Massanutten Mountain Trails 100: Far, Quickly

How do I even write this?

It’s approaching 10am on Wednesday, 5 days after I started and 4 days after I finished the Massanutten Mountain Trails 100-mile ultramarathon (affectionately referred to henceforth as MMT100). I haven’t written up a race report or a blog post in many moons, but I think this is the best way for me to process the experience for myself, so I’ll give it a whirl.

Just to recap where my body and mind has been in the past 2 years, I failed at my first 100-mile attempt at Cascade Crest in 2017. I dropped out halfway after experiencing IT band pain early and treating it with painkillers early. Of course, dropping out was the right thing to do, there was no way I would be able to finish before the cutoffs anyway and on top of that, the course that year finished with a 3,000ft descent which would’ve murdered my IT band and likely put me on the injured list for a while.

Regardless of the reasons, I am my own biggest critic. I had tried something and failed at it and I couldn’t let that go. I was not being very reasonable or giving myself a break about it—there are many external reasons why I failed that have nothing to do with strength and mental toughness. Even the strongest runners don’t have the best days and don’t always hit their goals. I know I tend to beat myself up about these things, and this was no exception.

I set my sights on regrouping, having some fun long trail days, and then feeding my appetite with another 100-mile race in 2018. I had looked at IMTUF in Idaho as my next attempt, but I didn’t even get a chance to start training for it, as pulmonary embolisms sidelined most of my 2018. I was diagnosed and hospitalized in early May 2018, but I was able to start gently running again by June 2018. I was finding myself after spending a few months just enjoying being alive—trying new things like rock climbing, stand up paddling, and mountain biking.  I started training again with a new mind, new outlook, and some new lung tissue and returned to the race scene in September 2018, rocking out PRs in the 50k and the half marathon distances and finishing a 1^st female OA in a 55 miler. Then, just for fun, I ran the Philly Marathon and finished 1^st female at a small 5k less than a week after.  Things were starting to look brighter for me, I was not only feeling healthier but I was getting fitter. I was working harder and smarter, focusing on exercises that will prevent IT band issues. I always knew I would try the 100-mile distance again, but I just needed to decide when.

When and where would I run my 100-miler?

At this point, I was looking ahead to 2019. This would be a busy year. I intended to write and defend my Ph.D., get a job, possibly move across the country. Where would I find the time to train for a 100-mile race? In terms of life planning, mid-May to early June would best fit my schedule. I start a full-time summer job commitment in July that would require a lot of time and after that, I would be in crunch time for a Ph.D. defense in the Fall. My semester didn’t end until the first week of May so anything prior to that would not work either.

So having narrowed down a time frame, I needed to decide what kind of race I wanted. I am a mountain girl, but Cascade Crest had almost taken a slice of my leg with it. Maybe a mountain race that isn’t quite as much climbing and descending as Cascade, but would I want a flat race like Ghost Train? Hell no, no Tempur-Pedic ultra for me. What about a loop course like Infinitus? No thanks, I’d rather try point to point or all new trails. San Diego? Kind of far away and expensive…

It was kind of appropriate that my mind wandered to MMT100. Many years ago, I had the pleasure of accompanying Dave down to Virginia for him to complete his first 100 miler on that course. It was my first taste of what a real ultramarathon experience was and I had no idea how much that experience would inspire me for the rest of my life. From the sidelines, watching Dave fight for everything and continue through the night back into the day really changed my perspective about possibility and mental grit. I also spent that weekend bonding with Dave’s pacer, Laura Swift, and the formidable Tom O’Reilly (Dragon). I remember holding up signs to make Dave smile—inspired by Dumb & Dumber and Step Brothers (Boats and Hoes!). I remember listening to the Dandy Warhols with Tom, discovering that he and I both appreciated the same style of music. I remember us waking up in the car, parked at the finish line, both confused beyond belief about where we were and why we were there. I remember Bill texting me to tell Dave to remember when a tick bit Lance’s testicle and died, just something to try to make him smile. Seeing Dave finish that race was something I’ll never forget.

That race was attractive to me. I had some history with it. I knew it would be a challenge. The race also has a legacy and a legend attached to it. This year would be the 25^th running of MMT100, and most of the runners toeing the start line have run it before. There were many runners who have 5+ finishes of MMT100, including a couple 10+ finishers, and one runner going for sweet number 20. This is a race that keeps bringing people back. It’s not a widely popular race and the race directors and race team don’t spend time and money widely advertising… and they don’t have to. The race is put on by the Virginia Happy Trails Running Club, one of the older trail running clubs in the country.

To enter, there is a lottery. I ended up being one of maybe 40 people who didn’t win the lottery and ended up on the waitlist. My disappointment didn’t last long. Zsuzanna Carlson (who is one of those multiple finishers, and someone I admire deeply) assured me that I would get in off the waitlist. She was correct and sometime in March, I got that email from ultrasignup asking me to confirm my entry. I was in. This email came a few weeks after I had a very successful 100k day at the inaugural TARCtic Frozen Yeti 30 hour race. Things were falling in line.

Training

I’m not going to go in depth with my training, but it took place mostly on roads. I ran a track/speed workout at least once a week. I ran a 100-mile week. I ran multiple 2-a-days and a couple 3 or 4 –a-days. I ran trails, too. I ran the Rim to Almost Rim to Rim (we were turned around 2 miles from the North Rim so it’s not quite a full r2r2r). I ran the Providence Marathon 2 weeks before MMT100, and I ran that fucker fast.

I think there are 2 aspects to my training that helped the most with MMT100. The first is running more than 1 run per day. I have been run commuting for years. It is 3.5 miles door to door of a commute. I extended these commutes to 5 or 6 miles each way. Going for a run and then going for another run is really all an ultramarathon is anyway. You run from one point to another, and then you may or may not take a small break. Then you have to keep running. This type of training helped train my body to go back out there and finish the job.

The other training that I did was not running, but strength training. I used kettlebells and resistance bands to work on strengthening my glutes, hips, and core. I was targeting areas that had given me problems in the past. I focused on exercises like planks/plank variations, bridges, fire hydrants, single leg deadlifts, and banded side steps. I did these exercises or extended stretches every day for 5 – 20 minutes. I genuinely think this type of PT and cross training is why I didn’t get hurt or injured during the race and how I am only a few days after and feeling nearly as good as new.

Okay, now to the stuff you came to read.

 

Jamison, Mel, myself, and Victor

MMT 100- the night before.

If you want to see the details of the race, please check out the website. I’ll be discussing my race in terms of aid station to aid station (or crew station to crew station) The race boasts 100.6 miles (not the 103.7 miles as it was in years past) and 18,500 ft elevation gain/ 18,500 ft descent. It started at 4:00am on Saturday, May 18 and from then, all runners had 35 hours to finish (3:00pm Sunday, May 19).

Thursday night, my crew and I left Boston for the long drive south. My crew consisted of full-time crewman and my coach Jamison, my boyfriend Victor, and my friend and training partner Mel. I was pretty confident that this group would not only be very effective at keeping me motivated and healthy but that they would all enjoy the experience and have a good weekend themselves.

On Friday, we picked up my bib and stayed for the pre-race meeting before heading off to Luray, VA for dinner and the night. Jamison and Victor went for a little run while Mel and I wandered about and stumbled into Hawksbill Brewery, where we stayed for a few drinks and V and Jamo met up with us. The brewer, David, chatted with us for a while, he was an endurance athlete himself. I highly recommend stopping by here if you find yourself in Luray, the beers were delicious and the atmosphere is lovely. After we left, we stopped at a pizza place next to the hotel where I housed an entire pie. Perfect pre-race ritual.

That night I didn’t sleep at all, nor did I expect to. The alarm was set for 3am for a 4am start and I knew that I would have nerves. I put in earplugs, but then all I could hear was my own heart beating like a goddamn congo drum, so that wasn’t pleasant and relaxing! Soon enough the alarm went off, and it was time to go.

The map and elevation profile for 2019 MMT 100 (100.6 miles)

Start to Edinburg Gap (mile 12.1)

It was 60 degrees with high humidity at the start of the race. The forecast called for possible rain during the afternoon/evening but for now, it would remain dry skies and wet breath. According to Mel, her phone weather app said “100% humidity” which sounds bananas to me, but I believe it I guess.

The race starts with uphill road miles until you turn onto the trail for the first big climb. I was trying to move fast but gently, just warming up. The trail climb was steady and then we popped out onto this ridge. It was starting to get light out, and sunrise on that ridge was stunning. The intense yellows and oranges in the sky over a large dark mountain silhouette painted the perfect picture for a rugged trail race.

The ridge section was a little annoying, as it was packed with people in a single file line and it’s very hard to pass people safely. I just tried to settle in and didn’t worry about my speed. Eventually, we started the descent into Edinburg Gap, the first crew station. I wasn’t feeling great at this point. My body wasn’t adjusted to this type of heat or humidity (and how could it? It was 45 and snowing in parts of Massachusetts last week!) and I had drunk all my water. I was definitely dehydrating and didn’t eat enough, both things that I really shouldn’t be facing so early in the race already.

When I got into Edinburg Gap, I looked awful. I felt as awful as I looked. I asked Mel if I could borrow her bladder and she got it prepped for me. I took some food and salt and then V told me that it was a 2-mile climb out of this spot. I was ready, I knew that I needed water and then things would improve.

Edinburg Gap to Elizabeth Furnace (mile 33.3)

The best lesson that experience with ultra distances has taught me is that lows never last, things “don’t always get worse”. I was only starting this race and the day, I had a long way to go and a lot of time to get there so settle in, drink water, and don’t panic.

Sure enough, leaving Edinburg Gap, I climbed for 2 miles trying to take in water while moving forward. Towards the top of the climb, a woman looking fresh and happy passed me and we shared a hello. She asked how I’m feeling and I told her I was searching for a tree. She laughed and took off while I found my tree. Ever hear that expression, “I have to use the tree.” Yeah.

After a nice big tree usage, I felt amazing. Much like my dog during a run, I was miserable and just needed to take a shit in order to feel better. We aren’t so different, Sky and I.

So after that, I started the ridge portion, rather flat with some down and I started smiling. I was stoked; I persevered through a low and now was feeling great. I caught up to the woman who had passed me and she asked if I found a tree! Her name is Cheryl and she is a multiple time finisher (and a top finisher some years) of this race and she gave me some invaluable advice. She recommended that I take all the downhills for the first 55-60 miles nice and easy and to “pretend that you’re running with your slower friend”.

I immediately said aloud, “Ruby!”

Cheryl said something like “Yeah…whoever.”

I took that advice to heart and, Cheryl if you’re out there, THANK YOU it saved my race. I started slowing down and smiling more. I was holding pretend conversations with Ruby in my head, telling her about the funny crap Mel said at the brewery, or about the cute dogs at the aid stations, about the size of the poop I just took! Ruby pretend quipped back at me and the miles started to pass and my heart was full and I gave into the task at hand, to move through it all for the next 30 hours and just surrender to it without a fight. Embrace the process.

Soon enough I was arriving at Elizabeth Furnace and I felt good. My crew looked relieved that I was back to life and feeling happy.

Elizabeth Furnace to Shawl Gap (mile 38)

Mel talked me into taking my poles for this section. It started to get hot and this section is just a quick climb and descent. My high from earlier was wearing off, which was good. Highs, like lows, don’t last forever and I couldn’t stay that excited for the entire race. It was time to go to work.

At this point, I am still taking the descents easy, but I am killing it on the climbs. I was passing multiple people on climbs and felt like I was holding back. Nonetheless, all the people I managed to pass on the climbs would fly by me on the descents. This made me a little upset, but I kept Cheryl’s advice in my head and thought about how those speedsters might drop eventually when their quads were exploding.

Shawl Gap to Habron Gap (mile 54)

This is a big section and during the hottest part of Saturday. Leaving Shawl Gap is a road section until AS Veach Gap. As it was approaching mid-afternoon and the sun was scorching, I was not enjoying sweating buckets just for existing, let alone running. I had been very good at taking salt, taking 2 salt tabs every hour or two and even was giving salt to runners I saw sitting on the trail looking worse for wear. I was doing so well with nutrition and was well ahead of cut-offs. At this point, I made another decision that also probably saved my race. I refused to run another step until the sun went down. Maybe some more experienced 100 milers will tell me this is dumb, especially with such a runnable 3-mile road section, but it was hot A F and I had all night to make moves.

Lots of people passed me at this point, mostly dudes. Actually all dudes. Where are all the ladies at?! I remember hopping along next to most of these guys already. A few had asked me if I were OK, surprised that I was walking. I said that I was fine, just not insane for running in this heat. I later learned that all but 1 of those runners dropped from the race. Not that I wanted anyone to drop, but I felt really validated in my decision making there.

The climb out of Veach was steep, but I felt great on it and nailed the climb. Then there is a really technical ridge at the top. This trail was ridiculous! You were climbing over boulders and rocks hanging onto the ledge on the side, ducking under fallen trees and climbing over others. I remember laughing at this part, of course, the race takes this trail! It was annoying, but once I recognized how funny the trail was, it felt doable. Just keep plugging away.

Eventually, we dropped to AS Indian Grave and I ate a whole hot dog, grilled cheese, and 2 popsicles. Others at that AS were unable to eat or drink water. I felt like I was in pretty good shape at that point, still able to eat solid, real foods and lucid. I took that as my cue to leave, hit the next 4 miles on the road to Habron Gap and see my crew and pick up a pacer.

Habron Gap to Camp Roosevelt (mile 63.9)

At Habron Gap, my crew (and the crew for some other runner) helped me. I spent a lot of time here getting liquids and Mel and another woman did some blister repair on my feet. Mel was ready to pace me, but I asked if Victor could take me. Another runner I met on course told me that having a crew and pacers meant there was no way I wouldn’t finish— my crew wouldn’t let me. He also told me that getting to Camp Roosevelt was all it took, and pacers will carry me home from there.

So Victor laced up and I got my newly treated feet back into shoes and grabbed a headlamp and we started. The climb out of Habron Gap is the largest of the course. I crushed it like I had been crushing all the climbs the entire day.

It was later this section that I hit another low. I wasn’t able to descend well and my feet were aching. Victor also made an honest mistake and it brought my low even lower. He told me there were 3 miles to the next AS which there was at least 5 more to go. As I heard my watch tick off miles, I wanted that AS more and more and it never came. It was a mistake but it broke me at the moment. I started feeling slow, I felt like I wasn’t moving and if I kept at that rate, there was no way I was going to finish the race. Eventually, after a very long section of 9.8 miles that felt like 20… we got to Camp Roosevelt.

Camp Roosevelt to Gap Creek 1 (mile 69.8)

At Camp Roosevelt, I sat down and immediately got cold. It was well into the night now. Mel was ready to take off with me. An Aid Station volunteer was super helpful. He told us that the next section was wet, inevitably wet. It was the muddiest part of the course and it would be good to wear new shoes and change at Gap Creek 1. With this knowledge, Mel suggested we both wear our shit pair of Topo MT2s that we both kind of dislike. I hate running trails in these shoes, but they are comfortable as all hell to wear. We both put them on and took off on a muddy climb and descent into Gap Creek 1.

The AS volunteer was right, it was so muddy. I was worried about losing my shoe in the mud sucking sections. I aced the climb and felt miserable on the descent, really par for the course for the entire race. Eventually, we arrived at Gap Creek!

Gap Creek 1 to Visitor Center (mile 78.1)

I was sitting by the fire at Gap Creek, trying to get myself motivated. Luckily, I didn’t have to try too hard as a volunteer came over and told me that I had been sitting for 15 minutes and that the fire would be there when I was back at this AS at mile 97.

I totally misinterpreted that to mean that I had 15 minutes until the cutoff and to get my ass in gear. I hopped up and said “Don’t worry, I’m leaving right now.” and then corralled my crew to help me move. They reassured me I had more time than that and another volunteer said I could take an hour nap and be well fine still… but my heart rate was up nonetheless!

A change of shoes and restock of water/food and Mel and I leave for a long chunk of mileage. During this section, we ran briefly with Kevin. Kevin was very friendly and upbeat when we met him up on Kern’s Mountain. His voice and his shirt were jogging my memory…

A few years ago I met an older gentleman at a race in southern MA who was wearing an orange MMT shirt and running in Luna Sandals. I must’ve chatted with him for no more than 3 minutes, just asking him about MMT since that isn’t a shirt or a race I hear a lot about up in the Boston area. He had run it a couple times at that point and said how great it was, how the race is well put on, and so on. I told him I had been down there years ago and congratulated him on running a hard race.  That was the extent of our conversation.

Now, here we are on Kern’s mountain, 70 miles into MMT and I see him wearing the same shirt. I asked him if he was from Massachusetts by any chance and when he said he was, I told him how I recognized him and he was very excited about that. It was great to talk with him about racing and TARC events, it helped pass some time. I asked him for advice, as I had been doing to all friendly multiple MMT finishers I met so far and he cheerfully gave me some about missing turns and moving forward. Later in the race, when the sun comes up and we see Kevin again, Mel recognizes him, too from Traprock. Small world, right?

We pass Kevin and I start to get emotional. I cried for a long time, thinking about friends and about life. It felt good to cry, I needed it and that I was fighting it for too long. I don’t know how long I actually cried for, but it felt like forever and it felt GOOD.

Eventually, I get it together and Mel and I cross the highway and end up at the Visitor’s Center. This is where I quickly cried again upon seeing Zsuzanna at the Aid Station, doing that look where she stares at you until you see her and then she smiles. I burst out into tears, just exhausted and surprised and so happy.

Visitor’s Center to Picnic Area (mile 87.9)

Prior to arrival at the Visitor’s Center, I was sad. I was slowing down and felt unsure if I would make it. Mel told me I still had tricks up my sleeve. I hadn’t taken ANY caffeine yet and so we could start that at this aid station. I also hadn’t taken any Advil or Vitamin I at this point, so I could take that too and ride both of those tricks into the finish.

At Visitor’s, I drank some coke and Mel told Jamison to get me some Advil. Of course, there’s no way for anyone to know this, but when I think “Advil”, I just think general painkiller. It does not specifically have to be Advil. In fact, I brought Aleve to the race because that always seems to do me better during races.

But, Mel said to get 3 “Advil” and the only bottle of pills in my box that was Advil brand was “Advil PM”. So Jamison grabbed 3 pills and put them in my hand. I stared at them. I recognized that they were not liquid gels or little red Ibuprofens, but I put them in my mouth and swallowed anyway.

Yeah, my crew just gave me 3 Advil PMs at mile 78 of my 100 miler.

Oh well, off I went! 2 more climbs, sunrise is soon, and I took caffeine and Advil so I could crush the last 22 miles of this thing.

The climb out of Visitor’s was another one that I crushed. The sun was starting to light up the sky above and beyond the foreboding ridge of the Massanutten Mountain. There was still a full moon creeping to the west. This was, by far, the best view of the race for me. My Advil was kicking in, I ran from the top of the climb to the AS at Bird Knob. The sun was up; Mel and I didn’t stay too long. We headed out.

I was heavily hallucinating at this point. All trees, rocks, and leaves had patterns in them, reminding me of some of the more fun drugs I used to take in college. I remember telling Mel some of the weird shapes that were emerging. I pointed to a bunch of rocks and told her “this one looks like the Liberty Bell. That rock over there is the front end of the Titanic.” She pointed to a rock and asked what I saw, to which I replied without missing a beat “A Scotch tape dispenser.” Mel, being the invaluable asset that she was, made me take 2 more salt tabs immediately.

We descended a lot on the way to Picnic Area, I felt really suddenly sleepy. I stopped to sit on a rock at one point to eat something. Every time I closed my eyes, even to blink, I was falling asleep. It just came on so strongly and so swiftly that I thought back to those pills. I asked Mel if they gave me Advil PM, to which she said “No, definitely not.” and she reminded me that I had been moving for 28 hours or whatever and that I was tired. That made sense, but I had a feeling that I was drugged.

We ran a lot of this section after I got up off the rock. If I kept my eyes open, I wouldn’t fall asleep. I chewed chocolate covered espresso beans and just kept running. I hit another small low and the climb up to Picnic Area was longer and dragged on more than I thought it would, but eventually we made it and I knew I had less than a half marathon to go.

Photo at Bird Knob AS, an hr after taking 3 Advil PMs. Can you tell?

Picnic Area to Gap Creek 2 (mile 96.8)

After a small pity party that I threw for myself at Picnic area, and a minor freakout about cut offs (which I was in no danger of missing, but was convinced that I was), Mel dragged my ass off. It took a little while to get going, but eventually we gathered some momentum and started up the final climb of the race. Mel was reminding me to eat and drink, and I listened to her as much as I could. I was getting frustrated with this final climb. One section of it was through a creek, and I was tired of trying to avoid the water. I had one final pity party, where Mel finally stopped trying to convince me that I wasn’t going to get cut off and gave into my mental struggle and told me we better hurry up then. She made me run sections I didn’t want to run, she was honest with me while also honoring me when I needed to walk a section. It was a perfect balance of getting the job done. There is a long road into Gap Creek 2 and I finally started to believe that I would finish the race.

Not until this point did I ever really know if it were going to happen. I told Mel and my crew this after the race, but I never believe in myself. Whether I am toeing the start of a 5k or a 50k, I never think I can finish it. I am just used to filling my mind with so much self-doubt. It is a flood of relief when the point in the race comes when I know I am doing it or will finish the job. Again, I know I am my own biggest critic. I think I could write an entire post about believing in yourself or rather a lack of doing so.

Arriving at Gap Creek 2, I told Mel I didn’t want to sit or stop. I would toss a fistful of food into my mouth and then run the 3.5 miles into the finish line.

Gap Creek 2 to Finish (mile 100.6)

After one giant handful of Pringles, I left Gap Creek 2 and hit the road. This final section was ~ 3 miles of rolling road and descent until a final small trail section to the finish. After 32 hours of being on my feet in the Massanutten mountain, I was ready to finish this thing. Together, Mel and I ran the entirety of this section, passing lots of other runners (including our friend Kevin) and I crossed that finish line with a near sprint.

No pain, no champagne.

I was so relieved, so tired, and so happy. I still am relieved, tired, and happy. I got my belt buckle, had champagne, and tried to eat some food. My crew came over and we celebrated before heading off to recover.

MMT 100 is a brutal, but forgiving course. The climbs and rocks are challenging, but the cutoff is generous. The mountain ridge is mysterious and venerable, the silhouette during dawn and dusk looks like a giant monster, hiding in the shadow. The climbs are tough, some steep, some technical, but they always end with a reward at the top. The heat and sun beat a lot of runners up, but I managed to escape without as much as a sunburn. During the last 50k of this race, I was miserable at points, wondering why I don’t stick to smaller, shorter distances (like only 50 miles or 50k), but there is something to be said for trying something that you have the huge potential to fail in. A hot, mountain 100 miler is certainly that type of challenge and I’m proud to have finished it.

There’s a great, fake saying that I think Al Gore guest starring on 30Rock says best that really sums up how I feel about my MMT 100 experience:

You know, there’s an old African proverb that I made up: ‘If you want to go quickly, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.’ We need to go far, quickly.”

Shh! A whale is in trouble.

Far, quickly.

Finally, something to help keep my pants up and my belt tight.

Put it behind me, my DNF at the Cascade Crest 100

I’m not really sure what to write about this experience. I’ve tried a few times now to write up a proper blog post and fell short, much like I fell short in my race.

I’ll just say a few things.

1. Forest fires are awful. These fires impacted my course for my race with last minute changes that dramatically changes the race. Huge, huge, huge credit to the race director, Rich White, for handling this so gracefully and fluently. It speaks volumes to the organization of the race team that they were able to make this change the day before the race while keeping everyone safe and updated. Thank you for all your hard work. The fires are now, nearly 2 weeks later, raging all over the state of Washington as well as some sensitive areas in Oregon in the Columbia River Gorge. It’s believed these intense and terrible fires are manmade. It breaks my heart to see footage and hear about ash coverage in Seattle from these fires. I love the region and there are few trails as beautiful as those in the world. Please consider helping out in efforts to contain and fight the fire and prevent losing these important sections of protected wilderness.

http://www.methowconservancy.org/fire.html?fref=gc&dti=218926370297

https://gorgefriends.org/?fref=gc&dti=218926370297

https://www.gofundme.com/pnwowgivesbackor

http://koin.com/2017/09/04/eagle-creek-fire-expected-to-grow/

2. I fucked up my IT band early and I did the wrong thing to fix it. It started hurting at mile 10, the first downhill. Instead of stopping and stretching/massaging it immediately, I changed my gait for a while. This only led to hip pain. I also refused to admit this to my crew man at mile 22, so I couldn’t get real advice. I thought if I didn’t admit it, it wouldn’t be real. That is a fallacy and I should’ve known better. At mile 25, it hurt too badly to run the downs that I was being passed and I decided to take 2 Aleve. This led to me running pain free, but exacerbating my injury. When the pain meds wore off at mile 42, I had 10 awful downhill miles into the aid station where I would eventually drop. My inexperience misguided me but I think I learned a lesson.
3. Thursday before the race, I woke up with ankle pain that was unbearable. I mean, I couldn’t put weight on my ankle, hobbled down the stairs. I did nothing to this ankle. It hurt like I couldn’t walk. I went to bed Thursday evening with a suspicion it was psychosomatic. I woke up Friday morning completely healed. This race literally made me insane.
4. Something that I found funny was that at the beginning of the race, I told Jeremy that I would try to see him at the first crew spot (mile 22) in ~6 hrs. I got to him in EXACTLY 6 hrs. I can’t make it to work or class on time but when I tell a dude I’ll meet him 22 miles away in 6hrs, I nail it!
5. I was able to make some friends! I’m grateful for the opportunity to speak with other New England based (or past NH dwelling) runners who knew many of the same races and TARC family that I am getting to know. They may have even talked me into running a 50 miler in November with some of them. If there is one thing that the ultra community never fails to deliver, it’s just that. Community. (Hi Jen and Garry!)
6. I knew 1 other racer competing in this race. His name is Lindsay Hamoudi and he ended up winning the race in a spectacular fashion. He spent most of the race roughly ~30 to 60 min behind the leader. In fact, at mile 98 (out of 102), he was still in 2^nd place. He put on a clinic in pacing and nutrition and slowly narrowed the gap for the whole second half of the race. During the final 4 miles, he overtook the lead and ended up winning by 3 minutes. It’s the people like this who inspire me and make me want to be a better ultrarunner. I’m glad I got to see Lindsay in the beginning on the night, while I was struggling with IT pain at mile 43 and he was finding his cruise control, silly and sweet at mile 58. Congrats on an amazing finish, dude!

Some people keep their race medals and bibs of their triumphs. I almost never do this. I donate my medals and toss my bibs. I have only kept a few unique awards—my first 100k finish at Bigfoot, my 1^st place female award from Frigus, etc. I think I’ll keep my bib from this race. I want to remind myself that I should strive for more and maybe one day I’ll try to get this monkey off my back and finish a mountain 100 miler.

How am I feeling? Disappointed. My body failed me this time, but my mind and my motivation did not. I didn’t give up until I had to. I wanted to continue and faced my lows with courage and tempered my highs with experience. I’m not done dancing with the 100-mile devil, but I do need to relax and work on some physical therapy and strength training for my body. I’m grateful for my friends and family who supported me. Hearing from people how what I was able to accomplish is still incredible really sucks (sorry!) but I know it comes from a place of support and positivity. I wouldn’t have attempted a 100 miler if I didn’t think I could finish it. I didn’t cross the start line just to go halfway. I don’t want to appear ungrateful, but it is hard to really understand why hearing statements like “that’s so far! I could never run that” or “you should still be proud for even trying” only make me feel angry and upset at myself. I won’t try to explain it, but speaking to my ultra running friends who have had to DNF a long goal race has really helped. A DNF is not incurable. It is just part of the story.

I’ll be back, but when I’m ready.

First climb up Goat Peak

Hazy from fog and smoke. I was left breathless from this course in multiple ways.

Happy. I was very happy for a long part of this race. Even through pain, I was always exactly where I wanted to be. Coming into this AS (Mile 22) I tripped and fell, right in front of everyone. When it happened, 6 handsome trail runner men ran over to help me up. If I knew that would happen, I’d have fallen at every aid station!

At check in. Maybe I’ll be back one day to run through this as a finish line.

I am forever grateful to one of my best friends, Jeremy. He was an outstanding and selfless crew for me and seeing a friendly face during the hard times, in the night or in tough pain made a whole world of difference for me, moreso that I can describe. I hope one day I can repay the favor and crew him on a long ultra adventure!

How my summer training in New England prepared me to finish 2016’s Bigfoot 100k/110k on the west coast

It’s been almost a week after I crossed the finish line of the Bigfoot 100k last Sunday at 8:51am PST. I can’t say that life has gone back to normal, business as usual, back on the grind anymore. I felt that way after my first marathon, ultra, and 50m. Something about the experience out around Mt. St. Helens is different, was different, was unique.

I talk all the time about how anyone can finish an ultra and I really believe that. I like to think I’ve proven that as well, convincing many of my friends to try their hands at a 50k or 50 mile race. Of course, not all ultras are created equal. There are tame loop courses on mild trails, technical trails, groomed trails. There are safe courses where you can’t get lost. There are races that have some rolling hills or some short steep sections, but are overall flat. There are races that are well supported with plenty of aid throughout the race. There are races where any bad weather can only slow you down so much, or put you in minimal danger.

Then there are races like Bigfoot, races that are not for the faint of heart. This race, advertised as a 100k, but truly closer to 110k (68.8 official miles), is a point-to-point trail race on 99% singletrack around Mt. St. Helens. The race involves nearly 15,000ft of elevation gain and nearly 16,000ft of descent. There are only 5 aid stations, on average 13 miles apart. The longest leg of the 100k is 17 miles straight. Most of the race is exposed to the element on mountains trails. There is little cover to hide.

While the Bigfoot 200 is known for being one of the only non-repetitive 200-mile ultras in the nation, the race director, Candice Burt, started having 2 “short” versions last year in 2015– a 120 miler and a 100k. Last year, the 100k race had only 13 finishers and most DNF’d due to intense storms and downright dangerous conditions. As a result, this year there was a mandatory gear list to make sure you were safe. This list included:

1. Map with entire course on it.
2. Headlamp with extra batteries.
3. Fully waterproof rain jacket.
4. Wool or microfiber long sleeve shirt.
5. Lightweight synthetic down jacket.
6. Water purification method.
7. Extra calories.
8. Some form of pants.
9. Hat and gloves
10. All clothing items that are not waterproof must be in ziplock bags.

What are the chances that the weather could be bad 2 years in a row? Right?

Why sign up

In December of 2015, my trailmate and best friend Ryan sent me a link to Bigfoot. I read the description, I looked at the beautiful sunny photos on ultrasignup.com of Spirit Lake and Mt. St. Helens, and within 5 minutes I decided I was going to sign up when registration opened. The race wasn’t for nearly another year; I had all summer to prepare myself. I wanted to challenge myself and find a reason to explore the PNW. This race was perfect.

I signed up Jan. 1 when it opened and whimsically put the link on my facebook page, almost daring anyone to sign up with me. When you are friends with as many weirdos as I am, there’s sure to be one other daredevil in the mix who is susceptible to whim. That lucky friend this time around was Heather! She told me she signed up, too and since she was coming back from a long running hiatus following her Rocky Raccoon 100 mile finish, she kept this sign up on the DL. Awesome! I was immediately stoked that I would know at least 1 other person going to share the adventure.

While I’ve done a number of other races in 2016—this was always my goal race. Everything I did was in prep to conquer this race. With that in mind, let me talk about how my summer adequately prepared me for MOST of what I encountered at the Bigfoot 100k.

1. Pinelands 50m—prepared me with distance. As only my second 50 mile distance, the Memorial Day Pinelands 50 was a good test for distance for me. While the race itself was boring, I would need to be able to move the distance. This race was the start to a number of summer adventures that helped me.

2. Rainy/cold Vermont weekend. We may have only done 22 miles over 2 days, but it was windy and rainy and cold. That type of weather was a shadow of what Bigfoot was, but it’s always good to get experience around 4000ft. up in those elements.

3. Big weekends in the White Mountains. There are 2 specifically that I am thinking of. These mountains are hard, unforgiving, and don’t know the definition of the word “switchback”. Weekend 1 was 3 days: Mt. Washington Road Race, Zealand Mountain, and then Kinsmans & Cannon. Weekend 2 was also 3 days: Tripyramids, Hancocks, and Presidential Traverse. Time above treeline in the whites, especially during the Presi were helpful because the ‘boulder field’ on Mt. St. Helens was nothing more than what my beloved rockpile Mt. Washington trails are like! Both weekends were filled with lots of elevation gain and descent practice, lots of time on my feet, and lots of time with Ryan! (Okay time with Ryan wasn’t exactly prep, but it made prep more fun.)

4. Pacing Lauren during the Vermont 100. Oh man, we thought that night was bad? It was great prep for what I encountered in Bigfoot. I joined Lauren for 30 miles, from 11:00pm-8:30am through 3 MASSIVE thunderstorms. That was great experience running overnight and through the rain. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was exactly the experience I would need at Bigfoot.
5. The Pemi Loop(s). The Pemi Loop is considered one of the ultimate tests in the White Mountains. I already wrote about the first time I finished it. What I didn’t write about was that I did it AGAIN about a month later with Dani (and Cayenne). The second time, we added another mile and another mountain- West Bond (#43). This gave me great time on my feet, distance, and elevation change training. Plus, those trails are far more rugged and steep than anything I’d encounter in Bigfoot.

6. My August of cross training. I didn’t write about this but after my first Pemi loop (and with the culmination of my July activities), I ended up with 2 small tears in both my calf muscles in my left leg. I’ll get to how I fixed that later, but in the meantime, I took 4 full weeks off from running and I didn’t let that ruin my training. I worked on my balance, training the small muscles in my feet. I swam a bit, nothing less than a mile at a time. Most importantly, I put in a lot of hours on my Trek road bike both in Boston and during some time in NJ. I biked 30-40 mile rides regularly and was able to find some hills. I probably would not have cross trained as effectively if I could run/hike during this time so perhaps it was a blessing.

So how did all of these things help me? Efficiently and effectively. Almost all the elements were present in my training that I would need during my race (except for some pretty unique challenges).

Race weekend

So Heather decided to try her luck at the 120 mile distance, which meant that her race started Friday, almost 15 hours before my race. We met up Thursday in Portland, OR and I broke my 3-week sober pre-race streak with a delicious Oktoberfest, Blonde, and Hazelnut Porter from Alameda Brewing near our hotel. We both went to sleep early and slept nearly 12 hours, which was great. When we woke up Friday, we grabbed coffee, breakfast, and then were off to Marble Mountain Sno-Park to check in and get Heather on her way. It was a beautiful drive and after checking in, we drove around some to try to find Mt. St. Helens.

Well we found it.

I yelled and nearly crashed the car when I saw it appear. What a sight! It was one of the few sights of the mountain that I’d get that whole weekend unfortunately.

After we had the pre-race meeting, I got Heather mentally ready and sent her onto her bus, which would drive her to the start of her race. I drove back an hour out to the nearest town to get some sleep.

Race Day

I had no trouble whatsoever waking up and getting myself to the car. I was so excited, so ready to start. I wasn’t even nervous. I just knew that I was going to enjoy this and that I was ready.

Well, no matter how ready I was, I couldn’t start until we got to the starting line. All the 100k racers hopped on school busses for a 90 min drive to the official start at Elks Pass. I was on the third bus. After ~60min of driving, we hear over the radio “Hey I think we’re lost.” Turns out the busses missed a turn in the fog and were stuck on a narrow logging road going up a steep hill. 45 minutes later, the busses each had to navigate a tight 3 point turn. Our bus driver was beside herself, announcing how she hasn’t been doing this long and was nervous which naturally made me scared. During the turn, the bus was tilted back, going uphill and it stalled while trying to drive forward for a second. I was never more awake than I was in that minute.

Eventually we made it to the start a bit late. There would be a 45 min delay in start, pushing the official start back to 7:45am. Before we started, I had to pee. I ran off behind some trees and some other racers had the same idea. While crouching to pee among some foggy tall pines, I put my hand down in the soil for balance. After I had my stream going, I felt something wrap around my fingers and along my hand. I am practically gagging just remembering this… I looked down and saw a HUGE earthworm giving me a good luck hug. I immediately started gagging and threw up my banana and granola bar breakfast. I was also still peeing and trying to get the worm off. The result was hilarious: I peed on my leg/shoe, threw up on my shorts, lost my precious calories from breakfast, and fell over hopefully missing most of the carnage. Maybe 3 people saw me and asked if I were okay, to which the answer was obviously NO but I said I was and prepped myself to start. It was such an eventful pre-race!

Elks Pass to Norway- 10 miles. +2288’/-2691’

Most of this section was really enjoyable. The trails are nothing like the east coast trails! I barely saw a root or rock and there was nothing to trip over or roll an ankle on! There were plenty of puddles but the weather wasn’t so bad to start. It was foggy and drizzly here and there. If this weather held, I would be in heaven!– spoilers: the weather doesn’t hold.

The major event of this leg was around mile 4, when I was wedged in a group of men running and at the same time 3 out of the 7 of us yelled! Someone must have disrupted a wasp nest on the ground and they were out for runner revenge. I was stung on my calf. I have never been stung by a wasp before and that sucker hurt. It made me run fast to get out of there. I can’t believe there were wasps that high up! I learned later that they were stinging everyone who passed for hours.

This section was beautiful, with tall coniferous trees and views of the mountains we would climb next. It was a great warm up. I ran some of this section with various groups, but importantly, this was where I first met Dan—a PNW local who I would end up spending most of the race with.

Norway to Coldwater Lake- 17 miles. +3682’/-4834’

This section starts with a long, long climb up Mt. Margaret that provided wonderful views of Spirit Lake. After a long climb over the pass, you descend forever down to run along Coldwater lake into the aid station. The weather was still pretty great for most of this leg; I even stripped down to just my Janji singlet for some of this section.

This section was breathtaking and also mostly runnable. I hiked the big climb for the most part. I did not want to run out of energy, not knowing how I would fair once I entered new distance territory. During this section, I met Dan’s friends Jason and Kerstin. I would spend a large amount of time running with them as well!

Spirit Lake

 

 

 

 

 

 

The calf was swelling and red and oozy from my wasp sting. When I got into the aid station at Coldwater Lake, I wasn’t sure what was going on. I told some of the volunteers or crew for other runner what had happened and one person asked me if I was allergic to stings and if I had an epipen. I found this hilarious and just started laughing, which probably came off as rude. My dream of using an epipen mid race almost came true! Alas, I took a Benedryl instead and while that reduced my allergic reaction, it made me super tired. Oh well, no time like the present to fight drugged fire with drugged fire—I chugged some coffee. I felt good, I felt ready to continue. I was only 30 miles in.

Jason and Dan up in front of Kerstin

I cannot get over this photo.

Genuine smile, I LOVED this course

Janji singlet makes a brief appearance! Runjanji.com

At this Aid Station, I refilled water, ate half a veggie burger, and from my drop bag I switched my buff. Out I went for the next short section climb!

Coldwater Lake to Johnston Ridge- 6.6 miles. +2287’/-612’

 

The only view of Mt. St. Helens until we were on her!

This section was mostly a hike for me. I spent much of it alone, just trying to take in the view. We climbed up a large, cliffy pass that had a breathtaking open view of Mt. St. Helens and I couldn’t stop grinning ear to ear. I was so happy to be in this amazing place, in the rain even, just enjoying the challenge.

I got to the top with another woman named Kelly whom I was chatting with a bit. She worked in child research in Seattle as well—studying a slightly different domain. Such a small world!

At this aid station, I sat near the heater for a bit. I was 36 miles completed, just over halfway. The easy half was done, the hard stuff was coming. It was windy and getting cold. It was raining a bit, but nothing too serious. I was still carrying all my gear and wearing only shorts. I wasn’t cold… yet. I had some soda and a grilled cheese and some soup. Then I was out.

My only heat source for a while, and my last photo of the race

Johnston Ridge to Windy Pass- 6.7 miles. +1189’/-1244’

It was cold and rainy and getting dark. My iPhone doesn’t have a case so I put it in 2 ziplocks and shoved it deep in my pack. It would not come out for the remainder of the race.

It was starting to get dark. Headlamps came out and this is when much of our group solidified. I met another runner named Kevin from Idaho, Jason and Dan, and myself were to spend most of the rest of the race together. Together we hiked and chatted for most of this section, getting to know our stories and experiences and sharing what knowledge (or lack thereof) we had about the race. The time seemed to fly by with them by my side! We heard elk in the distance, caught headlamps maneuvering on ridge lines far away, and started to settle into a slower moving rhythm.

Windy pass aid station was a saint in the night. It was a couple of tents and there were a bunch of runners there when we arrived. Upon our arrival, the rain began to fall. I mean it started RAINING. It was raining a little for the first half of the race, but now it would downpour and continue to do so until well after I finish the race many, many hours later.

At this point, I could feel blisters forming on my heels. I had someone put some moleskin on it, but with the rain, I wasn’t confident that they would last. Oh well—nothing much I could do. I took some Advil and talked my team into heading back out into the rain.

Windy Pass to Blue Lake- 14 miles. +2818’/-3732

Okay. I was feeling really, really good at the start of this section. I was encouraged! Only a marathon left to go! There would be no views, no reason to stop. I had energy and felt like I could move faster than the group. I considered splitting and trying my luck on my own, but am glad I changed my mind to stay with people. This section ended up being incredibly dangerous and slow.

This section runs alongside and around Mt. St. Helens in the blast zone. There were no trees, very little scrub, and just ash. Slippery, ashy trails. There were lots of water crossings now as well, lava made streams carved into the mountain.

The trails were narrow, singletrack. If you slipped on one end you could fall and without trees or rocks to grab, you could really fall. At one point I slipped and at another Dan slipped. We both caught ourselves, but then we directed our headlamps down into the abyss only to see just that. We would’ve been pretty much screwed. I slowed down, I couldn’t run, paralyzed with fear.

It was during this stretch that the fun ended. I put on my rain jacket and my hiking pants over my shorts. I remember being ~ 5 miles into this section and thinking this exact thought: “Hey. I don’t want to play anymore. I am freezing. My gloves are soaked. My shoes and pants are soaked. I’m tired. I don’t want to play for another 8 hours. I’ll just stop.”

This thought was so profound to me at the moment. This wasn’t your dad’s first road marathon. This was a rugged, remote, dangerous, survive it trail ultramarathon. You can’t just stop and have a volunteer save you. You are on your own. Survival kicked in, I stopped thinking any thoughts at all and just marched. This section was long, but I kept marching.

I didn’t even think twice about water crossings, even the Toutle river. I just waded through—it didn’t matter, I was already soaked. There were 3 rope sections, where the trail was steep enough to require a rope. The first was a descent and I’ll give it to the trail—the rope was helpful. The next 2 rope sections were ascending after the river crossing and this was the section where I started to get my good attitude back. I saw the “Steep: need rope” section and laughed. This was NOTHING compared to what our White Mountain trails were like! I easily hopped up this 100 ft climb hand-over-hand while others waited in line to use the rope. East coast trails are not trivial, they are rougher and more rugged than most of this course (until the boulder field). We then climbed and descended for another hour or so until we came FINALLY into the Blue Lake aid station, a place I was starting to doubt even existed.

At Blue Lake, I was feeling hypothermic pretty bad. I was completely soaked. I got out all my layers, changed my base shirt and buff, batteries in my headlamp, and put on my down jacket under my rain jacket. I hung out near the lamp trying to dry my pants, but really, what was the point? It was still pouring outside. I didn’t even bother changing my socks because they would not stay dry over a minute. I hung out here and ate some more soup, re-stocked my gels and rested for a very long time. Kevin told me that this was his first 100k and longest run ever also. He seemed happy to have made it the 57 miles already and was unsure how the last bit would go. I told him we were going to make it. Dan left a bit before us with a pacer. Jason picked up a pacer named Angela who ended up guiding our group out. I am forever grateful to have someone cheerful to guide us and making sure we were making all the right turns. One more leg and then it’s over!

Blue Lake to Finish at Marble Mountain- 12 miles. +2614’/-3172’

This section starts with a long climb up into the boulder field, then you navigate across the boulder field, and then make the final descent.

The climb was brutal. My blisters on my heels were agonizing. At least I was able to warm up some while climbing. I kept my head down and tried to stay with Angela. She helped keep us moving at a great pace. We were over to pass a few people and get to the boulder field in good time.

The boulder field was nearly identical to what the Presidential Traverse above treeline looks like. I was VERY familiar with those types of trails and felt right at home, while almost everyone else was in a panic. The difficulty in this section was navigating the trail. There were no cairns and we were reliant on the sparsely used reflective race markers. We went off course a few times and Angela, bless her soul, offered to do most of the dirty work in finding the correct way. Once we found it, we were able to navigate through most of it. Then the sun started to rise. It was still pouring but the sun was coming up. We would live!

Or maybe not. The boulder field was very exposed and windy and we were done climbing and doing a lot of slow moving or standing. This did not help my hypothermia. I was getting very cold, and my hands were quite numb. I tried to keep them in my pockets as much as possible but the boulder field often required hand support. After we made it through most of the boulders, the others were much slower moving through it. I made an executive decision at that point that I could find the trail on my own at this point and would need to run in order to stay alive. I needed to get warmer and running was the best way.

The sun was up, the rain was still pouring, I had 4 more downhill miles to go. I had plenty of energy left, my muscles felt surprisingly fine. My only bodily pain was blisters on my heels. I ran those last 4 miles fast. Passing a few people on my way out!

I finished in an official 25:06:52. 41^st finisher. I immediately saw Heather, who did not have her ideal race, but I was glad to see her feeling better.

Post Race

So I did it. I finished my goal race and all the associated challenges of that particular race. I met some incredible people, some inspiring 120 milers, and saw some terrain that left me breathless. I did the first 50 miles in 15 hours, and the last dark 19 miles in 10. Could I have finished faster? Yes. I didn’t leave it all out there, and that’s fine! I wanted to finish alive, and now I am even hungrier to perform better, to run more!

It’s not nearly a week after my race and my body feeling both awesome and awful. My muscles and blisters are fine! I use healing Band-Aids on my blisters and they are good to go in 2 days. My legs felt fine, I sustained no injuries. My shoulders and back are sore, and that in exacerbated by my cough but I was able to run twice this week. I am suffering from a really awful cold that I’m sure I acquired during that rainy wet cold night. It’s better now, but I was stuck in bed.

I am still buzzing from the experience. I walk around knowing that what I went through isn’t a common experience. Sure.. “everyone can run an ultra” but I would not say that everyone could finish that Bigfoot race. I know that this race has changed me, changed my perspective on what is possible and what I am capable of. I didn’t even seriously think about dropping at any point (other than in the middle of that one section where I couldn’t actually drop, thankfully)! I am hungry for more and know that I am capable of running longer distances and maybe more mountain ultra races. I’ve shattered my glass ceiling this year.

This week I’ve forced myself to never drop from challenges. No giving up because something is hard, or you are stressed, or sick, or tired. Case-in-point, I have a manuscript submission deadline approaching tomorrow that I have been scrambling to throw together a submission. While working with my co-authors on getting it ready, I could easily say “we can miss this deadline and just submit it some other place” which is a perfectly reasonable thing to do. However, yesterday when my advisor came in and asked me “Do you think it’ll be ready to submit Saturday?” I sat quietly, looked around, and said “yes!” because even if it isn’t, I’m sure as shit going to try to get it ready. (It’s not quite ready right now, but I still have all of tomorrow to get it done before the clock runs out! No DNFs.)

People to thank, important people!

First, I HAVE to thank Boston University Physical Therapy, specifically my PT Roni Mielke. She worked with me 2x a week to fix my calf muscle that I tore 8 weeks pre-race. At that point, I thought it was pointless. I would miss prime training time because of this and then would have to build back strength. Roni thought otherwise and she worked me hard and gave me homework that I did diligently. After 3 weeks, I was able to walk around painfree, even on hills! She gave me a green light to try “some easy running and hiking”… which was when I went for my 2^nd Pemi Loop (it counts as some hiking, right??) and when I was able to do that pain free, I knew I was in the clear! If you are suffering injury and want to work on it, get a script and go see BUPT.

Roni and I with my “graduation” shirt!

And Roni, who is from Washington state, was actually getting married in WA the same day as my race! I briefly joked that if she didn’t fix me before my race, I already had a plane ticket and would just go to her wedding. Perhaps that was a little extra motivation for her to get me back to tip top shape.

Secondly, I want to thank my sports masseuse– Anna (Manna Massage). Anna is a magician with her massages and she’s great to talk to and will try to give you preventative advice. I’ve been going to her for about a year now and I recommend her to my running friends and will plug for her now. Go see her if you’re in Boston, especially near Brighton! She’s right near the Chestnut Hill Res.

Third, I want to thank Ruby and Jenna—my roommates who are not only really tolerant of my freaking out about everything, but also took care of Sky while I was away.

This photo is indicative of my roommates, I think

Last but not least, I really want to thank Heather. Heather and I were never very close when I lived in NJ but that’s not because I didn’t always want to run with her! She is an inspirational runner and person, compassionate in her job (a veterinarian), intellectual and well read leader of our book club, philosophical and hungry to take classes, interested in learning new languages, and she doesn’t give up on anything. Heather went to attempt a freaking 120 mile mountain race in the storm. She had to drop 75 miles in after wandering around with upset stomach and unable to eat or drink for 20 miles. She made the right choice to stop and live another day and while she might not believe that the DNF was okay right away, I hope she will soon. It is no way an indicator of failure, it’s just an indicator that she’s as smart as she looks. I’ll take the lessons I’ve learned from watching Heather tackle races like Manitou’s, Whiteface, and Breakneck Point and try to carry myself with the poise that she has.

 

So here I am, up around 11:30pm on the Friday night following my race. What’s next? I don’t know. I have Ghost Train next weekend and TARCkey Trot in November still this year. But similar to how I aimed high for Bigfoot more than 10 months before race day and how everything I did in 2016 was leading up to it—I think Ghost Train and TARCkey Trot will be prep races. I want something bigger and now that I’ve finished my 100k, I am ready to go for it. I just have to register first, but I’m going to run the Vermont 100 mile endurance race next summer.

EXTRAS: Want to see more cool photos? Photographer Howie Stern did an amazing job shooting the race, with a few shots of me! Check out his page here! His photos tell the real story, and also capture the real rain that we had!  I recommend checking his photos out even for just inspiration!

To pace per chance to dream (no sleep involved): Vermont 100 Pace Report

Some months ago I decided that I wanted to be a pacer. I wanted to test myself as a companion runner, see what the final 30 miles of the VT 100 course looked like, and see what a runner that far into the race was feeling. I finally thought I was fit enough to pace someone for 30 miles, giving them my energy and concern and not worrying about myself. I thought about the Vermont 100, I was going to go to it anyway, either to crew, pace, or volunteer in some capacity.

After taking mental inventory of everyone I knew pacing VT 100, I decided there were people I could and could not pace. Some people I knew running were just too fast for me to be useful. Some were too slow for me to want to walk so far. Some were people I don’t really like. I thought about one runner who I admire a lot as a person and especially as a competitor and when I realized she was running, I immediately begged her to let me pace her. I’m talking about Lauren, RunsWithMacy! Lauren is an ultrarunner from NJ who I ran briefly with as a member of RVRR. She has completed the 100 mile distance once before at Rocky Raccoon. She is a smart, sassy, honest and strong person, who I think I can identify with. After asking, she didn’t give me immediate gratification, but had other strong RVRR women who expressed interest in pacing as well. I told her I was healthy and happy to pace the whole 30 miles and if she could let me know at some point, I’d appreciate it. As backup, I contacted the race to see if they could pair me with a racer who was looking for a pacer.

A few weeks later, early June maybe, I got an email from the race asking if I’d like to pair up with a racer. At this point, I reached back to Lauren for confirmation. Within a few hours I had my gratification—I would be pacing Lauren! Awesome.

Fast forward to race weekend. The 100 mile racers start at 4am Saturday morning, the 100k racers were to start at 9am. Many friends from Massachusetts and NJ were racing one of the races, and others were up to watch and crew or volunteer time at aid stations. Hannah again was captaining Keating’s and would bring Dani along, Jayson and Alli would be at 10 Bear along with everyone from TARC, tons of RVRR caravans were arriving. Ryan decided last minute to give it a try, too!

I hung around at the start/finish (Silver Hill) before the pre-race meeting to hang with Ryan and catch up with Lauren for a bit. After the dinner, I headed away towards Springfield, VT where Lauren and Kyle had rented an apartment for the weekend. It would be a full house. Turns out Dave, John, Joel, and Anne were also crashing there! Friday evening turned into a late one as I hung out drinking beers and catching up until nearly 2am, without falling asleep until after Lauren got up and left for the start. Sleeping on the couch meant I was in the way of apartment traffic for the most part. Overall, I think I cranked out 3 good hours of sleep that night. I wasn’t too worried for a number of reasons:

1. I was excited, and that is enough to keep me awake
2. I could nap later at 10 Bear before Lauren comes in
3. I banked some good sleep earlier in the week

So Anne, Joel, and Kyle were off to find Lauren earlier in the day, while John, Dave, and I slept in and tried to eat breakfast. John was in Vermont, unknowing about the race. He was under the impression that everyone was just hanging around for the weekend and that sounded like fun to him so here he is! While that is hilarious, it’s still awesome because John is great, and I learned that he and Giselle are moving to Newton center ~ 2 mile from me! Dave was up because he was pacing a racer he knows from somewhere and thought he was going to be on his own all day, and yet we 3 had each other.

Neely (Miss Vermont) has some weird pre-race rituals…

We went to Hartland Diner for breakfast. This would be the last part of my weekend with cell service and thankfully we dragged our feet for breakfast because while awaiting my eggs bene, I got a couple of missed calls from a number with a SoJerz area code. They left a voice mail that was along the lines of “Hey, Do you have a dog named Sky? We found her and she’s safe. We’re in Cambridge, give us a call back and we can get her to you.” I heard this voice mail and bolted out of the diner to try to deal with this. My advisor was pet sitting for me for the first time, and I realized that I didn’t have his cell phone. I tried to call a few people I thought might have it and they didn’t respond, I played 6 degrees of Dr. Blake and eventually got his phone number through another professor, who was now invested in the story. I tried to call him and he didn’t answer, so now my mind raced to “great, Peter is dead. He was walking Sky and got mugged and she ran away and he’s dead and I should call 9-1-1.” I then attempted to find local friends who could go pick Sky up from her new friends but that was proving hard also. One of my roommates was the first responder and could go after breakfast.

In the meantime, I’m sitting outside while John and Dave are eating inside and I’m hungry and worried. I keep texting the SoJerz Savers thanking them and apologizing for taking so long, and they asked if it’s okay if they buy Sky treats. I said yes but please don’t feel obligated. She then sends me a photo of Sky with the caption “We bought her a margarita toy so she can be on vacation, too.”

Peter finally responds—he’s not dead! Then all is taken care of. I thought about telling the Savers to just let Sky out and see if she goes back to where she came from. Turns out she just walked away from Meighan for a second, and found people walking around and went up to them. This dog. Anyway, with that taken care of, I ate up heartily and then we went to Silver Hill, dropped John’s and Dave’s cars, grabbed Ryan’s unused Crew Pass and went off to 10 Bear, where I would stay for 10 hours!

10 Bear was great, it serves at the only double aid station of the race, where 100 miles and 100k racers hit it twice. 100 milers come in at mile 47 and again at 69. My first thought was to hang here, see Lauren, and then maybe eventually go out and eat a dinner. But since we knew so many people who were so spread out, I ended up staying forever.

First I saw Ryan come through mile 47, he looked awesome and felt awesome. Then Lauren. Then Gene for 100k. Then I went off and took a brief car nap. Then I scared myself by thinking I locked my keys in my car—which I technically did but luckily had a window open, the flood of relief when I realized my window was open nearly brought tears to my eyes. Anyway, it was getting late. I had subsisted most of the day on pickle flavored potato chips and fruit snacks. My stomach was complaining, as it should. Kyle had told me he had burgers and hotdogs that he was going to make for dinner for us, but where was Kyle? I was hanging around in the dark with Tom and Jayson, also waiting to pace, just thinking about how hungry I was. Then Ryan came through! He made it to mile 69! He wasn’t looking quite as great, he had ankle pain in both ankles and needed to see medical for a bit. He got on his way. Then Kyle, wonderful Kyle appears! I scarf 2 cheeseburgers and a hotdog like a fat kid and immediately feel better.

Around 10:45pm Lauren comes into 10 Bear for the second time. She looks fantastic. She is moving well, her IT band issues are resolved (thanks Advil) and she could stand up on her own. I was changed and ready to go out with her! I was wearing my dope Janji shorts, singlet, and prAna hat—my favorite outfit. I had in my pack arm warmers, headlamp, notes about how far to the next AS, some gels and Gus and fruit snacks, batteries, and I quickly downed a 5 hour energy. I left my running bag with Kyle, thinking he would bring it to all the Crew stops for the remainder of the race. That was my assumption and that was wrong—he would be at mile 76 but after that, he was going to sleep. Whoops.

Around 11pm, we were off for the night. As a pacer, I learned a lot from watching Lauren and also felt an almost maternal need to make sure she felt good and finished. Despite RD Amy’s forecast for a dry race, we ran almost the entirety of our time together in pouring rain and thunderstorms. I mean big storms and lots of rain. It rained over an inch of water during the night.

Lauren and I were both running with literally the shirts on our back essentially for the final marathon of the race. She didn’t have a drop bag, I didn’t either, and we had no Kyle. This was fine. I immediately made the rule that neither of us were to take off socks/shoes. Lauren self-diagnosed herself as having drank too much water and she was able to solve it by not drinking and peeing every 5 minutes. I was very impressed with her cognizance and composure to figure it out so far into the race.

As we moved steadily, our splits got faster! Once Lauren figured out her body, we were able to run every single downhill and walk with speed up each climb. I think we passed between 20-25 racers from when I picked her up to the finish, and we were only passed once. Lauren had a great attitude and never once talked about stopping, she got up from every chair on her own and she must’ve done 30 squats just getting up from peeing. I am so impressed and inspired.

She crossed the finish line seconds after 8:30am, for a 28:30 finishing time. She is a machine, and next year I want to say I did the same thing: I’m going to try to run 100 miles at the Vermont 100 next year.

See you next year, finish line

The course was mostly dirt road, with a few trails thrown in for good measure. I think this course could be run with road shoes. I ran in my Topo Runventures, which was far too heavy duty for this course—but I also don’t have any other shoes really so there’s that.

What goes through a racer’s mind in the final marathon of a 100 mile race is where I must find my own motivation and strength. There was nothing worth saying about the entire distance to keep a racer going. There’s nothing stupider than to hear “Only 25 miles left!!!” because that is ignorant. If anything I would say, “2 miles until the aid station.” Or “we just ran a whole mile straight, you’re crushing it.” Yes, a whole mile is worth the celebration sometimes. Its little steps, moving forward, and repeating that until you finish or until you physically cannot do it anymore. This type of distance is when you beat yourself mentally to actually test yourself physically. I have never been at that point, the point where my body forces me to give up and I have the mental push to continue.

I cannot wait to try put myself in this extreme condition, to see what happens to myself, to see where my mind draws strength from. 50 miles is not trivial, but it is not flirting with the limits of what my human body can achieve. I’m thankful to be able to pace such a strong role model, impressed with her composure during the race, and motivated to find my limits and realize they aren’t as limiting.

Of course, one step at a time. I’m focusing now on Bigfoot 100k first. I was scared of this race for a while, it’s a lot of climbing and descent, but between White Mountain adventures and recognizing that I can do so much more, I’m starting to have fun and look forward to kicking some ass in the Cascades. Trail running, ultramarathons, and finding yourself alone in the woods have been pivotal for me as a growing person. I encourage everyone to try to test themselves in the same way.

Salomon Trail Running Festival- Canicross 5k & Pinelands 50 Miler

I’m never in a huge rush to write up anything. I’ve found my desire to write up about this past weekend even more minimized than usual and I’m not sure why that is. I had a fun weekend, I finally ran an ultra with a bunch of my friends present, the weather was stupendous and I had a decent run. I’m not sure why I have this strange feeling about the race, about running that kind of distance, and about what trail running and ultra-racing mean to me. I’ll try to summarize later, perhaps writing out my thoughts about the weekend will help me come together to some conclusion.

The weekend plan.

The Salomon Trail Running Festival at Pineland Farms is great for groups with tons of talent, enthusiasm, but who all run different distances. There are distances from 5k through 50 miles, offering everything in between. This was ideal for our club, since everyone can run a short race, and many people wanted to come and test themselves at a large race. We had over 10 members come up to race at Pineland farms! Since a large number of us were heading up, we thought it was work best to camp out Saturday after the shorter races, and then again on Sunday after the 25k and ultras. Camping is fun, large groups camping is fun, and the campsite was unbelievably conveniently located only 3 miles from the race. We made plans at Bradbury Mountain State Park. We all thought out tents and food. We planned for 3 dogs to hang out. It was all in all a good plan!

Saturday- Canicross 5k for Sky

On Saturday, Ruby and I hit the road early. Buck and Sky in tow, we were out the door by 6:30am heading up to New Gloucester, Maine. Sky and Ruby were racing Saturday and it was already unbearably hot out that early in the morning. The high was 91 degrees for the day, dangerously hot for runners and dogs. When we got to the race, I was nervous. Being a Canicross, the race was dog specific and there would be many dogs around. Sky is not a calm dog, and she is not great with all dogs. She is dominant and can be aggressive towards smaller dogs, but she listens well, and has been through professional training with me. I can handle her and call her off—but I’m not sure anyone else can have that kind of control over her. I know that she and I are bonded, how could we not be by now? I don’t worry when she is with me because I know her quirks and know what signs to look for and how to divert her when she gets that “Border Collie gaze” towards another animal (or is it the “Karelian Bear Dog gaze”?). However, it’s not that I don’t trust others with her, they just don’t have the same experience that I have with her or with handling a dog in general. Seth is a great guy, amazing runner, and really good with Sky. However, there are times he’s holding her and not seeing other people with dogs walk by or he’s not paying attention to her behavior enough and there are close calls. In the end, if there is a confrontation—my dog will likely “win” and in doing so, we would lose. It’s sad and scary to think about but given her history, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. That’s why I was worried.

So with 185 dogs registered for the Canicross, I was nervous. I had Seth and Sky walk around to get used to each other. I had Sky get soaked in water to cool off and tried to have her lie down in the shade. She was stressed. There was so much activity and she was with a large group of some familiar some unfamiliar faces. When it was time to line up in the start chute, we had a plan. Sky and Seth would try to get towards the beginning for a couple of reasons. (1) Sky ball is a rocket, an excited, strong, powerful rocket and she wants to be in front and will fight to be in front. (2) I would be able to stand near her just outside the chute and try to calm her down in close proximity to other dogs… many of whom have owners who let their dogs go up to everyone and everything without thinking that maybe it’s not a good idea to approach. And (3) Seth and Sky want to win. So get to the front. In the chute, Sky was fine. She sat quietly, confused probably. There was a border collie milling about next to us and Sky paid her no mind. Then.. the bell went off and she and Seth were gone.

It was HOT. I didn’t know how she would do, I advised Seth to let her dictate the pace, but encourage her to drink some at the water stop. I warned him not to let her gulp everything because of bloat but just drink a little.

Less than 23 minutes later we see Pete and his pup Stella cross the finish! I lost my bet with him I suppose, so I owe him a beer but good for them–strong race! Stella is a beautiful poodle and ran a happy race. Not even a minute later I see Seth and Sky happily prance across the finish. They finished 13^th overall with 23:29, good enough to be Sky’s 5k PR.. AND SHE POOPED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RACE. I love this Poopgirl so much, finishing well and taking a shit in the middle. Seth and Sky were good for an age group award as well! As soon as she finished we hosed her down and got her to the shade. It was dangerously hot out, we even saw some dogs finish and immediately get treated with IV for heat.

Ruby, Wendy, and Kevin ran the 10k, while Chris ran the 5k. After all the Saturday races, we went to set up camp. Then my friend Sean was around and he picked me up to go watch soccer in Portland. I left Sky girl with our pack, and she was well behaved and slept under a table the entire time.

Sunday Morning: Pre-Race

I went to bed Saturday night in my running clothes. While I went to bed, I didn’t sleep a wink. I was very excited, I felt good, I didn’t want to sleep! I wanted to RUN. I tossed and turned and annoyed the dogs in the tent for a few hours and at 4:45am, I got up and got out and—miracle of miracles—I pooped. Got that out of the way! The weather was PERFECT. It was cloudy, not too breezy, and the high was set for around 60 degrees. It was a stunning transition from the day before, and a welcome one.

What to bring? Well, the Aid Stations are spread out throughout the course and there are many of them. I don’t think you went more than 2.5 miles without seeing an AS. I decided against my hydration pack and went instead with a simple 12 oz handheld bottle and a pouch to keep S-Caps, Saltstick, and Advil. I could refill as needed.

Matt stirred himself out around 5:15am, race started at 6am. We were on our way over. Once we got to the race, I dropped my backpack off with the other drop bags, ate a PopTart, and then… oh lord I pooped again! Channeling the energy of Sky, I went to the portajohn and had to kind of hustle to get into the starting chute. 6am, here we go!

Loop 1—mini loop plus the 15.5 miles. (19 miles total).

I ran the first few miles with Matt. We were still waking up, I knew he would drop me soon since he is a stronger and faster runner. I had early troubles with this race that worried me. I didn’t feel fresh. Even in the first 6 miles, my legs felt heavy and each step was an effort. I began to get inside my own head… I had only gone for one real 20 mile training run. I felt great on that run! I was running a similar trail set and managed to fly and feel good in warmer weather. Here I was struggling within the first 10 miles. How could I ever finish out 50 miles?

I tried to let those thoughts dissipate. It was early in the day. My go-to reason to not quit is not a good reason but it often works for me. I ask myself if I am injured. The answer has often been NO. I then remind myself that if I stop now, I would be bored for the next 8 hours so I might as well continue running. Like, I have nothing better to do than run 50 miles!

Well it worked a bit, because after 15 miles (yes.. after 15 miles) I finally started to feel okay and was able to crank out regular miles. The miles weren’t speedy, not nearly as fast as I had hoped for, but they were better. The terrain for the course was runnable. That’s the best way to describe it. There are carriage road trails that wind in the woods, there are mowed field trails, there are relatively no rocks or roots, and the hills are all manageable. Everything was so runnable that even in loop 1, it was tedious and boring at points. I started talking to runners around me. I met Emma from NH and then I ran into Brian—the guy I met at Ghost Train! I learned the course and eventually came through back to the start/finish.

I saw Ruby at this point (and the beloved dogs) and I panicked because I didn’t see my backpack or the drop bags on the course. I remember the RD said they were at an AS and I didn’t remember which and no volunteers at any AS really advertised that. I thought for a second that I had skipped a section and somehow cut the course. I asked Ruby if she could ask someone where the bags were and maybe try to get my bag back to the start so I knew where it was. Then I took off back into the woods for the second 15.5 mile loop.

Loop 2- Three (races) is a crowd

So the 50 miler started at 6am, the 50k at 8am, and I imagine the 25k after that. Loop 2 was a zoo for me. I was middle/back of the pack of the 50 milers, so early on I was passed by the leader of the 50k—no other than Erik. It made me happy to see him, and to see him winning. But after he passed me, lots of other fast 50k runners started passing me and that was hard to deal with. I don’t mind being passed, I know each race is different, but it felt like a long time of being passed. Furthermore, eventually the 25k runners also came flying through… and I mean flying. I saw Jenna, Mel, and Elyse running their 25k and then later Jeremy passed me on his way to finish his 2^nd loop and his 50k race. One girl running the 25k said she remembered me from a TARC race, she told me I looked good, to keep moving, and it really helped. I couldn’t find her name and didn’t see her later but I hope I do one day and I hope I can return the favor for her! That’s what it’s about.

This loop was frustrating for many reasons. My knees were starting to ache and my feet were also hurting. My toes were jamming on downhills and I have never experienced that in my WT10s before so I was frustrated. I even stopped to take my shoe off and fix my sock, not that it helped. The worst is when 25k racers keep telling me I’m almost done. Their heart is in the right place, but, c’mon fuck off I’m not almost done. Ugh.

I re-evaluated my goals at this point. I was around 30 miles through and at just over 6 hours. I wasn’t on pace to finish sub-10 hrs and I didn’t foresee myself speeding up. I thought, I’d settle for a time PR, sub 10:43.

Anyway, I finished that loop, only passed by Jeremy at the end. I had mounting frustration from this part of my race, I wanted something to make it better. I saw Ruby and dogs again, saw Erik having finished his race, and I wanted my backpack to change my shirt. Somehow I put full belief that changing my shirt would make everything okay. So I saw Ruby, she not only couldn’t locate my backpack but whoever she asked didn’t really answer her question. I was devastated. I started to cry. I was mad at the race, mad at myself for trusting the race, mad at Ruby, mad at my shoes. I told Ruby to tell the race director, verbatim, to “shove an asshole up his asshole” and then I ran off crying in the woods.

Oh, was I supposed to look normal?

Loop 3-  Big Dogs Gotta Eat

My pity party tears lasted maybe half a mile. I re-entered the woods and it was quiet. I couldn’t see anyone ahead. I couldn’t see anyone through the woods on the other parts of the course. I even turned around and saw no one behind me. I was ALONE. THIS was what I wanted.

I decided at this point to take some advil. I didn’t really think about how much to take, so I just took all the advil I had… 5 capsules! Is that a lot? Yeahhhhh. But not enough to be too dangerous, maybe just like the dose one would give to a small horse.

I ran alone for a mile or so and the advil kicked in and it felt good. I started to smile. I was able to easily run the flats and uphill, I had to take it easy on the downhills at this point. My IT bands were both flaring and painful, but not crippling (yet). Soon, I hear Matt yell at me from through the woods and I look up and see him. I give him a quick Usain Bolt stance and a “yeeeehaw” and told him I felt good. I think it was a pick me up for him. It was certainly one for me. Matt was ~8 miles ahead of me maybe. He was on to the last part of the race, and I buckled down and continued with the first part of my last loop.

This loop was just about getting it done. I knew the course, I knew what was going on. I just had to go. I kept with my momentum. I ran long swaths of the race. I ran the uphills, which was opposite what most runners were doing at this point in the race. I spent some periods just walking, just focusing on always moving forward and when I felt better, running again. I caught and passed a few people, stopping less and less. When I came through the start/finish part before seeing the last bit of the course, everyone was finished and cheering for me. I saw Jeremy first who informed me he got my backpack if I wanted it. I just started laughing. I had 5 more miles, I didn’t need to change my shirt anymore.

At this point, I re-evaluated my goals once again. I had 75 minutes to go 5 miles. I could make that happen for sure. As I moved, I decided that I could try to for a sub 10:30. With that new goal and the real finish line in my mind, I moved. Big dogs gotta eat.

Still unable to look normal

The final mile- Crow’s errand

I ran a good chunk of that section and came up to the “final mile” aid station and Seth, Ruby, and Jeremy were there. They said a mile to go, I was at 10:16, I was going to make it. I threw my handheld at them, and tried to just keep moving. This last mile is a grassy mowed trail through a field. I took off on the downhill and tried to keep from my knees buckling, as they nearly had a few hills earlier. I turned the first corner and then there it was. No, not the finish line, a goddamn murder crow in the middle of the trail just staring at me.

In my normal, well rested state of mind, I don’t believe in omens or signs or fate or any of that crap. BUT, after 49 miles of running, 10+ hours on my feet, and no sleep for each of the 2 nights before the race… yeah I was a little nervous. This crow, was just walking back and forth across the trail staring at me, daring me to keep going. Every consequence crossed my mind in a split second. First it was, yeah I bet I break my leg on this last ¾ mile stretch. Then, what if something worse happens??

Then, like some dumb triumphant hero, I just ran straight at the sucker while flapping my own arms, and scared it away. I actually stated out loud “not today, asshole” and kept running, laughing at myself for being a complete dramatic idiot. I finished the trail, crossed the road for the last time with the finish line 100 meters ahead. I stopped to shake the hand of the cop who kept me smiling all 6 times I crossed that road. He was a great help and motivator and a cop no less. I thanked him, looked at my watch, and ran across the finish line 1 minute later at 10:27, I suppressed my urge to HOWL,  collapsed to the ground and tried not to cry tears of joy upon seeing my dog. All told, an eventful 11 minutes.

Finisher prizes include a water bottle, large cowbell, pint glass, a pair of Darn Tough socks, and  Salomon head buff!

Post-Race (Black and) Blues

So yes, I’m happy I did some of what I set out to do. I finished my second 50 mile distance race. I didn’t run as well as I hoped to. I learned some lessons during the race, about myself and my style and how to fix certain problems. After the race though, I was a mess. I was hurting real bad. My knees were swollen and I had no control of bending them. My IT bands felt like stab wounds. Sleeping in the tent that night was agony, and mostly impossible. I slept some, but every movement was like a painful alarm clock and it set me awake. I was up again the following morning at 4:30am, sitting in the rain with Seth and Jeremy, talking about how we feel. It wasn’t until we got home, and after a 4 hr nap in my bed plus a 3 mile slow shuffle walk that I started to feel normal again. I was able to run a bit again 2 days post race, completing a short progression run and I’ve biked a ton pain free all week. But I am still very tired.

The Brighton Bangers Running Club had a really strong performance this weekend, starting with the Canicross. Pete finished top 10, Sky and Seth took AG award. In the 50k, Erik took 1^st overall, and the team won the team award. Matt was running his first ultra, jumping straight into the 50 mile distance and he pushed to finish just under 8 hours! This was a personal longest race for so many runners and hopefully a great trail racing experience.

Saturday crowd

The sunday team!

Nutrition Recap:

• S-Cap or Saltstick every hour
• Lots of oranges
• Half water/half gatorade at every AS
• Coca Cola was glorious
• Tons of chips
• Some PB&J
• No GUs or Gels.. all real food
• 5 Advil

 

So, back to my musings at the beginning of this post—where am I at in my headspace? I’m not sure. I’m very tired. If someone had told me a year ago that in  9 months, I would’ve run 5 ultramarathons, including two 50 milers, I would have slapped them. That’s a ton of added stress on my legs. I like the experience, and I don’t regret any of the races (yes even Crap Rocks was worth it), but I’m looking forward to taking some time off this summer and focusing on hiking and climbing.

There is something special about wanting to quit a race so many times. I question what I am doing, why I am doing it. Aren’t I supposed to be having fun? Enjoying the race? Why wasn’t I? Maybe I need to quit running again for a bit to find out…

Traprock 50k- Crap, rocks, 50k

“Never give yourself an out. If you said you’d run halfway and then evaluate it, you’d drop at the half. If you said you’d see how you felt, you’d drop when it got dark or when it got cold or just when you got tired. When you lined up at each race, you had to tell yourself that if you bled from every pore, if your feet broke off and you had to run on your splintering shinbones, if monkeys flew out of the sky with AK-47S that shot ninja swords, you were still finishing that race.”- Mishka Shubaly, I Swear I’ll Make It Up to You

Connecticut, like much of the north east, doesn’t have that gnarly fearsome reputation for being a hardened trail racer’s nightmare. No one ever expresses deep concerns about their upcoming ultra in… Connecticut. I, too, shared this view, having pride in my western Massachusetts and Vermont/New Hampshire mountain and trail running experience. On April 16^th, 2016… in humble Bloomfield, CT, my pride goeth before the fall. And I certainly fell.

The race and race directors were great. The race was held in Penwood State Park along the Metacomet trail. The 50k consisted of 3 times around a 10 mile lollipop loop. There was also a 17k race, consisting of only 1 time around the same loop. The 50k started at 8:30am, the 17k at 9:30am, and we had 9 hours to finish. Any and all extra money from the race goes to Connecticut Forest and Parks Association, right back to the land that hosts us.

Dags and I, hoping to emerge later a Trap King and Trap Queen

So, right, here’s how it goes. Jeremy, who apparently has nothing better going on in his life, graciously offered to drive Erik (17k-er) and myself down to the race, he would hang out, and then drive us all home, an unspoken hero. We got to the race a bit early and had time to hang out, which meant I had time to realize that it was WAY warmer than most mornings have been. Did I actively start drinking water at this point? Nah. Soon fellow New Jersian, RVRR runner, and friend John D’ags and Gisa-saurus arrive. Dags was in for 50k along with his friend also from the Boston area, NP-Reed. Gisa, in a delicate state of AWESOME opted to not run 30 miles but instead hang out and get a haircut and massage, smart lady that Gisa. After a brief trail meeting about something important probably, the director literally shouts “Okay.. let’s start I guess.. 3-2-1 go” and that’s that.

So I’ll describe loop one to really showcase the course. You start by climbing up a few hills immediately, like from the first 30 steps. After a while, the climb evens out and you get a nice long downhill during the 2^nd mile. This takes you passed a road juncture, where you will emerge later. The downhill descends into a swampy area of rocky road type trail, which is gross to run on in my opinion. Then you have the second large climb, and this one is steep and unforgiving. After you get to the top of this climb, there is a pretty wonderful overlook, which is probably one of the highest points in CT for miles. For the next mile and a half, you have found the rocks. Rocks on rocks on rocks. Large rocks, small rocks, pointy rocks, round rocks. All these rocks were fun on loop 1! Technical running, nice breeze, this is what it is all about! The course reminded me of one of my favorite poems, as written and spoken by Albert Markovski:

“The rock just sits and is!”

Anyway, you come down a steepish hill into Aid Station 1. Now, most of my trail races so far haven’t been as pricey as this one and were primarily TARC events (with the exception of the Endurance Society race). TARC, also a no frills event, had humble but plentiful aids. This race had a ton of stuff at this random AS only 3 miles into the race. I mean all kinds of snacks, water, heed, medics, music, portajohns, everything you think you could want or need. While that was more important later on, for loop 1 I didn’t even stop but just ran through.

After the AS, you run a nice singletrack out and back, seems just to add an extra mile or two. After you turn around, you come back and split away before you get all the way to the first AS only to find another fully stocked AS not too far away on the same cut through road. Now we are about 4.5 to 5 miles into the course.  The course now climbs a long steady hill. Up until this point in loop 1, I had been near and chatting with Dags, catching up and all that. He was saying how bad he is at downhills but loves those uphills. During this long hill, I see him smile, laugh, and crank away going “Uphills baby! Wooo!” which was awesome. He should consider (1) moving to Boston and (2) running the Mountain Goat series!

along the middle of one of the climbs

The next couple miles are just a ridge line stretch, rolling along, with some beautiful cut out views. Then you turn left into another AS, equally as stocked. Then you run on a road for a bit. The road was clearly once paved and drivable, but it is kind of amazing how nature, particularly the tree roots, have torn it up. In a few years it will be trail once more. Right along this road I saw Jeremy, hanging out, probably bored. This road runs you down to that junction with the beginning on the course, and then you rejoin going back towards the start/finish. This last section was my least favorite, a long steady climb in and then rolling hills up to a high point and then a steep descent. You come out of the woods, cross the check in point, get some food/water, and then repeat x2. 31 miles.

Loop 1 was great. I think I finished in 2:04 or close. I was ahead of pace but feeling really good. This was probably the biggest problem. I was high on racing and wasn’t getting ahead on hydration. Most others could probably still catch up at this point with some heed and water. However, I am not just any normal individual— let’s talk about SWEAT. If sweating were a marketable skill, I’d be a self-made millionaire. My sweat output per mile is unbelievable in ALL weather and any conditions. I could speed walk a mile naked in the Boston winter and probably have a decent sweat in the makes. While this is gross and problematic in long hot races, I am not ashamed or embarrassed by this. I sweat, get over it. I still have managed to run with people  without managing to disgust them away. The most annoying thing is when I hear anyone complain that they think they sweat a ton. It’s usually perfectly manicured thin girls who know they don’t sweat a lot but make the claim that way when they have a single moist halo around their ellipticaled forehead everyone can comment that they don’t sweat. Shoot me. Anyway, I take pride in my sweatshop and have embraced the nickname donned upon me by Ryan and Ben. I even take pride in my collection of this statement, whom a few people have said to me: “You are the only person I know who may sweat more than me.” Hilarious.

So sweat is the friend-enemy, and the heat from a mild 60-65 degree day was enough to juice me in the first 10 miles so much that I had to slow and relax for much of the remainder of the race. My vision was blurry, my heart rate was spiking and taking a long time to recover, and I had all the symptoms of incipient dehydration and fatigue and still half the race to complete.

I ended up walking/running briefly for the last 13 miles. Jeremy joined me for this long section and I really enjoyed his company, talking when I wanted to, but more importantly—shutting the fuck up most of the time. This final lap was long, but once you start it there is no quitting and that is all I really cared about at this point.

Head down, like an amateur

At some point during this final lap, an older woman ran up and caught me. I spoke to her to tell her to keep on crushing it, and when I heard her speak, I realized that it was Katya! This amazing woman Seth had introduced to me over a year ago and who inspired me from her stories that day. We went together for a mile or so. I told her I fell once and was just happy to still have all my teeth—she told me about when she fell running the Mt. Olympus ultra in Greece and busted her jaw, lost her teeth, and was bleeding on the mountain. She is incredibly badass and I thought about her for much of my final miles, as I tried to pick it up and run again.

The legend herself– Katya!

I finished with a disappointing 7:40. That is a LONG time to be on the trails. The course was tough, the website claimed 2300ft of gain per loop but my watch thinks less—5000ft total. Lots of technical sections, but also lots of easy path. I should’ve done better, but I did walk away learning a lesson and still feeling accomplished for finishing. Hey, if you have a 9 hr cut off, I might take the whole time. Going forward, I think I will just avoid hot ultras. I can’t change my sweat, but I can choose when I decide to spend 6+ hrs in the sun. I don’t have much planned for the summer after Pinelands anyway, just Mt. Washington Road Race and possibly Mt. Greylock trail half the day after!

Dags finished about an hour ahead of me looking great! He took a magic Advil before loop 3 and said it changed everything. He’s even considering a 50 miler soon. NP Reed came in not too long after me, also looking happy! All in all, fun day and GREAT race. Big congrats to Erik for finishing second in his race, and almost looping me despite starting nearly an hour later.

Oooo, purple!

One final important, and quite sad event. This race was the farewell tour for my WT110s, the LAST PAIR. I mean a real farewell tour, too. Not like the Cher farewell tour, (my shoes have been on that trip for months). They are so beat up–there is no midsole anymore and the shoe is peeling away. I couldn’t sideline them for the race. I love them so much, but they were such a pain in the foot and ass for 20 miles. I could feel every step, they were just not worth it. I tried to throw them out at the race, but ended up just leaving them in Jeremy’s car for him to dispose of. If I took them inside, I would probably try to justify wearing them again for another run. WT110s were kind of an addiction… a bad habit that I had to kick.

No midsole = mud foot! (sorry for the gross foot pic, too I suppose)

RIP: The Final Pair of WT110s Probably In the World

You were a great pair of shoes, snug in the forefoot but not too tight on my toes. I loved the connection you allowed me to have with the ground, able to run carefully through the rocks and roots of the Northeast. Sure, I dabbled with other shoes while you were around and I’m sorry. I knew your light was dimming and I just wanted to make this transition easier for me. I’ll never forget you, WT110s, and I’m glad you were with me for a final ultra. I know you weren’t the most popular shoe, but to me, you were everything. Rest easy, and this weekend I’ll pour one out for you while I wear Topo MT2s.

Okay so time to summarize all the lessons.

• Drink. Fucking. Water. All. The. Time.
• Repeat the above.
• Maybe try advil? Who knows!
• Drink water.
• Make Fetty Wap proud #TrapQueen
• Armed monkeys be fucking damned, I finished.

Frigus 2016: a sNOwshoe 60k

Pre-Race AHH

Let me start this post with putting together some thoughts that I had all of 2016 prior to this race. In the end of 2015, I was feeling good but also had mixed feelings about the course of my life. I had completed 2 ultras that fall, 50k and 50m and had dropped from a 40m race early with a turned ankle. I reflected hard on that turned ankle and am not sure if I dropped because of a mental injury or a physical one. Sure, my ankle hurt, but so what? It wasn’t broken, I knew that… was it the excuse I was looking for to stop? In my life, I was feeling a similar mental injury with my PhD program. I won’t get into the grimy details but I was considering quitting, mastering out, and getting a job. PhD program or ultra marathon, there are highs and lows to each race. Find something to push you through the low and you’ll find the high.

My 2016 training was going well. I was X training with spin classes, lifting weights, and some yoga. I hadn’t really gotten any good long runs in, but instead mastered the art of several short runs in 1 day. I was going on weekend trail adventures, primarily with Jeremy and Erik, to the Blue Hills, Douglas, Leominster, and even a midnight hike up Mt. Chocorua! My longest run was only 14 miles but there were many 10+ mile days were I would run commute EVERYWHERE and those 3-4 mile runs add up. In reality, both types of days are important: long runs and many short runs. Long runs keep your mind ready. They train you to mentally persevere. The short runs are great because they treat the day like an ultra! What is an ultra but a series of short runs anyway? It’s just run 4-5 miles, and then feast on a buffet, rinse, repeat.

Mentally, I was not ready for another ultra. Part of me was doubting my own ability as a competitor or as an ultrarunner. I wasn’t sure if my first two long races were a fluke, something that just kind of happened because I wasn’t expecting much of myself. I had put no mental pressure on myself to succeed in the fall, which could have contributed to why I was able to finish. Now, knowing that I have gone that distance, there is expectation. There is the thought that if I am unable to finish it now, it is because I am bad. I am not good enough. I am a failure. Those are the thoughts that really kill me, in all walks of life. That is why my next ultra race would be so important, I had to prove to myself that I was not a fluke, and that it was not some freak accident that I was able to finish 2 ultras in the fall. I need to prove to myself that I’m not an impostor—another stark parallel to the PhD lifestyle (re: Impostor Syndrome). It would be a mental challenge and in being that, I would learn a lot about myself. So what would be my next race?

Winter Ultra….FRIGUS

February 27^th, Saturday, I competed in The Endurance Society’s Frigus race. My charming friend, Ryan, competed last year (as he does with many Endurance Society events) and had chatted up the race. Last year, he finished 2^nd in the Triathlon race—a 30k snowshoe, 30k XC ski, and 5k sled run event. With last winter in mind, I thought I would spend much of this winter honing my snowshoe skills, getting out to the fells and blue hills snowshoeing with my dog to maintain my sanity, much like I was doing last year. With all the snowshoe practice I was planning on aggregating, I should try my luck at a snowshoe race and instead of signing up for a local 10k or even a half marathon, I am infected by Ryan’s “live large” attitude and signed up for the Frigus 60k snowshoe event—up in Goshen, VT in the middle of the Green Mountains, just a casual 3.5 hour drive from Boston. Plucking a feather from Ryan’s infecting cap, I talked 2 of my Brighton Banger teammates (and favorite weekend warriors) to sign up for races as well—Erik for the 10k XC ski and Jeremy for the 65k Triathlon! Hooray friends who also make poor race decisions!

So one big flaw in the Frigus adventure plan was simply out of our control. Winter 2016 was very unlike winter 2015.  Instead of ending Feb with 6+ feet of snowfall, we had –I don’t know… — maybe 14 inches of snow in Boston total! While I am not wholly disappointed with the lack of ass whooping Mother Nature bestowed upon us this year, it did dramatically decrease my snowshoeing practice down to zero. Yup, I went snowshoeing zero times this winter. Which made me feel hilariously underprepared for a snowshoe ultra in Vermont. For the weeks preceding the race, I knew the VT had more snow than we did but I was on the fence about whether or not I wanted them to have enough to snowshoe in or if I would prefer to just run the race on foot with microspikes.

Even if I did know what I would have preferred, it isn’t as though I really have a choice in the weather. Turns out that there was NOT a large snowpile on the trails around Moosalamoo (where the race was held). I could’ve slogged with snowshoes but they weren’t really necessary and the small sections where they would’ve been useful were not worth taking them for the remainder of the 30k loop.

So Frigus Race Time:

Pack light, right? Didn’t wear the pink Nike sweater, the snowshoes, or the headlamps at all! 

Erik, Jeremy, and I went up to VT Friday night before a Saturday 8am start. This was a last minute decision, since the thought of waking up at 4am to drive there in the morning, run, and then drive home actually made me cry. We were able to sleep on the floor of the Blueberry Inn Ski Center with other members of the race. It was far from a good night’s sleep for me, but I didn’t expect to have one anyway. At least we weren’t in the car for nearly 4 hours that morning! At check in, we learned that 6 people signed up for the tri, including Jeremy! I think that increased his hope as performing well but who knows. I had no idea how many women were competing in the 60k (they condensed the snowshoers and xc skiers into 1 race since neither footwear was necessary).

So cozy

I had NO idea what to wear for the start. I procrastinated by staying in my sleeping bag and trying to psych myself up. Apparently, it was 9 degrees outside, but the forecast predicted 20s and 30s as the day progressed. But, I knew we had a few big climbs up mountains and it could be very cold up there. I wanted to dress for when I heated up but I also didn’t want to risk freezing in case something went wrong. I wore my Nike running tights as my only leg layer, thick thick thick smartwool hiking sock, New Balance WT110s, a short sleeve Underarmor base, Nike tech long sleeve, AND my freaking Mountain Hardware Winter Coat up top. I had a buff and thin gloves as well. I have never started a run in my winter coat and was skeptical but also, wanted to be warm!

Just before the race started I met another 60ker named Amie, who was hanging out with Hannah and Yitzy (friends via Ryan). She, besides being a total badass, talked to me a little about conditions and made me feel good that I at least knew someone else competing in the ultra. This was a hard day for her, recovering from shoulder surgery and only a few weeks away from the Georgia Death Race, he goal should just be to not get injured and enjoy whatever distance she was able to complete. Her hilarious personality made me feel good about getting out to the start with my Nathan 11L Pack with socks and another buff inside, Microspikes, and some food. At 8am on the money, the race started.

The Course: 2 “30k” loops

So the course was to be 2 loops of a 30k. Here is some information about the course.

You get most of the climbing done by mile 4. Each loop only offered maybe 2100ft gain and most of that was done at the very beginning. You start with a small bushwack-esque climb through some thicket up a hill and then are rewarded with a STUNNING view of the sun kissing the mountain range. Don’t linger though because you have a runnable downhill to a road that takes you to the second, longer climb up Mt. Romance. This climb is longer and just a grind. Maybe a mile, mile and a quarter in total length you are just climbing and turning and climbing. It’s a true calf burner, but it’s never undoable. When you get to the top of this climb, you’re rewarded with a rolling downhill 1.5 miles that lead you to a road. You’re on that for another few miles and then you turn into the only Aid Station on the course ~ 8.5-9 miles in. After that you turn up another big hill and then you are rolling through for what feels like forever. Eventually you hit the reservoir and are opened up to an amazing view of the hills and peaks you just climbed! The course continues in this fashion until it joins back with the 10k course. Maybe 1 or 2 small climbs and then you are back at the Start/Finish in 16 miles total (a little short of a 30k… but I wasn’t complaining). 30k racers are done and 60k racers must return for more.

Oh yeah? 

View from a top the first climb

Nice runnable hill

The reservoir

Conditions

The sun was out, the sky was clear, and the temperatures warmed up. While I don’t think it got above freezing, it was pleasant in the sun. The first half of the course was snowpacked for the most part, with maybe 4-5 inches of unpacked snow just on the other side of the summits. There were some stream crossings that were only partially frozen over, making it trick to cross without sticking your foot through into cold water. Microspikes were really helpful for me although I don’t think they were necessary. When you did manage to put your foot through into water, it was hell for a few minutes because snowpack would start accumulating under your foot in the spikes which was difficult to maneuver with. On the second half of the course, it was even more post-holing into water and there were some iffy sections on the second loop where so many people had already post-holed that there was no where to really step. My goal was to be done before the sun went down and it got cold. The conditions certainly slowed me down but they weren’t impossible and they certainly could’ve been worse.

 Loop 1- Mental Cramping

My first loop started well. I started with Amie but she wanted to start slower and I know that, personally, I need to move when I feel good and I felt like moving! I made it to the first AS in good time, and took off for the second leg of loop 1. During this stretch I started doubting myself. I kept thinking that I was sore and tired and slowing down. I wanted to get to the start/finish and stop. All common thoughts for ultra runners at some point, I’m sure. I mean, 16 miles is enough for 1 day, right?

So when I made it to the start/finish, I was smiling and happy and just smiling made me want to go back for more. After all, I finished loop 1 in 3:40, hung out and changed clothes and ate and was out for loop 2 by noon. It was only noon—it would be stupid to stop. Why did I even want to stop—because of pain? I’m not injured, I’m moving well, it’s just pain. Without injury, I have no reason to stop, of course this is painful but in the words of my good friend Ryan “suck it up, buttercup.” Plus, there was an unconfirmed rumor that I was in first place female for the 60k.

Charming Loop 1 selfie 🙂 

Loop 2- Cultivation

I have never raced before thinking that I could win something and, holy shit, did that light a fire. I pushed myself and focused my thoughts on how much it would suck to slow down and get passed. I didn’t even know for sure if I was first female but even the thought that I could win a race made me move. I pushed through the climbs, didn’t linger at the AS, and that final leg, the last 8 miles were slow. My mind was all over the place, I was checking over my shoulder, I had to fall into a trance. I started thinking deeply about a theme my yoga instructor introduced the week preceding my race. She talked about this idea of cultivation. We are natural cultivators of our lives, be it our diets, lifestyles, mantras, or views on justice and the social world. I began to deeply reflect on my own cultivation of myself and my role in the community. I plan on writing a whole post on this idea and what cultivation means to me. It brought me through the wood during this loop and I hope it brings others through their own woods, as well.

After a while I ran into 2 guys—Davey and Shawn—who kept me company for a while and also kept me shuffling along on sections I may otherwise have walked. Closer to the end I ran into Erik and Amie! Amie unfortunately had dropped at 30k and went back for a 10k loop and Erik was out on a stroll to find me. I walked with them for a bit, but then ran in for a 7:58 finish with Shawn and Davey. My second loop was just under 4 hours!

Feeling way better on loop 2 without that giant jacket!

First place? Really?

I was really pleased with my effort, although at the end, I felt good enough to go back out (just like the other time I made it to the start/finish!) which probably means that I did not put enough effort into the race. I always feel like I end races with something left in the tank and I can’t tell if that is good or bad. I would like to compete with everything I have at some point, where I cross the finish line and am unable to take another step. (Kind of like how Jeremy finished, except I would probably try to fuel myself better).

Oh yeah! Jeremy won his race, too and came in ~10 minutes before me. Erik, who was signed up for 10k, actually ran the 30k and would’ve taken 1^st place if he has registered for that race. So overall, Jeremy finished 1/3 (only 2 people finished the tri) and I finished 1/? (only 5 women finished the 60k). BIG DOGS GOTTA EAT.

Big dogs gotta eat. 

A good showing for the Brighton Bangers at our first ever Endurance Society event! I should shout out to Andy Weinberg and Jack Cary for putting on a really great, wholesome and fun event. I wish I could make Infinitus this year (Pinelands is the same weekend) but maybe next year!

As a winner, I got a GIANT medal (which I turned into a coaster) with the ES logo, a crate of goodies, and a free pair of Icebug shoes! Pretty sweet!

Some things:

• Stop overdressing.
• You can unfreeze your water bladder nipple by sticking it under your clothes with your other nipples! Warms it right up!
• You are not a fluke. You are not an impostor.
• Keep in your head to keep out of your head- find a mantra that kicks you in the ass and move.
• Don’t hang out forever at AS, get what you need, change your clothes, and GTFO with a pocket full of cookies.
• Having friends at a race is so much nicer than slogging 50 miles by yourself.

 

Snowy Saturday & Super Sunday

February has hit Boston! We started the month with temps rising into the low 60s, then only to plummet and welcome 8 inches of snow, and now–mid month– we are entering a polar vortex with windchill bringing us to -30 degrees “life threatening” cold temps. Life sure is rich!

I’ve upped my running this month. I’ve been run commuting as much as I can, at least 3 days a week. I’ve been getting lots of small short runs in, but haven’t gone for a long run yet. I am hoping to change that but in the meantime, I don’t mind getting the miles where I can. Currently, I took a few days off to prevent metatarsalgia from escalating, and I feel good about it.

Last weekend, Erik, Jeremy, Sky, and I took to Douglas State Park with intentions of hitting the Mid State Trail all the way south to RI and then over to CT and back up. It would’ve been 19-20 miles. Yet, that area got maybe 10 inches of snow the day before which made running difficult and made my foot pads scream. We ended up hiking for a few hours and it was a beautiful day. We ended by hitting up Wormtown brewery in Worcester.

 

The next day was SUPER SUNDAY. The Brighton Bangers were racing this as a team, close to 30 teammates ran it! The race offers a 5k and 5 miler option and allows dogs to compete, too (so long as they start in the back). I thought this would be a good opportunity to try Sky out at a large race (~2500 people). We signed up for the 5k with the intention of running the 5 miles over to the start.

Well Sky was great at the beginning, waiting for the race to start. She was certainly a little stressed with tons of people walking about and petting her and she didn’t know why we were just standing around. The 5 mile race started first and we stood along the road on the side. This was where she started to flip out. As the runners passed she began whining and barking and crying. I felt awful and tried to calm her down with food. She was so uncomfortable, I honestly thought about just forgetting the whole thing and running home. But really, Sky is smart and I think with experience she will be able to be comfortable with the crowds. I’d like to bring her to races for the rest of her life, so this stage of discomfort (for both of us) is something that we have to work on together.

After the 5 milers ran through, we walked to the back of the start. There were other dogs lined up and if I stood with her, she barked at them. So I paced around the start which seemed to calm her down more. She was slowly getting more comfortable so long as we were moving. She is not used to us being outside, her on leash, and us not moving. I think that is what she needs the most practice with.

Once we started, she was TOTALLY fine. She is made to run. I was hoping to take it easy and run slowly but geez, Sky wanted to race. She pulled me for a 26 min 5k, which is far from either of our best runs but she just wanted to get ahead. If there was anyone ahead of us, her goal was to catch them! I should train for a 5k and rest up before one and then see how fast she can pull me!

She ignored other dogs while we were running, she chased runners, made people smile, and wore her own singlet to rep the Brighton Bangers! At one point in the race, she barreled into a road cone and I couldn’t stop laughing. This dog can race but she is not made for OCRs. That’s probably a +5min penalty.

She did great for her first race, I thought. She was kind of a jerky asshole to other dogs once we were standing in the (poorly managed) afterparty. I think she was stressed and overwhelmed at that point but I was still proud. She is a dominant alpha rescue and her behaviors can be unpredictable so a big event like that is both mentally stressful for her AND for me. I’m proud we made it!

50 miles one week, 10k the next

I know, I know, before anyone even has to say it—racing like this is stupid. I can’t focus on running long and also running short, I can’t improve in both at the same time, I shouldn’t test my body 1 week apart. I agree, and my body certainly agrees, but sometimes I don’t plan well and end up with 2 races (technically 3) 1 week apart.

Despite that stupidity, I still showed up for this year’s Jack London 10k Trail Race on Halloween morning. I had signed up for this a few weeks ago because a) I love Jack London b) I like small trail races and c) Jeremy was going so why the heck not, they give ya socks for signing up!

Jeremy is ready to run, sporting the Brighton Bangers singlet like a good teammate

The race started at 10am, which was a godsend since I was up late drinking Friday night and needed as much time to recover in the morning as I could muster. I was also not intending to race very hard—my legs were particularly sore from a swim and strength workout on Thursday. In fact, the whole drive up I just kept telling Jeremy I wouldn’t race, I’m happy to hang out and watch, but I wanted to collect my socks!

Almost makes me want to run!

New England in the fall is something else

Some of Jeremy’s running friends from WPI were also competing. These are the same fast dudes crushing sub-3 hour marathons at MDI. They are fun guys who were certainly here to win.

The park was really beautiful. The race is held annually at Mine Falls Park in Nashua, NH. The day was absolutely amazing, it was approaching 50 degrees, no wind, lots of sun—perfect race conditions. Naturally, I was chronically overdressed for success wearing long leggings (that I pulled to half length) and a long sleeve thick top. Even just running a light warm up I knew I was going to be too hot. But I reasoned myself out of changing with the thought “it’s a 10k, it’ll be over soon”.

Anyway, gun goes off after a brief trail description. I didn’t listen and expected to get lost based on reports of what happened last year. This year it was a new course and the markings were very visible and good, I was never unsure where to go.

I started fast, I didn’t even think twice, I just took off. #RaceEverything. I ran without my Garmin watch and I think that was really beneficial. I checked the time but could never see my pace/distance and that kept me out of my head. I pushed myself, despite all the pain in my legs and feeling my hamstring cramp up. Around probably mile 4, my right foot was aching with pain on the bottom. I’m not super shocked by this, given the miles I’ve run recently. I think overuse is catching up and this is a good excuse to take a week off.

Anyway, I finished somewhere just under 53 minutes, which was good enough for 3^rd in my age group. I got to take home a pint glass with a wolf on it, so that is pretty cool. Otherwise, it was just fun to be out and running on a beautiful day with people I don’t know very well but enjoy all the same.

Jeremy’s friends took 1^st and 2^nd, he took 3^rd, and his other friend took 4^th. And his other friend finished 3^rd female. Fast friends!

I wore my Topo Runventures, slowly working more miles on them. They were strong choices for the singletrack, but weren’t super necessary for this race, since much of it was on carriage road or even paved bike path. Still, glad to have a shoe with a wide toe box!

Take home points:

• Race everything.
• Garmin would’ve hurt me
• Rest your legs now, ya idiot.

S’not easy: Ghost Train Rail Trail Ultra Race Recap- Saturday 10/24/2015

Right now I should be working, as a grad student I really should always be working. But I like to not work and these are some of the things I do to not work:

1. Eat
2. Buy groceries to cook to eat
3. Watch the X Files
4. Exercise, I guess
5. Walk the dog

But right now, I’m not actually hungry (amazing!) and I’m super sore from my race, so I guess I’ll procrastinate by writing about my weekend.

After my MDI adventure last week, I signed up on a whim for Ghost Train in the car on the way home. I didn’t expect to get off the waitlist, but midweek I got that exciting and terrifying email congratulating me on making it officially into the race and off the waitlist. When I got that message, I was really freaking excited! Now I had the opportunity to try to test myself in a supported way! I was going to push myself and see what I was capable of, with the goal of enjoying the experience and not getting injured (because I have the TARC Fells Winter Ultra later this year still).

So Ghost Train is a timed race that is a 7.5 mile out and back through Brookline, NH. A “loop” consists of 15 miles, so you could run as many of these as you want. I knew I could do 30 miles (since I did 30 miles once before in my life so of course I could do it again), but I signed up for 45 miles. I wanted to test myself. What’s 15 more miles?!

The course is very, well.. flat. It is a rail trail. The terrain is soft and covered with pine needles. It runs through a few bogs and there is exactly 1 hill. It is a sizeable hill given the rest of the course, but because there is only 1 hill, when you hit it you feel it. I once ran a marathon on a canal tow path—every single ascent or descent felt horrible. Sweet. Bring it.

The week before, I didn’t run much. I was recovering from MDI and I did one 7.5 mile day run commute with the Sky ball monster. Other than that, I stretched and sat and ate a lot of food. That is my favorite training method.

Oh right! I’ll talk about how I trained for this race! It’s simple—I didn’t. See previous post. But I have an unduly amount of confidence for some reason so that’s pretty much half the battle, right? Right!?

The night before the race, I was ready to not sleep. I got a good night sleep Thursday night and Friday night my roommate and I hung in and ate pasta (for she was also carbo loading for a the Cape Cod Marathon!!!!) and we watched this movie called Dope which is a fun twist on nerdy high schoolers getting involved with grown up themes like drugs. I enjoyed the movie, and I might’ve enjoyed it a lot because I paired it with 4 glasses of wine. Whoops.

I ended up sleeping really well, surprisingly (thanks wine)! And woke up with my bags all packed. I put Sky in the car, dropped her off at Aunt Christine’s in Watertown, and then headed north to Brookline, NH. I got my pre-race doughnut and coffee and felt good to go. The weather was pretty decent. It was chilly at the start but warmed up enough to be comfortable. I started the first 15 miles with half tights, a short sleeve tech, a long sleeve tech over top, gloves, and my buff. I brought my pack with 1 Liter of water but I realized that I probably didn’t need it to start.

I brought with me a billion changes of clothes as well as some snacks and beers for the end. I set up a chair near the aid station and wore my coat until start so as to not get the Chill that killed me at MDI.

The first out and back 15 milers were really enjoyable. I was exploring the course and enjoying the sun breaking through. I didn’t run with anyone on the way out but ran back with some people. All these good feelings made me move much faster than I probably should have, because after checking in at 15 miles, I briefly stopped for a doughnut (I love doughnuts if you couldn’t tell), left the long sleeve and buff and gloves, and took off with arm warmers. This 30 miles was a bit harder, especially on the way back. Around mile 20, I walked a bit. I was just getting bored I think.. but then I started getting sad. I had 30 more miles until I hit my goal and that seemed impossible at the time. My feet were starting to hurt a lot and I took my phone out and did what is always a bad sign—texted my friends. I told them I was sad and crying and didn’t know why. I told them that I just wanted a snuggie and Netflix and running is dumb. They told me to grow a pair (in nicer terms than that) and I vowed to put the phone away for a while and sort out the pain and to at least reach my goal even if I walked the whole thing.

At 30 miles (5:40), I am back at my trusty chair. I find new socks and shoes and change from my NB WT110s to my far less experienced Topo Runventures. The 110s are snug and minimal and I’m pretty sure my feet were swelling in them. The Runventures are also 0 drop, but they have a rock plate and small platform. The toe box is also quite wide with them, room for swelling! I brought the Topos unsure if I would use them since I tend to turn my ankle with them, but I was out of options.
I’m trying to figure out what to do when some dude asks me if I was having fun. I imagine to him, I was just a person sitting in a chair with socks on staring at my feet for a while without moving. I said heck yes and looked up and thought I recognized him. Then I saw he was sporting a Leadville 100 hat and it clicked. I was friends with this guy, Jon, on the FaCeBoOk (but not real life) so I awkwardly just asked his name and shook his hand with dirty socks in mine. Classic Tess. Anyway, we talked briefly about feet and the crappy beer I brought (Name Tag Lager… horrible taste but $3.50 at Trader Joes!) and he said he’d be at the other AS and I’d see him in 7.5. At that point I didn’t really care but he ended up being a pretty important part of my race.

At this point I also drank most of a redbull, and ate a buttered roll (yum), and refilled the bladder and headed out for miles 30-45. My feet felt SO much better, I was able to run a good portion of the way, almost all the way to the middle aid station. After that I ran some with an older gentleman whose name is escaping me, Brian maybe? I enjoyed spending 6 or 7 miles with him. At the turn around, I saw Jon again and he promised me pizza if I finished 50. At that point, that seemed doable! So I turned and on those 7.5 miles back to the start, I felt horrible. My feet got worse again and it was metatarsalgia acting up, each step was awful. I walked a lot on that way back and once I hit the final trail back, I picked up a run. I can’t finish a race walking, no matter how bad. Just run, then it’s over.

I blow through the official tent, give them my number, and after that you have to run another quarter mile down over a bridge and back. I told them I was done, I saw Jon and said “no way, I am done.” and then I turned around and he was legit chasing me with a box of pizza and a beer saying “Wait, let’s talk about this!” which was just such a funny sight to me. It’s like a dream come true to have a boy chase me with pizza and beer! Anyway, I sat down and we talked a bit and within no time he convinced me to go back out for 5 miles to hit that 50 mile mark. But I wasn’t going until after I ate pizza and had a shitty Name Tag beer. Deal.

I ran out for the last 5. I ran pretty well for the first 2.5 (even catching Brian) and then it was time to turn around. At that point I was near a bunch of 100 milers who told me I should seek 60, that I looked too good to stop. They may have been right, but I am still really new to this game. I want to take it piece by piece, get some experience with the physical and mental struggles associated with the distance before I push myself for something big. Besides that, the course was hella boring! One day I want to run 100 miles, but not here. Not on a 7.5 mile stretch of out and backs.

I walked and then ran back with Jon and felt really freaking accomplished. I ate more pizza and drank more beer and hung with my new friend for a few hours. I recorded an official end time of 10:45 for 50 miles. Not amazing, but I don’t think I did too poorly.

We look kinda scary with the flash, but that’s in good Ghost Train spirit!

So how am I feeling today? Pretty damn good actually. My feet are a bit sore and walking up the hills to my house are painful in the calf and butt area, but nothing is injured. My neck and shoulders are sore also which is new, but again… I am not injured and I think tomorrow I’ll try to bike or swim or something.

I want to chronicle my lessons. First and possibly most importantly—I came into this race with NO plan and that was apparent to me around mile 20. I went very fast for the first 15 (coming in around 2:40) and that made me fatigued much earlier than I should have been. It also added to this wall that I hit. I could’ve tried for a very fast 30 mile race, or conserved and tried for a distance goal of 60 miles or more.. but instead of fell somewhere in between and that was mostly because I didn’t have a set plan. That is something I need to think more about while planning these races.

Secondly, as much as I like going by myself to accomplish things, without anyone to impress or feel pressure, I really wished I had friends at the aid station. I wanted to look forward to seeing someone. Jon did that for me at the end but I think the next 50m or more I race, I will bring at least 1 friend. I would be that friend for someone, I hope they would for me, too!

Third, I think I need to invest in some shoes that will be good for me for these longer distances. I love the 110s and Runventures, but they are the Corvettes of the shoe world. Minimal and speedy. I need a pair of mini-vans to strap on my feet for the long game.

Some points about my race:

• My face was the Mass Pike for snot. Breathing was hard.
• I made landmarks out of the boring stuff on the course. “Small Bog”, “Big Rock” & “Don’t go Left” were some highlights
• I swear at one point I smelled Sky’s farts. I even started looking for her
• This race is further proof that I need beer mid race

“Small Bog”

I guess, besides being proud of myself and shit, it’s nice to know that my TARC fall classic 50k finish wasn’t a total fluke. I think I’m going to up my strength training and swimming going forward. Overall, good experience, glad I went, happy I met a new friend, and I have even more unduly confidence now. I don’t know when, but I will get that 100 at some point.

But not 100 miles on this, give me some MOUNTAINS