Something scary...

How do these things happen?  After my 100 miler at Rocky last year, I decided that since I had met my goal (sub 24), I would take a break from 100's, and only run races that I could finish without running through the night in 2014.  Well, that was before I got the message from Jeff Beck, RD Extraordinaire, asking me to be a part of the Forge Racing Team for the first year of the ThunderRock 100 in Tennessee.  You see, one thing you have to understand about me for any of this to make sense is that I NEVER pass up an opportunity to do something cool, and I am not afraid of failure which makes it easier to jump on board when something asinine like this is proposed. Don't get me wrong - I am not a fan of failure.  I actually dislike it very much and work really hard to decrease that possibility, but I am not afraid of it.  I would much rather look back on my life and say, "Well, I tried" rather than "I wonder what would have happened if...".

So, when I got the message from Jeff about TR late last year, it didn't take long for me to say yes.  Did I completely understand the task laid before me?  No.  Did it matter?  No.  What I did know is that I would be part of a team with two outstanding ultra runners, AD Marshall and Ed Melancon, and I was honored to be considered.  I have said it for years - the decision to do the thing is often harder than the actual doing of the thing. Once I make up my mind, the task is complete.  The rest is just details.

Then, last month, the race director (RD) of TR put up the elevation profile:

Yeah,  I'm not going to lie.  This made me laugh out loud for an entire day.  See, THIS is what happens when you jump at an opportunity.  You get presented with a beautiful challenge that you may not have accepted had you known all of the details.  I love my life, folks, and I do not believe in accidents.

So, with Rocky Raccoon 50 miler behind me (race report to come), I am officially in training mode for this bad boy.  I have an A-List pacer, Lane Gremillion, who has agreed to get me to the finish line, and I am very excited to meet this challenge head on.  How bad can it be?  I just have to get through the low spot that is named after Copperhead snakes because there are bunches of them there and get across the river at mile 81 that is "chest to neck deep", then it will be an easy 4 mile vertical climb then a gradual descent to the finish line.  Yep. Still makes me laugh.  Stupid makes for GREAT stories.

Happy Running Y'all!

Edie

Cactus Rose - A beauty and a beast

I returned yesterday from Hill Country State Natural Area, just outside Bandera, Texas, where I ran the Cactus Rose 50 miler for the second year in a row.  I probably say this after all of my races, but this one truly was an incredible experience.  You tend to learn a lot about who you are in general at ultra distance races, and Cactus Rose doesn't disappoint in that regard. First, you have to get your s&%t together to get there:

Since this race is self-supported, you have to bring your own supplies to pack into drop boxes at each aid station. You go the day before the race to deliver your boxes so that they will be waiting for you when you get there during the race. All the race supplies is the water, you take care of all of your other needs - snacks, sports drinks you may want, medication, band aids, etc.  The aid stations are  about 5 miles apart, which on this course can be up to an hour and a half, depending on the amount of climbs and descents in that section. I buy these things in bulk, then split them into snack sized baggies for each drop box.

One of my favorite ultra foods -
Animal Crackers!!

Then I take those baggies of snacks, along with salt tabs and any other medication I think I might need, and put them into bigger baggies labeled with which aid station they are going to.

A little fuzzy but you get the point.

I also add into my baggie for the Equestrian aid station, which we would be seeing twice on each loop - lube and extra batteries for my headlamp and handheld.  Two things you would rather not happen out there - getting stuck without proper lighting (very technical trails), and chafing (I passed a guy fairly early into the race who was walking like a cowboy and complaining about his chafing.  His buddy looked like he was about to push him off of a cliff.  Can't say I would have blamed him - this is a race designed for veteran ultra runners, and that was a rookie mistake.)

So, I loaded into the car with two of my ultra running buddies, Bobbi Parker and Brad Delcambre who were also running the 50 miler, and we headed west.  It was great to get to the hill country and start seeing things like this:

This is such a beautiful area.  It is hard to believe it is so close to us, but so vastly different from the terrain we are used to.  

We set up our tent - even with the wind doing its best to blow it away - there was a heck of a front that had moved through that day, and the temps were dropping nicely.  I am a huge cold weather wimp.  Below 75 degrees and I am freezing, but for a race of this difficulty, I'll take it.  Once the tent was set up, it was time to pack our drop boxes.

Coke - works great to settle a funky stomach.

Taped these to the boxes. :)
When you arrive at the first aid station and it is dark,
it is hard to spot your box amid a sea of identical boxes,
and these helped them stand out.

Once we delivered them to the aid stations (just a few miles away from the start/finish via gravel road, but a world away when you are running trails and tired), it was time for the race briefing.

Joe Prusaitis (L) - Race Director
Henry Hobbs (R) - Head Trail Marking Guy
and Color Commentator 

Joe filled us in on the conditions of the trails that we would encounter.  He told us that this was the most messed up and technical (difficult and requiring your full attention) that he had ever seen this trail, and while this is only my fourth time racing on this trail, I have to agree.  Erosion had caused washouts and loose rocks - especially on the side of some of the toughest hills, causing tricky footing on the descents.  It was hard getting up these climbs anyway - very steep - but when you can't get traction and you are kicking rocks back at the runner behind you, then sliding down the backside because there is no solid footing to plant on, and the descent is too steep to walk,  it makes it even more interesting.

My major weakness on this course is descending.  I am a fairly strong climber.  I like the uphills, and I pass many runners there.  I like the burn I feel in my legs and lungs when I get to the top.  If they could figure out how to do a relay where one runner got the climbs and the other got the descents, it would be awesome - I am still working on that. In the meantime, I just suck it up and try not to trip, roll down the rocky hillside and do major damage.  The descents scare me - there is nothing even close to this to train on here.  Yeah, we can find some small hills, but none with loose rock to land on.  If I can ever conquer this fear, I could cut a huge amount of time off of this course, but in the meantime, I just say a little curse word, and plow through.

Don't cross the caution tape, people.
Seems obvious, really.  Something never heard on a
trail run; "Why'd they put this caution tape in my
way? "(Goes under tape, wins Best Blood Award)

Blood Toll - noun - meaning the price you have to pay to run this course, and the earlier you pay it the better.  Henry told us about the sotol grass. Sounds nice, doesn't it?  Picturing Texas prairie land with tall grass blowing in the wind?  Not so much.  Sotol grass was made by the devil to insure that your post race shower is as unpleasant as possible.  It looks an aloe vera plant with an attitude.  It is Texas, of course:

Since I reach the whopping height of 5'2", there were sections where this was at eye level.  It was like running through a car wash of razor blades - no exaggeration - I was wearing long sleeves and long tights, and it cut me through my clothes.  Luckily, these sections were few, and honestly, by the end of the race, you no longer cared, and just plowed right through them.  

The erosion also caused taller "ledges" on the trail.  Since the ground there is mostly rock, or a thin layer of dirt over rock. on the side of the hills, outcroppings of rocks appear.  Last time I ran this course they were about hip high for me, meaning a really high step would usually get over them, and coming down I could hop off of them.  This year, they are even higher, meaning I had to find a way to climb up them by finding something to use as a step or a tree to pull myself up on.  On the way down, I had to sit on the edge of it and hop down - like hopping off of the kitchen counter when you were a kid watching your mom cook.

As you can imagine, all of these little obstacles slowed things down a bit, but they are also what makes these races so much fun for me.  You never know what to expect out there, and you have to be able to adapt and roll with it.

It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change – Charles Darwin

Many people who are much better athletes than I am drop out of these races because things aren't going according to their plan.  That is why I have a very simple plan on this course - try to go faster than I did last year, and finish the race with the same amount of teeth that I start with.  Mission accomplished.

So, after the race briefing we headed back to our tent and chilled out for a bit. We got to visit for a few minutes with one of my favorite couples, Lane and Erica Gremillion from Pineville.  Lane would be attempting the 100 miler the next day.  Before you ask, yes, a certain degree of crazy is required to be my friend. :)

Lane and Erica after his first 100 mile finish -
Sub 24 hours at Rocky Raccoon!!

 When it was about time to climb into the sleeping bag the temps had dropped to 40 degrees with gusty winds.  As I have gotten into the habit of doing at the races where I camp out the night before, I got into my running clothes, taped my toes (just my big toes - I tend to blister on the outside of them, and while it is not a deal breaker, it does tend to hurt when sliding around on rocks), and got all of my race morning stuff lined up.  I trimmed my race number down - most folks pin this to the leg of their shorts or tights for longer races - throughout the course of the day you will put on and take off layers of clothes up top, but rarely will you change your tights or shorts; then I filled up my handheld and waist pack. I started the race carrying my handheld filled with water, and in the zipper pocket of this were the aid station splits so I would have an idea how far I had to go before getting to water and our drop boxes.

High tech, I know.  That's how I roll.

In my waist pack, I had an extra bottle filled with water (that's why I love the Amphipod hydration system that I use - the bottles are interchangeable and so easy to carry.  It fits my hand perfectly so that I don't have to hold it - it is just there and I don't even feel it.  

Also in my waist pack:  Honey Stinger gummies, a gel (which I never had to use - thank goodness), chapstick (crucial in long runs), and salt pills.

It probably sounds strange to sleep in your run clothes, but when we are camping and it is close to freezing, the last thing I want to do in the morning is have to get out of a warm sleeping bag to change into cold clothes.  And, since we sleep on site for the race, I can get up 30 minutes before the race and be ready to walk to the race start when Joe yells out "10 minutes".

Once things were squared away, and my alarm was set, it was time to attempt to sleep.  I never really sleep the night before a big race, and I have learned that this really isn't a big deal.  If I find myself checking my watch every hour, I don't stress about it like I used to.  I don't notice any effect on my race day performance.  Since the race start was at 5 a.m., we were up about 4:15.  This was plenty of time to pin on my number, get my headlamp and handheld flashlight ready, drink an Ensure (I never eat anything solid that early - my stomach won't allow it), get my shoes on, and make one more visit to the porta potty.  Right about then, I hear Joe say "10 minutes" so I walked over to the start where I ran into Teddi, a friend from town, and by far the fastest ultra running female in the area.  When I asked her what her time goal was, she wisely said "My only goal on this course is not to lose any teeth."  Pretty modest goal considering she finished as the second place female with a time of 10:09.  Amazing!!

With the call of "5 minutes", everyone headed to the start, and with one loud "WooHoo" from the crowd, we were off.  For the first couple of miles I almost didn't need my headlamp, there were so many runners around me the ground was pretty well lit. But, that didn't stop me from face planting about 2 miles into the race.  Was it an especially technical spot on the trail?  No.  I have no idea what I tripped on, but I went from running at a pretty good pace to face down on the trail.  I had to get up as quickly as possible to avoid tripping the next runner, so I pulled over to the side of the trail to assess the damage.  I had landed pretty hard on my right elbow, and it was bleeding a bit through my sleeve, but I couldn't see the bone, so that was all good.  I couldn't hold my handheld in that hand for a while since I could not grip my hand at all, but that cleared up after 30 minutes or so.  I had a pain in my lower stomach where I had landed on a rock that was sticking up from the trail, and I have a bruise there.  That ached for quite a while and is still tender to the touch. But, all in all, it was nothing fatal or race ending, so it was time to go.  I had paid my Blood Toll to the trail early, so I should be good for the rest of the day.

We lucked out with the weather.  It was cool in the morning, and overcast most of the day.  The sun came out briefly - just long enough to burn the side of my neck that it was hitting - then it went back to being overcast - perfect!!  I didn't track my time much, except that at every aid station I would estimate how long it might take me to get to the next aid station.  This is just a mental game I play to break the day into shorter sections.  

Bobbi and Brad were running strong  - every time I crossed paths with them, they looked like they were having a great day.  Brad has done this course many times so he knew what to expect, and even though it was Bobbi's second 50 miler, and first time on this course, she is one tough chick so I knew she would be fine.

This race is a two loop course.  The first loop going clockwise on the trail: 

And the second loop going counter clockwise:

For the 100 milers (yes, there are some incredibly brave and hearty souls who cover 100 miles of this terrain), its 4 loops.  Ouch. It did make my day easier knowing these folks were out there too, though.

As always, you see interesting things at these races.  I saw lots of blood at this one.  One girl who was wearing shorts with the front of her thighs shredded by the sotol, the second place guy with blood running down his legs from his knees where it looked like he had bit the dust pretty hard (and was still in second place running hard), the 100 mile finisher who had one heck of a black eye (never got the whole story there - I saw him post race, and he wasn't terribly coherent), and of course, my favorite, the sweet lady who thought it would be fun to run with bells tied onto her shoe laces. After running near her for a few miles and hearing nothing but ching,ching, ching, CHING, CHING, CHING!!!  - I had to let her know as gently as possible that the noise was driving me crazy and ruining the peace and quiet that we look for at these races.  I have enough noise and clutter in my life - these races are my chance to escape from that and be in nature.  The only sounds I wanted that day were occasional polite banter with a fellow runner, the crunch of the rocks under my feet, and my own labored breathing.  I think she got the hint because when we crossed paths later, she no longer sounded like she should be pulling a sleigh behind her.

I tried something different with my nutrition at this race that worked well.  Over the last couple of ultra seasons I have used Vespa in the place of Gu with great luck.  Ever since my last 100, though, I have not been able to look a pack of Vespa in the eye without my stomach revolting. So, here's what I took in for 13 plus hours on Saturday:

Pre-race - 1 Ensure Plus nutrition shake - 350 calories, 13 grams of protein.  It is non-dairy so it doesn't upset my stomach, and it goes down easy.  Sometimes, if I am having trouble keeping food down late in a race, I will have another Ensure then, and I bring extra for post race fueling.  I drink them over the next few days after the race to replenish what was lost and try to make nice with my body for the pounding I have put it through.

During the race: (no exact amounts - I am not very precise about this)

A few handfuls of animal crackers and Pringles

2 lunch box sized packs of those Keebler cookies with M & M's in them :)

2 packs of Honey Stinger Energy Chews (like gummy bears - sooo good!!)

6  salt tabs 

About 20 oz of water every 5 miles or so (remember, on this terrain, 5 miles could be anywhere from 1 hour to 1 1/2 hours)

And that's it.  No gels.  Even in my earlier ultras I did my best to steer away from gels, using 1 at the most in the late stages of a 50 miler when fatigue would set in.  I'm not exactly sure what that means or what lesson to draw from it.  According to an online calculator I found, I would have burned about 4233 calories in 50 miles, not taking into account the terrain, so we'll up it to 5,000 calories to be safe.  You can see from the list above that I didn't take in nearly that many calories, and I felt just fine all day.  No bonk.  No real fatigue.  Any time I thought I might be getting hungry, I would eat a few cookies or animal crackers.  I grazed all day, not just at the aid stations.  Now, that being said, I could not get enough food into my mouth fast enough on the way home Sunday.  I was starving all day, especially for anything high in protein.

Race day went by pretty quickly, as usual.  I never line up at the start and think, "Oh My God, I have to run 50 miles!".  I just start running.  Usually I break the course up into chunks, aid station to aid station, and play mental games to pass the time.  You want to see something funny - ask someone 10 hours or more into a race to do simple math.  But once I get past the marathon distance in a 50 miler, I know I am more than half way there.  When I get to 37 miles, I just have a half marathon left, then once I am in single digits, its all good.  

As usual, this was a first class event put on by Tejas Trails.

Even though it was bare boned as far as aid offered, it was very well marked, the water stops were always well stocked, and you got plenty of encouragement when you pulled into the start/finish area before your second loop.  People cheered some when you came in, but they REALLY cheered when you went back out.  This is such an amazing course.  Tough, painful, beautiful, rugged, peaceful.  Pretty much sums up Texas itself, doesn't it.  I took a few minutes on each loop to stop and soak in the view from the top of some of the peaks (and to catch my breath).  I love that place.  I believe that the pain you choose to put yourself through in such a serene setting is cleansing.  I think you knock a lot of internal cobwebs off, and you clean out a few closets.  The little things aren't so important anymore, and you come out of this race with a better understanding of who you are and who you want to become.  When facing a challenge such as this, I often find myself looking at the other runners as they go by - whether they are smiling and saying "hi", or grimacing and digging deep - and I am overcome with a sense of awe at the strength of the human spirit.  No one is forced to do this.  They choose to.  They choose to push their bodies far beyond the point where most folks would have given up.  They endure pain, whether it be from blisters, aching muscles, or tender feet.  They embrace that pain and use it to fuel their journey.  They exhibit a depth of character that few ever realize for themselves. They stare their fears and self doubts in the eye - and they defeat them over and over again.  This is humanity stripped of all of its window dressing, and down to bare bones - self-preservation and perseverance.  As much as I love people in general, these races truly make me appreciate the triumph of the human spirit.

And THAT is why I do these races.  I don't enjoy pain like a misguided person once suggested.  How simple and frankly, stupid.  I enjoy succeeding despite the pain.  I enjoy pulling the pain down and using it as a step stool to reach my goal.  And I absolutely LOVE standing at the finish line after and watching runner after runner come in.  Some have tons of adoring friends and family there to greet them, and some come across to a smattering of applause, walk over to their vehicle, and drive home.  I imagine these to be the guys with the slight limp at work on Monday where no one has a clue what they did for fun over the weekend.

So, this is me stepping down from my soapbox.  For those that don't read this and ask how the race was, they will get the stock answer, "Tough, but fun".  You guys know the whole story.

I was able to beat my time from last year - 13:42 by 14 minutes and come in at 13:28.  Not a grand PR, but any PR on this course is a reason to celebrate in my book. With this, I had completed my 10th ultramarathon.  Fitting that it should be on this course. Bobbi and Brad also had a strong race, as did Lane who is the first person from this area to finish the 100 miler with a time of 29 hours and change.  AWESOME!!  He is my hero!!

UPDATE - I just heard that Fred Arsement, a dear friend from Duson, also completed the 100 miler in 30 hours and a bit.  Add another name to my list of heroes!!  Great job, Fred!!!

Happy Running Y'all.
Edie

PS - Legs feel great - should be running again by the end of the week, getting ready for the Wild Hare 50 miler in 3 weeks!  WooHoo!!!  I love race season!!

Here's a link to a story written by the RD, Joe Prusaitis about the history of Cactus Rose 50 and 100 miler:
http://www.austinfitmagazine.com/Fitness/Event+Profile/2012/October/cactus-rose-100-miler.html

  

6 weeks until Cactus Rose!!!

October 27, 2012

Bandera, Texas

Here's how the race director promotes the race: "No Whiners, Wimps, or Wusses : A nasty rugged trail run

Bonus Points for Blood, Cuts, Scrapes, & Puke"

This will be my first 50 miler for the season, and the second year in a row that I do this race. This is one hell of way to officially start off my ultra season.  It is a little hilly.  The first 25 mile loop:

The second 25 mile loop:

So, as you see, miles 18 - 32 are pretty much spent climbing steep ascents, or trying not to fall down steep descents.  But, don't let it fool you - Lucky Peak at mile 48 SUCKS!!  That is the one descent that is so steep and covered with scree (loose pebbles), that a wipe out is highly likely.  At least if you slide down the hill, you get to the bottom faster.  I have seen people going down this on their butts because they were afraid to attempt to run it because of the steepness.  I usually just take a deep breath, curse the RD one last time (I do that alot on this course), and just try to move my feet as quickly as possible all the while hoping for the best.

I LOVE this race.  It is a bare bones, take care of your own needs kind of race.  There are aid stations, but they mainly consist of tables under a tent with jugs of water on them, and a cooler with ice.  You are expected to pack in your own food, medical supplies, change of clothes, etc., the day before to each aid station.  There is one manned station, and it is worked by Olga.  Olga is a legend at all of the Tejas Trails events.  She is tiny, blonde, Russian, and TOUGH. You do not want to piss off Olga.  She is also a veteran ultra runner, so when she gives you advice, you take it.  I hate tomato soup, but I drank some at last years race because she told me to.

This race is in the Hill Country State Natural Area, just northwest of San Antonio.  It is an incredibly beautiful area.  The climbs are pretty intense, but the views from the top make it all worth it.  Most of the time, you are running on a variety of sizes of rocks.  Some are small and slide under your feet, and some are just big enough to roll an ankle on when you try to plant on them.

Lots of spots like this.

Even with tough trail shoes, by the end, your feet are
very tender.

Here you see the rocks AND the sotol grass.
When you have to run through patches of this, its
like running through a carwash of razor blades.
No exaggeration there, folks.

These are equestrian trails also, so you will run across this a couple of times during the race:

Last year, I ran up on a horseman who was kind enough to gallop ahead to get out of my way, every time I would catch up with him. While I appreciated his courtesy, I didn't appreciate the clouds of dust I sucked in as a result.  I was very happy when we went our separate ways.

At the race briefing, the park ranger is very careful to warn us (numerous times) of the danger of this course. There are a few peaks that are so steep and treacherous because of the footing, that they won't even allow horse back riders up there to rescue an injured runner.  The only way out - by helicopter.  And guess who pays the bill for that....  Luckily, last year, this is the worst injury that I was aware of:

Favorite ultra quote, "If the bone ain't showin',
keep on goin'".
And that he did.

He was  a great sport though.  He finished the race, then walked back to the dude ranch he was staying at a couple of miles down the road.

As I said, this is bare bones.  Here's what the RD says about medical aid on the course:

MEDICAL: yes... Medical will be there. The park does expect some sort of coverage. Otherwise, I'd let you duct tape your own wounds.

 What wounds might require duct tape?  Well, earlier I mentioned the sotol grass:

This grows very thick in quite a few sections of the trail.  Every time I race on this course (this will be my 4th race there - Bandera 50k twice, and Cactus last year) - I wear full tights, regardless of the temperature.  Don't let that fool you, though, I am still sliced up when I finish.  This stuff will cut you right through your tights.  Last year, they actually tore a hole in my compression tights - imagine what it does to bare skin.  It makes the post race shower that much more interesting. As does digging out one of the barbs from these;

A couple of weeks after last years race, a friend who had run
it noticed a boil type spot on his leg.  When he examined
it further, he pulled out one of these barbs that had
been embedded so deep he didn't even realize it
until it decided to work its way out.

I mentioned the beauty of this course earlier.  I wasn't kidding.  Seeing the sunrise over these hills is a spiritual experience.

The first time I ran on this course, I couldn't believe this was just 7 or so hours from my house.  These peaks are breathtaking - literally and figuratively.  So, despite the coyotes that we hear all night before the race when we are camping in the park, the scorpions that remind you to keep your shoes on, the rocks, cactus, sotol grass, and the real possibility of running up on a rattle snake, this is by far my favorite race course so far.  Or maybe it is because of these things that it is my favorite.  It is pure, authentic, and unchanged for who knows how many years.  This race teaches you alot about yourself.  Last year it took me 2.5 hours longer to run this 50 miler than my other 50 milers.  I do a lot of soul searching along these trails.  Because the course is so spread out, last year I ran most of the second half of the race completely alone.  Not another runner in sight except when I would crest a hill and see a little dot running way ahead of or behind me.

There was no one there to encourage me, or give me advice. I had to find my own motivation to move forward, and I had to make the right decisions to allow me to do so.  I am really looking forward to this race.  I will be sharing the trails with local friends - Jessica, Brad, Bobbi, Teddi, Lane and Fred.  (Lane and Fred are twice as stupid as I am - they are doing the 100 miler!)  I am planning on running the race alone - it is what I prefer for ultras - but it will be great to know all of these people are out there working towards an amazing goal, and it is always a nice surprise when you get to cross paths with a familiar face.

So, the remaining of my training before CR looks like this:

This week and next - 50 miles

Rest week - 39 miles

Two weeks of 64 miles

Taper week of 36 miles

Race week of 62 miles

I am trying something new this season, shortening my taper from two weeks to one for 50 miles or under.  We'll see how it goes.  If I am feeling beat up for that second 64 mile week, I will shave a little off.  Better to go into a race slightly undertrained, than overtrained and injured.  In my opinion (of course).

Happy Running, Y'all!

Edie

  

Can't decide on the title for this race report. Either "Flat and Fast My Ass" or "What the Hell Was I Thinking?"

Well, I expected this to be a tough race, and I was right.  But, as always, there are lessons to be learned.  I drove into Clinton, Mississippi, on Friday afternoon, and arrived just in time for the packet pick-up.  Many of you may have been to the packet pickups for half and whole marathons, and they look something like this:

This is what I was used to before I started doing trail ultra marathons. In contrast, this was the packet pickup for the Big Butts 50k:

Notice anything different?

And this is the kind of stuff you could expect to find in a marathon packet:

And for Big Butts, this is what we found in the packets:

We run so that these will never fit.

Granted, we also got a really cool micro fiber sweat towel, and a tech t, but the ginormous undies were the highlight.

In an earlier post, I mentioned that the reason I do all of this training is because I LOVE the race environment at trail ultras, and that was just re-confirmed at this race.  It started when I got to my hotel, which was about a mile from the race start, and was one of the two host hotels for the race.  Before I even got out of my car to check in, I could spot the ultra runners.  They are super fit, but slightly disheveled.  They carry themselves with a quiet confidence.  These are very talented athletes, minus any ego you may find in other extreme sports event.  You see more than your share of cargo shorts, sandals, and race t's.  There is also alot of handshaking and back slapping among the runners who recognize each other from other races they have done together. The ultra running community is small.  It is odd to go to any race near your home and not recognize people you have run alongside in the past.

In the last few days before the race, one of my trail running buddies and best friends, Christina Gravish, decided she would like to give it a shot.  She was definitely well trained for the race, it was just a matter of sweet talking the RD to let her in.  It didn't happen, but being the laid back guy that he is, and being that it is a public park, he said that although she could not officially participate, he gave her permission to bandit the race.  Yay!  I would have a buddy to suffer with!!

When we went to the race site for packet pickup, we noticed that there were NO park bathrooms.  There were also NO porta potties brought in for the race.  With this being a trail race, it wasn't like you could just duck into a McD's along the course either.  Can you say "One with nature"?  So, the idea of toweling off in the park bathroom sink was out the window.  Thankfully, my crew included Eric Gravish, King Supreme Take Care of Problems guy.  We went to Walmart and picked up string and a tarp, and I grabbed a few gallon jugs of water later that night. From this he fashioned our own private shower stall. Its good to have handy friends!!

Race morning was pretty laid back, as usual.  I got to see Lane and Erica from Pineville.  Lane is an excellent runner, but we both knew that this was going to be a tough one. Lane's pictures tell the story:

                

From the peak of fitness and health to on the verge of heat illness.  Everyone suffered in this race.

So, when it was about 8:00, we lined up at the start line - well, technically there wasn't a starting line.  The RD drew one in the dirt with his shoe and said. "Start here".  He gave us brief instructions about the course, and we were off.

There were runners doing the 50k (31 miles) and the 100k (62 miles).  There were a total of 80 runners on the course, 17 of which were attempting the 100k, which no one finished last year.  The course was a 6 mile loop, and after 5 loops for the 50k, there was a 1 mile out and back (on pavement - in the full sun - in the middle of the afternoon - after you had already suffered through 30 hot trail miles). The 100k'ers had 10 loops then a 2 mile out and back. Who says RD's aren't sadistic?  

The race started at almost 80 degrees and 96% humidity.  From the beginning, it was a struggle to keep my heart rate down.  We kept pretty even splits for every lap, with very little deterioration until the last lap when cramping and nausea set in.

The first 3 loops were a battle against the humidity.  We knew these would be tough, but the plan was to bank some time on these loops before it got hot.  (Get the sarcasm?  It was almost 80 degrees and 96% humidity at the start.  It was NEVER cool.  We were sweating standing at the "start line".) One of my fellow runners posted on the race site afterwards "The first 3 laps were like running in a sauna, the last 2 were like running in an oven".  Pretty much.

If fitness models were as tough as Christina,
this is what they would look like.

But, we stuck to the plan, and it worked out as well as it could.  Things didn't start to think about falling apart until the last lap.  This is where the cramps, side stitches and dry heaves started.  But, we knew what to do.  We backed off on the pace in the exposed areas, and tried to push it a reasonable amount in the shade.  We poured water over our heads and down our shirts.  We took salt, and drank lots of water.  And, WE MADE IT back to the start/finish for the 30 mile mark.  This is where Christina made the very wise decision to end her long run. She had been fighting nausea for the entire last loop, and since she wasn't an official participant, there was no official time for her and no post race schwag, so there was NO reason for her to do the 1 mile out and back on pavement and in the full sun at almost 3:00 in the afternoon.  She left that to the stupid people.  So, off I went.

This last mile SUCKED.  It was one of the longest miles I have ever run.  After 30 miles of steep climbs and descents and shoe-sucking, slippery mud,  hitting the pavement and feeling the heat radiate from the road while the sun beat the tar out of you from above was a special kind of torture.  On the 1/2 mile out, every turn was followed by disappointment when I didn't see the turn around sign.  All perspective of distance was gone.  When I finally saw the little white "TURN AROUND" sign, I had to laugh out loud.  There was no one anywhere near to see that you actually made it to the sign before you turned around.  In fact, there were no race officials on the out and back at all.  You could conceivably have rounded the first turn, sat down for a bit, then headed back in and no one would have known but you and God.  Guess that's all I needed to know to make me run just a few steps past the sign before heading back.

Before the race, my loose goal was to finish under 6:30.  When things went awry in the last lap, I amended that to sub 7:00.  When I reached the turn around, I looked at my watch and saw that I had about 12 minutes to spare before it hit the 7 hour mark.  I would be hard pressed not to make it a half of a mile in 12 minutes, so I slowed my pace some to avoid puking on my own shoes as I crossed the finish line.

And finish I did - in 6:53:30.  I was 6th overall female, 3rd in my age group, and 29th overall.  And what did I get for all that effort and pain?

What do you mean there's no margarita in it???

My favorite part - how the sun looks a little "off",
and the fact that "YOU FINISHED" is a big deal.

For this particular brand of stupidity, this is exactly what I would expect.  A mug to hold hot beverages.  The age group winners received jars of homemade pickles, and the winner of the 100k got a sweatshirt.  Not the kind of race that attracts medal collectors.  This is about memories and pride in the fact that you somehow survived to tell the tale.

31 miles in the heat and humidity of late July
in Mississippi over tough trails.
What's next?  Bring it on!!

So, it was into our makeshift shower stall (thanks again Eric!) to rinse off and drive home - about 4.5 hours.  A little longer when you have to stop to walk out cramps :).  Even as we were walking away from the finish line, Christina and I looked at each other and smiled and agreed that that was a horrible yet amazing experience that I am so glad we were able to share.  What a blessing to have friends that you can suffer with.  That is when you as a person are strengthened, and when your friendships are cemented.

Regardless of how tough the race was, quitting was never an option.  As I have said before, when it comes to these races, I make a plan and try to stick to it.  When that doesn't work out (it rarely does), I amend the plan, and try to stick to the new one.  This can happen many times during a race.  But, the plan NEVER includes giving myself the option to quit.  If I ever do DNF, it will be caused by injury or illness, not just from being tired of being tired.

So, there you have it folks.  My first and probably last time doing this race.  I say probably because I can be talked into a whole lot of stupidity by friends, so I can't rule it out.  But, stupidity shared makes for great memories!!

Happy Running!

Edie

Oh yeah - and if you are wondering if any of the 17 that signed up for the 100k finished it??  4 people did.  The winner of last years 50k, Sarah Woerner, won the 100k this year with a time of 10:49.  This was almost a two hour lead over the other 3 finishers (all men).  WooHoo!!  GO GIRL!!

Bringing them over to the darkside!!

The coolest thing is starting to happen!  More and more otherwise sane folks are becoming ultrarunners!  Here are some local folks who have moved into ultra distance races:

50k Finishers (31 miles)

Tim Sharlow

Jess Russo 

Tyla Hudspeth

50 Milers

Jessica Amy, Jara Ahrabi, Bobbi Parker, Denise Kidder

100 K'ers (62 miles)

Fred Arsement (left)

Nathan Shull

Jim Winter

100 Milers

Smitty Smith, Me, Keith Manuel, Brad Delcambre

Donald Cleveland (left), Lane Gremillion (right)

Really Bad Ass 100 miler

John Powers (right) - John has run 20 - 100 milers,
and has more on the schedule for this season.
HE is a true BADASS!!

These are all fairly normal people.  Chances are, if you are from the Acadiana area, you have some degree of connection to one or more of them.  They started out as beginners sucking wind for their first one mile run, just like everyone else.  The difference with them is that they didn't stop there.  All of these ultra runners have full time jobs and families.  They all have the same responsibilities that you do, and the same 24 hours in each day in which to get things done.  The only difference is the way they budget their time, and the dedication that they have for the sport.

I had to laugh recently at the study from the Mayo Clinic that said that ultrarunning can be detrimental to your health. (Excessive Endurance Training Can Be Too Much of a Good Thing, Research Suggests)  While I respect the research put into the article (even though there seemed to be quite a few statements like: "excessive exercise can lead to rhythm abnormalities" and "excessive sustained exercise may also be associated with coronary artery calcification"), what the Mayo Clinic fails to understand is what motivates many endurance athletes.  

I don't do ultramarathons to become healthy.  I am already healthy.  All of the people in the pictures above were healthy before they began running ultras.  As a friend (Jessica Amy)  wisely said about her reason for running ultras, it's not about adding quantity to your life, its about adding quality to your life. (Read Jessica's open letter to the Mayo Clinic in response to this study, here). 

The point of this post is not to tell you that everyone should run ultras.  This sport is not for everyone.  Just like how I don't do triathlons because I swim like a brick, not everyone is suited to running for up to 30 hours at a time.  The point of this post is to show you that ultras are not filled with super-human people doing impossible things.  Ultras are filled with normal people pushing their limits and achieving some amazing things.  Running ultras parallels life in many ways.  A 50 or 100 mile race is not about crossing the finish line, it is about all of the hard work and dedication that goes into the effort to get there, the relationships that are formed, and the experience that is gained from the moment you decide to go beyond the marathon distance.  It's not about the destination, its about the journey.

Edie