UROC 100k 2018

When I toed the line at the Start of the UROC 100k in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, I was as prepared as I could possibly be. I was injury free, training had gone well, and I had a phenomenal crew ready to handle me at every step of the way.

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My awesome crew. L to R: Running Guru Sherry, Rockin’ Robin, Crewmom Debbie

But one mile into the race, I already had doubts I’d make it. From the first step my legs felt heavy—as if I’d done a hard workout the day before instead of tapering for two weeks. And even more frustrating was the fact that my tried and true hydration pack was giving me trouble. Unlike any other time I’d used it, this time it was bouncing horrifically and every couple of steps the buckles came undone from the shearing effect. Five minutes into an ultra and everything seemed to be falling apart.

I walked for a moment to take a calming breath and readjust things. Stuffing my handheld in the back pocked seemed to balance the load and stop the bouncing and I was able to run again. I worried that the pause blew my chances of keeping up with the lead women and ruining my already long shot of getting on the podium. But sprinting to catch up with them was stupid so I focused on my original game plan–holding an easy effort to Aide Station#1.

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Starting the Race with Eric, who introduced me to the joys of ultra racing when he invited me to pace him at Burning River last year.

Originally the plan was to cruise through #1 and simply drop the handheld with my crew. Not wanting to disrupt the balance of the hydration pack, though, I decided to hang onto it instead and pressed on to Whetstone Ridge.

It was a decision I’m certain affected the entire outcome of my race.

Those who follow my Facebook page know that I’ve trained on this section of the trail several times—each time it gets a little easier. Race day was no exception. I kept a conservative pace on the more runable sections and took care on the steep descents. I’m sure the lead pack of runners flew over all this without batting an eye, but I knew this was not the place for me to push hard. My goal was to finish this whole 22 mile section in 5 hours or less and with plenty of energy to spare for the back half of the course. Now more than ever I needed to stick to my own plan and not worry about what everyone else was doing.

I reached Aide Station #2 feeling better than I ever had before and was greeted with a bonus of seeing my crew there. Originally no outside help was allowed to be here but a few days before the race the directors changed their minds. The weather forecast was for extreme heat and they thought access to crew here would help.  After all, this was an almost 12 mile stretch between aide stations!

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CrewMom Debbie trying to take off my Patagonia vest, convinced I was too hot. She gets full credit for a good effort.

I waved off their attempts to take my Patagonia Houdini vest ( I needed it to prevent neck chaffing from the hydration pack), refilled all three of my bottles, and headed out to put my training to the real test. This part was 3 miles of straight uphill leading to 6 miles of technical uphill. I’d learned that if I ran for 100 steps and walked for 25 I could power up the first massive hill without expending too much energy but hold a better pace overall than only walking. Sticking to my plan I made great time on this section and actually passed 8 people in the process.

But staying true to the theme of the race so far, there was a glitch. My right side water bottle was leaking this precious commodity all over my shirt. Unable to fix it easily, I drank from that one exclusively and more often than I would have normally so at least the water was in my body and not the ground. As a result, that bottle was empty way too early. With over 8 miles of intense climbing and technical trail to go and the temperatures rising drastically, I was in danger of blowing my entire race in the first miles…again! I’d said all along that this stretch of the race was not where anyone would win it, but it’s where we could all lose it. I felt like I was about to lose it because of a malfunctioning bottle.

But because of my glitch in the first miles, I hadn’t tossed my handheld and now had an extra 18oz of fluid in my back pocket. I rationed my intake until I arrived at the Aide Station #3—dry, but not so horribly dehydrated that I couldn’t bounce back. My crew pounced on me. While one of them sponged me off with cold water, another took off my pack and attached my pre-loaded waist pack, while yet another stuffed chocolate in my mouth. I drank while they worked, grabbed another peanut butter sandwich, then headed out again.

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These awesome ladies got many compliments for how efficient and prepared they were as a Crew. They got me in and out as fast as possible while still making sure I was all good to go.

 

These next 5 miles were comparatively easy, even considering that the route gave us another mental sucker punch by bringing us within feet of the Finish line then turning away back into the woods. With fluids coursing through my blood again, and my fuel kicking in, I cruised along this section of gravel and grass road leading to Aide Station 4 at Skylark Pond. Sherry and Robin met me here, filled my bottles with cold water from our own supply  and quickly sent me back out.

I was halfway through the race and feeling pretty good. I had no idea what place I was in, (I didn’t want to know), but had the general idea that I was in my typical spot in these races—behind the fast runners and ahead of the mid pack runners. It’s a deadman’s territory that I’m familiar with. But at this point I also started to see the first 50k runners heading back to Skylark for their finish. Getting and giving cheers along this section of the Blue Ridge Parkway, with all its glorious views and wildlife, was a huge mental boost. I turned onto the rugged jeep road for the climb to Aide Station #5 eager to refill my bottles and head right back out for the 2 mile stretch to the next Crew location.

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Eating and drinking on the run has always been a challenge for me, but after a lot of trial and error and practice, I’ve learned a good PB&J sandwich is like rocket fuel for me.

The course had us running variations of road for the past nine miles. Now we were on singletrack again and I knew we’d not see road again for quite some time. While the trail is kinder to my body, it also requires a lot more mental effort as every step needed to be planned carefully, and naturally had a greater degree of difficulty in the climbs and descents. Along this trail I came across a mountain biker. We leapfrogged as we each struggled to navigate across the mini boulder fields on the trail. He cheered me on when we finally parted ways and I started to think that I’d made a mistake in choosing not to have a pacer. The extra energy from another person would be great right around now.

But in order to be eligible for prizes, we couldn’t use pacers. Since I was right on the bubble of earning a top spot, I’d long ago decided to do this with Crew only.

I met them at Aide Station #6 and had the wonderful experience of having them stuff a popsicle in my mouth. Best. Popsicle. EVER. While I drank the delicious cold sugar, the girls swapped my hydration belt for my pack with leaky water bottle fixed. I left there mourning the fact that the Aide Station had already run out of oranges (“Don’t worry,” said Sherry, “We’ll get you some.”), but high on popsicle sugar and ready to tackle the Slacks Trail loop.

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The first three miles are wonderful—runable and scenic. This was my third time on this loop, but it was my first time with all the previous miles under my belt. The downhills made my legs, which never felt good the entire day, feel even worse. Instead of tackling this decline and trying to bank a little time, I had to be content with an even pace and constant forward progress—even that felt incredibly difficult at times.

The trail crosses a waterfall and marks the start of the hard part. The final two miles of this loop are all uphill, some sections so steep I had to hold onto trees to keep from sliding back down again. I had to stop several times to get my heartrate down, slow my breathing, rehydrate, and mentally keep it together in order to keep charging ahead. At last I crossed the Blue Ridge Parkway and made it back to Aide Station #6 which was now #7.

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Smiling to hide the pain!

According to plan, I took longer here. I knew the next section was incredibly difficult and very far away from the next Aide Station. Somehow an entire Tupperware bin full of sliced oranges arrived in front of me. I had no idea how they appeared and was too mentally tired to ask, but it was something I thought about for a long time after leaving here. In between heavenly orange slices I was handed another popsicle.  New bags of peanut butter jelly sandwiches were tucked into my pocket; a frozen chocolate bar in another. When I mentioned my aching legs, Sherry dove in and started massaging them. Seeing this, a young man generously offered his runner’s roller stick. As Sherry worked my thighs and hamstrings with the roller, I joked with the man that I felt like we were now intimately connected and I should buy him dinner or something.

Feeling like a new person and cheered on by all the other friends and families of other runners, I headed back to the trails for the final big push of the course.

My legs turned over nicely, my heartrate was holding steady, my internal dialogue was still positive, and I hadn’t fallen yet! I knew this section was very technical and could be a mental drain, so I smiled as much as I could, kept my feet light and floating over the billions of rocks as quickly as possible, and paced myself evenly. I held steady for the first ¾ of the route, but as the miles ticked by, the inclines resumed, and the next aide station seemed to never get closer, every step became harder. Physical and mental fatigue started to kick in and frustration at my slow time grew. I had outside goals of finishing with a time that started with a 13. It was still a possibility, but every time I had to stop and walk I felt that slip further from my fingers.

After what seemed like way too far, I finally broke through to the next aide station. Once again my awesome Crew was there, ready to take care of me both physically and mentally. My family was there too, visible but in the background to give Robin and Sherry room to do their thing. I’d dreamed about this Aide Station for a while. This was the final place to see my Crew. This was the start of the end. And best of all, this was where I picked up my music!

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Having aide stations so far apart took its toll on me. But Sherry is ready with supplies and mental support to get me back out for the final leg of the journey.

After getting washed off, lubed up, fed, watered, drank some coke, and handed my trekking poles, Robin put my earbuds in—music already playing. Instantly my body perked up. My knees started moving to the beat, and I trotted away from there blissfully surrounded by the tunes I’d trained with.

With poles in hand, I actually made great time for the first couple of miles. But the trail turned from jeep road, to wild trail, to mere vague space between trees. I was thankful not to be trying to thread my way though that nonsense at night but was plenty irritated with it as it was. Then came the water crossings. I knew they were coming and had actually looked forward to cooling off my feet. I’d even picked up a sponge at the last aide station so I could wet it in the creek and keep cool every chance I could.

But the climbs out of the water were insane. 8 foot mud banks with little to hold onto, my tired legs and brain had many unkind things to say about the designers of this course. For some, this kind of section is their dream trail. Not for me. I like to run trails…not do obstacle course racing. And for better or worse I knew there was another trail that ran parallel to this one that was much more runner friendly—especially for a section many athletes would be doing at night.

I plugged along until I came to the switchbacks. Thanks to the Bel Monte 50k, I knew this was coming and I knew it would be hard. After that race I’d changed my strength training program and how I trained hills. I’d even run up and down the notorious Priest mountain many times to prepare for this specific two mile stretch of course.

And it was still horrible.

Finally I broke through the top and scuffed my way to the final Aide Station—their Octoberfest music luring me through the woods. All hands on deck when I came in and they filled my water, gave me coke (with ice!!), encouragement, then kicked me out.

Last 4.5 miles. I was thrilled! My Garmin’s battery died miles ago so I had no idea how my time was looking. I knew I would finish with a time more than 13, but now I was afraid I wouldn’t even make my 15 hour goal. I went back to my roots and started my interval rhythm of running 100 steps and power hiking 25. The first 2 miles away from Octoberfest were back down the dirt jeep road we came up hours before. When that spilled onto the Blue Ridge Parkway I felt fully recovered from the previous uphill section and knew I could keep up my intervals and maybe even make up some time.

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Much further along in miles, but in far better spirits than when I arrived at AS #8!

At a picnic table on the side of the road, I saw my Crew again—with the same man who offered me his roller earlier (his runner was a little way behind me and our crews ended up spending the whole day together). We all knew they couldn’t render aide, but they took pictures, cheered, and screamed in excitement that we were all so very close to the Finish. A few minutes later they drove past me—honking the horn and cheering some more.

Just before I turned off the Blue Ridge Parkway and onto the final grass road into Skylark, I looked to my right and saw the most spectacular sunset I’ve ever seen. Bright red, bordered by the amazing mountains, I decided to race the sun to the Finish.

 

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Gorgeous sunset. Smoke from the forest fire that burned all weekend can be seen here. We could smell it several times during the race, but Forest Service kept us all safe. Photo by: UROC

As if the terrain and the heat weren’t hard enough on us runners, the Finish Line was at the top of a hill. And to get to that hill you had to climb a hill. I did my best to hold onto my intervals, not knowing how close I was to getting or missing that elusive black sub-15 buckle, but the grade was steep and picking up the legs required a huge effort. Then, halfway up this hill and a short burst to the Finish, I met Sherry. She had my American Flag unfurled and ready to go (after receiving a blessing to do so from the Race Director. She didn’t want anything to even remotely look like I was getting aide outside the legal stations). The sun dipped for the last time behind the mountain behind her and I finally let myself believe I was really going to do this! I was actually going to finish a 100k race!

She beat me up that hill, taking pictures and cheering me along until I made the last turn to the lawn with the Finish Line.

The previous finishers, all incredible athletes with amazing resumes and finishes and big names in the trail world, were gathered in preparation for the awards ceremony. With the last rays of sunlight streaming behind them, I saw their shadowy figures applauding my approach to the Finish Line. I raised Old Glory as high as I could to the end.

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Utterly exhausted

I made it.

With a final official time of 14:38, I received the coveted black buckle, finishing as the 6th female across the line and 1st place in the Masters category. I’d unknowingly secured my finish place miles and miles ago when I passed those 8 people leaving Aide Station #2—yeah for hill training!

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Exhausted but ecstatic! L to R: Sherry, Erin, Robin. Photo by Francesca

 

 

Sherry and Robin and I embraced and celebrated all the work it took to get me to this point and I probably would have cried if I hadn’t been so tired! They whisked me away to a private corner of the lawn and helped me change and wash off the first layer of sweat and dirt before attending the awards ceremony where I received my very first ever ‘Happy Gilmore’ check for my Masters Finish.

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It wasn’t the net time I hoped for, but I was absolutely thrilled with the final outcome–especially considering my earlier glitches and the challenges all the athletes faced out there. The heat was extreme, which I love, but most don’t. Aide stations ran out of water and other supplies early on. Without enough hydration, the heat affected runners to varying degrees of severity. This year had a nearly 50% drop rate with most of those directly related to heat/hydration issues. One runner told me the second aide station ran out of water before half the field even made it there! Another runner explained that he’d only been allowed to fill one of his water bottles. That decision to hold onto my handheld at the very first aide station probably saved my entire race.

Thankfully the trail community is awesome. Crews were sharing supplies with one another–the Tupperware of orange slices that suddenly appeared for me at Aide Station #7 came from another crew who could appreciate my sadness that they’d run out of oranges right before I got there. Friends, family, and crew all cheered and encouraged and helped everyone else’s runners. I’m so thankful that Robin and Sherry got to see first-hand just how amazing and humane the trail running community is!

Later that night we drove down the Blue Ridge Parkway to aide station 9 to pick up my friend Eric. Along the way we passed several racers pushing hard to make the final cutoff. We honked and cheered and hopefully gave them a boost. My utmost respect to those who never quit and worked so hard, for so long, and kept pushing it as long as possible.

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We had to have some fun with Eric’s ironic choice of tee shirts for the weekend!

 

Prepping and training for this race was a long process but it paid off in the end. After all my recon runs on as much of the course as possible, I was able to give my Crew a specific list of what I needed/wanted at each aide station and my best guess of how long each section would take. We’d packed all my own supplies to be as self sufficient as possible and with few exceptions I ended up sticking to the plan.

It’s a very technical course and I’m still learning to embrace this kind of race, but UROC was a fascinating way to dip my toe into this side of trail racing. Sharing the trails and getting verbal support from the elites was a thrill for sure! I have this race in pencil for next year, but first I need to savor the fact that the hard work I put into prepping for UROC paid off. Time to celebrate, then get back to work to finish preparing for EagleUp Ultra next month!

 

UROC swag

 

 

 

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Bull Run 50 Miler

When I registered for Bull Run 50 Miler, my first race at that distance, I knew I’d need someone to come with me primarily to help me after the race and drive home. I asked my friends and super-awesome runners Michelle and Vicki to come be my brain post race. They said yes instantly, despite having never been to a trail race or an ultra. Little did we all know how critical their presence would be on race day!

The weekend started with a humorous drive to the race site for packet pickup and athlete briefing. Once checked in we had a great chat with former race director Bob and gained some valuable insight into the course itself. When the athlete meeting still hadn’t started 40 minutes after it was supposed to, we decided to leave—we still needed to get dinner, check in at the hotel, and get everything finalized for the morning. A fellow racer who had done this a handful of times before gave us the low down on logistics (follow the blue, don’t cross the red, stay on the trail, etc) and we headed out.

BRR pre race 1

At this point I was still very calm. The weather, which had looked absolutely hideous earlier in the week, looked much more promising now and while some predictions still called for some rain early on and snow in the afternoon, the amounts and duration were much better. Since Michelle and Vicki were going to be there and were determined to be as helpful as possible at every aide station they were were allowed to go to, we discussed what I might need at which point in the race, how best to ‘handle’ me at the stations, and the importance of kicking me out to keep pressing on to the Finish. We settled in for sleep and braced for whatever the morning would bring.

The morning brought dry ground, dry sky, and no rain. The temperature was low 40s which was higher than originally called for, and it looked like this would be the perfect weather for a long haul race. We arrived at the race site, found our parking place (thanks to the most upbeat, well organized group of parking volunteers ever!) and finished getting ready for the run. With final words from Quatro, the current race director, we set off.

Having looked up this trail on AllTrails, I knew that this part of the course would be fairly flat, and thanks to the heads up from other runners, I knew this was a challenging part of the course if only because it was too easy to start too fast and blow the rest of the race. Thanks to the ~1 mile loop around the parking lot at the beginning we were spread out by the time we hit the single track and I settled in behind runners going my pace or slightly slower. This section of the course is gorgeous and very runnable. The well groomed trails  brought us down to the river, across creeks (yeah for those bridges and stepping stones that meant my feet never got wet!), and around historical battle ramparts.

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Not quite the elevation changes I’ve trained for for UROC, but enough to keep the legs fired up!

Vicki and Michelle met me at the first aide station and cheered me on enthusiastically as I pressed on. From that aide station, the course makes a lollipop. Where the stick of the lollipop meets the loop, it wasn’t clear which way to go. Several of us went Left when we should have gone Right. We ended up doing the exact same course (and mileage and terrain) as everyone else, and the marshalls told us to just keep going. For better or worse it gave me the chance to see where the other women in the field were.

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Photo By: JKS Imagery. My thanks to them! He was cheering on his wife and graciously took and shared pictures he grabbed while waiting.

I was currently first place female. But judging by how close the others were and being able to tell that this was *not* their first rodeo, I knew it would be practically impossible to hold first the whole way. While it would have been a real hoot to ‘win’ my first 50 miler, I was also mindful of the fact that this was a training run and to push hard to place a certain way could derail my UROC goals next month. Now more than ever I needed to stay in my brain and run my race my way today.

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Returning back to Centerville Aide Station

We came back through that first aide station, I ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich square, drank well while the course was still flat, and gathered more cheers from Vicki and Michelle as we passed back through the Start/Finish/Hemlock aide station at mile 16. I felt great. I felt slow. I felt on top of my nutrition and hydration plan and was on track to meet my goal—make the first 26 feel like a warmup.

This section of the course was slightly more technical but mostly runnable and I arrived at the Marina aide station (mile 21 feeling great). Here was the first place I stopped. As soon as I arrived Vicki told me to open my mouth, which I did without thinking, and she shoved a piece of chocolate in. Best piece of chocolate ever! While I stood there chewing and breathing, she and Michelle refilled my water bottles, crammed a new bag of PBJ sandwiches in my pocket, then shoved me out of the station and on my merry way. Nascar pit crew in the making!

BRR Fountainhead Crew
Me realizing something was just put in my mouth, but not yet understanding it was wonderful chocolate!

This section from the Marina to Fountainhead was tough if only because it was so runnable. The trails were nearly free of roots or rocks, had only a few steep climbs, and gave me no excuse to walk. I was thankful for the chance to zone out and simply run, but the small rolling hills were tricky—too small to walk up, but steep enough to change my breathing. I battled between trying to bank time and trying not to burn up too much energy here. I arrived at Fountainhead happy to be done with that section and ready to tackle the infamous Do Loop.

BRR Fountainhead 1

I should not have been so eager.

I’d raced the Do Loop at the Women’s Half Marathon held in this same park back in September. I remember the steeper, long climbs and was actually looking forward to a change in terrain. But back in the summer the trail was easy to see and there were plenty of other runners out there to follow. This race day was very different. Trail markers were few and far between and the trail itself was smothered and covered with leaves. It was difficult to see where to go. This loop is famous for ‘trapping’ people in an endless loop and as my legs grew tired and the trail became harder and harder to see, I started to fear I’d be one of those people. The trees were marked with horseshoe shaped paint, but the blue ribbons marking the course for this specific race seemed incredibly far apart. I was in a constant state of doubt about if I was on the right course or not.

At last I made it out of there but was mentally fatigued at this point. As I exited the loop I saw another woman entering it. I knew there were 2-3 girls between the two of us so I knew it was only a matter of time before I was caught. The question was when…and by how many.

BRR Fountainhead post Do Loop
Feeling a little defeated but Michelle wouldn’t let me stay that way for long!

I finally returned to Fountainhead where my NASCAR pit crew once again changed my tires, refilled my tank, washed my windshield, told me I looked great, and shoved me back on the trail. Here we repeated our steps through the well groomed, rolling hills path. This time there was no need to rein in my pace. I ran every possible runnable section as hard as I could and forced myself to push through the ache building in my thighs and that pinching pain under my big toe that I was certain was a blood blister forming.

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Photo by: Frank Probst. Bless him, he was out there all day in the cold getting amazing pictures of us crazy runners!

At mile 39.9 I entered an aide station about 30 seconds before the next woman arrived. I grabbed what I needed then headed back out, wondering if there was any possible chance she was going to drop at that aide station! But she looked like she was just warming up and I knew it was only a matter of time. At mile 41, she passed me. She had the energy to chat a bit. I did not. She told me she’d just completed a 50k race two weekends before and her legs felt tired. Then she flew past me as if carried by the wind. I didn’t know whether to hate her or kneel before her chanting ‘we’re not worthy, we’re not worthy’!

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Speedy First Place Female and genuinely sweet, Anna Piskorska

I averaged an 11:30 pace from Fountainhead back to Marina aide station and was thrilled with that. But now everything hurt. My legs struggled to keep turning over. Downhills were painful. Uphills were painful. Running flat was painful. Vicki and Michelle did their best to fire me up at this last aide station and knowing that the next time I saw them would be at the Finish Line was a nice boost.

Still….it hurt.

BRR Frank Probst Marina
Photo by: Frank Probst, finisher of all 24 prior Bull Run 50s. This was his first year not racing it.

 

The day before I’d heard the story of a man who ended up taking a wrong turn and instead of heading back to the Finish ended up repeating the front portion of the race. I did NOT want that to be me. My body was not going to handle any extra mileage today. I looked for every blue ribbon and steered well clear of the red. But when the course brought us back to the river and over rocks that looked painfully familiar, I began to wonder if I too made a course error and was heading the wrong way. Yes, these were the blue ribbons, but are the blue ribbons for NOW, or are they still up from the first time we headed out? Just like on the Do Loop, doubt and fear filled my brain and drained me mentally. At last I passed the sign that said “One Mile To Go” and instantly felt lighter.

After one long final climb, Vicki and Michelle met me with Old Glory and I dug deep to push hard to the finish. My time goal was to finish under 9 hours. I ‘sprinted’ to the finish with a stop time of 8:58. The third place female came screaming through the finish line a mere three minutes later. Only about 15 minutes separated the top three female finishers!

BRR Flag Finish 2

As if Vicki and Michelle hadn’t already been a super star crew, they kicked into high gear at the Finish. I’d warned them that I was probably going to be mental moosh at this point and would rely entirely on them to guide me through my recovery needs. They took it to a whole new level. I’m not entirely sure how it all happened, but before I knew it I was drinking my chocolate milk, wrapped in a warm blanket, with shoes and socks being pulled off my feet and slipped into more comfortable attire. I stank to high heaven and these two friends didn’t bat an eye!

BRR Finish Post Race

Thankfully awards were only a few short minutes later. I was already freezing cold and teeth chattering so shortly after receiving my water bottle for finishing as First Masters Female, we trudged up the hill (another hill?!!!) to take the best shower of my life. Once again my crew rocked it! I was standing under hot water, not remembering exactly how I got there, while the two of them gathered all that sweaty stinky gear and made sure I left nothing behind. When I finally dragged myself away from the steam (mostly because I simply couldn’t stand any more!) all my clothes were laid out ready for me to pile on. They even found a chair for me to collapse into. I sat there semi-savoring how exhausted my body felt while Vicki grabbed a brush and did my hair, and Michelle dried my feet and helped me get compression socks on.

You reach a whole new level of friendship when you’re willing to dry a runner’s fugly feet!

There are those in the ultra community who consider using a crew to be a form of cheating. I am not one of those people. If a race allows it, I see no reason not to take advantage of that. I am absolutely certain that having them at so many points along the race was critical to my finishing the way I did. Knowing it was only ‘X’ number of miles before I heard Vicki’s screams and encouragement, and having Michelle stuff more chocolate in my mouth and kick me down the path, made those painful miles bearable. And having them take charge at the finish allowed me to just enjoy the accomplishment and turn off my already tired brain.

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Michelle and Vicki, the Superstar Crew

On the way home they chatted about all the incredible people they met along the way, their awe of the fantastically strong and polite athletes out there, and how well run the entire race was. From all the goodies and helpful volunteers at each aide station right down to the meticulous (and stunningly accurate) Crew Directions to get from one place to the next, they were beyond impressed. I’m forever thankful to all who put on this race for showing my road running friends just how awesome trail and ultra running is!

My first 50 felt more painful than I would have thought. I’ve looked back on the race and feel like I ran it the best way possible. My hydration and nutrition was better than it ever has been on a long run, I held my pace well even when I didn’t want to, and I managed to charge up the steeper hills with a good march instead of an amble. I simply fatigued at the end and the mental struggles from being unsure if I was on course or not wore me down. There were more runnable sections on this course than I was prepared for and in the end my running muscles just wore out. Good to know for future and upcoming ultras.

UROC 100k is in a month and while the terrain and race plan will be vastly different from this, I learned so much at the Bull Run 50 that I hope will help me press on to the best possible finish for me there…including how awesome having chocolate shoved into your mouth is!

 

Final Stats:

Time–8:58:01

2nd Female/ 59

20th Overall/233

 

To follow my daily journey as I train for my first 50 miler, 100k, 24 hour race, and 100 mile race, join me on my Facebook Page, Flag Lady Running.

Bel Monte 50k

The day I was supposed to do my 31 mile training run the Northeast was hit by a winter ‘Wind Bomb’ and heading to the mountains was simply not safe. I know I’m far over on the crazy scale, but 80mph wind gusts and giant oak trees being uprooted is beyond even my limits!

Luckily the BelMonte Races were the next weekend and they still had openings. Since their course shares a lot of the back 50k of my upcoming UROC 100k, I figured that was my best option to get in my long run safely, run with aide and companionship, recon the course, and score some bling in the process–because whenever you can bling you should.

BelMonte Start
At the Start Line with Jamie and Omar, fellow Team RWB runners. I have my hydration pack on under my sweatshirt…or I’m pregnant with puppies. Hard to tell from this shot!

BelMonte offered a 25k option, a 50k option, and a 50 miler. We all started at 6a from the Royal Oaks campgrounds, but the two mile stretch on the Blue Ridge Parkway helped the ~300 runners spread out. My plan was to try to stay near the front of the pack so that when we hit the single track of White Rock Falls I was in good position. The tricky part was to not get swept up with the 25kers at the front since they would be able to push the pace harder than I wanted to. In the end, my first three miles averaged an 8min mile. Possibly too fast but it was mostly downhill and it did put me in a good pocket of runners when we hit the trail.

White Rock Falls is gorgeous. The trail is just what I expected–well maintained with lots of roots and rocks, short but steep climbs, and one water crossing that was easy to do without getting wet. After the road start, this trail put my mind at ease and I let nature relax my mind. With one final climb, we crossed the Blue Ridge Parkway to hit aide station #1.

Sort of.

This aide station, and the few that followed, were lackluster compared to all the other trail runs I’ve done. This particular aide station was water only (as advertised, so no surprises there), but thankfully there was a swarm of cars and families there to cheer us all on. Their presence helped mentally boost us as we slipped over the side of the parking lot and onto Slacks Trail.

Slacks Trail

Mostly downhill at this point, these trails were technical, laced with snow, rock infested, and offered stunning scenery. I tried to look up and enjoy the view, but any time I took my eyes off the trail I risked tripping over one of the multitude of mini-boulders and sharp rocks. At this point I was first place female, but I knew it was only a matter of time before that changed. I wasn’t going all-out on this course. It was a training run and  CrewMom Debbie had given me strict instructions not to race it. And a wise person *always* listens to CrewMom. But I was also interested to see how long I could hold this position while still running ‘my race’.

After a second aide station manned by two or three people, and no markings to tell us where the trail went from there (something I noticed they fixed by the time I came back through hours later), we headed downhill.

And I mean DOWN. HILL.

2 or so miles of straight down. Switch back after switchback where I wanted to run but also had to be careful because it was so steep that it would have been easy to get out of control and fall for days. There was a fine line between banking time on this hill, and destroying my quads for the rest of the day. I tried to find the happy medium. Halfway down this steep descent the faster 25kers were headed back up. Their turnaround was at the bottom of this mountain so I got a chance to see the super fast runners tackling this incredible climb–and was reminded that in a few hours I’d be doing that too. It was a sobering thought.

With even fewer runners ahead of me now, the 50k course continued on from the bottom of the steep descent with another 5 miles of more gradual downhill. This old jeep trail was very runable, followed a pretty stream, and thankfully only had a few blow downs from the storm the week before. The handful of stream crossings weren’t too bad and I only got my foot a little wet on one of them. The scenery was lacking, however, so after a few miles of little to see and no other person out there, it became a little mind numbing. I pushed the legs slightly, knowing this was the easiest part of the course, terrain wise, and held an average 8 min pace.

In hindsight I should have fueled and hydrated better on this section. Logistics was a major reason why I didn’t. For me to get to my water bottles, I had to take off my gloves (which are really $1 wool socks from Walmart) and release the tab on my hydration vest to pull the bottles out. To put them back I have to manipulate the bottles back in, cinch up the tab, then put my gloves back on. This stretch was not technical and I was making decent time without much effort. I didn’t want to break my rhythm just to take a drink and risk tripping while dealing with the bottles. I have a new hydration pack that shouldn’t require so much work and I’ll likely end up using that at UROC instead, but it arrived only the day before this race and was too new for me to use for this long a distance.

At last I reached the next aide station. Here were more people to cheer and the enthusiasm after the long quiet stretch I just came from was much needed. Turning onto Coal Road I finally got a glimpse of the runners ahead of me. One was the leader of the 50 miler race. He looked relaxed, steady, and strong.

Coal Road was a disappointment after the jeep trail. Little scenery, not quite trail, and lots of hills made this a mentally difficult stretch. Although only a couple of miles long, it felt like an eternity and I was thrilled to see the next aide station marking the 50k turnaround.

I was also scared.

It was now time to retrace our steps. All of them. And I knew this was going to be almost entirely uphill from now on. My pace was going to drop and I only hoped that in the end, my time averaged out to be fairly decent.

The return trip was agony. The ~6% incline was unrelenting. A stitch settled in my right side and grew more and more painful with each step. My low back tightened and it felt like I’d been stabbed. A blister began to throb and ache in my right big toe. My hamstrings started to yell at me, and mentally I was having a hard time knowing that I was going to have to do this entire course all over again. It was hard to catch my breath, and my rhythm was all off. Compared to the way out, I felt like I was running in molasses and dreaded the fact that I had over 17 miles of running to go.

I stopped often. I tried to stretch. I tried to catch my breath, but I was deep in the hurt locker.

When I arrived at the turnaround marker for the 25kers, I knew the hardest part was coming up. I grabbed two sticks to act as trekking poles and started hiking. I’ve done lots of hill training, I’ve done lots of hiking, but based on how I performed on that mountain, you’d never know it. I was passed twice and was now second place female. The woman who passed me was powering up the incline as if she was strolling down the beach. I followed her for a short stretch but she was soon out of sight.

Bel Monte Hill up
Up we go…and this isn’t the steepest part!

When I thought the incline couldn’t get any worse, it did. By the time I reached the aide station (our second visit to aide station #2) I didn’t think my legs could take me one more step. Just when an external energy boost was needed most, there wasn’t one. Two very mellow people manned the aide station now and the reception was muted at best. One tried to tell me I was first place female–it hadn’t even registered that another female had come through only five minutes before.

Knowing I needed fuel I actually paused to peruse the offerings here. The boiled potatoes with salt sounded good, but they had a thin layer of ice on them. The half bananas were ice blocks as well. I grabbed a handful of frozen gummy bears and left the dreary spot.

BelMonte Pace and Ele
Pace with Elevation overlay. Lotta white in the pace on that massive incline at mile 26!

At last the terrain leveled out to the point where I could start running again. It was painful, but the more I ran the better I felt. My saving grace was the fact that with no way to go further up, I was now running downhill again. Though the trail was the same boulder infested, technical ridge from before I could actually move faster than a walk. My stitch was gone. My breathing eased. My back stopped hurting as much, and I felt like I was back on track.

My pace picked up, just in time for my luck to run out and trip over one of the rocks. Thankfully I was going downhill so I had some air time to plan my landing. For the first time ever, I rolled out of the fall and was back on my feet before I fully comprehended that I’d fallen at all. I kept running, brushing off the leaves and dirt, and saying a little prayer of thanks that I hadn’t landed on one of the sharper rocks that littered the trail.

I passed one of the men I’d leapfrogged with almost the entire time. He’d looked so steady and strong all along, I was surprised to see him walking on a downhill. I asked how he was and he said his leg was giving him trouble. After making sure he was okay to keep going, I headed off and made a mental note to tell the people at the next aide station to look out for him. A few hikers making their way up Slacks Trail kindly stepped aside to let me through and cheered on my efforts. Amazing how much of a boost a few kind words from strangers can give! I felt like a whole new person now–proving the Ultra adage that however you’re feeling now, give it a mile. You’ll feel different–for better or worse. In my case, it was for the better.

I emerged from Slacks Trail to aide station #1 at a scenic view pulloff on the Blue Ridge Parkway. I knew this was going to be a water only station, but I had no idea it would be completely unmanned. There was no one here to tell about the man I passed. Had there been a real emergency out on those trails, how could we possibly relay that in time to be of any help? Cell signal was sketchy at best. Once again I said a prayer of thanks that my fall wasn’t any worse because now I knew no help would have been available if I was seriously injured.

Though my water bottles were running low I was too scared to refill here. These water containers hadn’t been monitored for who knows how long. I’m just enough of a cynic to have concerns that some punk put something nasty in them. With five miles to the finish, I decided to just ration my water intake and keep going.

Back on White Rock Falls I felt my legs churning over nicely and enjoyed the gorgeous views again. I knew we were supposed to look for a secret password out here but my brain was getting tired and I was afraid I’d not see the sign or be able to remember it. I clambered over some of the larger rocks and hoped the race director would know to put the sign in a place where we’d be looking up and not someplace we would be trying desperately to avoid stumbling over boulders.

She did. She found a flat spot right between sections littered with rocks, and the password matched its location. The irony made me laugh in spite of my fatigue.

I felt good, but my legs were tired. Every cell in my body was tired. The long uphill coming back took everything out of me and I was ready to be done. Just after the final water crossing, the girl behind me passed and kept on flying down the trail. I glanced at my watch. Mile 31. Had it not been for the extra 4 miles tacked on to this course, we could have had quite a 50k Finish Line moment there, but alas, there was more to come.

I eased up considerably. My training run was for 31 miles and I still had many weeks to go before my ‘A’ races. I had no desire to ‘leave it all out there’ this time and push hard to the finish. I wanted to train my tired legs and mind to push through, but I couldn’t afford to go into the red and need days and days to recover either. I kept moving forward, walking often, and met the sight of the Blue Ridge Parkway with a mixture of happiness and dread.

Only 2 miles to go. This was great! But a lot of it was uphill and it was all pavement. Since I no longer needed to plan each and every footfall, I took the time to look up. I kept an eye out for deer or other wildlife as I plodded along. I scanned the sky for birds and the mountainside for fallen trees. I passed a couple of hikers, and one very cheerful and encouraging woman finishing up her 25k. Second place female was in eyesight for now, and there was no one behind me.

I started a walk-run method with 2 minutes walking and 3 running. It was exhausting, but I averaged a 9 minute pace here and finally made it to the finish.

BelMonte Map

There was no sprint to the end. I jogged my way down the path and tried not to crash on the stairs (finish line on a set of stairs?! They needed an air mattress at the bottom to cushion our falls!). The race director handed me my medal and congratulated me on third place female finish, then encouraged me to refuel, warm up by the bonfire, and join in the awards ceremony in 30 minutes.

BelMonte Fire

I chatted briefly with the second place finisher and looked for first place but she had already left the race. I was only 14 minutes behind her. She must have had important plans, which might explain her fast pace!

BelMonte Awards
Myself and Second Place Female, Deanna Nappi

I changed and stayed by the fire until the awards, then I too packed up and started the trek home. My legs were on fire. My whole body shook. That was the hardest course, mentally and physically, that I’ve done. Sadly, much of that will be seen again in my upcoming UROC  race, so I’ll take these next couple of weeks to sort through the failures and success of this race and try to better prepare for the 100k.

But for now, I need to eat all the eats, drink all the drinks, and enjoy a day off.

BelMonte Milkshake
The traditional post-race milkshake!

To follow my daily journey as I train for my first 50 miler, 100k, 24 hour race, and 100 mile race, join me on my Facebook Page, Flag Lady Running.

2018 Colonial Half Marathon

Yesterday’s Colonial Half Marathon in Williamsburg VA was the exact opposite of my previous experience here in 2005. Then it was my very first race longer than a 5k–I thought a longest run of 8 miles was enough training, didn’t know that wearing shorts in 30 degree weather was a bad idea, and was still running in tennis shoes bought off the rack at Walmart.

My how times change.

This year the weather was warm, my shoes were appropriate to my needs (thank you Lucky Road!), I had my trusty American Flag companion in hand, and this course was now a part of my training plan rather than my peak. Despite running 18 miles the day before (Sugar Hollow Loop), I felt great and thought I had a chance of doing well in my age group. But since this was a training run, I also wanted to be careful not to push my pace too hard.

After an escort to the Start Line by the Colonial Fife and Drums, we were off. I started in the middle of the pack, hoping that would help me keep to my plan of holding an easy 8:30 for the first four miles.

The first 250m or so is downhill which I’ve learned over the years can be a race breaker. With fresh legs and high on adrenaline, it’s easy for runners to start off too strong on a downhill only to have their quads scream bloody murder at them later in the race. I, however, already had tired quads and had no problem restraining myself on the decent. Even the subsequent uphills I eased up on and kept my ‘perceived effort’ low. Imagine my surprise when my Garmin chirped out the end of the first mile and showed a 7:52 pace.

So much for my plan.

In the thirteen years since I first ran this course, I’ve learned that the first miles of a race are a lie. I’ve learned that no matter how good I feel at mile 2, it is unwise to push myself to go faster/harder. Holding back at the start of a race has been a hard lesson to learn, but a valuable one. At the same time, as the course brought us down a rarely used back road and into the woods, I felt like I was taking it easy. Once upon a time, an 8:30 pace was my warmup pace. Maybe now it wasn’t?

I didn’t want to overthink it. This was just a training run. I felt good, I felt relaxed, I was enjoying the beautiful weather. I decided to ignore the watch and run entirely on feeling.

The first six hilly miles or so of the course are lonely. After the first 2 miles we were on a quiet (paved) trail that looped through the woods. Runners were spread out, aide stations were few and far between, and only a handful of spectators made it out this far to cheer on their loved ones (although those few deserve full credit for the energy they brought with them. Their cheers and encouragement were profound!).

A boisterous aide station met us at the end of this path where we connected onto a road that looped around an office park and lake. Signs of life in the form of people driving to Starbucks and taking advantage of the beautiful day by playing golf gave me new energy. Another rowdy group of college kids met us with another aide station before we tucked back into the woods to take the same paved trail back to the Finish line.

At this point in the race in 2005, I wanted to kill myself. My legs felt like ice blocks, my knees ached, and I could barely muster up a shuffle. Today, I was still holding a sub 8 pace and felt great. Although I never saw the front of the pack, I thought I might be somewhere in the top 20 women overall. Every half a mile or so I passed another female and thought maybe, just maybe, I could do well in my age group after all.

Colonial Half

One spectator told me I was 15th female overall. A mile later I passed three more women on a hill and wondered if I could possibly eek out a top 10 finish. But with only three miles left, there was only one more woman visible far ahead of me, and she looked uncatchable.

Two miles to the end, I was determined to finish strong and glanced at my watch more often in an attempt to force myself to at least hold this pace. It was getting harder, but I never felt like I was pushing my limits. On one of the longer uphills I passed a man who then stayed on my hip. We ran together in silence, each pushing the other–not as a competition, but as one runner helping the other finish the day with our best efforts. Without him there, I may have eased off and slowed with the growing fatigue. But together we pressed on harder than we would have done solo. He was from Staunton and though no stranger to hills out there, was surprised at the terrain of today’s race. This is definitely a course where hill training is required!

Side by side we retraced our steps from the beginning of the race and wound our way through the campus of William and Mary. We were closing in on the last female ahead of me, and if I had another half a mile of course I might have eventually passed her, but we arrived at the arena with her decidedly in the lead. I raised the flag high, sprinted the last 100 yards, and crossed the finish line pleased with the day’s efforts.

After rehydrating, congratulating the other finishers, and getting changed, I checked the overall results board. Third place in my age group! Not bad for a training run. Since I couldn’t stay for awards, I asked the woman at the results table if I could accept my award early. She double checked the age group specific results and did not see my name. In fact, the first place female in my age group had a time ten minutes slower than mine.

A quick conference with the timing people and we learned that I was actually First Place Masters. In this race, the top ten finishers of each gender get awards and are pulled from overall standings. That left me as the fastest female in the Masters Category (which in turn pulled me from age group results).

I was shocked! She handed me my award–a versatile Under Armour backpack filled with UnderArmour hats, gloves, and gear. Not a bad way to finish a training run!

Colonial Half Masters win

Now I have a day off to stretch, relax, and flush out the legs before an easy training week leading to Saturday’s 50k training run. If it goes half as well as this weekend’s runs, I’ll be thrilled.

*To follow the daily training adventures as I attempt my first 50 miler, 100k, and 100 miler(s), follow me on Facebook at Flag Lady Running!*

 

 

 

Sugar Hollow Loop

Part of my training for my upcoming UROC 100k is to get out to the Appalachian Trail (AT) as often as possible. Nothing locally mimics the terrain of the UROC like the AT itself, so early this morning I drove out to the mountains for a training run.

The Sugar Hollow Loop starts at the Moorman Trail head at the very very very VERY end of Sugar Hollow Rd. Other than the fact that the road simply ceased to exist, I would not have known I was in the right place. Wanting to get an early start for a run I thought would take a while, I’d arrived before sunup and needed to spend the next five minutes using my flashlight and the car’s high beams to find the trail markers and reassure myself I was in the right spot.

Finally dressed and with adequate light, I headed out . . . or rather . . . up.

For six miles I gingerly ‘ran’ along the North Moorman trail. In actuality I spent most of that time pacing the edge of the river trying to figure out the best route across it. I got good at this. There were at least five crossings. I had an extra pair of socks with me just in case, but the idea of having to change socks only 2 miles into an 18 mile run was not making me happy, and this wasn’t a race. So I took my time, chose my route, and keep my little piggies dry.

Even between the multiple crossings this route was not easy. Littered with millions of slippery rocks of every size, every footstep needed to be planned out and carefully executed. With one final crossing near a gorgeous waterfall, the trail smoothed and I was able to let my legs go.

Sugar Hollow Falls

My goal for this run was to take it easy, not tire the legs, and practice running this grade of elevation on singletrack. Once I left Moorman trail at mile 6 and hopped on the AT, I was able to really focus on that latter goal. I finally figured out how to time my run intervals on a hill so I’m not simply walking them and feeling frustrated by that. 20 yards seemed to be my magic distance, so for the rest of the route, I alternated walking and running every 20 yards. Because I was now working hard but not totally spent and gasping for air, I could really appreciate how beautiful and quiet it was. It’s been a busy week, and these short hours alone on the mountain were incredibly refreshing–even with the climbs.

Sugar Hollow Loop run

At mile 12.5, I’d reached the end of the up and was ready for the downhill. Thanks to those intervals, I still felt fresh and ready to push myself on the flip side. My pace sped up, my feet felt light, and I was thoroughly enjoying the decent when bam! a bear was in my path.

At least I *thought* it was a bear. Sure looked like a baby cub to me and after coming to a screeching halt I simultaneously looked for Mama and tried to remember whether I was supposed to be big and loud or run away. I was leaning towards running away when I noticed that the cub hadn’t moved. At all.

Closer inspection showed my bear cub was a root.

Sigh. Long distance running brain plays terrible tricks on a person!

InkedSugar Hollow Bear_LI
Picture doesn’t do it justice, but by golly that was the scariest root out there today!

Safely past the treacherous bear cub, I pressed on until reconnecting with the Moorman trail and headed South.

Just like the North version, this trail was more rough than the AT. Rocks slowed my pace dramatically and I finally had to stop and re-lace my shoes for a heel lock. More river crossings met me but this time, with only a couple of miles left and not worried too much about creating horrendous blisters, I wasted no time looking for safe routes and just plodded across. In the summer I’ll bet those water crossings feel heavenly. In winter, however, not so much. But cold feet encouraged me to charge ahead and get back to the car.

Which I did. One final crossing, where the water came up to my knees at the most shallow area, and I was back to the now packed parking lot. 18 miles done. But the best part was feeling like I could easily keep going. I’d maintained a decent pace, but my method to minimize effort on the climbs paid off .

Good thing, too. I have a half marathon race tomorrow!

Sugar Hollow

 

Sugar Hollow Elevation

Special thanks to the VHTRC group for their ‘Furbutt’s Favorites‘ trail suggestions, maps, and turn guides.

To follow the daily training adventures as I attempt my first 50 miler, 100k, and 100 miler(s), follow me on Facebook at Flag Lady Running!

 

Richmond Double Trouble

It sounded like a good idea months ago, but around mile 21 I realized I was even more insane than I already accepted myself to be.

For my final big race of the year, I decided to double down and run the Richmond 8k and the Richmond Marathon on the same morning. After all, the total mileage was the same as a 50k and I was already trained up for that. The challenging part was finishing the 8k with enough time to get back up to the Start Line of the marathon and ideally make it there in time to meet up with my 3:35 pace group. To accomplish that, I needed to finish the 8k in 40 minutes. Not exactly a great way to start the opening miles of a 30+ mile run, but therein lies the fun.

richmond marathon at Omni
Prime seat next to the fire at the Omni Hotel.

Adding to the challenge was the cold. Race morning was a whopping 28 degrees outside and not expected to warm up much more than that over the course of the day. Not good for this warm weather runner. Thankfully the Omni Hotel opens their doors to racers and gives us a place to wait for our start away from the frigid air. I huddled by the fire for as long as I could, and since my friend, Omar, generously agreed to drop off my post race bag with the UPS trucks, I was able to stay in the warmth even longer. I stepped outside about 15 minutes before my race and never had a chance to get very cold before my wave started. Thanks Omar and the Omni!

A pleasant surprise of the 8k was meeting fellow Team RWB member, Angel. Starting a race held on Veteran’s Day, alongside a veteran, while carrying the flag was a great way to start the day.

richmond 8k start 2
Angel and I staying warm before the 8k start

Moments after the beautifully performed National Anthem, our wave took off. My goal was to maintain an 8 min mile, but since my Garmin was now buried under layers of warm clothes I was going to have to run by feel. About a half a mile into it, I felt fast but steady. For all I knew I was going too slow, but I didn’t want to completely empty the tank before the marathon. Whatever I was doing was just going to have to be good enough. The course is fairly uneventful—few spectators especially on such a cold morning, a standard route leading us down one street and back up the other, and very little talking amongst the other runners. The cobblestones on the second half were tricky, but as I ticked off the miles I was thankful I hadn’t made the trek all the way into the city just for this one race. Just as I was hitting my stride we made our final turn to the Finish and I crossed with a time of 36:21, an average of 7:18 minute mile.

Whoops. Too fast.

At the time I didn’t notice or care–not that I could do anything about it at this point anyway. I grabbed my medal, got help from a spectator to hop back over the barrier, and ran up the hill to the Start. As I approached I saw the runners going already—except they were going the wrong way. It was the elites finishing their warmups. The race hadn’t started yet! For months I’d anticipated being the last one to start the race–dashing to the Start Line before they pulled the timing mats, and needing to catch up to the pace group. But I was actually early! I missed the marathon’s National Anthem but still had two minutes to get into my corral and join up with my group.  We headed out before I had a chance to get chilled and part two of the day’s adventure began.

After the speedy 8k, this slower 8 minute mile pace felt wonderful. It gave me a chance to catch my breath, tuck my medal in under my shirt, and grab some fuel. I was probably the only one eating in the first half a mile. Now the course had more spectators and the mere volume of runners increased the energy level.

Almost too much.

I’ve been on trails so much these days that having hundreds of runners elbow to elbow felt claustrophobic. One runner behind me hit my leg and made me stutter step. All in all I’d rather deal with roots on the trail at night than get tripped up from behind and potentially run over by a thousand racers right on my heel!

Richmond Marathon Start
Barely visible in the huge pack of 3:35 runners. The Half Marathon runners are on the other side of the road. (Richmond Times Dispatch)

Behind me I could hear the high energy Whoops and Hollers from a person that could only be my friend, Vicki. Having just completed an incredible marathon a mere week before, she was out here today to coach and encourage the Richmond runners. Her energy is contagious and definitely helped me enjoy those first miles.

By mile 6 of the marathon (mile 12 for me) I started to feel the efforts of the morning catch up to me. Our pacers were doing a great job keeping us on track for a 3:35 finish, but my body didn’t like the 8 min pace anymore. Those couple of miles we dipped into a sub 8 pace felt brutal. I wanted to slow to 8:30 but I also knew I needed the group to help me across the dreaded Lee Bridge—the bridge that was my undoing in 2014. No matter how calm race day is, that bridge is a wind tunnel. The trick to surviving is to get in a pack and work as a team to pull everyone across. I steeled my mind to push hard and stay with the herd until we crossed that bridge.

I almost didn’t make it, but finally we hit mile 15 (21 for me), formed a tight unit, braced for the wind, and plowed our way across the James River. As soon as we hit the main land again I waved goodbye to the 3:35ers and happily dropped back.

Ten miles to the Finish and I started to wonder if it was worth pressing on or not. My right hip was furious with me and now that I was running solo it was harder to ignore it and continue on. Flashbacks of the disastrous 2014 marathon ran through my mind and I started to scold myself for having such a stupid idea of doing both races. This was going to be a long and painful ten miles. Was it really worth pushing through the pain in this cold?

And then an angel appeared! She took the form of my running guru and super supportive friend, Sherry. She screamed my name and jumped in alongside me. For three miles she talked and listened and encouraged and helped me get out of my head. She ran slightly ahead of me and at a pace I wouldn’t have chosen for myself, but it forced me to realize I still had more speed in me than I realized. I didn’t have to suffer in mere survival mode. I could do this!

richmond run 1
The ‘Fake It Til You Make It’ smile

I’d read the studies and knew the concerns but when she offered me some Ibuprofen to help with my hip, I took her up on it. I’m not sure it helped, but my hip sure didn’t get any worse so I consider that a victory.

When we approached the stadium, mile 19 of the marathon, she turned back to help other runners. Mentally I was better and I knew I could finish–eventually. I never cared about my time for this race so I was okay doing whatever pace my hip would allow so long as I maintained forward progress.

Then another angel appeared. Robin, a friend who allowed me to run with her on her first half marathon and who was at this same spot last year when I was fighting for a BQ, was here again to cheer me on. She jumped in and ran with me for about 50 yards and her enthusiasm was contagious.  A mile later, my husband and kids found me. I happily stopped to collect hugs and kisses. Russell helped me refill my water bottle and offered dry clothes to change into. I stretched my hip, got more hugs and kisses, then headed out. A mere mile later I found Vicki again—still as enthusiastic as she was at mile 1. She ran with me for almost 2 miles and helped refocus my brain. I fed off her insistence that I was doing great. We saw my family one more time as the course completed the U-turn through the neighborhood then Vicki looped back to help other runners. At mile 23 Robin arrived a second time and gave me another kick in the pants to keep moving on.

Suddenly I was at marathon mile 24 (mile 30 for me)! My friends and family had me so focused on seeing them and boosting my energy, I hadn’t realized how many miles I’d ticked off. The Finish was just ahead. I was really going to do this!

Richmond marathon run
Not exactly the enviable stride of Shalane Flanagan, but I was making forward progress.

At this point the course loops back into the city.  I passed the VUU drum band whose incredible music put some more pep in my step. A little further down the road I came to my favorite cheer section who happened to be playing Pink. This fired me up more and I picked up the pace slightly for the final stretch to the Finish Line.

Richmond Marathon drumline
Photo by Jesse Peters

I glanced at my Garmin, did some quick math, and realized if I pressed hard I might squeak in just a few seconds under 4 hours for the marathon. The downhill finish is evil, in my opinion, and on tired legs it’s no place to try to sprint. I did what I could and glanced at the finish clock—3:46!

Evidently, I’m no good at math.

richmond marathon finish 1 by Tony A
Finish Line! My 8k medal didn’t want to miss this part and popped out at the last minute. Photo by Tony Aguilar

Done! Tears threatened, but fears that they would then freeze on my face made me hold them back. Another friend, Crystal, was there to hand me my medal and give me a big hug. Another volunteer handed me a water bottle. Someone else handed me my fleece blanket. A final person handed me the 40th anniversary Finisher’s Cup (and a second one for the 8k since I didn’t take one the first time through the chute). Loaded down with finisher’s gear, I grabbed my recovery bag (thanks again, Omar!), quickly changed before I froze, then headed to the post race party zone. I always think I’ll linger there and soak up the atmosphere. But every year I get there and decide I’d really rather be home . . . and warm. I grabbed a cold bagel (I miss the awesome trail post-race foods) and waddled back to the car where I sat with the heat on full power for a good ten minutes before I was thawed enough to consider driving.

In the end, I’m pleased with the results. In the 8k, I finished 7th in my Age Group and 159 overall out of 2678 racers. For the marathon, I was 32nd in my Age Group and 939 overall out of 4238 racers.

Lucky Foot Finish
Celebrating the double finish at Lucky Road, the only place I trust to keep my feet and legs happy. Photo by Jeff Van Horn

My marathon time was a mere 90 seconds shy of a Boston Qualifying time. Perhaps if I hadn’t stopped to hug friends, or didn’t stop to stretch my hip so often, or pushed just a little harder on the final miles, I could have earned another BQ. But I also know now that if I hadn’t stopped those times to mentally and physically readjust, I probably wouldn’t have finished anywhere close to 3:46 in the first place. And now I have great memories of time spent with my incredibly supportive friends and family, rather than memories of 10 miles of agony. That’s worth 90 seconds to me!

richmond double

I don’t know if I’ll run the Richmond Marathon again. My heart is in trail races and the beating I get on the road puts me out of commission too long for my liking. Part of me wants to run with the 3:35 pace group again and try to start AND finish with them, but I also have a list of races a mile long that I want to do next year and some of them are at the same as this one. I feel like I’ve conquered this course. I beat back the demons from 2014. Now might be the time to have a different fall adventure.

But for now, it’s time to rest. Two weeks off from training entirely before I hit the trails to prep for the 2018 season and my first attempt at a 100 mile race at the Eagle Up Ultra.

 

 

Medoc Marathon 2017

I didn’t want to run the Medoc Marathon. A friend suggested I consider doing it but the timing was all wrong. Only two weeks after the Blues Cruise 50k and two weeks before the Richmond 8k and Marathon double, it just didn’t seem like a good time to go do a trail marathon. Plus, it was all the way in North Carolina.

But the humor on the website and the high praise from all who had done it before convinced me to reconsider and I’m so glad I did! Once I looked again, I saw that I had a 20 mile training run scheduled for that weekend, and in reality the race was only 2 hours away. I went ahead and signed up, chose my whacky trail name for our race bibs, and did all I could to research the route and see if this ‘mountain’ everyone grumbled about was really all that difficult.

It was.

Race morning was cool but expected to get hot quickly so I toed up to the Start Line wearing a long sleeve tee shirt that I was prepared to throw away at an aide station when I needed to. We were just about ready to start the run and everyone started firing up their Garmins, but first we needed to do the Anthem.

Earlier in the week the race director asked if anyone would sing the National Anthem for us. I suggested that everyone sing it together. He took me up on that and all the racers and spectators woke up the park with our heartfelt rendition of The Star Spangled Banner. I don’t think it ever sounded as good as it did that morning! Anthem finished, the race started, and we headed off down the road before turning onto the trails to begin the adventure.

Medoc Mile 1

The first couple of miles were a trap.

As we got our legs warmed up and our heartrates in race mode, we were treated to a relatively flat, free from roots and rocks, trail that meandered through a beautiful section of woods. I was in the front pack of about 20 people and was the lead female. I had a feeling that between my still-recovering legs and the youthfulness of the field behind me, I wasn’t going to stay first for long.

Once we hit Medoc Mountain I was certain of it.

The incline itself isn’t too bad. Alone, the deep ruts and loose leaf covered rocks weren’t too bad. The length of the climb alone isn’t too bad. But put altogether it’s a challenging section.  I ran up it this first time knowing full well the next two loops would involve hiking it instead. But the flip side had a long recovery section where the footing was more steady, the decline more gentle, and an aide station just ahead.

Medoc Run 1

The next section brought us to a stream where we meandered along the shore on a trail that had some rooty sections but overall was a very easy flat. I pushed the pace in the hopes of banking some time for when my legs inevitably slowed down on the last lap, and in the process had shockingly slipped into 10th place overall. My primary goal for races is always just to finish and live to run another day. Today’s goal also included trying to place in my age group—the glasses they were handing out as awards were spectacular and the bling whore in me desperately wanted one! 10th place overall would certainly accomplish that. I pushed on.

The loop finished with a brief stint through the campgrounds and back to the main field where we started. Our bib numbers were checked as we ran passed the Finish Line and started the second loop.

By now the 10 mile racers were on the trail as well which added to festivity in the air. It also added to the . . . scent. The sun was up and the heat had kicked in. We were a very stinky group of runners out there! Stinky, but happy. The woods echoed with sounds of laughter. Many had collected into small groups and were cheerily chatting as they pushed their bodies over the roots and tricky terrain. Runners generously encouraged me on after giving me plenty of room to pass. Their energy and enthusiasm made this second loop seem less difficult than I had anticipated and I started the third loop with renewed enthusiasm.

Medoc run 2

That lasted until I hit Medoc Mountain the third time. Now the trails were empty—even the odor had dissipated. Volunteers had been relieved of their posts and for a while I wondered if I had done something wrong and the race was over. Mentally it was difficult to press on through an empty trail on tired legs. The roots seemed bigger now. The hills seemed steeper.

I knew I was still first place female but I had no idea how far behind me second place was. My body wanted to slow down, but a bigger part of me wanted to press hard and try to hold this lead. I knew I’d have to hike hard on the uphills and press the pace on the downhills and flats, and even then it might not be enough.

My mind was saved by the presence of David Nash—a runner I’d been playing leapfrog with all morning. He could run up those hills like they weren’t even there. As I trudged up Medoc Mountain for the last time, he flew past me yet again. I admired his strength and speed and made a mental note to work on hills more next training cycle. I caught him again on the downhill—which had been our pattern for the entire race. I knew if we could stay within sight of one another, we’d be fine. But first we had to power through the second half of this loop—a section that had stairs, a long false flat, and a very rooty section leading to the finish line.

Finally I broke out of the woods one last time and was allowed to make the turn to the Finish Line. I crossed the field and heard the incredible cheers from the crowd made up mostly of 10 mile racers who had already finished and were enjoying the post race festivities. I crossed the line as First Place female, fourth overall, with a time of 3:39.

Medoc Finish Diann Hawks 2
Photo Credit: Diann Hawks

I was in shock.

David finished only 40 seconds after me, and the second place female (doing her very first marathon) came in 2 and a half minutes later.

I loved everything about this race and am so glad I was talked into doing it! The course was spectacular–hard but not impossible and with plenty of ‘easy’ sections to keep the legs turning over. The post race celebration was a runner’s dream–fresh soup, bluegrass band playing, front row seats to view other runners, and a gorgeous day. The swag/bling was above and beyond. Not only did I earn that coveted glass award, they also gave finishers the coolest medal I’ve ever received, a thin long sleeved hoodie that I have yet to take off, and a metal water bottle with the race info engraved on it. As first place female, I also won a teal pumpkin with the race logo and information hand painted on it! How creative is that?!

I’m leaving my Fall race schedule for 2018 open right now since I have no idea how I’ll feel after my first 100 in June, but if I’m capable of even walking, I’d love to come back and do this one again.

 

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