increase speed up to a soft jog and go back and forth up the road. Okay. I think I got this.

AUNT CINDY: We could walk, trot, canter. You wanna run with her?

NICOLE TEENY: I look at Lucy. Lucy looks back at me. Aunt Cindy waits for an answer. Do I wanna run with her? If I wanna race against a horse I just need to bite the bit and do it. I need to run. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

AUNT CINDY: Are you ready?

NICOLE TEENY: Okay, let’s do this. We take off. As we run, the horses in the nearby barn start to neigh desperately. Lucy suddenly changes course and heads towards them. She gallops, faster and faster. And I am directly in her path. My body kicks into fight or flight mode.

I scramble off the road, barely getting out of the way as she flies up the embankment. Lucy leans to the side as she veers towards the stables. Oh my gosh, Aunt Cindy. Aunt Cindy tumbles off. Just like the uncontrollable stampede inside of me, Lucy is out of control. Oh my gosh, are you okay?

AUNT CINDY: Yeah. Whoa, whoa.

NICOLE TEENY: Adrenaline surges through my body as I help her up. What have I just done? Aunt Cindy stands up and stretches her back. What happened?

AUNT CINDY: She just went sideways.

NICOLE TEENY: Do you think I’m making her nervous?

AUNT CINDY: No, it’s not you at all. It’s the whole fact she’s concerned about being near these guys.

NICOLE TEENY: She explains that horses are pack animals. Lucy could hear but not see her fellow horses, and that’s when she panicked.

AUNT CINDY: Horses are really fearful of predators. They don’t wanna be alone.

NICOLE TEENY: I realized that for so long I’ve been like Lucy, afraid to be alone, spooked by invisible threats.

AUNT CINDY: They also will run because they’re afraid.

NICOLE TEENY: Aunt Cindy walks over to Lucy, who is standing nearby.

AUNT CINDY: You need to comfort your horse, let ’em know, reassure them everything’s fine.

NICOLE TEENY: She gently pets Lucy. I want everything to be fine. I want to start training. But I see danger everywhere, because my epilepsy still isn’t controlled. I don’t wanna have a seizure so big that I never come out of it. But if I want to race a horse I need to start taking some bigger risks.

My doctor’s got another drug she thinks will work. Now I just need to work up the courage to try it. Maybe I just need to reassure myself that everything will be okay. I’m Nicole Teeny, and you’re listening to GIRL v. HORSE. This is episode three, Time on Legs.

The thing about epilepsy is there’s no one catch-all treatment. Everybody’s body works differently. And finding and changing treatments can be tough. The drug my doctor suggested, my supposed miracle drug, is called lamotrigine. While I am still getting auras, I’m also skeptical and exhausted.

Two years into my diagnosis and I’ve already tried so many different treatments. First, there was Keppra. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the epilepsy or the meds, but what I was sure of is that it felt like my brain was being scraped by 1,000 tiny little knives.

I couldn’t work. I applied for disability. And yeah, I stopped running. So then we tried Aptiom. My alarm just went off to take the medicine. CBD. Ugh, this stuff is pricey. Clonazeopam. I feel drugged. The ketogenic diet. There is such thing as too much butter.

Midazolam. Not the hospital again. And Vimpat. Here’s hoping this one’s the one. All together seven different treatments. And a lot of them weren’t just affecting the seizures, but other areas of my brain. And when I just needed to answer emails, dive into work, and get back into running, it just wasn’t possible.

I can’t stop wondering if it wasn’t the epilepsy causing all these problems, but the drugs. But it’s not like I can just go off the drugs and be normal. Or can I? This isn’t just wishful thinking. Dr. Jongeling had told me that for some people their seizures are triggered by a different health problem, not epilepsy.

So after they recover from whatever it is, they can ditch the meds. At this point I’ll try anything. There are real risks to going off meds. Those big, tonic-clonic seizures like I had with my mom, those could come back. But I wanna go back to the life I had before the epilepsy, when I wasn’t relying on anyone or any medication.

I wanna feel in control of my body. Confident, carefree. I want to run alone again. Under my doctor’s guidance we gradually reduce the medication. For the first time since my diagnosis I feel like me again. Can I operate heavy machinery? Juggle knives? Can I take a freakin’ shower alone without fear? Can I run alone again? Maybe I don’t even need to race these horses. Horses.

MARIEL SARKIS: The next thing I know is that you fell on the shower curtain, and then fell outside of the bathtub on the bathroom floor. You were clearly having a seizure. Your teeth clenched in your mouth, your jaw closed so tightly. And your body was all stiff, you know? So I was trying to make sure that you stay alive.

NICOLE TEENY: The water pounds on my body. The floor and I are drenched with water. Water. Water. Another tonic-clonic. I’m unconscious as I drift off into another vision. I’m back in the desert. A dusty haze lingers in the air. I pick myself up after another stampede. As the dust settles, I realize I’m no longer in the open expanse but lost in a canyon maze. The horses must have dragged me here. From around the corner, the mysterious horse emerges.

MZ HORSE: It’s time to make your peace.

NICOLE TEENY: Her shadow vanishes around another bend. The ground rumbles through my body again. I can’t get caught in another stampede. And my throat is dry like this sand. So I step into her footprints and follow in her wake. Her tracks lead to a small pond. She drinks from it. Is this what makes her strong?

MZ HORSE: Drink.

NICOLE TEENY: What if it’s poison?

MZ HORSE: From now on you need this to live.

NICOLE TEENY: I have no choice. I scoop the water in my hands. But as I drink, something miraculous happens. My throat clears. My bones fortify, and the haze lifts. Each sip changes me.

MZ HORSE: If you want to survive you have to change.

NICOLE TEENY: Mariel turns me on my side, cushions my head, times the seizure, and texts my parents and Dr. Jongeling. I emerge from the desert in snapshots. I find myself soaking wet, sprawled out on the bathroom floor. Is that mysterious horse trying to save me? But then I feel Mariel’s arms around me.

MARIEL SARKIS: You had short-term memory loss. I didn’t also wanna tell you because, like, I didn’t want you to be worried, you know?

NICOLE TEENY: Yeah. Oh baby, your eyes are (UNINTEL)–

MARIEL SARKIS: It was–

NICOLE TEENY: Poor baby.

(MARIEL SARKIS: UNINTEL)

NICOLE TEENY: You’re crying.

 MARIEL SARKIS: Crying, yeah. (LAUGH)

NICOLE TEENY: I’m sorry.

MARIEL SARKIS: Oh (UNINTEL) that’s okay.

NICOLE TEENY: I’m sorry to make you live it again.

MARIEL SARKIS: It’s okay. (LAUGH) I think it was just a bit traumatic, you know?

NICOLE TEENY: I needed to be back on medication for life. In the summer of 2021 I finally tried lamotrigine. Dr. Jongeling thought it had the best chance of helping me. But in the ramp up period it could seriously suck. Hi, yes, picking up.

MAN AT PHARMACY: First and last name?

NICOLE TEENY: Nicole Teeny.

MAN AT PHARMACY: Okay. We have one prescription.

NICOLE TEENY: At first I’m scared to try lamotrigine. I was warned the drug could be fatal if I took too much too soon. And while I’m increasing the medication, the low dose could allow my big seizures and auras to break through. But my dream of racing against a horse propels me forward. I hope this works. Starting lamotrigine was as much of a roller coaster as I thought it would be, an avalanche of semiconscious seizures. But after about six months on it my episodes are few and far between. And now when they do happen, they’re quick, rare, and manageable.

I can feel myself getting stronger. My old body and former self are almost within my grasp. But I’m still holding my breath. I’m too afraid to run alone. If I have to be on medication, then I wanna be fully back to normal. So we continue to up my dose. It’s a little bit of wind, but it actually isn’t so bad.

MARIEL SARKIS: No, especially when you’re running.

NICOLE TEENY: I’m on a run with Mariel in Central Park. My mouth starts to feel kinda dry and I’m getting a little bit woozy and unbalanced. It’s no big deal. I’ll get water. I just gotta move past the discomfort. Mariel asks if I’m okay, and I just say that I’m tired.

And I believe it. I refuse to walk. Just one mile left. You can do this. I almost trip on the curb. At least I think it’s the curb. My vision is becoming more and more stuttered. Get it together. You’re almost there. I made it. I hold Mariel’s hand as she leads me into a diner to sit down.

I’m still as a deer, but my head is spinning like a theme park ride, going faster and faster and faster. I have never had this aura before. We call a car, but the driver likes to tap the brakes like it’s a hand drum. God, make it stop. Finally, we reach our building.

I lean on Mariel for balance, my eyeballs just vibrating. The problem is we’re on the fourth floor. The stairwell looks like a M.C. Escher drawing. I can’t make it. I collapse, sobbing. Mariel takes my hand. She’s crying too, and she guides me up as I crawl for an hour up to our apartment door. Once home, Mariel lays next to me in the bed and holds my hand. I love you.

MARIEL SARKIS: I love you too.

NICOLE TEENY: I’m lucky to have you by my side. The next day I’m still dizzy. I speak to Dr. Jongeling in a video visit.

DR. AMY JONGELING: So it makes sense to me that that was too high of a dose of lamotrigine. Often that’s–

NICOLE TEENY: She tells me this is a classic sign of an overdose. I didn’t even know an overdose on this medication was possible. She’s gonna lower my intake down to what it was just before the overdose.

DR. AMY JONGELING: That’s your sweet spot. That’s your max– everybody has a max dose. That’s your max dose.

NICOLE TEENY: My sweet spot. This is the best it’s gonna get on this medication, which means I’ll still have occasional minor auras. Sometimes people can’t even tell when they’re happening, but I know they are. Just like many athletes, I want to know and control my body.

But instead it’s fragile, unpredictable, limited. I’ve wanted so desperately to be free from my flesh, this prison cell for my mind. But the only guarantee in life is death. I ponder the strangeness of being biomaterial, of being an animal. Even a baby grows elderly by the day. I hear that mysterious horse’s voice echo in my head.

MZ HORSE: If you want to survive you have to change.

NICOLE TEENY: It’s sinking in that for now, this is my new normal. And I do, for the most part, feel normal. The mental fog and side effects are gone. I’m back to work, directing, writing, hanging out with my friends, hiking, cooking, even swimming. I’m finally getting back to, well, not the old me, but to a new me, a me who’s growing. So now it’s time to get back in the saddle, because I need to race a horse. And first, I need to actually run alone.

MARIEL SARKIS: Where are you now?

NICOLE TEENY: I’m crossing the overpass, the little bridge. I’m beaming my location to Mariel and my mom, who are tracking me on not one, but three apps. If my phone senses any shaking it will notify them ASAP. Mariel is on the phone with me for peace of mind. I haven’t been on a run by myself in a really long time. So I’m a little scared, (UNINTEL) if something happens. We’re just gonna make it to two miles and turn around, okay? Thanks for being on the phone with me.

MARIEL SARKIS: I hope (UNINTEL PHRASE).

NICOLE TEENY: Okay, love you.

MARIEL SARKIS: Love you too.

NICOLE TEENY: I’m finally running alone. I feel me again. Two miles was a good start. But I need to step it up, ’cause I don’t wanna just run against horses, I want to defeat them. So now I need a coach and, you know, a race. I’m ready to go head to hoof. My body has stabilized, but I can’t race a horse if there’s no horse to race.

MARCEL: Hello.

NICOLE TEENY: Hey, is this Marcel?

MARCEL: This is Marcel.

NICOLE TEENY: Hey Marcel, are you the ride manager of the endurance ride? I learned about endurance horseback rides at the Man Against Horse Race in Arizona. They’re essentially horse ultra marathons, and they’re the perfect event to build my race against horses around.

Riders train their horses for them, so it’s just like a runner would train for a race. Most are 50 miles, so that checks off the distance requirement. And the riders have to give their horses breaks, so horse safety is a priority. Now I just need one to let me join. Totally normal.

CHARLENE: Hello?

NICOLE TEENY: Hey, is this Charlene?

CHARLENE: It is.

NICOLE TEENY: American River Classic. The Grizzly Mountain Ride. Top of the Rock.

FEMALE VOICE: Yes.

NICOLE TEENY: Almost every day I get out my giant spreadsheet and plunge into researching and contacting endurance ride managers. I have to hype myself up, because I really, really, really want someone to say yes. You got this. Be cool. Be natural. Hi, I have had this, like, kind of weird, silly dream. It takes a few tries to explain that yes, I want to run against, not on, the horses.

FEMALE VOICE: So you don’t have a horse?

NICOLE TEENY: I don’t have a horse. I’m a two-legged individual joining your four-legged individuals. So–

MALE VOICE: Oh for goodness sake. So your intent would be just to run and– and not ride? This is the most unusual request I’ve ever gotten.

FEMALE VOICE: I was gonna say that there’s no silly question, but wasn’t that a silly question?

NICOLE TEENY: But ultimately most people say.

FEMALE VOICE: No, no, no, no, no.

FEMALE VOICE: No, no, we can’t.

FEMALE VOICE: No.

VOICES: No.

NICOLE TEENY: So it’s a tough sell. Listen, it’s not lost on me that this sounds ridiculous. And the ride managers have a point.

FEMALE VOICE: It’s just strictly for the horses on the trail.

FEMALE VOICE: This is crazy.

FEMALE VOICE: You know, I don’t know if it’ll piss ’em off.

FEMALE VOICE: They’re a lot faster than you are. They’re gonna run your ass over.

NICOLE TEENY: Dang, my ass does not want to get run over. However, my ass might not be given the privilege to get run over. I’ve literally called hundreds of rides and I am running out. It’s been eight and a half freakin’ months of finding and calling rides. But there’s one ride that I haven’t called yet. So I just wanted to see if that’s something you would be open to.

MELISSA MARTINEZ: You mean not bring a horse, just run the trails?

NICOLE TEENY: Horseless, yeah.

MELISSA MARTINEZ: Wait, I’ve never had that question before. And to be honest I’m a first time ride manager, so this is my first time managing a ride. And I just don’t know.

NICOLE TEENY: Melissa Martinez is the ride manager of a ride called Ride Like the Wind. And it’s in Big Hill Lake, Kansas, which sounds like an oxymoron to me.

MELISSA MARTINEZ: I might have riders object. I just don’t know.

NICOLE TEENY: Melissa says she’ll talk to some other ride managers and get back to me. Which, considering how my conversations have gone thus far, I’m not gonna hold my breath. Then Melissa calls me back.

MELISSA MARTINEZ: I contacted my central region representative for the AERC. And he talked with the AERC headquarters and this is the information that I have for you.

NICOLE TEENY: Okay, I’m holding my breath.

MELISSA MARTINEZ: We would– be open to you, you know, running along the rails with the horses.

NICOLE TEENY: Ooh.

MELISSA MARTINEZ: But the– there are some– conditions.

NICOLE TEENY: Wait, did she just say yes? Can I run? Oh my god. Melissa tells me that I’ll have to introduce myself at this pre-ride meeting potluck and then sign my life away in case any horses run over me. But let me tell you, I have never agreed to anything so quickly before in my life.

I have a race. It’s a 50-miler in Big Hill Lake, Kansas, and I cannot believe it is finally happening. It’s July 2022, four and a half years since my diagnosis. The race is nine months away. If I wanna run 50 miles I gotta get my butt into gear.

To properly train I am gonna need to call in the big guns. I don’t wanna just run with the horses, no. I wanna be strong, in control, and most of all, I want to beat them. Those horses are going down. And if I wanna go further than I ever have, metaphorically and absolutely literally, I need a coach. Enter coach Sarah Scozzaro. Hi Sarah.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Good morning.

NICOLE TEENY: What can I physically do in the amount of time that I have so I have a chance at winning? (LAUGH) Not winning, but you know, like, hopefully maybe–

SARAH SCOZZARO: Beating the horses, yeah, yeah–

NICOLE TEENY: Yeah, beating some horses. She’s the Mr. Miyagi to my Karate Kid, the Mickey to my Rocky. She is my Gordon Bombay. Sarah’s a professional running coach to the pros, and she’s got a lot of ultras of her own under her belt. She’s worked with athletes spanning from Boston Marathon qualifiers to 200-mile finishers. She’s also worked with MMA fighters and NFL teams like the Cincinnati Bengals. And she’s even game to coach someone like me, who just wants to race a horse.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Okay, this race in Kansas, this is the premise of your thing is, like, can I beat a horse?

NICOLE TEENY: I give Sarah the lowdown on my running resume. I tell her how this weekend I bopped all the way up to 14 freakin’ miles. And I’m not gonna lie, I kind of felt good about myself.

SARAH SCOZZARO: That’s good. But there’s– that’s quite a bit below– a 50. I mean, there’s a big gap between those two.

NICOLE TEENY: Woof. I got a long way to go. Sarah engineers a training plan. It’s gonna take months of work and it ain’t gonna be easy. We’ll start short and sweet and work our way towards the longest run, 30 miles. After that I’ll taper down my training. Now, there’s a big difference between 30 and 50 miles.

I’m a little bit hesitant, but Sarah says that it’s enough weekly mileage to conquer the distance, and that way I’m not gonna peak too soon or get injured. So I trust her. But I am having a little bit of trouble wrapping my head around such a large number.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Remember your goal.

NICOLE TEENY: Sarah and I talk weekly. She monitors my progress through the data my running watch spits out, and the training isn’t just about hitting the pavement.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Ultra running is essentially an eating contest. So it’s who can fuel the best for the longest.

NICOLE TEENY: There’s a reason why runners call it fuel and not food. When your body runs out of energy mid-run, runners call it hitting the wall. To prevent it I need about 100 calories every half hour. And I need to train my digestion on this weird, alien-like substance that appropriately called GU. Ugh, pure sugar. But Sarah says that’s not the only thing that I have to do to prepare.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Inevitably something is going to come up during your race. Gear is gonna malfunction. There’s gonna be a terrain you weren’t, you know, “Oh wow, that’s a shocker.” You know, like, you can’t control some of them. But if you can control the controllables and then also have experiences that force you to adapt, then you’re just more resilient and durable come race day.

NICOLE TEENY: Control the controllables. Remember that. Prior to working with Sarah I aimed to maintain an average pace. But Sarah’s teaching me a new strategy, average effort. So sometimes I’m faster and sometimes I’m slower, but the key, like many things in life, is consistency. It’s all about building up volume. Or, as Sarah likes to call it.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Time on legs. You can just go out and put time on legs, nice and comfortable. At this point it’s time on legs and confidence. It’s time on legs. Time on legs.

NICOLE TEENY: It’s one of Sarah’s favorite phrases. I’m focused. I’m in the zone. And I’m gonna beat some freakin’ horses. Your watch is ready, my watch is ready. Give us a countdown.

MARIEL SARKIS: Three, two, one.

NICOLE TEENY: Fifteen miles.

SARAH SCOZZARO: The key word in there was race a horse.

NICOLE TEENY: Seventeen miles.

SARAH SCOZZARO: You gotta stick with it.

NICOLE TEENY: Twenty miles.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Pacing, fluid, hydration, and nutrition.

NICOLE TEENY: Twenty two miles.

SARAH SCOZZARO: You want to get as fit and fast as possible.

NICOLE TEENY: Twenty five miles.

SARAH SCOZZARO: You might mentally be thinking, “How the hell am I gonna do this?”

NICOLE TEENY: Over the next six months leading up to the race, all I do is run. No parties. No Ted Lasso binges. No Reddit rabbit holes. Rain or shine. I’m out there in the mud, slurping my GUs. And I’m adapting. Control the controllables. The summer sun is beating down on me.

I have got a river of sweat dripping down my face. But I let it. It makes me feel strong again. By September I’ve been training with Sarah for around two and a half months, and now my long runs are surpassing a marathon. We’re getting closer and closer to the longest training run, the 30-miler.

SARAH SCOZZARO: You know, we’re applying the stimulus of training, and your body is getting the stimulus and it’s like, “Oh, I need to adapt to meet the needs and demands of this without functional overload.”

NICOLE TEENY: I’m feeling a lot better than when I started. Like, whoa. Leaps and bounds. Like, whoa. Thank you Sarah. (LAUGH)

SARAH SCOZZARO: No, you’re welcome. (LAUGH)

NICOLE TEENY: Such a huge difference. Wow. Life changer right there.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Oh, I love that.

NICOLE TEENY: Months are passing.

MARIEL SARKIS: You take your medicine, you think?

NICOLE TEENY: Did I? Yeah. It’s missing from the pill box, so that means I took it. I’m, like, so tired, I can’t even, like. My body is getting run down. This is a lot. I can feel the spirits inside of me getting restless.

MZ HORSE: You cannot outrun me.

NICOLE TEENY: Fuck it, I’m doing this race.

SARAH SCOZZARO: How’s everything feeling today for you?

NICOLE TEENY: Feeling alright. Earlier this week I was, “I’m just being weak, I need to push on.”

SARAH SCOZZARO: Oh. (LAUGH)

NICOLE TEENY: Yeah, I think so. Like, and that might’ve even been why I had some of the– epilepsy flare. Training for an ultra is a full-time job. I’m knee-deep in work, not sleeping, on my period, and I’m getting the auras again.

SARAH SCOZZARO: For you to have the– the flare, that’s your body telling you, like, “We’re ramped up right now.” (LAUGH)

NICOLE TEENY: It caught up with me.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Oh.

NICOLE TEENY: And now I am, like, no. I– I needed to slow down. Lately when I run I keep looking at my watch to see my pace. I’m doing everything I can, but I’ve gotten so much slower than my pre-epilepsy self. How can I be the best when I’m having trouble even being my best?

There’s this burning question deep inside of me that I’ve been wanting to ask Sarah since we started working together. But I’ve been too afraid to ask. Do you think I will get better with time, or do you think that’s that, and I should just, like, accept my new reality? Or do you think there’s a possibility of getting back to those times?

SARAH SCOZZARO: The body can’t distinguish, like, physical stress versus mental stress, but you had a couple of really high fatigue weeks and, like, the epilepsy flare. So that’s gonna factor into it. But also if that body stress is not permanent, then no, I do not believe the effect is permanent.

NICOLE TEENY: But the epilepsy flare up isn’t the only reason I’m running slower.

SARAH SCOZZARO: You can’t run a 50 like you’d run a marathon. We’re not training for speed right now, we’re training for endurance. And so you’ve gotta be slower.

NICOLE TEENY: Mileage doesn’t add up. Much like interest, it compounds.

SARAH SCOZZARO: If we don’t ever apply any stress or stimulus, your body’s never gonna have to kind of rise to the occasion to adapt to it.

NICOLE TEENY: I’m training to be a different kind of strong, a new strong, one that I didn’t even realize was possible. It’s two and a half months until the race, and today is a major step in training. It’s time to run the big three-oh. It’s my longest distance before the race, and the most I’ve ever ran.

It’s a brisk Sunday afternoon. I get out of the Uber near the Greenbelt Nature Center. It looks like I’m in the middle of the wilderness, but I’m actually dead center of Staten Island. There’s about 35 miles of trail here. I need to prep on this kind of terrain for the race.

I breathe in the fresh air. I live for the rush of the challenge. But a flutter of butterflies wriggle their way around in my stomach. It’s critical that I finish the full 30 miles. I need to go into my race prepared. I’ve been running on my own for a while, but Mariel now is a two-hour commute away.

And I’m not even sure if there’s cell phone service within the park. I’ve gotta get out of here before it gets dark. A lot could go wrong out here, injury, exhaustion, wrong turns, sudden weather changes, or gear failure. And while my epilepsy’s stabilized, there’s still a little remnant of anxiety that lingers. What if I have an episode out here? I do my dynamic stretches. Take a deep breath, then three, two, one.

GPS: Start.

NICOLE TEENY: I’m off. The trail is more serene and meditative than my usual Brooklyn routes. On trails I’m tuning into rustling leaves, dodging rocks, leaping over roots, and scrambling up boulders. I’m relearning to trust in my body.

GPS: Twelve miles.

NICOLE TEENY: My energy is up, but my calves are kind of starting to feel it. There’s more elevation than I expected.

GPS: Seventeen miles.

NICOLE TEENY: My mind is just jelly from watching the ground.

GPS: Twenty one miles.

NICOLE TEENY: And I’m pooped, physically and mentally. I just stop to walk. It’s not just today’s run, or yesterday’s run, this week’s mileage is up to 75 miles. That exhaustion is cumulative. My watch beeps.

GPS: Twenty two miles.

NICOLE TEENY: I’m crushed. Twenty two miles. That’s it. If I can’t get to 30 miles how the heck am I gonna get to 50?

MARIEL SARKIS: Hey. Hi baby.

NICOLE TEENY: Hey. Thank god there’s reception out here. I tell Mariel I’m not sure that I can do all 30 miles.

MARIEL SARKIS: You’re going through a rough, you know, patch. You’ve been doing a marathon every week. It’s very hard. It’s not easy.

NICOLE TEENY: Mariel’s voice is a power up. I miss running with her. Heck, I just miss seeing her. All I’ve been doing is running. It’s discouraging because it’s hard to not feel like it will all be worthless if I don’t beat at least one horse. I feel like I have to prove myself, but I’m physically so tired.

MARIEL SARKIS: Yeah.

NICOLE TEENY: Even if come race day I finish 50 miles it’s not even gonna matter if I’m not fast enough, not strong enough.

MARIEL SARKIS: Remember when you wouldn’t go out and run even alone? You were like, “Am I ever going to run again?” You wanted to have the confidence to do that. Now look at you, you (UNINTEL) like, a long, long way.

GPS: Twenty four miles.

NICOLE TEENY: Twenty four miles. The orange glow of the evening is starting to shine through the trees. Dusk isn’t far off.

MARIEL SARKIS: Whether you beat a horse or not, you pushed yourself. Remember, you’re doing this for you, not just the end result.

NICOLE TEENY: Not beating a horse is not an option. But she’s right, I need to prove to myself that I can conquer this. Epilepsy cannot change who I am. I remember what Sarah says: “Consistent effort, not consistent pace.” Mariel’s pep talk is the boost I need. I thank her and I let her go. And after that I keep running. And running. And running. There’s 35 miles of trail in this park and at this point I’ve almost covered them all.

GPS: Twenty nine miles.

NICOLE TEENY: Almost there. And.

GPS: Thirty miles.

NICOLE TEENY: Yes. Thirty freakin’ miles. I’m back at the park’s entrance. Unlike when I started, my legs are now covered in mud, and there are these thick, white patches of salt caking my arm. But I did it. Thirty miles, my longest run ever. The sun is starting to set, so I order another Uber. When my car arrives, I open the door and hop in. I hope the driver’s okay with the smell. He looks at me, frowns, and then rolls down the window. The next time I meet Sarah I tell her about my progress.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Every individual goes through that at a point, where you’re like, “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. Am I getting any better?” But bad runs don’t last forever. It’s the consistency and the continuing to showing up. You will find a breakthrough.

NICOLE TEENY: So I keep showing up. And pretty soon I’ve logged another 30 miles. It’s a lot easier the second go around. Sarah’s training plan is working.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Are you getting excited?

NICOLE TEENY: I am. I am getting excited–

SARAH SCOZZARO: Good.

NICOLE TEENY: I think, like, the closer we get it’s more– and I’m feeling like, it’s okay. Like, I can do this–

SARAH SCOZZARO: Feeling better now?

NICOLE TEENY: Yeah, yeah–

SARAH SCOZZARO: Good.

NICOLE TEENY: –-and–

SARAH SCOZZARO: Good, good, good.

NICOLE TEENY: These horses don’t know what’s coming for them. Before I know it the big race is just a few days off. Tomorrow I fly out to Kansas, where it is finally determined, can I actually beat a horse? Nothing else matters up to this point. In the evening I lay my head down on my pillow for one final time, but I can’t sleep.

My heart is just pumping with palpitations. And that pulse brings my mind back to my body, my body that is flesh, that has changed, that has epilepsy, my body that is mortal. I feel so tiny in the midst of the stampeding herd, a speck in the scheme of the universe.

I’ve wanted so desperately to be free from my flesh. The only guarantee in life is death. I can feel Descartes’ wild animal spirits running through my nerves. I need to wrangle them. I need to rebuild the connection between my mind and my body.

SARAH SCOZZARO: Control the controllables.

AUNT CINDY: You need to comfort your horse, let ’em know, reassure them everything’s fine.

NICOLE TEENY: And this race is going to do that. It’s time. On the next and final episode, we head to Kansas to see who will win in GIRL v. HORSE. 

NICOLE TEENY: I feel like I’m gonna vomit. Oh, I can’t stop, I  … 

FEMALE VOICE: Yeah, don’t stop. You got this.

NICOLE TEENY: Oh boy. I just– (MAKES NOISE) 

GIRL v. HORSE was created, hosted, and executive produced by me, Nicole Teeny. Our story editor was Jazmine (JT) Green, with additional editing by Audrey Quinn. Mariah Dennis was our associate producer. Sound design and mixing by Michelle Macklin.Original music and theme song composed by Morgan Kibby. The mysterious horse was brought to life by Summer Banks. Our production assistant was Mariel Sarkis. For 30 for 30 Podcasts and ESPN, Adizah Eghan was our lead producer. Senior editorial producer was Preeti Varathan. Line producer was Catherine Sankey. Associate producer was Gus Navarro.