Grit and Grace – Race #35. The big one.

Shwag (minus the coffee mug)

Date: October 17

Type: Trail Run

Distance: 50k (but really more like 55k)

Shwag: Long sleeve shirt, a buff, cool finisher’s mug

It’s only been a few weeks since race #35, the Indian Creek 50-ish kilometer trail race in Sedalia, Colorado. Did I really do this race, or was it just a dream? Both during and after, this race felt like it resided somewhere outside my reality, somewhere quiet, where time slows down, and everything other than the here-and-now falls away. To state it a little more plainly, this race was magical.

I didn’t have a lot of anxiety before this race but I did have a bit of dread. What had I gotten myself into? I had no idea. It didn’t help that when I picked up my race packet the Tuesday before the race, the Race Director told me there were only two rules I needed to remember: 1. Don’t fuck up. And 2. You have to do a shot. Was he serious? It seemed like he was serious.

These rules were only emphasized at the pre-race meeting where the RD discussed, in great depth, the amount and type of alcohol available on the course. He made it clear that there were ample bottles of liquor at the aid stations (although ample water was another story). If that wasn’t enough, there was also a woman in a devil costume running the course with a bottle of fireball, “the fireball fairy.”

Me and my six layers + Becky and Carmella

As soon as the pre-race meeting was over, the race pretty much started, which was a little problematic since I was wearing about six layers and needed to strip down to my actual running clothes. I got a little tangled up getting my sweatpants off and almost bit it before the race even started. Almost.

And then, it was happening.  

Like most races, people took off as soon as the gun… (Was there a gun? Did they maybe just yell “go!” I don’t remember.) As soon as they did whatever it was they did to start the race. Having done over 30 races this year alone, I’ve had a lot of chances to study the start-line dynamic. In all cases, no matter what type of race or distance, people go out way too fast. I thought it might be a little different in a race like this, where you’re literally in it for the long run, but nope. People are people, and this is just how we are.

I started somewhere around the back 1/8^th of the pack and I quickly fell to the very end. The way back. DFL. I didn’t judge this. I just thought, “Huh, I’m last. How about that?” I was there to run my race and do whatever I needed to do to get myself across the finish line. If that meant being last, that was fine by me. I’ve learned the hard way that, in races, life, whatever, if you let someone else dictate the pace, or follow someone else’s plan or idea of how things should be, things don’t generally work out that well for you. But when you follow your instincts, and you do what you know is right for you, things have a way of working themselves out.

Me at the back of the pack

Even though I was in last place, I hadn’t been completely left in the dust so I was able to see a flurry of activity about 200 yards up the hill. (That’s right, we started UPHILL.) The pack had been attacked by a swarm of wasps. It was still early and cold, not normal conditions for stingy things, so it was strange that there were so many wasps and they were so angry. Someone must have tromped through the nest and pissed them off. Luckily, I was able to avoid getting stung but a lot of people weren’t so lucky. Not a fun way to start a long day.

After the wasp attack, we continued our uphill climb. I linked up with Becky, who I’ve been training with for years now. She’s’ one of my favorite people to run with, for so many reasons and it was nice to run with her for the first hour or so. Becky had trained all summer for the 50k but had an injury crop up less than a month before the race. Even though she was feeling better, she decided to play it safe and drop out after the first loop, which was about 14 – 15 miles. I was going to miss having her out on the course, and I was also a tiny bit jealous that she’d be sitting at the finish line with her feet up while I was taking on loop #2.

Even though it’s billed as a 50k, the race is really closer to 35 miles. If that’s not enough on its own, the course has over ~7,700 feet of elevation gain. For the most part, you’re either running up something or down something. There’s not much in between. The first 2-ish miles of the race are uphill, and then you get to a lovely, long, smooth downhill that lasts for about five miles. I wanted to enjoy the downhill but all I kept thinking was “I’m going to have to run back up this at the end. I’m going to have to run up this at the end. I’m going to have to run up this at the end.” Ugh.

View on the way down the hill 

I passed a few more people on my way down the hill and was comfortably in something like fifth to last place. But, with a small group behind me, and god knows how many people in front of me, I found myself alone on the course for a pretty large stretch. The trail had snaked through a wooded area, so it was hard to know how far ahead everyone else was. I felt fairly alone out there, and I mentally prepared myself for a long and lonely day. But, around mile six, I was able to see runners on the trail ahead of me and there were a lot! I looked at my watch and timed how long it took me to get to the point where I saw them. Only two minutes. I wasn’t really alone at all! 

This gave me a small boost but I was still feeling a little tired and lethargic, despite having a fully caffeinated latte that morning. I’m mostly caffeine free in life so a fully caffeinated beverage usually packs a pretty punch for me. It was troubling that I didn’t feel this one at all. I had a caffeine strategy for the day, but I wasn’t planning to start until the second loop. Caffeine has it’s benefits, but there’s a sweet spot. Too much caffeine can be a problem, for sure. But, I had no choice. I felt like crud and I needed a fix. I mean, I needed to fix it.

I caffeined myself up with one of my “emergency gels” – the caramel macchiato flavored GU. There’s just something about this flavor that I find divine. I save these gels for especially rough moments, when I need an extra little something. The caramel macchiato didn’t disappoint. It took me to a happy place, like it always does.

Shortly after the GU, a guy named John caught up to me and we ran together for a while. Granted, I was a little cranky anyway, but John annoyed me a bit for a few reasons. First off, he had introduced himself to me right after the start and then he introduced himself to me again. Dude, there are like 50 of us our here, and like 10 of us in the back. You can’t remember that you already met me? Seriously? But the worst part was that he told me, in vivid and extended detail, about some car/pedestrian accident he had witnessed a few weeks ago. Vivid detail. For a long time. Miles and miles.  Luckily, we hit the aid station before he could start a second blood and guts story, and both of us were all about fueling at the mid-woods buffet.  

Party in the woods!
Note the bottle of alcohol.

The aid station was basically a little party in the woods. There were four guys manning the station, which had plenty of food and, of course, alcohol. I fueled up on potato chips and dip. And by dip I mean Nutella.

I had been warned that it’s easy to lose a lot of time at aid stations and I could see why. Since my day was already going to be plenty long, I didn’t need to waste extra time. I thanked the volunteers and was on my way, leaving John to entertain another runner with his stories.   

The next stretch of the course was really, really pretty. (The whole course was really, really pretty!) The trail winds up through the woods and through some Aspen groves, which was wonderful on a warm, fall day. I ran mostly on my own for this stretch, but there was a couple near me that I could see most of the time. They were easy to pick out since they were dressed as Babe the Blue Ox and Paul Bunyan. (Because the race is close to Halloween, there’s a costume contest. I’m pretty sure the guy dressed as a piece of bacon won.) 

Me and Carmella around mile 12

I passed a few other runners as I closed in on the end of loop #1 and I eventually caught up with up with Carmella, one of my F4 teammates. She was looking strong near the end of the first loop and had been having a great race so far. We ran together and chatted about what we’d seen and what was up next. It was great to have her company, and no gross stories!

While I had been our running loop #1, a few of my friends had made their way to the race and were waiting for me at the aid station. After spending four hours in the solitude of the woods, the start/finish aid station was a bit jarring on it’s own, with music and people and all sorts of activity. But it was especially jarring (in a good way), when my group saw me turn the corner and then erupted into some of the loudest cheering I’d ever heard. It was so loud and enthusiastic that people turned to see who they were cheering for. Just little old me. But I’ve got to admit, it was fun to feel popular.

It was great to have so many people there to take cheer and help me out and I took full advantage of it, bossing my friends around like a champ. I had one filling up my Skratch, another filling up my running pack, another getting me a turkey sandwich, and then one of them even put extra sunscreen on me. That’s the closest I’ve ever come to being waited on hand and foot and, I’m not going to lie, it was pretty wonderful.

I sat down for just a minute or two but was quickly on my way again, with a turkey sandwich in hand. The second loop started downhill which was good and bad. Good, because I was able to run and eat my sandwich at the same time. (How impressive is that? I can run AND eat a sandwich!) Bad because what goes down must come up.

The second loop was definitely rougher than the first. There was more up and down and the up was pretty steep in parts. Had I not done so much training on things like Bear Peak this summer, I might have gotten a little discouraged. But I knew exactly how I needed to pace myself and handle those hills. I took my time and focused on keeping my heart rate down while moving forward as efficiently as possible. Just keep moving, just keep moving, just keep moving.

I stopped moving for a brief moment
so I could take this picture.

I’d be lying if I said I was 100% positive through this whole thing. I wasn’t. There were definitely moments on some of those steep parts when I thought, “If this keeps up, I don’t know if I’m going to make it through this thing.” But any time my mind started to spiral, I just turned my attention back to what I was doing. Left foot on the big rock. Right foot on the small rock. Breathing in. Breathing out. Feeling the sun on my skin. Noticing the clouds in the bright blue sky. Just keep moving, just keep moving, just keep moving.

The second loop was about 20 miles, that can feel like a lot after you’ve already been out there for three or four hours. But, instead of thinking about one big chunk, I broke it up into smaller pieces: six miles to the check in point, four or five miles to the aid station, then a few mostly downhill miles to the bottom of the hill, the THE HILL, then less then two miles of downhill to the finish. Tackling each segment, one by one, definitely made it easier.

Big horn sheep grazing
under the tree

Even though the second loop is longer, it went by very quickly and it feels like more of a blob of experience, rather than individual memories. I know I had some total Zen moments out there, like when I saw the herd of big horn sheep grazing beneath a tree. Or when, about three miles from the finish, I stopped to look at the amazing view and briefly contemplate how lucky my life is.

And I had some good me time, too. When you’re out there for as long as I was, and you’re on your own for most if it, you have a lot of time to think in a very real way. I thought about some of the big things going on in my life, or some of my ways of being and thinking that are not necessarily completely ideal. While in normal life, I might think about ways to “fix” these things, on the trail, I was just very gentle with myself about it all. This is me, and that’s just is how it is, and that’s just fine.

Being in that situation – alone in the middle of now where, exhausted, with nothing to distract me from myself - I was able to spend time with me. Not the me that I pretend to be, not the me that other people think I am, not the me I think I am. The me that I really am. I like that me. That me is pretty awesome.

I know it sounds weird, but I took time to actively tell myself how much of a badass I was and how proud I was of myself for having such a great race, both mentally and physically. (In my head, not out loud, that would be weird.) I ran that race with both grit and grace, and I couldn’t be happier with my performance as an athlete and as a person. 

It feels like I should end the blog there, doesn’t it? But I’m not done yet! You still need to hear about the aid station in the woods and how they ran out of water so I basically just drank a bunch of Coke. And the bird-watching couple that I chatted with. And how I had to run up that six-mile hill!  

  

The hill, the hill, the hill. This hill would be rough no matter what but it’s especially tough after 30 miles of running. I was tired. My legs hurt. And I was ready to be done. I was also out of water, and that was no good. Just keep moving, just keep moving, just keep moving. 

Signs like this fed my
Zen moments.

I was suffering, but everyone else was too. And I suppose you could argue that I wasn’t suffering as much as the people I was passing. At least that’s what I was telling myself to motivate me to keep going. One of the most wonderful things about this race, and probably about ultras in general, is that everyone I passed was incredibly nice and supportive. No one was miffed that I was passing them. They were just happy to share a few moments with a fellow runner, and I was too.

But, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows on the way up. At one point, I had an inner freak out about whether or not I was every going to make it to the top of the hill. Someone had told me the hill has five false summits but I lost count after two. Where’s the top?  Where is it? Where is it? Where. Is. IT?????????

Just when I thought I was never going to get there, I ran into Dave, Carmella’s husband, and he yelled out “Only 3.2 miles to go. You’ve got this!” before trotting off down the trail to find Carmella and run in with her. While I was farther from the finish than I wanted to be, 3.2 miles was so short compared to what I had already done. I put my head down and got on it.

Before I knew it, I was close to the top. I had a great view of the valley and mountains off to my left, the sun was starting to set a bit, and a small storm was rolling in. I took a minute to take it all and reflect on how much of a badass I am. Yes, I know I only did a 50k. Some people run a lot more than that. But, I don’t care. That race was seriously badass.    

Shortly after embracing my badassness, I emerged from the woods and saw a sign telling me I was only about 1.5 miles from the finish. I almost couldn’t believe it. You know how in movies, sometimes the characters will go through something epic and dangerous and trying and, after they come out the other side, they’ll laugh at the ridiculousness of what they’ve been through, and then at the same time cry as they process the stress of it all? Yeah, I did a little bit of that.

The last 1.5 miles is a fairly smooth fire road that is also mostly downhill. It was surprising to me how well I was still running but I think my body was just carrying me home. After running on my own for a few minutes, I came around a corner and ran into my friends who had hiked up to find me. They screamed when they saw me. I screamed back. And there was much rejoicing. 

They got behind me and ran me into the finish, saying the most wonderful things to me as I ran, things like you’re a badass (yes, I know!), you’re amazing, you look fantastic – all things that everyone should be so lucky to hear. It was really a wonderful and humbling experience. Floating on their energy, I ran down the hill, back through the camp ground, past the site of the morning wasp attack, and to the finish line, just as a brief bit of rain started to fall.

Here’s a picture of me running it in with my friends. This is one of my favorite pictures ever for a few reasons. The most obvious is that you can see the joy in my face. I was just so freakin thrilled with what I had done.

The less obvious reason when I ran into Carmella’s husband towards the end of the race, there was a part of me that thought, “hmm… I don’t have a person like that to run out and meet me,” and that made me just a little sad. And then when I saw my entourage, I realized that I don’t have a person. I have people. Wonderful, amazing people and I am so grateful for that. So, even though your life may not look the way you thought it would, or the way people tell you it should, that doesn’t mean it’s not completely perfect.

I had a hard time falling asleep that night, probably because of all the caffeine, but also because I had had a simply amazing day. I was buzzing from my accomplishment as much as the caffeine, and I think I will be for a long time to come.