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!

Shop Post: Everything Recently

A whole lot of catching up to do

Here is the agenda for today’s post:

1. North Twin with Ruby, Buck, & Sky (My #45, #1, #2, #41 respectively)
2. Boott Spurr & Isolation
3. Whiteface & Passaconaway with Matt & Summit (Sky’s #42, & #43)
4. Born to Birthday Run- 27 local miles with human and dog friends in the spirit of the working class!

1. After Hale, I was in the mood to knock off some of the remaining peaks that I had left. I had plans of going up North Twin, over to South Twin, and then down and up Galehead and back out the same way. This would be a big day, ~13 miles and a lot of gain (going up that Twinway to South Twin in the middle). This hike never happened because Ruby and I (and I suppose both dogs) fell in the high river on the way up North Twin. There are 3 river crossings on the way and while it was colder and snowy at higher elevations at the time, I wasn’t horribly worried about freezing because, let’s face it, I’m a furnace. I just rolled up my tights and waded through, expecting to get soaked. Ruby had more issues with the water, ended up falling in early, and never warmed back up. We decided to turn around at the summit of North Twin instead of risking freezing legs. There were absolutely zero views but the snow and rime on the top was beautiful and my first tastes of a winter hike. Spikes weren’t needed but the snow was present. We headed out and to a brewpub to celebrate Ruby’s #1, Buck’s #2, Sky’s #41, and my #45 of the NH48.

2. The following week, I thought about my goal and how I really am not in a rush to hit Galehead, Owl’s Head, and Cabot. I calculated Sky’s peaks instead. She has done all of the ones I did except for Waumbek, West Bond (ugh), Whiteface, and Passaconaway. However, I thought she also hadn’t done Isolation and the Osceolas. I then remembered that one time Ryan and Kristen took Sky to the Osceolas for me while I ran the Mt. Washington Road Race. I made a mental plan to hit Mt. Isolation with her next, totally forgetting that she did that hike with me already. Maybe I’m getting old? I contacted some other hikers and we decided to go over Boott Spur and then down the Davis path to Iso and back out. The night before the hike, I saw a photo on my phone of Sky on the summit of Isolation from over a year ago. Whoops! Oh well, I love Isolation so much that I was happy to re-conquer it.

Jeremy, Seero, Peter, Sky, and I all headed up to Pinkham and met up with Austin (who was planning on camping overnight) and we hit the trail early. This was one of the clearest days I’ve had in the Whites ever. It was not too cold, horribly windy, and absolutely clear and sunny heading up above treeline. For whatever reason, my legs and back were more sore than they had been in recent days and my legs never felt light or felt strong so climbing took a while for me. We still went at an aggressive pace, but none of us wanting to be in the woods after dark. After hitting Iso, Seero and I decided to forego the climb back up the Boott Spur and opted for more miles instead and went out Rocky Branch. It was really wet, but fun hopping along rocks and we got an amazing view of the supermoon through the trees among a cotton candy sunset sky. We got out to the parking lot and were waiting for our rides from the others while chatting with other hikers who were crushing beers and hanging out after their hike. I was in conversation with one guy about attempting a winter Pemi loop with Sky girl and was given the advice to go on an especially cold day. This way, I would move faster to warm up (little does he know me…) and that snow on the trees would not melt and fall on us during wooded sections. Solid advice from a guy who claimed to have done a “super pemi” including Galehead, North Twin, Hale, & Zealand extensions in under 15 hours.

Beers at Moat were especially delicious on this day, as I learned that Pete and Seero like even worse movies than the ones I’ve been watching lately. #RocketMan.

3. It could’ve been scorching hot, pouring rain, tornadoes, or white out blizzard conditions and I would still #OptOutside for Black Friday. Luckily, it was only a little rain and some snow, with heavy cloud coverage in the White Mountains. With proper lists all caught up, I thought I’d hike a Whiteface-Passaconaway loop adding in the Wonalancet Range on the way out. This way I could assure that Sky gets 2 more of her peaks, I could revisit the Sandwich range, and relive the memories of my first hike on this circuit of completing the 48. **I had done Mt. Washington growing up a few times, but after learning about the list, I started fresh with a Whiteface-Pway loop in 2014.

I would’ve gone alone, but thought I’d reach out and see if anyone local was interested in hiking. I first asked my friend Matt since apparently he and some friends went up Iso the same day as we did but we never ran into each other. He was game, and he brought his ADORABLE “brown utility mutt” Summit. We drove through snowy back roads to Ferncroft trailhead and had a decent hike, only losing the trail a few good times. It was actually quite warm for the hike, only windy on the western ledges on the way up Whiteface. We had a couple of beers- one for each summit- and then slushed and slid our way down. It was Sky’s first real snow hike of the season. She went bananas as soon as she got out of the car and was pumped for the first half of the hike just about the snow alone. She disappeared a few times, more than normal—chasing shadows through the snow I’m sure. She could learn a lesson from Summit about just hanging out on trail.. and Summit could learn a lesson from Sky about not stopping under my feet. All in all, a successful “White Friday” and I can’t wait to get out on trails or to drink ales with Matt and Summit again.

Sky and Summit checking out the sky and the summit.

4. This last section is not about hiking at all. It’s mostly going to be a love letter from me to my friends and my dogs. I like to go for a run on the birthday and in the past I’ve tended to run smaller distances for smaller birthdays. 24k, 25k, etc. but last year I went for the full marathon, as it was my first birthday with Sky. We were in NJ and I posted about this last year. We ran the full 26 miles alone together. This year, I was not heading to NJ, didn’t know any trails near Boston where I could feasibly link 27 miles without seeing anyone, and wanted to be always near the car in case my back spasmed and ended my fun. (I’ve been dealing with lower back stiffening and locking, it’s horribly painful when it hurts. I’m on meds and seeing PT. The good news? It doesn’t hurt to walk or run at all!!)

This is where the local favorite trail is pretty handy. Cutler Park is almost, almost, the perfect place for me to attempt this 27 miler. It has ~7 miles of trails that you can do as an out and back that are interesting, but not hard. There are 2 huge water sources for dogs to cool off, drink, etc. and you can link up any distance loops as low as 1.5 miles (just around the Kendrick pond). The only downside being, like all trails anywhere near Boston, this place gets CROWDED on nice days and on weekends. The day I picked was both a nice day (high 45 degrees and sunny) and a weekend (Sunday).

I made a facebook event inspired by my favorite rock and roller (“Born to Birthday Run”), made it public, and told some of my friends that if anyone wanted to join me, Sky, and Buck for any amount of 4 mile loops, they were welcome. Just go to the parking lot, maybe text me if you know what time you want to show up so I can plan to be back at that time, and let’s roll.

Being a closet introvert, I wanted a ton of time alone with the dogs. I started at 6:15am, excited and ready to go. Sky and I were in matching American Flag outfits (although Sky lost her bandanna somewhere off trail). We knocked out 12 miles before being joined by Kerry, Jon, and Jeremy at around 8:30am. I tossed my buff and swapped long sleeves for singlet and arm warmers (40 degrees might as well be summer for me). We did a loop and then met up with Ruby, Em, Mark, and Seth for another loop. 2×4 mile loops + 12 solo miles put me at mile 20, a great time to have a beer. 1 beer later I went off for a small 1.5 mile loop, then dropped Jeremy, Em, and Mark who promised to see me later at the house. I had a quick bite to eat, let the dogs rest a spell in the way, and then Seth and I went out for one more 4 mile loop + a little extra to finish it out.

Quiet sunrise, alone on trails and chilly–my favorite!

By this time ~10:30am, there were TONS of people and dogs all over the trails and while Buck was tired but fine, Sky was getting moody. Everytime we saw another dog, I would grab her and step off and she was fine—no real lunging—but it slowed me down a bit and also made me want to get to the bigger loop where we would be less likely to run into dogs/people.

Seth was fantastic company, and just the right person I needed to finish it out with. He is one of my longest friends from the running club and we’ve gotten close beyond the running community alone. I’m thankful to have him finish out my 27 miles, and Buck’s and Sky’s longest RUN (we didn’t walk for any portion more than 10 seconds at a time). I’m sure each of those pups hit at least the 50k mark with all their playing and off trail stomping they did in those early first 12 miles.

As we hit the parking lot, my Garmin dinged at exactly 27 miles. Seth and I each had another beer while we caught up some more in the parking lot. I didn’t think I’d feel so good, complete it so fast, and emerge without any back pain from this year’s birthday run.

After a shower and 3 servings of chocolate pudding, I was ready to have friends come by for snacks, beers, and Bruce Springsteen tunes. To top all of this off, Sky was so tired but still so bitchy for a spot on the couch that she even voluntarily slept on me. All it takes is 27 miles and no other spots on the couch for her to cuddle with me! It was a pretty awesome day before birthday celebration.

All the redemption I can offer, girl, is beneath this dirty hood!

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!

A different take on the Pemi Loop

I’m not the first, nor the fastest, nor the funniest person to have completed a 30 mile, 18k elevation change, Pemi loop. I don’t want to write up another “first I walked over a bridge, then I went east” etc. douchy report about the hike. If you want to find out details about the hike, you have options! You can:

1. Google “Pemi Hike” and search away for the many other bloggers or AMC workers who have knowledge about the route and elevation.
2. Ask me specific questions, I can chat about the experience in person and will probably give a more animated and, dare I say, entertaining description!
3. I don’t have a three but lists with only 2 items are kind of lame. Either way, I’m sure you can figure out other methods of learning about the Pemi loop.

So, instead of my traditional boring report, I thought I’d do something different this time. I’m going to take slices of my hike, with a timestamp and location, and write to you my internal (and occasional audible) monologue/dialogue that was a running commentary of the whole experience. If you think talking to me is annoying, take pity on me! I talk to myself all the time and can’t get away from me!

So first, I’ll give you the quick and dirty on the trip, so that you have an idea about how far I am and what time it is during different stops on the ever-exciting monologue express (choo choo!)

Friday night I couldn’t sleep. Not totally uncommon, but I typically can’t sleep the night before I am considering a long run or a big hike. Instead of having to wait around until morning like I have to if I’m hiking with others, I decided—hey fuck it! I’ll go hike that sucker now. So at 10pm I drove to Lincoln Woods with my dog and bags in tow and was on the trail at 2am. I also decided on a counter clockwise loop. I chose this route because I have some weird mental block about the Pemi loop going up flume first. I’ll get into more detail about that in a more serious, lame, soul finding bit at the end but for my own mental sanity, I chose CCW this time. I’ve read that the benefit of the CCW loop is that the long flat Lincoln woods trail is done early, which drags on at the end of the hike. The drawback to CCW is that you have a lot of climbing to do late in the day, scaling Lafayette for example at mile 20. It didn’t matter, mentally, CCW was what would keep me going and in the event that I had to bail (or had to help Sky bail), I would at least have seen Bondcliff finally.

Okay so got the details? CCW loop and 2am start. Just my dog and me. All aboard? Let’s start this wild ride.

2:15AM Lincoln Woods Trail, 0:15 into hike

What the hell, Sky? Why are you so slow tonight? Yeah it’s late, yeah it’s dark but you are a dog. You literally just sleep all day. You didn’t have to drive here. Why am I putting such distances between us just by walking. We should be running this section! Sky, c’mon let’s go. She really hates wearing that pack. I don’t get why. She should be more used to it by now. How can a dog who runs runs runs all the time just crawl right now? Are we even going to make it to Bondcliff? Why is she being such a butt? Maybe it’s too heavy. I know, I’ll just dump out her water and make it lighter. Sky, come here, let me… okay there now you have no water. Wait, I’m an idiot. Why even have the pack on her if she isn’t carrying water? Ugh what if it gets hot early? I should just go back and dump the pack but I don’t want to add more miles to this already. I’m so stupid. I just won’t drink any of my water and that way if she needs it, then she can have mine. Wait that is stupid, too.

3:00AM Lincoln Woods Trail 1:00 into hike

Oh my god oh my god oh my god I’m going to die here. I swear to god I am going to die here. There are monsters and bears and moose and all kinds of bad shit out there and I’m just alone walking into it. Fuck fuck fuck what was that sound? Sky, stay on the path please. I am such an idiot, why did I watch a scary movie today? Why why why why would I do that? Trails at night weren’t so scary before, ugh I am going to die here—–WHAT WAS THAT? OH my god please Sky can you just try to run a little with me please. I’m going to just start yelling, make sure all the bear and moose know I’m here… HELLLO BEARS I HAVE A DOG. I’ll just yell that every couple of minutes… oh shit. Oh shit oh shit what is that? Something written with sticks on the ground and an arrow? What does it say? “Help me”? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING? There’s a goddamn arrow pointing down the trail I have to take? Does it say “help me”? I’m not going to look again, jesus I don’t want to know. Oh my god this was such a stupid idea. [This really happened]

3:30AM Lincoln Woods Trail 1:30 into hike

GOOD GIRL SKY. I’m going to just keep yelling that every 3 minutes. I haven’t seen a bear or moose or anything bad yet. Good thing the scary movie I watched was just The Exorcist and not the Blair Witch Project or something… fuck now I’m thinking about the Blair Witch Project. Fuck fuck shit I’m so dumb. Sky, stop trying to eat toads. As soon as you catch them, they just pee in your mouth…

4:30AM BONDCLIFF SUMMIT 2:30 into hike

Holy shit, this is the most beautiful moment of my life. I just experienced more stars than I’ve ever seen before and now this sunrise. I’m alone, there’s a strong wind waking me up, and the summits of mountains are all around me, 360 degrees, rising out of the undercast clouds like the heads of titans. Look! There’s Carrigain, Franconia ridge, Willey, Field, wow this is.. wow. Flashlight off, let me just sit, I think I might cry.

6:45AM somewhere near South Twin, 4:45 into hike

The sun is really up now. I can’t believe what a morning that was. I still haven’t seen anyone, this is really perfect. I wish Sky would move faster though, this is so runnable.

8:00AM Galehead Hut 6:00 into hike

Breakfast for the backpackers, the hut is packed! No dogs in the hut, I’ll have her sit outside while I go in and refill her water bottles that I stupidly emptied and refill my own water. Hmm… I guess I didn’t drink much? I barely have to refill. I really am just so stupid, why didn’t I drink more? Oh well. I’ll feed Sky, too. I could shoot up Galehead and back. It’s a mile round trip and I already missed the West Bond spur. I’m not sure how Sky will fare now that it will be warmer, not sure how I will feel either. I’ll skip it. I’ll be back attempting more Pemi’s in the future anyway.

9:30AM Trying to get up Garfield 7:30 into hike

Man, fuck Garfield, fuck this climb, fuck this waterfall. Holy crap this asshole mountain just shoots out of the ground out of no where and then I have to go all the way back down? This is so stupid. Who is Garfield anyway? Not cool enough to be in the Presidential range, huh? Isn’t Garfield a fat cartoon cat? Fuck this fat cat. Sky is mostly a mountain goat, but I’m doing a lot of helping her on this climb. It’s not even such a huge climb, maybe 1000ft but sharp, so sharp. Ugh, just keep pushing.

10:15AM Garfield Summit, 8:15 into hike

This is my first summit with people! Real people to talk to! I met some dude who was running the loop CW (smart, lucky man) and some day hikers as well as 2 dudes and a dog who slept on top of Garfield. It’s nice to finally be able to talk some. Worth the rest and time for snacks also. I know what is coming next, long descent and then the last big climb. I’ll let Sky rest some more, I think she’s already asleep… “Hey thanks! I love Janji, great company and they make my favorite shorts.”

11:15AM en route up Lafayette, 3.7 miles from Garfield summit to Lafeyette summit, 9:15 into hike

Seeing a lot of people now, it’s a decent hour where people are actually awake. It’s getting warm, too. Especially in these little clearings in the sun. Oh look, more runners! Man I wish I were running. “No you got it, come through. You’re still running..” Oh, that guy knows the Brighton Bangers! He’s running with a few runners from Community Rowing, I didn’t know they had a run club. Cool.. that one guy with the beard is pretty cute. Small world, I think most people doing the loop that I have talked to are from the greater Boston area.

11:50AM very close to Lafeyette summit, 9:50 into hike

LISA?? Oh my god, what a place to run into you. Oh, you think I look fresh? Thanks! Just the pick me up I needed. Enjoy your pemi loop!

12:00PM Lafeyette summit, 10:00 into hike

holy fucking hell, how did all these people get here already? Oh my god, there must be 150 people on this summit, at least 9 other dogs. Oh my god this is going to be awful. I didn’t think Franconia Ridge would be this packed. No, don’t let your dog just run over to mine. No sorry my dog’s water is not for your dog. Fuck off everyone go away. Sky, sorry we can’t rest here, I’m so uncomfortable.

A running monologue for the Franconia Ridge section from Lafayette to Lincoln

Okay, okay, let’s go. Sky, c’mon please lets try to run the 10 yard sections between groups of hikers that we can? I want this stretch to end as soon as possible. Ugh, “ha ha ha yes her backpack is cute”; “no she is tired and doesn’t want to play”; “no I don’t make her carry my things, she carries her own food and water.” Sure you guys take your time, you and your 25 person group can slowly go up this 7 ft rock and not give me 2 seconds to literally jump down. “no I don’t make her carry my things, she carries her own food and water.” Oh my fucking god just move over. Sky, keep up… “no I don’t make her carry my things, she carries her own food and water.” What a tale of 2 halves of the day. I couldn’t have been happier at 4am alone on the other side. There must be close to 1000 people up here. This is worse than the mass pike on a Friday afternoon. “NO I don’t make her carry my things, she carries her own food and water.” I hope to god it gets better after Lincoln. SKY COME ON. This is the slowest final 8 miles of anything I’ve ever done. “No she doesn’t want to play with your dog she’s tired” oh your dog is tired too? Can’t tell by how it’s pulling you all over the place, did you put 25 miles on your dog already? Oh for fucks sake “no I don’t make her carry my things, she carries her own food and water.”

[I realize what a snob I am inside my head but rest assured, I was nothing but polite aloud to anyone. However, I will NEVER attempt to be on that ridge on a good weekend day in the summer every again.]

1:00PM Just past Lincoln, 11:00 into hike

Finally, oh my god finally. Still a bunch of people on this side but in comparison, it’s deserted. I am low on water and Sky is out. We just have to perservere at this point. Liberty is kind of an annoying climb this far into the day and Flume after. At least we will have less people and nearly no reason to hang out on the summits. We’ve been on Flume and Liberty maybe 6 times already.

2:30PM Franconia Ridge after Liberty, 12:30 into hike

I’m on autopilot, just ran out of water, still tons of people slowly going up liberty or going down. I can’t believe how much time we’ve wasted on this ridge.

3:00PM Just passed Flume, 13:00 into hike

FINALLY, 5.5 miles until the bottom, I am tired but I know this is the gently downhill we need. I’ll walk some and run some but we are MOVING. Sky, there will be water at the bottom, at the glorious bottom. We are not so far away. Let’s go let’s go let’s go.

5:00PM Dunking myself in the Pemi River by the trailhead, 15:00 & finished

Oh my god. So this is what it feels like to finish the Pemi loop, huh? I feel awful. I am tired. A girl on a bike just yelled at me because Sky walked in her path. “Leash your dog!” yeah… I get that she doesn’t want to get hurt or hurt my dog but I am way too tired to care. The hike alone is tiring, but without sleep for 36 hrs at this point, plus a drive back to Boston, I can’t be bothered with people. Her stopping her bike shouldn’t ruin her day completely. I thought I’d feel more accomplished or something but the last 6 miles were really killing me. Like KILLING ME. My feet hurt so much from walking, running would’ve been better. I have to think about how to carry some water for Sky if I choose to run it next time.. I can’t go her “pack pace” anymore. Oh well. Ice cold water on the legs is a relief. I’m going to eat a burger and then go home. I wonder what happened to whoever wrote “help me” back there?

…and we will never know.

 

Ladies and Gentlemen: that is my Pemi report. I am tired again just from reliving the whole thing. I’m very proud of Sky for now being able to hold the title we all knew she deserved—that of Ultra Dog. As for my own mental state upon finishing, well, I’m not too changed. I didn’t expect to be, but I can’t believe how bad the Franconia Ridge made me feel about the rest of the experience. I shouldn’t let a shared beauty in NH get me down, those hikers have as much a right to be there as I do, and I should have foreseen a busy ridge midday on a clear and beautiful Saturday. I just love when I am in solitude, I like going my own way at my own pace and I like having just my dog around for company. I’ll take that last 10 miles to the bank and learn a lesson for next time.

As for finally completing the loop after failing twice before, I certainly feel glad, but I don’t feel changed. I think that’s appropriate. I (perhaps) jokingly described the Pemi Loop as my “ex boyfriend” of hikes because it was grand, impressive, and no matter how much I knew I was good enough and deserving, it never let me feel that way. Well, here I am proving to be good enough, and still wanting more. Much like my ex.. the first half of the Pemi loop experience was life changing and incredible but by the last stretch, I just wanted that shit to be over.

I took on a few new peaks in the process of this hike: Bondcliff (39), Bond (40), South Twin (41), & Garfield (42). I have 6 remaining peaks– West Bond, Galehead, North Twin (all within an arms reach from the Pemi loop), Cabot, Hale, and the gnarly Owl’s Head (in the center of the Pemi loop).

I try to learn a thing or two from every experience so here it is broken down:

• Figure out how to make Sky run faster or carry her shit for her
• Don’t watch scary movies before going alone in the woods… but perhaps watch scary movies before night trail races because I was ready to SPRINT up Bondcliff
• Drink more water early, chronically failing at that
• Be patient with strangers, you are the face of trail running and ultra running/hiking to some people so don’t be a dick even if you are tired and cranky and hungry and thirsty
• Have confidence, you know what you are capable of.

Ahh you’ve made it this far in the post? I’ll reward you with photos.

My uniform, plus a black Nike longsleeves

My sunrise photos from the East side of the loop

The dunk in the Pemi to conclude the day

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.

 

My First Ultra Marathon

A number of my friends are runners, athletes, triathlon competitors, etc. I’ve made my social life surrounded by mutual enjoyment in the sport or sports. Many of the people whose company I’ve enjoyed over the past 3 or 4 years have been really incredible athletes. In NJ, many of the people I was closest to in RVRR were indeed all ultra runners. They were (mostly) all very humble and inspiring, but I often did feel a bit left out. After the Philadelphia marathon I thought that I could certainly run an ultra… after all, I had decent experience running on trails and I enjoyed the experience. When I moved to Brighton, only 1 of my good friends up here is a seasoned ultra runner. She gave me confidence in myself and made me excited about it.. so a while back I signed up for my first 50k. The TARC (Trail Animals Running Club) Fall Classic. The race is a 10 mile loop that you run 3 times. It was yesterday, September 12, 2015, and it started at 6am in Carlisle, MA at Great Brook Farm State Park.

Well, I signed up and got excited and talked about it to my friends. That inspired my friend Seth to sign up as well! We both had plans of training all summer and being ready to share in this experience. Well, life happens. For me, I did the Mountain Goat series and felt wiped. I no longer enjoyed running, my road runs became infrequent and short.. maybe a 3 mile run 2-3 times a week. I did spend some trail time in the mountains but that was primarily a mix of running and hiking, not really a long training run. Seth fell out of his training plan, too. He decided early that he would not be racing and shifted his focus from the long run to increasing his speed on shorter races.

Well this past week, prior to the race, I was unsure if I would even go. I had the day free with the only conflict being that Liverpool was playing Manchester United at 12:30 on that day of race. I knew I could finish the distance, but I wasn’t sure if I could run the whole thing.

To make me even MORE unsure of my ability, Thursday before the race, I suffered a quad injury in a dumb intramural soccer game. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t lift my leg. Things seemed basically hopeless. My knee was whacked out also but no MCL tear. After some electrode therapy, I woke up Friday morning feeling INCREDIBLE. My quad was tight and clearly had a knot, but I could walk. Perhaps my race was back on? Later than night my co-workers and advisor were asking me about it.. I told them I was going to go and run the first loop (10 miles) and then try to run/walk the second loop to finish 20 miles. If I made it that far, I’d consider the day a success! Then I could probably watch the soccer game also.

So true to form, the night before the race, I couldn’t sleep at all. This happened before the Philadelphia Marathon as well. I was confused, too, because I didn’t have anxiety– I had 0 expectations for myself regarding this race. Still, no sleep. I watched my alarm go off at 4:40am and said “fuck it” and got dressed and headed out for my 40 min car drive to Carlisle.

It was DARK when I pulled up. Foggy and dark and kind of chilly. I kept my long sleeves on and checked in, bibbed up, tried to poop (couldn’t!!!) and then brought my drop back out for the pre-race meeting. The 50k and 50mile races started early and the half marathon and 10k races started at 8am. I got dressed and when the “gun” (the good ol’ TARC HOOOOWWWWLLLL) went off, I started running. I felt pretty good through the course. It was still a bit dark when we started but it was getting light quickly so I didn’t bring my headlamp. I didn’t need it. I ran well for the first 10 miles and when I hit the big “aid station” (the start/finish) I grabbed some chocolate covered pretzels, filled my pack bladder with half tailwind/half water, and then hit the trail! I went back out shortly after the 13.1 and 10k runners started so I saw many of them out there. I started by walking much of the first 2 miles of this lap. I wasn’t planning on racing the whole thing but waiting and seeing how it went. Many of the 10kers were passing me as they had just started and I got really really angry because some women said to me “are you going to walk every mile?” as she went out for her race. I don’t like to put anyone down who is out trail running any distance. I also don’t really know what her intentions were in saying that to me. My bib was yellow (aka 50k)… hers was green (aka 10k). I just laughed and said “yes, all 31 of them”. I walked a bit more and just mulled her comment over and regardless of what she meant, I got angry. I wanted to catch her and pass her and say “see ya later”.. so I started running again. I felt incredible. I started passing some slower 10kers and made it to that lady at the PERFECT moment— right where the course splits between the “ultra” course and the “13.1/10k” cut off. I saw her, she saw me, I turned left and she turned right and I smiled and said “Good luck”. I hope, if she was being mean earlier, that she interpreted it as “fuck you”.

Anyway, I felt amazing loop 2 as well and ran most of it. I kept leapfrogging the same 4 people and befriended a few. It was nice to have people to talk to here and there but also to know that I could be alone. I really enjoyed seeing the Aid station that was on the course. The animals volunteering at that point were super friendly and said I smiled more than anyone else coming through! They were such an important help. During loop two I ate so many oranges and fig newtons, it was nice to stop and walk a bit while eating but that section of trail through the bog is very runnable and so I ran most of it.

After loop 2, I was at mile 21. It was only 10:15am. I had time and the energy and the attitude so I changed my shirt, chugged a 5 hr energy, and started back out. This is where I had my race changing problem and solution. Remember how I didn’t poop before the race?!?!?!?!? Yeah. So I had to go off trail and do that and I probably wasted around 10 minutes total trying to figure out 1. if I had to do it or if I could continue, 2. how to do it 3. where to do it and 4. actually doing it. In those ten minutes, I could’ve placed much better than I did. Oh well!

The final loop was much like the 2nd loop was for me. I think I ran more and walked less than loop 2, but I did run slower. I felt really good and had a really strong and personally emotional finish. People asked me how I trained.. I told them I didn’t. I started tearing up at the end but that is sappy and I won’t get into it!

Final time: 6:36! 10th woman and 2nd in my age group. If I hadn’t pooped or walked so much in loop 2 I think I could’ve gone as high as 6th woman and 1st in age group (lost age group by a few minutes!) so I definitely have some lessons to take away from this experience. Overall, I am really happy with my performance and the fact that I am finally an ultra runner! I am also really impressed with the TARC race paradigm of no frills.

After the race, I changed quickly and drove back to Brighton to watch the second half of Liverpool with Mark at the bar. They lost but I couldn’t have cared less.

How am I feeling today– 2 days after the race? Absolutely amazing. I can’t wait to sign up for another! Fells winter ultra??? Maybe I’ll go for the 40!

Some points:

• I can cut out time at aid stations by thinking ahead of what I will want
• I can make sure to freaking poop before and also bring a napkin or something just in case (leaves are okay I guess!)
• Even though I ran the same loop 3x, each loop felt really different at a lot of points. This is probably due to what I notice but also the sun rise and fog lifting helped.
• I didn’t use headphones at all but I liked knowing I had brought them
• To pass time during lows, I would take whatever song was in my head and change the lyrics to fit either the race, how I was feeling, or what I wanted to eat/drink after. For this race, I changed the lyrics to Trap Queen and amused myself immensely.
• Maybe I can train more, knowing that I can actually finish it.

Anyway, signing off– this is Tess, Ultra Runner.