Stone Steps 50k

October 24th

My decision to run Stone Steps came to me somewhere around mile 15 of the Chicago Marathon. I then had 11 more miles to figure out how to convince Matt to run with me, and see if I could lure anyone else in to the trap. I knew Matt wouldn’t take much convincing, but what I didn’t expect was a willing compliance from Chris, a virgin ultra runner. As fate would have it, I ran in to Chris in the finish area who expressed his race was less than stellar. Matt soon stumbled through muttering a similar sentiment. We all sat on the ground on the completely unnecessary milar blanket pondering the race and how we would salvage our training. And then it happened, I made my move. “You know, you can run a 50k off of marathon training…”. They took the bait- hook, line, and sinker. Chris signed up from his hotel room, while Matt and I signed up in the airport on our cell phones. The race filled the day we registered, so I knew we were meant to tackle Stone Steps together.

Fast forward 2 weeks…

Saturday morning Matt and I piled our gear in the car and made the 6 hour drive to Columbus, where we had reservations for the guest bed and couch at Chris and Stevi’s house. Not only was Chris willing to run with us, but he was willing to put us up for the weekend. I only hoped he would still let us sleep there after the race. We were treated to the requisite pasta dinner and obligatory bottle of wine that must be consumed before a race, as a sacrifice to the gods of glycogen…or nerves.

We spent 30 minutes prepping our fuel for the race, stuffing pharmacy bags with candy corn, candy pumpkins, and shot blocks. Stevi constructed our PB&J sandwiches with Matt fulfilling the supervisory role of an engineer. After a brief debate as to how we should cut the sandwiches, we agreed on diagonal slices as it had more adequate bite distribution than its horizontal cohort. Chris came by to criticize Stevi’s excessive use of jelly,  but agreed on the angle at which the sandwiches were cut. 

We managed to get to bed at a respectable hour, and I slept soundly as I was completely under the influence of Tylenol PM.

Race Day

I groggily opened my eyes and checked the time, 4:45. Good, I have 15 more minutes to sleep. I hear voices outside of my room, and pounding on the door. Matt asks if I’m awake, and I grumble “it’s not even 5!!”. He replies that we are LEAVING at 5. I suddenly realize that in my state of drug-induced drowsiness, I set my alarm for the time we were leaving instead of the time I should wake up. I leap out of bed and throw on my race clothes, and yell out for someone to please toast my bagel. Fear not, fellow blog readers, my extraordinary ability to slide by on the fly extends to even the most unprecedented situations. I was ready by 5:00 and managed to forget nothing, though I had a more concentrated amount of honey dripping on me due to stuffing my face with a peanut butter & honey bagel.

We all piled back in the car and made the 2 hour drive to Cincinnati with our crew captain Stevi and her assistant, Jinx. We pulled in to Mt. Airy National Forest and soon found a parking spot and managed to not hit any of the runners standing in the road in the early morning darkness. We got our bibs situated and stood in line for the bathrooms, which only had 1 stall. This was probably my biggest complaint about the race—they really needed a couple of porta-potties to compensate for the amount of runners and spectators. 

Me, Matt & Chris

I quickly washed down a Gu at 7:45, then the RD called all of the 50k runners to huddle around for the pre-race brief. The course consisted of a figure 8 that would loop through the race HQ pavilion essentially in the middle of the figure 8. The big loop was 5ish miles (I think they claimed 5.3 miles) and the small loop was around 3.2 miles. That meant we would be hitting the aid station every 5.5 and 3 miles, which was great. We’d have access to all of our gear, and could easily adjust whatever strategies needed tweaking. Our fuel would be accessible, and best of all…we’d see Stevi and Jinx plenty of times.

The RD explained that we have to cross the timing mat after finishing every loop, and then pointed in a general direction behind his head and shouted “GO!”. Matt and I were really confused, because we thought we had to start by crossing the timing mat, you know, like most normal races. Instead we followed the herd of runners as they took off down a grassy slope and began disappearing through the woods. Chris was bending over tying his shoes when the race started, so he had to dodge around runners to catch us. 

And we're off!

Soon we entered the singletrack and started focusing our attention on the treacherous terrain. I was behind a lanky guy in a red shirt with a hydration waste pack, and tried to give him some room so I could see the ground in front of me. Matt and Chris fell in behind me, and we spent the first few minutes of the race in silent concentration. 

The weather was cool, a breezy 60 degrees that somehow felt more like 50. We were all worried about the weather, as the high was expected to be in the 80s. So far things were looking good though, so I tried not to worry about what would happen in the next few hours.

I was pleasantly surprised that my legs were feeling so springy. I was tempted to pass the red shirt guy, but I knew that was foolish and we were all better off keeping things under control. The first 2.2ish miles were a very fast downhill, but the terrain was rather tricky at times. I felt more confident in my footing than I ever had, but was still cautious with my approach. There were a few minor climbs, but we didn’t bother walking.

Around mile 3 we came across the dreaded stone steps. Later when I checked my watch’s elevation profile I would learn that it was a 38% grade to the top of the steps. Everyone tucked their head down and plugged away until we had cleared the last step, and then resumed running. 

My legs felt dead for the first couple hundred feet after the climb, but they soon cooperated with a nice downhill segment. There were more rolling hills, up and down, over and over, until we reached Gummy Bear Hill. The first part of Gummy B. is a long, steep, slick downhill. The steepness was enough to give some of the less confident runners pause before running down it, but the terrain added even more technical skill requirements. The rocks and roots seemed to be placed exactly where I wanted to step, but I somehow managed to make it down unscathed. After surviving the downhill portion, it seemed like we crested around the side of the hill only to come right back up. On this climb my watch was boasting a 41% grade, which would explain why my lungs were about to explode by the time I reached the top.

On the slow climb up I was able to look around a little, and I realized that we lost Chris somewhere along the way. I felt bad since I dragged him in to this, but I knew he’d run his own race and be better off for it. I was momentarily distracted from the climb when I noticed a bowl of gummy bears sitting randomly on the side of the hill. Yippee! I grabbed a couple and kept pushing up the hill. 

Matt and I made it to the top and were rewarded by seeing the 5 mile marker on a tree. That meant we were very close to the aid station, and our first loop would be complete. I caught my first glimpse of a girl up ahead of us, but it was too early in the race to care who is ahead of whom. The trail out of the woods and back to the pavilion was smooth and mostly flat. We pushed up one last hill and breezed in to the aid station.

1^st Big Loop- 49:25 (9:20 pace)

Stevi  was ready for us, and got to work seeing if we needed anything. I filled my water, grabbed a Gu, and we headed out towards the 3 mile loop. 

We immediately hit a pretty steep downhill with loose gravel, so it wasn’t entirely safe to really open up here. I kept my stride under control, and shuffled down to the bottom all the while praying my feet wouldn’t slide out of control. Soon we were running down switchbacks, only to then run up switchbacks on the next hill. 

We eventually made it up to a clearing where we crossed a grassy field and found our way down in to another trail in the woods. Here we encountered the girl I had seen, and she was running with tall, lanky fellow. They were running a comfortable pace, so Matt and I ended up sticking with them for most of the loop. I chatted up the girl, Alice, while Matt struck up a conversation with her husband. Through small talk I found out that Alice gave birth 16 weeks ago, and was trying to get her trail legs back. I was completely dumbfounded that she was tackling a 50k so soon after giving birth. She said she ran a marathon 2 weeks ago, the same weekend of the Chicago marathon. I started to get an inkling of an idea that she must be more than meets the eye, because she was holding a pretty comfortable pace in spite of her recent mommy-hood.

The couple seemed to slow down a bit, so Matt and I lost them as we wrapped up the last leg of the small loop. We ran essentially all of this loop, with the exception of the steep climb with loose gravel back up to the pavilion. 

Matt being...Matt.

Towards the end of the loop we encountered some people walking their dogs, and a little boy seemed to be in charge of the cutest little puppy I have ever seen. It was a Boston Terrier, but it was the size of a small hot dog and had a giant puppy belly. I wanted to stop and play with it, but I had bigger things on the agenda at that moment.

1^st Small Loop- 28:51 (9:01 pace)

Stevi was at the pavilion asking what we needed, and after a quick reply she stuffed my hand with Gu and candy pumpkins. I grabbed my camera and we were off. Matt pulled ahead of me at the trail head and I tucked in behind him. 

We came up behind some runners and decided to pass them, but tried to keep our pace in check. We were both feeling really good and it was hard holding back on the first part of this loop. The lanky guy (Mr. Alice) caught up to use, and we casually chatted while I attempted not to kill myself taking pictures. 

Mr. Alice's legs

Matt pulled ahead because I slowed drastically to try and get some not-blurry photos. There were a lot of spots I would’ve liked to have taken pictures, but the ground was a little too dangerous to be messing with a camera. Eventually I decided I’d had enough fun with the camera, and took off after Matt. It didn’t take long to catch him on the downhills, so soon I was back in our comfortable groove. 

Stone Steps sucked just a little bit more this time, and I tried not to worry how much it would suck the 3rd and 4th times around. 

I obeyed the sign gods and did not whine, hoping I would be rewarded for my efforts. 

Shortly before Gummy Bear, we saw a guy on the ground rolling around in pain. Matt and I stopped to see how serious the situation was, and it appeared that he fell and landed on his kneecap on top of a rock. Ouch. We told him we’d alert the volunteers at the pavilion to look out for him if he didn’t make it back in a reasonable amount of time.

We took off skirting our way carefully down the steep side of Gummy B and came back up slowly on the crazy-steep grade.

2^nd Big Loop- 50:21 (9:30 pace)

Matt & I, stride for stride

When we came through the timing mat area, I downed a Gu, drank some heed, and told Stevi I’d be ready for PB&J after I came through on the small loop. Matt and I took off again, tackling the small loop with slightly more confidence after having run it previously. We caught a glimpse of the 50k leader who was climbing up the loose gravel hill as we were carefully making our way down. He didn’t even have to walk, he just plowed up it. Amazing. 

There was also a 27k race going on, and we started encountering the 27k runners on the loop. They were pretty accommodating to either give us the right of way or let us pass them on the trail. Matt and I ran the 2^nd much more cautiously than the first time around, we were starting to notice the climbs and realized we should be walking more.

2^nd Small Loop- 31:25 (9:49 pace-longer transition made this loop a little slow)

As we came in to the pavilion Stevi pulled out our PB&Js while Matt and I took off our shoes and socks to inspect our feet. I started feeling a blister forming in the same location of my previous blood blister, so I was a little worried that they would be in rough shape. No blisters yet, so I put body glide on my feet and quickly got my shoes and socks back on. Matt wanted to eat his sandwich while stationary, but I was too pumped to wait. 

I took off down the grassy slope, sandwich in hand, with jelly dripping down the side (for those paying close attention, I did eat a sandwich after touching my gross feet. Get over it).

Matt caught up to me and we enjoyed the first 2 easy miles of the big loop, but somewhere before stone steps I lost Matt. I wasn’t sure if he was hurting or something, but I knew he’d either catch back up to me or he wouldn’t. 

A big gust of wind came through while I was on the steps, and the trees above me started dropping acorns like crazy. I was afraid of getting pelted on the head, so I covered my head with my arms and prayed I wouldn’t get taken out of the race by a freak acorn accident. I made it to the top, much more slowly this time around.

I passed quite a few walkers during this loop, and some runners who clearly went out too hard on the first loops. I ended up dropping my candy corn pumpkins somewhere along the way  and had to settle for Gu and gummy bears instead. I started feeling a little warm and realized it was starting to heat up, though the wind helped cool me off.  Right as I headed down Gummy Bear Hill, I caught a glimpse of Alice. She was catching up to me, and judging by my declining speed I was sure it wouldn’t take long. I made it back to the pavilion, starting to really feel the toll of the last climbs up stone steps and Gummy B.

Coming in just before Alice...

3^rd Big Loop- 55:38 (10:30pace)- Including the shoe/sock transition

I wasn’t really looking forward to the 3^rd small loop, but with Alice now hot on my heels I didn’t have much time to think about it. I managed to get safely down the loose gravel slope yet again, and focused intently on my footing as I realized I was starting to get tired…and thus much more prone to tripping. Alice caught up to me half way through the loop and we chit chatted a bit more. It was nice having some company, and I was still fascinated with her obvious superior ability. She told me she ran all the way up until the day she delivered, and was running 2 days after giving birth. Hard. Core.  

(my favorite picture of the day)

We walked all of the climbs this time, I marveled at my brazen effort to run them all the first time around. Alice finally passed me just before coming in to the pavilion, but I didn’t feel the urgency to sprint to the timing mat on such an insignificant loop.

3^rd Small Loop- 35:50 (11:12 pace)

Stevi was pumped to see me come through with Alice. I guess she’d been hearing the locals chat about Alice, and they had completely written me out of the race before it even started. Come to find out, she’s the course record holder and local favorite to win races. At this point in the race, I wasn’t even sure that we were the lead females. The RD never announced anything as we came through on previous loops, and none of the volunteers told us we were leading. In a loop course like this, it’s really hard to know your placement in the pack. I kept passing runners that I didn’t know were ahead of me, and a woman very easily could’ve been up ahead. I’m still a bit miffed that the RD would announce the lead males, but say nothing when we came through.

Anyways, Stevi had my Gu in hand when I came through so I filled my bottle and took off. Alice had a longer stop, but I knew she would catch me. Apparently they announced the 2 lead females were neck and neck, but I was already gone when they made the announcement. Stevi said the RD commented on the fact that I was keeping up with Alice, which I guess is not a common occurrence. I’m sure if she weren’t recovering from her pregnancy she would blow me out of the water.

Sure enough Alice caught back up to me somewhere in the first mile of the last loop. She apologized for being on my heels, and I said I didn’t mind the company as long as she made her move before Gummy Bear Hill. I didn’t want her to coast off of me knowing she could sprint her butt off in the last half mile to defend her title. 

We walked a lot and trudged through the downhill, and I noticed that my downhill pace started matching my uphill pace. Not good. If I can’t run faster than a 10:30 going downhill I knew I had no shot of pushing for the win. Alice said her legs were completely shot, but at some point after mile 2 she made her move and left me behind. I was finally alone suffering through the last 3.5 miles, knowing they were going to be the most painful miles of my life. It hurt to run, it hurt to walk. I finally had my first spill, but landed comfortably on my water bottle. I was sad when I realized I lost some water, I needed every drop.  The stone steps were almost unbearable the 4^th time around. Alice was just finishing her climb up the steps as I started mine. I went really slow. I mean really, really slow. I put my hands on my quads to help push off, which in hindsight makes absolutely no sense. At one point I looked to the top and saw…

My legs were sufficiently destroyed when I finally made it all the way up. I had to stop for a second and wait for them to respond to my request to walk, and then finally run. I realized that running somehow hurt less than walking at this point, and actually started to slowly run up the hills. None of the crazy climbs, just the average little hills that were completely runnable the first time around. I passed more people, and realized that I was actually lapping them. They weren’t in a terribly good mood, neither was I. I took another Gu and was pleased with my fueling. In spite of the warm temperatures, I never felt light-headed or dizzy, which has been a common theme in my races lately.

I made it to Gummy B hill and really locked in on making it up to the top. I was so close to the finish, but there was still a 41% climb to surmount. Usually when a race gets tough I mentally withdraw in to a psycho-analysis of self and start to feel angry with everyone and everything. This time there was no such emotion. My legs simply hurt, and I was almost done. No analysis needed. I looked to Bryan for inspiration and envisioned him running up the giant hill in our neighborhood while wearing ankle weights, carrying a heavybag, and being chased by our over-zealous pup. He would love this hill, I thought.

Wishing I had Apollo to chase me up the hill...

Isn't my hubbs a badass?

I then saw the people with the cute puppy making their way down the hill, and this time I stopped to pet the little guy. He squirmed like a giddy little piglet and squealed with delight at being pet. If they have puppies like this in pet stores, I hope I never see one because I will buy it immediately without hesitation.

Up I went, and finally I made it to the top. I forced my legs to run even though they rebelled in every possible way. I came up behind another runner and startled him when I asked to pass. I was so close to the finish, I could finally see the cars in a clearing just outside the pavilion. 

Suddenly, I was there. I saw the clock and felt relief when I crossed the timing mat.

4^th Big Loop- 1:02:36 (11:49 pace)

Finish Time: 5:14:02

 2^nd Female (Alice finished about 3 minutes before me, for those who were wondering)

 7^th overall (out of 82 starters, 68 finishers)

I was dumbfounded when I downloaded my GPS data....my watch claimed we did a total of 7480ft of climbing ( equal amount of decent). Not too shabby at all.

I’ve started to learn that the finish line at an ultra can be a funny thing. Coming from the Chicago Marathon where millions of people are cheering you on, to a small motley crew of volunteers who clap if they happen to notice you’re finishing. The internal sense of accomplishment was great, because I realized that was a hard course and I did my best.

I really, really needed to sit down but they still had to take the timing chip off. I considered just falling over and letting them sort out the mess, but somehow Stevi was able to lead me back to the picnic table where I unveiled the blister that I knew had formed over the last 2 loops. 

Stevi filled me in on the boys, it appeared that Matt shouldn’t be too far behind me, and Chris had just left for his last loop as I was coming in. I asked Stevi if Chris said anything about hating me, or making me sleep outside that night, but he seemed to be in good spirits in spite of the holes in the bottom of his feet.

The sun was hot, so we found a patch of grass in the shade and I finally allowed myself to fall back and relax. Stevi was great, fussing over me and making sure I was comfortable. Jinx was quite happy to have a sweaty runner to lick, so he cuddled up on my lap. 

We waited for the boys to come in and finally saw the familiar Endurasoak singlet that Matt was wearing. We cheered him in, and he seemed to be in a pretty good mood. 

It was only a matter of time before Chris made it through the finish, completing his very first ultra.

The race was definitely well organized, and the volunteers were great. The trails were extremely well marked, and the aid station had a great spread of anything and everything you could possibly want. While this was a challenging course, it’s also a great set up because you are able to loop back to your gear every few miles. I would definitely recommend this race, though I would caution runners to really, really take it easy the first 2 loops.

We eventually made the 2 hour drive back to Columbus, and enjoyed our post-ultra celebration while eating all kinds of fried goodness. Fyi…if you’ve never had fried pickles, you don’t know what you’re 

missing.

Thanks again to Stevi and Chris for putting us up, couldn’t have done it without you guys! Stevi wins “best supporter ever” award for her patience and ability to predict what we needed.

After the race, in spite of the dead feeling in my legs, I was hungry for more. I want to improve, I want to take on more challenges, and I want to destroy the JFK 50 miler in November.

Chicago Marathon

10/10/10

Sorry everyone, no pictures this time. For those who can't wait to get to the bottom of the page to hear how it went...it was a bust. My first real "bust" out of 19 marathons, so I think I was long over-due.


Chi-town…This is it, the pinnacle of my marathon “career”. I was determined to break the elusive 3:10 barrier in the great Windy City. It took quite a few runners to convince me to run Chicago because I absolutely despise large, crowded races. Next to NYC ING, I assumed Chicago would be the 2nd worst race in America. But boy was I wrong…in fact, had the weather cooperated I’m convinced it would’ve been the best race I’d ever run. While the crowd was large, the organization of the race was immaculate. I stayed at the Chicago Hilton (race HQ) which was steps from the start/finish area. They had a shuttle right outside of the hotel to take runners to/from the expo. Restaurants galore were all within walking distance. The city was clean and didn’t reek with the normal big-city stench that I so despise. Everything seemed to be lining up perfectly, all I had to do was run the darn thing. There was a small concern of the temperatures being a little too high for a fast marathon, but I tried not to think about it. I decided that I was as prepared as I could be, and I would give it my best shot.

As most of you know by now, I’ve been somewhat of a running fool the past 10 months. I’ve run back-to-back marathons, marathons in the mountains, a 50k in the heat, and even a last minute marathon. This would be my 9th marathon of the year, and it was definitely the most important. I easily held back on my other races, they were really just an excuse to travel and run in new environments. I hit the mileage hard in August/September (peaking at 90mpw) and I lavishly enjoyed my taper, sleeping in and spending more time running with my sweet puppies (ponies?).

As I picked up my packet on Saturday, I literally had no idea what I was capable of, but I knew that 3:10 couldn’t be much of a stretch (especially given my 3:12 in Boston).

Race morning: My runner roomie (Matthew) woke me up plenty early, and for the first time in many marathons I wasn’t frantically throwing things around the room trying to find my sunglasses or watch, looking for that last safety pin, or praying that I would have time to hit the bathroom before the gun went off. As I made my way down the elevator I had that race-morning anticipation, eager to get going. There were at least 100 people in the lobby of the hotel waiting to head to the start line, and at least 100 more spectators eager to get back to bed.

I dropped my bag off at the gear check and headed to the seeded corral. I was very worried that because of the size of the race, the start area would be a giant cluster f*@# and it would take forever to make it though, but I was early enough to breeze right on to where I needed to be. I sat in the grass and watched people head in to the corrals, and saw a few familiar faces. Eventually I made my way to a pre-designated spot in Corral B where I was planning on meeting a few other runners. Sure enough, Ron, Matthew, Miles, and Nancy were all easy to find. Ron, Matthew and I look particularly dashing in our matching Endurasoak singlets.

I turned my watch on and waited for it to sync---wait a second---try it again…turn my watch on and…AH!!! It’s completely DEAD. I looked dejectedly at my watch and thought “how the heck am I going to do this?”. Unlike most well-prepared runners, I haven’t run any marathon pace miles all training cycle. Heck, I haven’t run any MP miles since BOSTON. My legs have no flipping clue what a 7:14 pace feels like, and I have no way of tracking my mile splits. I probably would’ve panicked had I been alone, but with my friends shooting for a 3:10 I knew I would just have to stick with them for as long as I felt comfortable.

The gun went off, and our little pack of 4 had no problems sticking together. I was amazed at how un-crowded it was. I hardly had to maneuver around anyone, and there was very little weaving and dodging. I did feel my heel get clipped once, but thankfully it wasn’t enough to take me down. The groups’ watches weren’t holding a signal, since we were in between many high buildings. Ron led us through the first 2 or so miles right on target. I was slightly concerned when I started sweating at mile 2, as that is way too early in the race to be perspiring. Nancy took off on her own and looked like she was feeling very comfortable for a 3:10. Ron was smart and realized it was too hot to push it, so he dropped back to run a controlled race. Matthew, Miles and I plugged away diligently on track for our goal. We chatted, voiced our concerns about the heat, and stayed very focused on the course at hand. I had been running with a plastic water bottle because I’ve become accustomed to carrying water on my training runs, and I didn’t want to fight the crowds at the water stops. After mile 3 or 4 I realized the water stops weren’t at all crowded, and the volunteers were a sea of hydrating efficiency. I tossed the bottle and hit every water stop from then on out. I remembered to take a gel around mile 6, though I was starting to feel warm and the Gu wasn’t very appetizing.

Mile 8 cracked me up when we came through Boy’s Town. I don’t remember much about the course, but it’s hard to miss the guys in drag on stage singing “Grease Lightning” and the Pride Drill Team spinning their rifles. Everyone was partying in Boy’s Town, that’s for sure. I was still feeling ok at this point, not great, but not horrible. I felt like I would at least be able to hold the pace for 18 miles, and hopefully claw my way to the 3:10. Something happened around 10 though, and I started feeling less than stellar. I was getting light headed on and off, and the effort became substantial. I took another Gu hoping that would help, but I still felt pretty rough. I stuck with Matthew and Miles until 12.5 or so, and still made it through the halfway point right at 1:35. I knew deep down that my body could not do what I was asking of it. I held on as long as I could, but by 15 I was cooked. I started getting light-headed again, and I felt goose bumps on my arms (which is NOT normal if it’s over 70 degrees out). One second I was on track for a 3:10, and the next I was dialing back my pace as much as possible.

I was pretty upset that I had failed at my race (even though it was long from over). I started thinking that everyone was right, I ruined my training by running too long and too slow, and running too many races. I was sad to realize that I won’t be able to run races frequently and I can’t get any faster if I’m trying to train for something like a 50 miler. I gave myself a few minutes to mope, and then I immediately started scheming. I knew there was a 50k in Ohio in 2 weeks, so if I REALLY slowed down my legs should be ok for another race. If I can’t run a 3:10, there is absolutely no reason to kill myself finishing as fast as possible. I realize this sounds like I was giving up, but if I can’t set a PR there’s no reason to be racing. Period. I wanted to have a quick recovery, and to do this I would need to cause minimal damage during the last 9 miles of the race.

I let people pass me, and suddenly I realized I had been running in a pack of mostly all men. There weren’t any chicks around, anywhere. It felt good to think I was running in BQ land for the young guys. Anyways, with that now over I focused on slowing down, though again…no watch! I didn’t have any idea what pace I was running, but I wanted to make sure it was at least as slow as an 8:00/mile. Girls started passing me in torrents, and a little part of my ego died with each passing pigtail and skirt. At one point a girl with shorts so short that her butt cheeks were hanging WAY out tried to pass me, but after a look at her thong-shorts I couldn’t stand to run behind her. I passed her and never saw her butt again (literally).

The miles ticked by and I don’t remember much. I know that I was only annoyed by the screaming crowd a few times, mostly when I started to get dizzy and the shrill screams and cow bells further compounded my headache. The water stops broke out some hoses once the sun really started beating down, and I enjoyed running through the spray every mile or so. They also had kiddie pools filled with soaking sponges, and passed them out to runners. It was obvious that the fiasco in 2008 when they ran out of water and had to cancel the race would not happen again.

Miles 20-26 are a complete blur. My legs felt fine at the easy pace, and I was breathing easily through my nose. I still got dizzy on occasion, and did start to feel tired. I was so ready to be done with the race. I was ecstatic to finally see the finish line and face the thousands of fans screaming on the side of the road. I realized if I ran straight down the middle I wouldn’t hear any of the stupid “You’re almost there! Sprint it in!” comments that marathoners so LOATHE to hear. I crossed the finish line and quickly made my way through the chute, collecting my medal and a barrage of food items. Only once I sat down on the grass by the bag check, did I realize I had no idea what my finish time was. I calculated it must’ve been a 3:26, though later someone checked the results for me and pointed out it was a 3:24 something. I’m surprised I ran even that “fast”, because it felt like I was running 9:00 miles at the end.

Perhaps the most enjoyable part of the day was sitting at the finish area with Chris and Matt, waiting for Stevi to finish her first marathon. The race conditions were elevated to a “red alert” status, which meant it was way too hot to be out on the course. Everyone finishing past the 4 hour mark walked through the finish area with a bag of ice on their head. The temps were in the mid 80s, yet another bad year at the Chicago marathon. We also discovered that perhaps due to the insane amount of people at the finish line trying to use phones, none of us could use our cell phones. This was a disaster after the race for runners trying to locate their families. It was so frustrating having a full signal, yet unable to place any calls.

Anyways, Chicago was a bust…but the year isn’t over yet!! At the airport while standing in line to go through security, I registered for the Stone Steps 50k on Oct. 24th in Cincinnati. I very much look forward to a silly adventure with Chris and Matt, who also had a crappy day in Chi-town (sorry boys). I am perfectly fine with what happened, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little disappointed.

Only 38 days until the JFK 50 Miler, so there’s no time to waste.

Odyssey Trail Running Rampage Marathon

Sept. 18^th- Millboro, VA 

I know, I know…I said I wasn’t racing again until after Chicago. BUT, I wasn’t really racing today. I had wanted to do a solid long trail run this weekend anyhow, and after hearing about this race it seemed like a perfect fit. After consulting many of my running friends the consensus was fairly well split between “You’re screwing your chances at Chi-town” and “sure, why the heck not?”.  Normally I would agree that running a marathon 3 weeks before a scheduled marathon is a bad idea if the goal is to PR. Yet this year I found myself in a position where 26 miles is no longer very daunting to me (or my legs). I’ve already completed 7 marathons this year, some which were quite challenging (i.e. Leadville), and I’ve found that my recovery time is rapidly cutting down after each event. I’ve been hitting higher mileage in my training, and spending 4+ hours out on the trails on the weekend. For this reason, I felt confident that so long as I didn’t race the trail marathon, I would be fine to really push the pace in Chicago.

The Logistics: Worth mentioning because it was rather unconventional.

I signed up 3 days prior to the race knowing full well that I would be working until 10-10:30 pm on Friday night. The race was 3.5 hours away at a state park somewhere out west, so I either had to drive down after work or wake up at 2am. I was planning on sleeping in my car at the park, but Bryan had sense enough to talk me out of that idea. Luck would have it that 2 other runners from the area were also running the race and they offered me a bed in their hotel. I made it to the hotel shortly before 1am, and hit the pillow hard. Because the hotel was still 1.5 hours from the start, I was up at 5:30 to get on the roll. The night clerk at the front desk was nice enough to let me in early for the continental breakfast, so for the first time in many marathons, I had my bagel TOASTED. Oh yes, this is a big deal. Big enough, in fact, to mention in a blog. The hotel also served the same packets of peanut butter I ate in boot camp, but that might not warrant mention (too late). 

The drive to the start was absolutely beautiful. The sun was slowly waking in the horizon with about as much exuberance as I feel on Monday mornings.  As I passed through the mountains in Shenandoah there was a gently mist trickling through the valley, and I thought of the old classic song “Shenandoah” with the beautiful tenor medley. I think the song must’ve been composed at sunrise, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything so serene.

The Race:

I pull in to the state park and find the start area. The thermostat on my car reads 47 degrees. Hmmm…should’ve thought this one through. I was freezing in my shorts and Boston jacket. And let me tell you, nothing says “shmuck” more than someone who shows up to a trail race wearing a Boston Marathon jacket. Sadly, I didn’t have any other options.

Registration/HQ

As I went to pick up my bib I was amused to hear blue grass playing over the speakers and runners sleepily unzipping their tents and stumbling out to put their shoes on. I immediately decide that I’m coming back next year with my tent to really get the full experience. We gathered around for a pre-race brief shortly before the start, and I am impressed by how fit most people look. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill marathon with a large population of runners sporting the beer gut and donut butts. These people all looked like they could be runners. There were somewhere around 30ish runners there for the marathon. A bigger group had started 1.5 hours earlier to do 40 miles, and an even larger group would be starting 1.5 hours later to do the half marathon.

Lodging, start, and finish

I made a last minute decision to use my handheld instead of the camelbak, and stuffed my pockets with a couple of Gu’s. It was a 13.4mi loop course, so we’d be able to grab what we needed before our 2^nd trip out.

Course Profile:

13.4 loop, run twice

We huddled around the start, but it was like an awkward first day of school where none of the kids wanted to be the first on the bus. Everyone stayed a good 10 feet back behind the line and showed no ambition for hoping to win the race.  The horn went off at 8:30 and we all made our way in a small pack through the woods. I was running with Jeff, one of the runners I stayed with at the hotel, and we chatted about the various races we’ve done. 

(Jeff)

All the other runners were very quiet as we toed our way over the first few rock strewn portions and started the long, slow climb. The course profile showed the first 3 miles to be completely up hill, and I was fairly certain I’d be walking a lot of it. I found the grades to be not terribly steep, but it was just so long it was hard to maintain a running pace for very long. I ended up running until my breathing was labored, then I would slow to a walk. There were footsteps behind me, which I assumed belong to Jeff, but later realized it was a woman and I’d ditched Jeff in the first 2 miles. I am a terrible partner to run on trails with.

The woman and I ended up chatting most of the way up,  discussing races and future plans. She (Diane- D) is a tri coach from Virginia Beach, and she looked pretty intense. She was a solid brick of muscle, and I was curious to see how she would do over the long course. Right at about 3 miles we had our first tease of a downhill, and it was a doozy. The grade was fine, but it was at a near 45 degree angle on the side of the mountain. I had a really hard time balancing myself while running with my shoulder canting hard to the right, yet still picking up my feet over the rocks and roots on the trail. Right as I’m coming out of this tricky single track, I start to go down. My heart races wildly as I brace for impact, but something strange happens…my new trail shoes seemingly have self-corrective balancing skills. I find myself still on my feet, but running with my arms stretched out somewhat like Batman. Had I tripped there, it could’ve easily wiped me out for the day.

I hear D come up behind me, and she commented on how tough that little section was and that she ended up running off trail on one of the switchbacks. We finally come in to the first aid station at mile 3.5 where the poor volunteers had to hike all of the water and supplies up for us. I skipped refilling my bottle with the thought that if everyone refills at that aid station, there won’t be anything left on the 2^nd loop.

Aid Station #1 (with a view)

D and I headed out of the aid station and start the beautiful trek down hill (err, down mountain?). The rocks aren’t bad enough to impact our stride, which is awesome. I had a nightmare flashback to Leadville where every step was sure to break an ankle. I fell in to stride behind her, and she asked if I wanted to pass. On any other day, I would have. Instead, I found myself comfortable keeping things dialed back.  My legs really wanted to take off, but I kept telling them to save it for Chi-Town. We caught up to a really tall bald guy and stayed behind him as the miles ticked by. D and I chatted incessantly, and at one point the bald guy finally spoke up and said “I don’t know how you ladies have the energy to talk so much while you’re running a marathon”. We giggled a little and tried to talk less, which resulted in more giggling and more talking. Oh well, we tried.

let the good times roll! (as long as it's downhill)

            I couldn’t believe how fast the miles ticked by coming downhill. Before we knew it we were up to 9, and the trail dumped out on to a nice, smooth, loose gravel road. It was also slightly downhill, and I could see the aid station up ahead. I allowed myself to pick it up a tad and push it in to the aid station. I was so happy and chatty I forgot I was supposed to hurry through and keep running. While I was cracking jokes with the aid station workers, D, Baldy, and another guy caught up to me and started filling their hydration packs. I realized my mistake because I was then stuck behind 3 camelbaks with only one cooler to fill, and I had a mere 20 oz bottle to top off. Dang it! I stood there and waited for everyone else to finish, and was the last person out of the aid station. I was mad at myself for not paying attention, and took off to catch the crew.

Aid station #2

It didn’t take too long to catch up, as we headed in to some uphill segments and they were walking a lot. I dropped in behind D, and she informed me we were following Baldy’s run/walk approach on the hills. I stuck with them for a couple of minutes, but I started to notice there were little hills for mountain bikers to jump over, and it was super fun to power through them.

            I left D and Baldy behind, and coasted for the next 2 miles. I felt a little off…light headed or something. I realized I should probably take a Gu at some point, but I held out for my PB&J at the transition area. I started to catch up to other runners, one by one. I passed a young kid sporting a Mohawk wearing bright purple shorts, who was looking less than stellar. He was bending over the side of the trail heaving, and I offered him some water and stopped for a second to make sure he was at least going to survive.  Before the race I overheard Mohawk talking to his goons (more young guys with a funny choice in clothing/hair styles) and he had said it was going to be tough for a first marathon, but he should be able to run a 3:30. I knew this was a horrible idea, as the men’s course record was a 3:5X. Sure enough, he was hurting.

More beautiful views...

After leaving Mohawk I caught up to another young guy who looked to be in pretty good shape. I joked that I’d see him when he caught me on the uphill, but that never happened. As I was rounding out the last mile on the first loop, I saw a guy barely off the trail peeing in the woods. There’s no way I’m going to stop running to let this guy finish his business, so I run by and yell “not looking!!”. He cursed, laughed, and apologized as he caught back up to me. I did most of the talking, and he did a great job of laughing at all of my super hilarious jokes. I noticed he was taking it really slow on the downhill though, and I opted to leave him behind. He was really strong on the climbs, but for some reason was pretty weak on the downhill.

            I came in to the finish/transition area, and everyone cheered me on. They said I was the first woman and in the top 3 overall. I didn’t realize there were so few people ahead of me! Must be a slow day. I grab my PB&J, put my camera away, and head off. D & Baldy are coming in to the aid station as I’m leaving, so we swap encouraging cheers to one another (though Baldy didn’t say anything, he still wasn’t much of a talker).

            The 2 young guys I had recently passed caught up to me in the transition area, so we started the 2^nd climb together. Young guy #1 fell back, while young guy #2 (the pisser) set the pace up the hills. I soon fell back as my legs started protesting the climb. I didn’t think D would catch up to me, as she was bound to be suffering as much as me the 2^nd time around. The pisser was long gone, and I was left to struggle on my own for the next 2.5 miles. I started to think I ran too much on the climbs the first time around, as this time it was insanely hard. I then realized my electrolyte level was probably pretty bad, since I’d downed around 60 oz of water and had taken no salt tabs or Gu. Oops…

Up, up, up we go

 I finally make it to the canted downhill portion that tripped me up last time, and went really slow to make sure my footing was ok. I made it safely in to the aid station, and greedily filled my handheld this time around. They had a plate of salt sitting on top, and I found myself dipping my finger in to get a little salt. I’d read about ultra runners eating packets of salt, but I never fathomed that I might be in this situation myself. It tasted awful, but I washed it down and headed out to tackle the rest of the course. I knew the hardest part was over, all I had to do was cruise to the finish. D came in to the aid station as I was on my way out, and I was amazed she was so close behind me. I don’t know why I was surprised though, I wasn’t going at break neck paces. I take off downhill and my legs immediately feel normal again. I’m having way too much fun hopping over rocks and all but skipping down the side of the mountain. D catches up to me before long, and I realize her massively muscular legs are no joke. We run together for about 2 miles again, though there’s less chatter this time around. I started to feel hot spots on the inside of my heels on both feet. Crap. The downhill was tearing my feet up.

Coach Diane

D falls back a little and I allow myself to pick up the pace. I catch up to the pisser, as he’s doing a terrible job of navigating the downhill sections. Low and behold, it’s his first trail race ever. No wonder. I’m no trail savant, but it took me a couple of tries to gain confidence with the downhill stuff. I leave him behind to pick his way carefully over the rocks, and head off on my own again.

I started feeling a little light headed again, and though perhaps it would be a brilliant time to take a Gu. A half of a PB&J and one Gu probably wasn’t enough for a long trail run, and I chided myself for not paying attention to fueling. Soon enough I hear footsteps behind me, and D has caught back up. I was super impressed with her stamina. She didn’t look tired at all. We hit the gravel again and I let it loose, but she passed me when I stopped to fill up at the aid station. It took me a little while longer to catch her this time around, but eventually on more of the uphill terrain she started walking more. As I passed her she picked the pace up and did a pretty good job of keeping up with me.

Soon I saw the 20 mile marker and decided it was time to have some fun. I let the hammer drop hard and pushed it in. I figured a final 10k kick was a great way to end a “training run”, I just hoped I hadn’t worked too hard the first 20 miles. Much to my surprise, the legs responded to what I was asking of them and off we went. I lost D pretty quickly and started picking off the half marathoners who had started at some point before we started our second loop. I saw a woman go down, and I stopped to help her up and make sure she was ok. It’s such an awkward thing to do, you never know if you should move on after you’ve helped them or stick around for a while. She seemed ok, so I took off. Now things really started getting fun. I was picking off the half marathoners left and right. For the most part, everyone was nice about moving off the trail so I could pass.

Around mile 23 I start to get excited about how good I’m feeling. I’m lost in my thoughts, and I suddenly hear a crashing sound through the woods. I hear a guy shouting frantically, and the ever-so-familiar sound of a large animal boring through the woods. I know it’s a dog, and he’s running away from his owner. Right when the crashing gets really loud and I can hear the panting, I turn around and am plowed over by a very, very excited Chesapeake Bay Retriever. To his credit, he tried to stop before hitting me but the poor guy was running downhill. We both went down gently, and he gave my face a good lick before bounding back to his owner, who was still nowhere in sight. I was more amused than anything by my encounter, and since neither of us was hurt in the incident I laughed it off. I’m just glad it happened to me and not to a runner who was afraid of dogs.

Lakeside trail

I really started to appreciate the loop factor in this run. I knew when the hills were coming, and I had a sense of confidence the second time around. I turned a bend around a lake that was all too tempting to jump in to, and knew that I was close to the finish. All I had to do was push it up one more climb, and then coast back down on the other side. I passed more half marathoners who were walking up the hill, and then let it rip when I passed over the peak of the hill. Because of all the hairpin turns, it was impossible to see very far ahead. I was rewarded by this when I came out of the woods and saw the finish line was less than 100m away. There were 2 guys just ahead of me who were finishing the half marathon, and I did my best to thrown down a strong final kick. I’ve always sucked at sprinting, and just about any guy can out run me for 100m or less. I passed one of the guys without a problem, but the 2^nd guy put up a fight. He looked at me bib and asked what race I was running, and when I said “the marathon” he immediately backed off and let me finish ahead of him.

I came through the finish line and there were loud cheers by all of the people hanging around. The race director came over and shook my hand, excited to have a new course record for the female marathon. I immediately tear my shoes and socks off, and am horrified to see a giant blood blister on the inside of my right foot. I see the outline of a blister on my left foot, though it’s less minor than its counterpart.

I limp around the finish line area cheering D as she comes in, and head over to my gear to pound down my Gatorade recovery drink. I’m surprised that my legs aren’t pounding in the least, and I don’t feel tight or sore. If my feet were in better shape, I would be walking around without the slightest trace of a limp.

I hung out by the finish area for a couple of hours, talking to runners and just relaxing in the sunshine. I saw Mohawk come in at about the 6 hour mark, and I laughed when I overheard him talking to his goons. He told them he got really lost and went MILES off trail, and it took him 2 hours to find his way back. He’d have been much faster if they had marked the course better. There’s no WAY anyone got lost for 2 hours on that course, and he somehow neglected to tell his friends that he was near puking only 11 miles in to the race. What a schmuck.

Overall, this race was awesome. I can’t wait to run it again next year. I don’t know if I’ll be running the marathon or the 40 miler, but I look forward to spending some time in the woods again.

Results:

Finish time: 4:22:06 (new female record by 37 minutes)

Overall: 2^nd (out of 31)

Gender: 1^st (out of 9)

It’s a shame this race is so small, but maybe that’s the beauty of it. I’m hoping to get a group together to camp out next year, there’s a lot of potential for a really great weekend.