While training my hopes went from trying to do well to just trying to finish. Back to back long run weekends on the undulating Hidden Lakes trail in the Nicolet National Forest, was something very different for me. I had to learn to go slower, learn to walk powerfully up steep hills and not feel like a wus for it. I had to learn to run on legs that were still hurting from the days before. I had to learn to take in calories and water in adequate proportions. I had to deal with feet and ankles that were chronically sore and mosquitoes and deer flies that would not let up. I learned how to get up after tripping over roots and having my legs seize up in incredible pain. I would have dreams every night where I was running on trails and I would wake up to find my legs flinching as I dreamed of carefully but swiftly cruising down steep rocky hills. I had to learn about new levels of exhaustion and muscle soreness so powerful I could sometimes not fall asleep at night. I had to learn to get up and do it again. I had to learn to not think of a number (50!), but stay present with where I was. I had to learn a lot about who I am. I am glad I did.
For a newbie I had a lot of luck.
First off, I had a great crew (Yank!, Rebecca, & Leah) that really got me through. It's impossible to say how grateful I am for their help. Perhaps this is what I love most about ultras; with a crew you can see your friends over and over again, gaining inspiration, while in a road marathon you're likely to see them only at the finish line. And the fact that a crew actually participates and becomes part of the experience, I felt like we all ran the race together.
We got to the race area just before 5am for a 6am start. We had to get up at 3am that morning to drive to the start line in time. But from 3am on I was awake, was able to focus and feel comfortable. I wasn't as anal about my routine as I was in past races, but then again I only wanted to finish this one. We stayed in the car while we waited for it to get closer to start time. Yank, Rebecca, and Leah were all excited and amazed at what I was about to attempt. When we got to within a half hour of start time we made our way to the tent area. I looked around at all the healthy-looking people, with lean physiques and glowing faces and felt that slightly insecure feeling of whether I even belonged here.
The race director announced that there would be a "neutral start" meaning we would all stay in a pack until we crossed the road and got on the trail, which was great for me since I wasn't sure what my race strategy would be or how fast I should go out. Once on the trail I fell into being near the back of the front pack, a place I thought was rather comfortable as a beginner. It was the first time I had run with my headlamp (poor planning on my part) and it kept slipping off on the downhills. I had to hold onto it for most of the hills between the start and the first aid station where Yank quickly adjusted it. I was a little nervous of getting lost in the dark and so I told myself to run fast enough so that I could see the people in front of me who were hopefully going the right way. It turns out this is not the best strategy as early on the lead pack missed a turnoff and ran an extra mile. Fortunately I was further back and didn't get lost (this time). I had a good conversation with a guy named Cory and we were a little surprised when the lead folks swarmed passed us shortly after finding their way back on course. I doubted at the time that I'd see them again until the end. I also lost my shoe in the muddy trails at one point and almost tripped another runner as I tried to find it in the dark. The mud was annoying, but I liked the idea of getting dirty in a trail race.
After the first aid station I joined a small group of three other runners including Nikki Kimball, Don Demetriades, and Scott Breeden. I would end up running with these three for much of the rest of the race. Although I wasn't very talkative with the group, their conversations carried me through. I later thought it was fitting to see Nikki's North Face ad about striking up conversations with strangers.
As rookies, Scott and I were very fortunate to be running with two ultra veterans, and I learned so much from them about handling big hills, powerwalking, pacing, and distracting the mind when necessary. The miles flew by with them and I was at first pleasantly surprised that much of the course was flatter than what I had imagined. At times, even too flat - we were wishing for hills to change up the constant strain on the same muscles in our legs.
The trouble came a few miles after AS #3. We headed through a huge field filled with pheasant hunters. Towards the end of the field we saw the front pack stopped and looking confused as to where to go. Some folks decided to head back to the AS to get directions. Others split up. My pack decided on a trail that eventually led to a T in the road without any sign to tell us where to go. After spending a couple minutes debating, I remembered I had packed a map in my fanny pack, but it was grainy and of little help. We asked some hunters but they didn't have much of a clue. A couple runners decided to run down the highway we were near to scout things out. Offhand I mentioned to someone, "If we could only find McMiller," the name of the next AS. Suddenly there was a flash of realization among the group that McMiller was a gun range and who better than hunters to know where that would be. They pointed in the direction that the advanced scouts went and we happily made our way, only to find out that the other runners behind us somehow did not get lost and that we added (according to someone's GPS) about 3 miles to our route, sending Nikki from 1st place to 2nd place among women.
Needless to say this was disheartening, but I only had hoped to finish, so how could I complain? I told myself over and over again in my head that I couldn't let this get me down, that it was all part of the ultra experience. And so by the time I got to AS#4 (mi.21) I had a lot of adrenaline running through me (maybe it was all the gunshots from the nearby, crowded firing range?) and I went out quickly leaving my pack behind, which was in hindsight, a poor choice since I now faced the toughest and hilliest part of the course with the longest distance between stations (a little over seven miles). What's more is that this was an out and back section meaning that I had to face all those hills twice. I really could have used some conversation at this point, but I was all alone except for the beautiful woods around me.
When I got to AS#5 (mi. 28) the emotions started to come out. I felt empty and told my crew. I even started to tear up a little bit. I took in what calories I could manage and told them I really needed to slow down. I had meant to take a gel every 20 minutes, but had felt good so only took them at aid stations and now I knew I was starting to pay the price. At least I'd have Yank pacing me after the next station and so I went out with only that in mind, but those next 7 miles were hell. I passed some of the guys in front of me (including 50kers) who were just as shot - one of my only consolations was that I wasn't the only one feeling like shit. I told myself to go slow but I continued to pass runners and tried to only contemplate the next AS, where I'd take a longer rest, maybe even sit.
When I got the As#6 (mi 35) I was spent and incredibly happy to see my crew. I may have started to get a little delirious. I was a bit surprised to learn that at least one of the front pack runners dropped at this point, but then again I could totally understand since at this point it was just about being able to put one foot in front of the other no matter the pace. I told Yank the plan, she consented and after a big, tight hug from Becky we were off.
Conversation with Yank made things a bit easier. We would challenge each other a bit, naming what land feature to run to next before a large hill where we'd powerwalk. I didn't mind to much that my former pack members had passed us, although separately. The hills were hard for Yank and just having to get out of my own ego and help her along ended up helping me immensely. I somehow found energy out of nowhere and made a run/walk schedule for us to stick to. But after AS#7 she told me to just go on if she couldn't keep up and I reluctantly did so.
The distance between AS#7 & 8 was supposed to be 5.3 miles, but it seemed infinitely longer. Scott and I told each other that it couldn't be far, it had to be near that road traffic we could hear in the distance. He said he was shot and I gave what little encouragement I could offer as I pushed on, alone once more. Ever since AS#6 I felt a faint nausea and it only worsened until it was very intense by the time I finally made it to AS#8. I mentioned it to some aid workers who checked with a medic who recommended salt. I downed a couple saltine crackers grabbed some gum for good measure and was off.
I ended up spending a couple minutes longer at that aid station that I would have liked and Matt Lavine was able to take advantage. We chatted a bit after AS#8 (I asked him if he had ever done this before - he said yes and that this was the hardest one yet), but then he took off. I knew it was only about 4 miles and that I could crawl this if I had to, but I focused on simply keeping sight of Matt. He didn't stop to walk at all during that final stretch and so neither did I. I made that my goal so that I wouldn't have to think of how bad I felt. It turns out that after the race he told me that he only ran so hard because he thought we were in the same age group that he was determined to place in (he was in the one above me). In the final couple miles we passed by Don and Roxanne, and I was encouraged to know that Nikki persisted and would take first in the women's division. As I approached that last half mile I could hear the crowd and like magic it carried me in despite all my exhaustion. I even managed to pick up the pace a little and felt excitement and relief to see Rebecca and Leah near the finish line, looking like they wanted to run with me through the finish line. They didn't but they met me after I crossed at 7:48:43 with much love and TLC. I laid on the cold ground with a smile on my face and my legs strangely buzzing.
I was happy to learn that I had held on enough to finish 7th overall and 1st in my age group. I was just as happy to see Don and Scott cross within minutes after I did. We'd made it! I still had to wonder where we'd be if we hadn't run those extra 3 miles. But I loved to be able to say that I ran my first 50 mile ultra in 53 miles. Those extra three make a difference. Now I feel ready for a longer race!
With legs that were starting to cramp we waited for what seemed forever for the awards ceremony to begin. I received some nice schwag for winning the age group including a North Face technical T and hydration pack.
When Yank arrived back from where she had dropped out as a pacer she told me a funny story about how the aid workers thought that I was dropping out and started to report that on their radios. She tried to straighten them out and tell them that only she, as a pacer, was dropping out, but they still didn't understand. She started to get frustrated and they finally came to understand what she meant and didn't count me as a DNF. Whew!
