Poor Decisions Make for Better Stories
My friend Billy wanted to do a 50M. And not just any 50M; one of the hardest 50M (56M) races. I was still riding the post-Ironbaby high (that time I did an indoor 140.6 by myself) so I happily agreed to join him in GA in May.
Never mind that I don't have many hills where I live. To get a nice hike in, it's about an hour drive. And that state park is closed for most of the training months since it's winter in Wisconsin.
My training consisted of hill running with snowshoes on whenever I had the chance, hill repeats in general and lots of stair climbing, mixed with high-incline runs and fast walks. The entire training period, I had a lot of doubts. I had days when I knew I was going to crush it and those training days when I thought the race will crush me and I'll end up as the sherpa. And for a time, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to do this race due to health issues. I think that was what I needed to fuel that fire. Every athlete knows that feeling, right? Tell us we can't do something and it suddenly becomes the only goal for us.
I got the go-ahead and then 2 days later, my friend told me he broke his toe.
It was going to be a hot mess, but it was going to be an adventure. And I knew I had the best running partner with me that day; he is just as determined and crazy I am. To top it off, we had Gerry, aka GerBear, as our sherpa. "Gerpa"
After a day of traveling, I met up with Billy and Gerry for dinner. If you read my Ironman Chattanooga recap, you may recall that I met these two guys in the hotel pool. Quick recap: the swim portion was canceled so I went down to the hotel pool to see if lap swimming was even a possibility (it was). During that time, I saw these two guys with Ironman shirts on size up the pool. So I did what I do best, insert myself into conversations. "If you guys are wondering if laps can be done here, yes. We just need to get permission." They said they'll talk to the manager and get permission. Sweet~ other crazy athletes willing to do the swim with me. 3 of us were in the hotel pool doing laps at 4am before the race started. Billy was also the friend who arranged for Mike Reilly to call me after I finished my "Ironbaby".
It was so great to see them again. Back at it with another crazy race weekend.Our Gerpa took his duties seriously. This amazing man made his own booklet and had everything organized. He wanted to make this race as easy as possible for us, starting even before the race started.
As I settled in for the night, I decided to scroll through Facebook to wind down. It was then I found out about the passing of someone I'd known and had the honor of spending some time with last summer. She left a huge imprint in my life. I admired her strength as she rebounded from cancer and worked on getting back to "normal" life. We talked a lot about music and she walked me through some of the bands that she and my own daughter listened to. She was the epitome of "beautiful inside and out". She'd passed away the night before. I was wrecked. I couldn't believe it. How could she be gone? How could someone so strong, clever, smart and loving be taken? She was so young. And her family... my heart just ached for them. I wanted nothing more than to go home and hug my own kids. I wa ndered about my hotel room and tried to get my shit together.
I managed to get some sleep but she consumed my thoughts. Today's miles were for her. It won't bring her back. It won't bring peace to her family. But I had to do something as a tribute to her. I knew that any pain I felt during this race wouldn't even be close to what she went through or the pain her family was feeling. I just wanted to honor her.
As we drove up to the start, we saw the 100 milers make their way to the same place. They had started the day before, starting at the finish to the 50M start before heading back. We took our time heading out once the race started. Easily, one of the best part of ultras. No one's in a rush - we know we have all day. And night. And most of the following day.
Our strategy was to run the flat parts of the course, walk/hike the hills and take the downhills carefully. The time flew by even if the miles didn't. As promised, the trekking poles were out from the start and never got put away. The climbs were monstrous and the downhills were sketchy. You couldn't divert your eyes for a moment during the descents.
We met and ran with Bob for a while. He'd ran part of this course last year but didn't make it past 30 miles. His wife and his daughter had a bet going this year to see when he'll call them for a ride. We got separated at some point but we would continue to meet up throughout the race.
The course was gorgeous. At one point, we were running alongside a river where people were tubing and drinking -- torture. It'd been 12 hours on our feet and it was in the 80s. A little warmer than this Wisconsinite had been used to running in lately. I thought of M often. I cried silently as I replayed some of our conversations and the songs she used to sing. I may have been tired but thinking of her gave me the boost throughout the day and night.
Seeing our GerBear aka Gerpa was always a treat. He met us out on the trails from the aid stations a few times and got our spirits up, just when we needed it. I told Billy I'm getting completely spoiled with our Sherpa of the Year - racing by myself is going to be a drag from now on.
It was finally getting dark out and we were excited about running with only the headlamp as our light - adding to the adventure!! It didn't take long before we decided that it was not as fun as we were expecting it to be. The terrain was tough as it was - trying to climb and descend was a nightmare. We were well past 12hours and our minds & sights were messing with us.
"Wow, that was fast," I said. "What?" "Oh, so you didn't see that. I wondered why you didn't yell out when it ran past your feet, "I replied. "WHAT?" "It was SO FAST, " I said as I laughed out loud. We both had to stop and just laugh at this point. We were exhausted. We often paused to straighten up and drop into low squats to keep our back and hips happy. I wasn't sure how my arms were going to feel the next day. At some points, all of my weight was on the poles to push myself up the inclines.
It was pretty scary out there. I told Billy that if I were alone out here, I don't know if I'd be able to continue. It was pitch black minus the headlamp. There was no one else around and you're in the middle of the mountains in GA. Anything could happen and if you were hurt, it could be hours before someone reached you. Shortly after I said this, I saw a headlamp coming up behind me. I yelled out, "If you need to get ahead, just let us know!" A female voice called out, "No, I'm just glad to have caught up to you guys. It was scary by myself." Uh yeah. I told her she's staying with us and that's that. Rina was perfectly content with that. Bob wasn't too far behind her so we had a nice little group going for the rest of the race.
]
Once we reached the next aid station, my stomach was done. I tried to force some pretzels down but all I wanted was some broth. I knew it would be about 3 hours before the next station so I asked for a baggie to take some food with me. Fun fact, people in GA apparently don't call them baggies. Here's how the conversation went:
Me: Can I have a baggie to take food with me?
Volunteer: Umm what?
Me: Do you have a baggie?
V: .... what?
Me: Do you have a baggie....?
V: Say it again.
Billy: Beg-gie?
Yes, ziploc bags. We call them baggies.
We left the aid station to trek towards the next station. We only 2 more to go after this but they were going to be hours away. I tried to focus on only 2 left before the finish. By 2:30am, my body started revolting. I was so nauseous that I was dry-heaving. Standing, climbing, sitting -- none of it helped. Rina insisted I eat something so I choked down a piece of a hot dog. I just wanted to curl up and sleep.
By this time, I had to keep conversations going. My mind was wondering to dark places, dark images and seeing things in the corner of my eyes. I also had trouble keeping my eyes open during the descents. I was so hyper-focused on the trail and rocks to avoid that my eyes would glaze over and any long blinks would cause me to nod off. I woke up startled too many times as my foot slipped on a rock.
About an hour into this portion, another runner came towards us. We were all confused but it turned out, he'd gone the wrong way after he reached the aid station we were going towards. That was almost 3 hours he hiked in the dark by himself -- and he was going to have to do it again. For the 3rd time since he was a 100M runner. I flat out said I would've curled up and cried and have someone come and get me. He still beat us to the finish by the way! When we finally reached the other aid station about 4 hours later, we found out he'd fallen asleep on the trail and got turned around.
My stomach was still unhappy so I settled for some Ramen and whatever solid food my body wouldn't throw back up. I didn't want to spend too much time at the Fire Pit. It was too comfortable and I was too tired to fight the temptation to take a nod off. For the rest of the event.
We did stop a lot along the way. Our bodies were beyond fatigued. Billy's broken toe had prevented him from running any flat parts by this time. We were in our own personal hells. Rina started panicking about the ledge as we climbed. She cried out, "Help me!!" and my heart stopped. She was fine. She realized the left side was a drop and that she was terrified of heights. She was literally climbing on her hands and knees. I stayed behind as we talked through it. I reassured her she was fine. Point the light to the right side and place your weight to the right as well.
Around 5:30am, I decided to turn my phone on again to see if my husband was trying to get ahold of me. His text read, "... Hope/assume you're asleep and resting after the race!" I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Still had about 6 miles to go, which was forever in this course (or close to 3 hours).
The sun finally came up and my eyes messed with me even more. I was so sure I'd seen a white tent. I figured that was the next aid station (though it seemed too soon). And then it morphed into a luxury beach tent with pillows - everything pristine and white. As we came nearer, I realized they were just trees. There was no tent. I kept seeing white shadows in the corner of my eye.
At this time, I realized I haven't checked in for my flight yet. It was THAT day. I also needed to find out when I needed to check out of my hotel and get the car back to the rental place. It was a lot of panic at a time when my brain was not functioning well. Once we reached the water station, we only had 3.7 miles left. My panic was at an all-time high and I told Billy we need to go and as I got up, determined to get to the finish ASAP, the log I stepped on broke and my foot went into the creek. Awesome. Why not. Let's finish with a bang.
I fuel well with anger and panic so I got my 2nd wind - I booked it. The hills weren't much of a problem for me. I was on a mission .... and then realized I left Billy and Bob behind me somewhere. Billy was apologetic. He didn't think it'd take us this long and I'd be cutting it so close with my flight time. I said I didn't even do my homework and check everyone's finish times - I was angry at myself for not doing the basic. I SHOULD have stuck to my original plan of staying one more day. I should've checked... I'm at fault for my own lack of actions. And I felt horrible for rushing us when I knew his toe was beyond throbbing. His toe was broken and he'd made it to almost 56 miles - and I was forcing us to push it hard to the finish.
We got onto the road to the finish and saw our beloved Gerpa. Billy and I were so over it by then. "Come on, the finish is around the corner! You gotta run!" GerBear said. "I'll attempt to run once I actually see the finish line." I was so over it. And we did. We finished the damn race. 24:18 finish time. We were given our belts and we posed at the finish line. And yes, I smacked Billy's ass with my belt "He got me into this mess." when onlookers looked at me in shock (and a bit of humor).
We rushed out of there and got to the hotel where we said a quick goodbye. I showered quickly, removing layers of dirt and mud off of myself. I took about 10 min to pack up everything - throwing all of the used gear in baggies. Showered, packed and out of the hotel in 30 minutes. I was worried about the 90 min drive to the airport. I'd been awake for over 30 hours and exhausted. I ended up having to pull over every 20 minutes to wake myself up, even if it was just to go to a gas station and walk around the car. Looking crazy, pretty much.
I made it to the car drop off, found the sky train to the airport, go through TSA -- and Lord help the TSA agent who opened up my luggage because of scissors -- and get to my gate in time. Early enough that I was able to walk it off a bit before the flight. Once I boarded and was given instructions (Exit seat), I was out. I power napped the 2 hours and woke up feeling like a brand new person.
The rest of the ride home - another 90min- was a breeze. My legs felt pretty good getting in and out of the car and then home, walking up the stairs. I tried to play it cool with my kids - teenagers. I just wanted to hold them and tell them how much I love them. I'm sure I just made it all awkward, as usual.
It's finally sinking in. The hardest race I had this season is done -- we freaking finished. There were tons of DNFs at this race and it's easy to see why. During the race, Billy and I talked about taking the summer off from racing. I was good if I were to never run again. But already on the ride back home, I was psyched about coming back next year. It was an epic day. It's a day I'll never forget. And M, you'll never be forgotten. I'll think of you every time I listen to the songs on the playlist we put together for you.
Never mind that I don't have many hills where I live. To get a nice hike in, it's about an hour drive. And that state park is closed for most of the training months since it's winter in Wisconsin.
My training consisted of hill running with snowshoes on whenever I had the chance, hill repeats in general and lots of stair climbing, mixed with high-incline runs and fast walks. The entire training period, I had a lot of doubts. I had days when I knew I was going to crush it and those training days when I thought the race will crush me and I'll end up as the sherpa. And for a time, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to do this race due to health issues. I think that was what I needed to fuel that fire. Every athlete knows that feeling, right? Tell us we can't do something and it suddenly becomes the only goal for us.
I got the go-ahead and then 2 days later, my friend told me he broke his toe.
It was going to be a hot mess, but it was going to be an adventure. And I knew I had the best running partner with me that day; he is just as determined and crazy I am. To top it off, we had Gerry, aka GerBear, as our sherpa. "Gerpa"
By the water, where it all started.
After a day of traveling, I met up with Billy and Gerry for dinner. If you read my Ironman Chattanooga recap, you may recall that I met these two guys in the hotel pool. Quick recap: the swim portion was canceled so I went down to the hotel pool to see if lap swimming was even a possibility (it was). During that time, I saw these two guys with Ironman shirts on size up the pool. So I did what I do best, insert myself into conversations. "If you guys are wondering if laps can be done here, yes. We just need to get permission." They said they'll talk to the manager and get permission. Sweet~ other crazy athletes willing to do the swim with me. 3 of us were in the hotel pool doing laps at 4am before the race started. Billy was also the friend who arranged for Mike Reilly to call me after I finished my "Ironbaby".
It was so great to see them again. Back at it with another crazy race weekend.Our Gerpa took his duties seriously. This amazing man made his own booklet and had everything organized. He wanted to make this race as easy as possible for us, starting even before the race started.As I settled in for the night, I decided to scroll through Facebook to wind down. It was then I found out about the passing of someone I'd known and had the honor of spending some time with last summer. She left a huge imprint in my life. I admired her strength as she rebounded from cancer and worked on getting back to "normal" life. We talked a lot about music and she walked me through some of the bands that she and my own daughter listened to. She was the epitome of "beautiful inside and out". She'd passed away the night before. I was wrecked. I couldn't believe it. How could she be gone? How could someone so strong, clever, smart and loving be taken? She was so young. And her family... my heart just ached for them. I wanted nothing more than to go home and hug my own kids. I wa ndered about my hotel room and tried to get my shit together.
I managed to get some sleep but she consumed my thoughts. Today's miles were for her. It won't bring her back. It won't bring peace to her family. But I had to do something as a tribute to her. I knew that any pain I felt during this race wouldn't even be close to what she went through or the pain her family was feeling. I just wanted to honor her.
 |
| Waiting for the start |
 |
Sunscreen after the start |
Our strategy was to run the flat parts of the course, walk/hike the hills and take the downhills carefully. The time flew by even if the miles didn't. As promised, the trekking poles were out from the start and never got put away. The climbs were monstrous and the downhills were sketchy. You couldn't divert your eyes for a moment during the descents.
We met and ran with Bob for a while. He'd ran part of this course last year but didn't make it past 30 miles. His wife and his daughter had a bet going this year to see when he'll call them for a ride. We got separated at some point but we would continue to meet up throughout the race.
The course was gorgeous. At one point, we were running alongside a river where people were tubing and drinking -- torture. It'd been 12 hours on our feet and it was in the 80s. A little warmer than this Wisconsinite had been used to running in lately. I thought of M often. I cried silently as I replayed some of our conversations and the songs she used to sing. I may have been tired but thinking of her gave me the boost throughout the day and night.
My crew!
Squat breaks throughout the day
It was finally getting dark out and we were excited about running with only the headlamp as our light - adding to the adventure!! It didn't take long before we decided that it was not as fun as we were expecting it to be. The terrain was tough as it was - trying to climb and descend was a nightmare. We were well past 12hours and our minds & sights were messing with us.
Beer helps
It was pretty scary out there. I told Billy that if I were alone out here, I don't know if I'd be able to continue. It was pitch black minus the headlamp. There was no one else around and you're in the middle of the mountains in GA. Anything could happen and if you were hurt, it could be hours before someone reached you. Shortly after I said this, I saw a headlamp coming up behind me. I yelled out, "If you need to get ahead, just let us know!" A female voice called out, "No, I'm just glad to have caught up to you guys. It was scary by myself." Uh yeah. I told her she's staying with us and that's that. Rina was perfectly content with that. Bob wasn't too far behind her so we had a nice little group going for the rest of the race.
]
Me and my baggie: hot dog, bun, skittles
Once we reached the next aid station, my stomach was done. I tried to force some pretzels down but all I wanted was some broth. I knew it would be about 3 hours before the next station so I asked for a baggie to take some food with me. Fun fact, people in GA apparently don't call them baggies. Here's how the conversation went:
Me: Can I have a baggie to take food with me?
Volunteer: Umm what?
Me: Do you have a baggie?
V: .... what?
Me: Do you have a baggie....?
V: Say it again.
Billy: Beg-gie?
Yes, ziploc bags. We call them baggies.
Trespassers will be prostituted
We left the aid station to trek towards the next station. We only 2 more to go after this but they were going to be hours away. I tried to focus on only 2 left before the finish. By 2:30am, my body started revolting. I was so nauseous that I was dry-heaving. Standing, climbing, sitting -- none of it helped. Rina insisted I eat something so I choked down a piece of a hot dog. I just wanted to curl up and sleep.
Development in the woods
By this time, I had to keep conversations going. My mind was wondering to dark places, dark images and seeing things in the corner of my eyes. I also had trouble keeping my eyes open during the descents. I was so hyper-focused on the trail and rocks to avoid that my eyes would glaze over and any long blinks would cause me to nod off. I woke up startled too many times as my foot slipped on a rock.
About an hour into this portion, another runner came towards us. We were all confused but it turned out, he'd gone the wrong way after he reached the aid station we were going towards. That was almost 3 hours he hiked in the dark by himself -- and he was going to have to do it again. For the 3rd time since he was a 100M runner. I flat out said I would've curled up and cried and have someone come and get me. He still beat us to the finish by the way! When we finally reached the other aid station about 4 hours later, we found out he'd fallen asleep on the trail and got turned around.
Pop a squat
My stomach was still unhappy so I settled for some Ramen and whatever solid food my body wouldn't throw back up. I didn't want to spend too much time at the Fire Pit. It was too comfortable and I was too tired to fight the temptation to take a nod off. For the rest of the event.
We did stop a lot along the way. Our bodies were beyond fatigued. Billy's broken toe had prevented him from running any flat parts by this time. We were in our own personal hells. Rina started panicking about the ledge as we climbed. She cried out, "Help me!!" and my heart stopped. She was fine. She realized the left side was a drop and that she was terrified of heights. She was literally climbing on her hands and knees. I stayed behind as we talked through it. I reassured her she was fine. Point the light to the right side and place your weight to the right as well.
Around 5:30am, I decided to turn my phone on again to see if my husband was trying to get ahold of me. His text read, "... Hope/assume you're asleep and resting after the race!" I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Still had about 6 miles to go, which was forever in this course (or close to 3 hours).
The sun finally came up and my eyes messed with me even more. I was so sure I'd seen a white tent. I figured that was the next aid station (though it seemed too soon). And then it morphed into a luxury beach tent with pillows - everything pristine and white. As we came nearer, I realized they were just trees. There was no tent. I kept seeing white shadows in the corner of my eye.
An imprint of headlamp after 10+ on my forehead
At this time, I realized I haven't checked in for my flight yet. It was THAT day. I also needed to find out when I needed to check out of my hotel and get the car back to the rental place. It was a lot of panic at a time when my brain was not functioning well. Once we reached the water station, we only had 3.7 miles left. My panic was at an all-time high and I told Billy we need to go and as I got up, determined to get to the finish ASAP, the log I stepped on broke and my foot went into the creek. Awesome. Why not. Let's finish with a bang.
I fuel well with anger and panic so I got my 2nd wind - I booked it. The hills weren't much of a problem for me. I was on a mission .... and then realized I left Billy and Bob behind me somewhere. Billy was apologetic. He didn't think it'd take us this long and I'd be cutting it so close with my flight time. I said I didn't even do my homework and check everyone's finish times - I was angry at myself for not doing the basic. I SHOULD have stuck to my original plan of staying one more day. I should've checked... I'm at fault for my own lack of actions. And I felt horrible for rushing us when I knew his toe was beyond throbbing. His toe was broken and he'd made it to almost 56 miles - and I was forcing us to push it hard to the finish.
We got onto the road to the finish and saw our beloved Gerpa. Billy and I were so over it by then. "Come on, the finish is around the corner! You gotta run!" GerBear said. "I'll attempt to run once I actually see the finish line." I was so over it. And we did. We finished the damn race. 24:18 finish time. We were given our belts and we posed at the finish line. And yes, I smacked Billy's ass with my belt "He got me into this mess." when onlookers looked at me in shock (and a bit of humor).
After the belt slap
We rushed out of there and got to the hotel where we said a quick goodbye. I showered quickly, removing layers of dirt and mud off of myself. I took about 10 min to pack up everything - throwing all of the used gear in baggies. Showered, packed and out of the hotel in 30 minutes. I was worried about the 90 min drive to the airport. I'd been awake for over 30 hours and exhausted. I ended up having to pull over every 20 minutes to wake myself up, even if it was just to go to a gas station and walk around the car. Looking crazy, pretty much.
I made it to the car drop off, found the sky train to the airport, go through TSA -- and Lord help the TSA agent who opened up my luggage because of scissors -- and get to my gate in time. Early enough that I was able to walk it off a bit before the flight. Once I boarded and was given instructions (Exit seat), I was out. I power napped the 2 hours and woke up feeling like a brand new person.
The rest of the ride home - another 90min- was a breeze. My legs felt pretty good getting in and out of the car and then home, walking up the stairs. I tried to play it cool with my kids - teenagers. I just wanted to hold them and tell them how much I love them. I'm sure I just made it all awkward, as usual.
It's finally sinking in. The hardest race I had this season is done -- we freaking finished. There were tons of DNFs at this race and it's easy to see why. During the race, Billy and I talked about taking the summer off from racing. I was good if I were to never run again. But already on the ride back home, I was psyched about coming back next year. It was an epic day. It's a day I'll never forget. And M, you'll never be forgotten. I'll think of you every time I listen to the songs on the playlist we put together for you.
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