The Build-up:
In the days leading up to Jackson, I felt like every part of
my body was breaking down. As soon as I
started tapering my mileage I felt strange new twinges and aches setting
in. First it was the back of my left
knee, then my left middle toe, then my right heel, and finally my left
glute. I tried not to let these things
make me too crazy though. I was already
getting plenty of rest, eating healthy, keeping up with my daily foam rolling,
stretching, self-massaging. I told
myself that these things were probably just a result of my body settling into
this rest stage and repairing all of the training stress. So onward I went.
I knew that my mental training was going to become just as
important as my physical training by the end of a 50-miler, so I shifted my
focus to my mind during the final weeks before the race. I made the time to go to my restorative yoga
class a few times. In class I paid close
attention to my breathing and my focus, and I practiced silencing my mind,
settling my frantic thoughts. When we
engaged in tough, strengthening poses, I simply rested and stretched. I also
paid close attention to the advice and encouragement that my friends offered. All of these things could rescue me in a
50-miler gone wrong.
 |
| Pre-race Pasta Party |
I was really excited that my parents decided to drive all
the way from Pennsylvania to cheer me on for the race. The night before the race my friend Miranda
was kind enough to host a whole group of us at her house for pasta and nervous
chatter. A few months earlier I’d talked
Miranda into signing up with this race with me.
Over the last few years she and I have shared many hard, easy, pleasant,
and awful miles together on the trail.
It seemed perfectly fitting that we conquer this distance together, and
I was relieved to be able to spend the evening before with her and my other
friends. My friend Neoh (also running
the 50M) prepared a series of motivational short films for us to watch. I had no idea at the time just how much I
would need to use these videos to carry me through some difficult miles the
next day. So thanks for putting in the
time, Neoh.
 |
| Fiona helping me assemble my outfit |
Race Day:
I woke up feeling ready.
The morning of a race I usually wake up with an upset stomach and
struggle to force down some breakfast. I
often suffer from intense, nauseating anxiety, but that morning I felt motivated
and prepared. My parents buzzed with
excitement while I managed to down most of my oatmeal and a cup of coffee. In typical Stout-house fashion, Adam had
already risen and calmly eaten his eggs and coffee nearly an hour earlier. On the ride to the race I sucked down half of
a bagel and a bottle of water just as planned.
Things were going surprisingly well.
One thing was not going as perfectly as I’d hoped it would,
however: the weather. All of southern
Indiana had been soaked in downpours for over 24 hours now, and the sky
continued to pour buckets of water on us for the entire drive. As I watched
sheets of rain wash over the windshield, I told myself that this was not a
mud-prone course. I knew that rainfall like this was going to make any course
more difficult though. There were
branches and debris all over the road.
Jackson County was under severe flood warnings. This was going to be a long, wet, soggy day.
 |
| Preparations around the BARA drop bag area |
 |
| Miranda and I just before the start |
The rain cleared up and sun rose just as we lined up at the
start. Now the anxiety began to settle
in. Suddenly I felt like this was the
worst idea I’d ever come up with. It
felt a lot like the first time I found 19-year-old-me sitting in an airport,
alone, wearing field clothes, passport in hand, backpack at my side, staring at
my hiking boots and mumbling, “What in the hell
was I thinking?!” I needed someone else
to blame for this madness, and quickly.
Before I could think I turned to Miranda. She looked just as nervous as I felt, and I
hurled my anxiety in her direction. “Miranda, I blame you for this! You made me do this!” Now I’m not sure that I’ve ever
seen calm, steady Miranda get worked up, but this time my bogus accusation
actually made her squeak. “WHAT?! This
was your idea!” BAM!
No more time to argue; the start gun went off.
Our legs were suddenly carrying us forward, and our feet were instantly
soaked and freezing. The trail was a giant stream of icy standing water. We were screaming and shouting, laughing and
cussing from the cold. That was the last time I’d have complete feeling in my
feet all day.
The Jackson course consists of a 10-mile loop with about
1600 feet of elevation gain. The loop
basically runs up and down a winding ridge (max elevation ~900 feet) three
times. The trail doesn’t offer any
helpful switchbacks on these climbs; instead it gradually moves you upward
until, just as your legs begin to burn from the progressing hill, you find
yourself staring up at a wall of rock and mud.
After an exhausting climb, just as you crest the ridge top, you find
yourself bombing back down the steep peak, as a spray of gravel and mud flies
out beneath you. To hesitate on the
treacherous descents would only leave you sliding down that ridge on your
back. On the second climb up the ridge
you find yourself peaking and then partially descending a few times. In short, this course will leave you with
globs of jelly for quads and glutes.
Thankfully, I knew that all of this was coming. I’d visited the course twice during my
training and tackled this 10-mile loop three times in total. I’d run back over every climb in my head a
hundred times. By now I knew my worst
enemy in this race, and it would not be those climbs though. My competitive
nature was what threatened to derail me that day. Before Tecumseh Trail Marathon I told my
friend Miranda that I planned on taking the race easy. It was just in training
for Jackson, after all, and I was not at all trained for a marathon-distance race. Of course, everyone knew me better than to
believe that claim. My friend Jeff
Rosales later pointed out that when he saw me at the start line my eyes were
pure, steady, laser vision. The race had
sucked me in already. I went out hard
from the start, hungry for a chance to pass every female runner that I
saw. My friend Cari calls this
phenomenon the “Alicia-fire.” I passed
and passed those girls until I found myself in 5th place and dying
fast. I was passed by another female on
the last mile of the race, and finished in 6th, disappointed to have
lost so much steam.
This was not going to be an option in a 50-mile race. I could not blast out 50 miles with full
laser vision engaged. A large proportion
of the field would inevitably go out way too fast, and if I tried to keep up
I’d be taken down with them in the end.
My silly drive to compete may leave me without so much as a finish if I
didn’t control it and learn how to settle down and hold back.
That was where my amazing friends came in to rescue me from
the moment that gun went off. Miranda
and I talked about it before. She is the
calmest, steadiest person that I know.
That girl is all wisdom and self-control, and she graciously offered her
own self-control to keep me in check that day. In hindsight it may have been
more of a sacrifice for her race than either of us thought it would. The plan
was that I would not let her out of my sight for the first 10-mile loop. After that I was free to reassess and break
away, but that first 10-mile loop was all about keeping close to Miranda and
blocking out every other person around me.
As it turned out, our friend Neoh did the same. Neoh is a seasoned ultra-runner by now. He’s done a few 50’s and even a 100-miler, so
he knew all about relaxing into an easy rhythm early on. I’d run nearly as many training runs with
Neoh as I had Miranda, so having both of them next to me on the first loop not
only kept my pace under control, but it also kept me anxiety-free. My lack of anxiety meant a strong, settled
stomach, so I made some serious ground on calorie-intake from the start line as
well.
 |
| Neoh, me, and Miranda at a DINO 15K circa March, 2012 |
The first 1.6 miles were all on an incline. I knew this from looking at my own maps of
the course. As I reached mile 1 I knew
that I would see the first steep ridge-top-climb. Everything until then was just going to be a
little warm-up to loosen my legs. After
about five minutes of running on a slight incline a lead pack began to
breakaway. Just as they did, a woman
with blonde braids and a pale blue cap came blasting from behind me and zoomed
ahead to join those leaders. Here was the first test of my self-control. I
wanted so badly to chase down “blonde-braids.”
That was my place, not hers. I had to settle myself down and take the
first of many reality checks. I heard my friend Steph’s voice in my head. I replayed the message she’d sent me just
that morning as she was preparing for her own 50-miler, “run your own race.” I turned to Miranda and said it out loud,
“Run my own race, right? Plenty of time,
right?” Miranda smiled at me, “Let it
go, just let it go. Should I sing that
song for you?” Neoh snapped at me,
“Don’t you dare go after her.” I took a
deep breath, shook out my arms and shoulders, and watched the new first place
female disappear into the distance.
 |
| Thanks for the useful advice, Steph! |
For the next 10 miles I just joked and laughed with Miranda
and Neoh. I was probably driving them
crazy, but the pace felt so pleasant and relaxed that I was having a
blast. The scenery was gorgeous. We’d started running just as the sun rose and
the rain stopped, so we were just gliding up and down these hills through a crisp,
misty morning air. My feet felt like ice
blocks, but the rest of my body was comfortable. Every mile or so I let my pace carry me away
a bit, and Neoh threw some of his tough love at me. “WALK,” he’d shout. If I started to break away I would hear his
whistle and Miranda’s chuckle. On the flat stretches I got quiet and started to
engage too heavily. After a moment or
two of my heavy breathing and faster striding Neoh muttered, “Relax. Settle down,” and I would shake
out my arms, take a deep breath, and back off of my pace again.
Entering the drop bag area at the end of the loop felt like
a whirlwind each time. Still, this setup
may have been my favorite thing about the race design. Spectators and crew members hung out in a
warm building all day long. They could
even watch for me through a giant window. As I rolled into this area a few
people confirmed what I already suspected, “2nd place female.” I tried to not even listen as I heard it
repeated. This was not the time to think
about it. There was still too much room
for change in this race. My parents
chased me into the building, helping me grab what I need and rattling off
suggestions, asking whether or not I was eating. I threw another Uncrustables PB&J in my front pocket (Hey, Uncrustables, are you reading this?
Let’s talk sponsorship already.), and ran off to catch up with Miranda
and Neoh, still bouncing with enthusiasm and peppiness.
Loop 1 Stats:
- 2:02:06 (12:13 min/mile)
- 2nd female, 14th overall
- ~600 calories consumed, 10 ounces of liquid
- Uncrustables PB&J (200 cal), 1 Happy Tots Baby Food Pouch (100 cal), 1 Key Lime Pie Lara Bar (200 cal), ~10 oz of Tailwind (100 cal)
- One bathroom stop
Loop 2: Miles 11-20
We descended into the trail-river
leading away from the lodge for the second time of the day. Of course, by now a few hundred pairs of feet
had crossed over the mud and through the standing water, making this area even
more treacherous, yet just as icy cold.
Neoh led us into the ice-swamp first, hopping over fallen, floating logs
and debris and sloshing through the muddy water. Then came Miranda with me just behind her,
still chatting away. Suddenly I watched
poor Miranda step onto a log with her right foot, then attempt to strike the
ground at the bottom of the water with her left. Apparently a pothole had formed under all of
the standing water though, and I watched my friend take a full frontal dive
into that icy cold water and over the giant log. Water sprayed everywhere, but
Miranda was back on her feet before I could reach out to grab her. She was
dripping mud, grass, and frigid water. It looked like the cold and the shock
had taken the wind out of her, but I’ll be damned if I heard a single negative
word come out of her mouth. Miranda just moved forward, checking herself and
wiping down her hydration valve as she went.
We all got a little bit quieter
after that. Neoh was mumbling about some
familiar pain in his foot, and the first of my taper pains started to kick in. The
back of my knee was tightening up and burning as we approached the first major
climb of the loop. The pain threatened to panic me, but I remembered my friend
Erin’s advice: “Something will go
wrong out there, and something in
your body will make things difficult. The good and bad news is that sooner or
later that thing will probably fade away and be replaced by something else. You
just have to have the patience to wait it out and the resourcefulness to handle
the next obstacle.” “Okay,” I thought, “here is your first something. Time to ride it out. You’re prepared to
do that.” Around that time a big
gang of Quaff On runners competing in the 50K passed us. I wasn’t expecting to see them in this race,
and my friend Jeff Yoder was leading the pack.
It was a perfect time for another familiar face and a little distraction. I exchanged a few words with him, and he
mentioned that the hills were giving him more than he’d bargained for
today. I realized that I wasn’t the only
one out here powering through some challenges, put my knee out of my mind, and
locked into my power hike up the climb.
Shortly after that I lost Miranda and Neoh. I wouldn’t see either of them out on the
course again that day.
I found a nice little rhythm, and
while my knee continued to voice its presence, the pain always felt completely
manageable. On the more gradual climbs
I’d find what I call my “Steph-shuffle,” shortening my stride, dropping my
arms, focusing on quick, light, little movements. Then as each climb reached its steepest point
I’d switch to my “mountain-power-hike.”
It was at these points that I realized how much my year spent tracking chimps
up and down a rift valley in Uganda had prepared me for this. My hike seemed to be much more efficient than
that of the people around me, and I did some serious passing as I hiked up to
the ridge tops.
After completing all of the major
ascents and descents on the loop I was relieved to give my stride a chance to
open up a little on the half-mile section of flat road between mile 17 and
18. There is a short two-way traffic
section there, so I also enjoyed seeing some other faces. I was passing some
50K runners and a few 50-milers. Then,
in the distance, I saw a pair of blonde braids sticking out under a blue
hat. Could
it be?! It was. I found her! I did not expect to see this girl already. In
my head I would just keep taking things slowly and easily for another loop
after this one. After I reach the
30-mile mark, I told myself, I would kick it into my next gear and hunt down
any girl ahead of me. But here I was at
mile 19, staring ahead at the first-place female, and she was walking on an easy flat. This felt too good to be true. I decided that
instead of blasting by her I’d slow down and take stock of the situation for a
moment. I tucked in a few meters behind her and found my Steph-shuffle again. Blonde-braids didn’t appear to be suffering
from any acute injury. She wasn’t
limping or favoring anything. Her gait was relatively normal, but I could tell
that she was already quite tired. This
girl had gone out way too fast. We
weren’t even halfway into the race, and she looked like she just wanted to be
finished. I opened my stride back up to pass her. “Hey, nice job!” I shouted. That was when I
also realized this girl hadn’t done many trail races, if any. She looked a little bewildered over why a
stranger was shouting encouragement. “Uh, thanks,” she muttered.
 |
| Adam trying to power through some serious hip pain. |
As I approached the end of the
second loop I made the difficult decision to take some NSAIDs. I usually hate
to do this, especially while running. It can be dangerous for your stomach
during exercise, but my knee was making me too nervous to go on like this. I
ran in shouting, “Three Ibuprofen please!”
That was when I saw him. Adam was
standing there looking at me, and this could only mean one thing: He’d
DNF’d. I would later get confirmation
from him that his hip injury took him out of the 50K that day, as we’d both
strongly suspected it might. At this moment I could not process that thought
though. The idea of anyone close to me
stopping threatened to make me do the same thing. I knew that if I asked him about it I would
obsess over the idea for the next several hours, and my mind was going to be a
fragile thing from 20 miles on. My crew grabbed me some Ibuprofen as I selected
a couple of snacks. I decided I’d had
enough Uncrustables for a while and
opted for a bag of peanut butter-filled pretzel bites. My mom grabbed my pack
to check the bladder and realized I was in serious danger of dehydrating myself
if I kept drinking so little. Everyone started harassing me. My mom forced a
bottle of water into my hand and told me to take a few gulps before I was
allowed to leave. That was when she
whispered, “You know, you’re in first now.”
“I know,” I said, “ but she’s not far behind.” Just then, I saw blonde-braids approaching
the lodge through the window. “Time to
go!” I shouted, and off I went.
Loop 2 Stats:
·
2:09:33 (12:57 min/mile)
·
1st female, 9th overall
·
~650 calories consumed, 5 ounces of liquid
1
Uncrustables PB&J (200 cal), 1 Happy Tots Baby Food Pouch (100 cal), 1 Key
Lime Pie Lara Bar (200 cal), ½ Cherry Pie Lara Bar (100 cal), ~5 oz of Tailwind (50 cal)
·
One bathroom stop
Loop 3: Miles 21-30
As I left the lodge I nearly
wiped out in exactly the same hole where I’d witnessed Miranda’s epic belly
flop. I chuckled to myself over the
irony, made a mental note to calm down, and moved onward. Within a mile the pain in my knee
disappeared. I was trying to sip some
Tailwind every three or so minutes as I grabbed another pretzel bite out of my
pocket (Note: Kroger peanut butter pretzel bites are like absolute magic-sauce
in an ultra!). My stomach was doing
well, my legs were feeling awesome, but my mind was beginning to carry me
away. I was now obsessed with this girl somewhere behind me. I couldn’t believe
that I was already in first place. I felt like this was dangerously impossible,
like it was going to be ripped away from me any moment. That was when my friend
Scott’s advice saved my race. Coach Breeden gave me a nice little lecture about
confidence during my taper, and I replayed it in my head as I approached the
first climb of the loop. “You are capable
of more than you realize,” I heard him say, “You just have to let yourself be
better than you were before.” This realization began to calm me down. As I
hiked to the top of the ridge I reached for my headphones. I needed a
distraction for a while, and that was just what I’d prepared my magic playlist
to do.
Of course my shuffle feature
selected my favorite song just as I crested the ridge. The view, the
endorphins, the realization that I was in the place in this race that I
deserved… it covered my body in goose bumps all at once. I started giggling as
I bombed back down the ridge, run-dancing all the way. Loop 3 turned out to be my favorite section
of the race.
My friend Rebecca drove all the
way from Chicago to volunteer at this race. She was the first person to talk me
into giving trail running a try back in 2012, because Rebecca has the kind of
contagious enthusiasm that can make anyone think her ideas sound like perfect
fun. The race director placed her at an aid station just after the final descent
from the ridge top, about midway through the loop. As I rounded the bend into
her aid station, smile beaming, legs trotting easily, she chased me down shouting
about drinking more water. Clearly my crew had texted her, and this gave me a
pretty good laugh. Then she mumbled that Neoh was injured as well. “He’s out,”
she said to me.
The realization that another
person close to me had DNF’d this race was tough to grapple with. I spent the next couple of miles trying to
get those thoughts out of my head, trying to forget that not finishing was even
an option today. That was when more of my beautiful friends appeared out of
nowhere. Just as I approached the easy flat on the road, a familiar, silver SUV
blasted into the parking area, and three lunatics flew out of it. Erin, Banul,
and Amara were jumping up and down and screaming hysterically for me, and just
like that all of the negativity floated away from me. I gave them a crazy wave and then spent the
last 3 miles of the loop laughing about how goofy my friends are.
As I ran into the lodge area Adam
tried to force a cup of water into my hands.
All that I could think about right then was getting to a toilet though.
I ran into the bathroom, and Erin came after me. I think everyone was a little
concerned that I was puking in there. “Alicia… whatcha doin’,” I heard her say,
“Poopin’!” I shouted. I heard some snickers come from an adjacent stall, and a relieved
sigh from Erin. Erin continued to ask how I was doing, how much I was eating,
etc. She seemed to be pretty satisfied with my responses. When I came out my
crew was praising me for drinking enough Tailwind, finally. Erin and Adam helped
my parents get me a refill. My dad put some salt tablets in my hand and asked
what else I needed. My stomach had started to give me a little trouble by the
end of the loop. I’d forgotten to take my salt tablets on the last loop, and
I’d needed a bathroom stop for some time. I popped a gin-gin candy to settle my
stomach and spur some digestion and stuffed a little bag of goldfish into my
pocket. Off I went to the sound of my
friend Arielle’s cheering.
·
2:05:29 (12:33 min/mile)
·
1st female, 6th overall
·
~480 calories consumed, 20 ounces of liquid
o
½ Plum
Baby Food Pouch (50 cal), ½ Cherry Pie Lara Bar (100 cal), ~10 peanut butter
pretzel bites (130 cal), ~20 oz of
Tailwind (200 cal)
·
Two bathroom stops
Loop 4: Miles 31-40
My mood became more serious in
loop 4. The race was beginning to take
its toll on my energy levels, and that was testing my motivation. I tried not
to think about the fact that I was now running farther than I ever had before. While
I enjoyed this thought during my long training runs, I knew that it would
overwhelm me today. By this point in the race I would not allow myself to think
about anything beyond the next climb. As I approached each climb I actually
felt relieved to be reaching another checkpoint on my mental map, rather than
intimidated and dismayed by the burning in my quads and glutes. The gin-gin was settling my stomach, so I
began to munch on my goldfish crackers. I quickly decided that these were magic
goldfish crackers, because they tasted like heaven. I stuffed the whole bag
down my throat as fast as I could, and my mood started to improve a bit.
Still, as I progressed through
the course, I was getting incredibly sleepy. In hindsight this may have
partially been low blood sugar. It became increasingly difficult to even keep
my eyes open. I found myself shutting them for a few moments here and there
while I was still in motion. I wanted to go to sleep so badly. I’d told myself
at the start of the race that I could start drinking coke from mile 40 on, but
I was starting to wonder if I should have grabbed a cup of it at the 30-mile
mark. That was when I realized that I was starting to feel a little sorry for
myself, starting to mutter out loud about how difficult this was, how tired I
was, how stupid these *$&%(@#* hills were. I made a conscious decision to
bring to mind the videos that we’d all watched the night before. In one of the
videos an ultra runner said, “The absolute worst thing that you can do for
yourself out there is to have a pity party.” I mumbled this to myself, “No pity
parties, stop whining. Don’t be a baby.” I thought of what Sally McRae said in
Western Time: “What a privilege it is to have a body that lets me do this, to
be out there accomplishing these things.”
“What a privilege indeed,” I said to myself. Just then I crested the
ridge and looked out at the gorgeous scenery below.
This made me think of my other
life in Africa. I pictured the staff at
Semliki Chimpanzee Project, and I thought about how excited they would be if
they knew what I was doing right now. In my delirium I could hear sweet Moses
cheering for me, “Go Reeeech, go! Win
her! Win them all!” I touched the
bandana that I’d wrapped around my neck at the start of the race. It was a Kenyan flag that I raced with to
honor my best Kenyan friend, Charles. He
would be so proud of me if I finished this thing.
And so went the fourth loop: me
fighting the dark thoughts with the faces and voices of my friends in Uganda
and Kenya. In hindsight, I probably
looked like a complete crazy person out there talking to myself, smiling and
frowning, laughing and tearing up.
That’s what ultras do to you though; they help you find those bright and
dark corners of your mind and your past.
If you’re lucky, as I was, those bright and dark corners will pick you
up and drag you to the next checkpoint.
When I approached the end of the
4th loop Banul was waiting at the base of the hill. “What do you need?” he shouted at me. Without a moment to consider I shouted back,
“Less #%*#$& mud!” “SHE NEEDS LESS MUD!” he shouted up the hill at my family and the race volunteers. I started laughing and remembered what I
really wanted, “some coke too, please,” I mumbled. “AND COKE!” he screamed. As I entered the lodge my crew handed me a
big cup of coke. I went for another
bathroom break, and Erin followed me in again.
“How are your legs?” “Pretty good, some aches and pains here and there,
but all manageable.” “How’s your gut?” “It’s okay. I’m not taking in as much as
before, but I’m still getting 100-200 calories per hour, and I’m peeing
regularly.” “Well that’s not as much as I’d like, but okay. How’s your head?” I paused.
I didn’t want anyone to see that I was starting to struggle, and I
definitely didn’t want my crew to know I’d been feeling a little sorry for
myself on that loop. “It’s okay, I guess.
I’m holding it together.” I knew
Erin could tell that I was fighting a bit of a mental battle now. The mud and
the hills were starting to break me.
“The next girl is about 20-30 minutes behind you,” she told me, “You’ve
got this as long as you stay calm.
Keep it steady and don’t do anything stupid. You do not need to race this final
lap.” She followed me out of the
bathroom and coached me a little as I tried to drink some coke. “Remember,” she told me, “stay calm.” “Calm,
I’m calm, be calm,” I kept muttering to myself. Just then my headphones got tangled in the
strap on my pack and I had a minor melted down over it. “What the hell is wrong
with these stupid things?!” I shouted. Other spectators stared at me a little. Adam helped me untangle them, and my dad
started teasing me, “Oh yeah, you sound really calm Alicia.” That jab was what I needed to snap back into
a bit of reality. I laughed a little about how crazy I sounded, popped another
gin-gin, grabbed a pack of cracker sandwiches, and sipped some coke. I put my
headlamp on before I dashed out the door and back onto the course.
 |
| Let the crazy phase begin. |
Loop 4 Stats:
·
2:13:09 (13:19 min/mile)
·
1st female, 5th overall
·
~450 calories consumed, 15 ounces of liquid
o
3 handfuls
of goldfish crackers (130 cal), 2 gin-gins (70 cal), ½ Key Lime Pie Lara Bar
(100 cal), 15 oz Tailwind (150 cal)
·
Two bathroom stops
Loop 5: Miles 41-50
I’d gone from periodic muttering to
full-scale, out-loud conversations with myself by the time I started my final
loop. “Stay calm, you’ve got this. This is it,” I kept saying to myself. Even though Erin told me that blonde-braids
was 20-30 minutes back, I was terrified that I might lose my lead. The last time Erin saw her would have been at
mile 30. I’d slowed down quite a bit
since then. What if she was
surging? What if I was dying while she
gained on me? These thoughts were pretty
silly. After all, I’d seen blonde-braids
looking pretty tired at mile 19, and I hadn’t really slowed down that much since then. Still, I could not get that Tecumseh finish
out of my head; I couldn’t escape that feeling of being passed in the final mile.
I was terrified that today would be a repeat. I started wondering if another
female further back could come out of nowhere, leaving both blonde-braids and I
in the dust. I really wanted this win now.
The worst part of a loop course
in inclement weather conditions is what the heavy traffic does to the trails
over time. By now what once was mud and standing water was a slippery soup. My
tired legs slid all over the trail on the final loop. I tried to focus my
thoughts on each climb ahead, tried to think about conquering every hill one
last time and saying goodbye forever. I really wanted some more coke, but as I
passed the first aid station on the loop I saw that none of the cups were
filled, and the volunteers didn’t look as eager as those at Rebecca’s station. I did not dare stop and waste time for a cup
of coke there when I had a first place finish so close to me.
 |
| Me on the final loop of the swamp-course |
I passed Rebecca just as darkness
descended. She was bobbing up and down,
screaming, waving, and cheering like mad for me. Inside I felt like I was waving back and
shouting at her, but in reality all that I could manage then were some grunts.
Still, I felt my stride quicken a bit as I thought of my other friends and
family waiting for me back at the finish. Shortly after the darkness was upon
me I clicked on my headlamp.
The dark was the most difficult
part of the race. The light from my
headlamp was glaring on the slick mud. This meant that I could no longer easily
find the most stable places to plant my feet. I was sliding back and forth and
running in place through the mud. At least I’d made it through the worst of the
climbs now though. I had one more minor hill and then an “easy” run into the
finish, or so I kept telling myself. Every now and then I would see glimmering flashes
of light from other runners’ headlamps. It was hard to tell whether they were
approaching me or just running on a nearby section of trail farther back on the
course. There was no way to know if they were on the same lap as me or even in
the same race. Still, the sparkle of the headlamps exacerbated my paranoia.
As I ascended the final hill I kept
frantically looking down and back, checking for other women. Then, below me, I
caught sight of someone. They paused, bending over with their hands on their
knees and their head hanging low just at the base of the hill that I was
ascending. Was this her? Or was this a guy? I was too delirious to
figure it out. Whoever it was, they looked defeated. Then again, I wasn’t
feeling so great myself. I knew that hydration pack was similar to my own, but
I couldn’t tell if it was a male or female version, and it doesn’t help that a
lot of male trail runners have long hair. This panicked me a bit. I shut off my music and put my headphones
away. If this person tried to pass me, I wanted to hear them coming.
It was also around then that I
realized my Garmin was going to read more than 50 miles for this course. I’d
gone the wrong way once early in the race, adding on about .5 miles, and it
seemed each loop was just a bit over 10 miles. I wanted to know exactly how much longer I had. I
descended onto the flat section of road where I picked up another runner and
asked what his readout was. “I think we’re at 29 miles,” he mumbled. “WHAT?!” My brain wasn’t working, and the
sound of “29-miles” made me want to scream. Luckily it only took me five
seconds and no visible panic to realize that this guy was running the 50K. His
mile-29 was my mile-48. “Okay, phew, 2
miles,” I thought. Then it also occurred to me that I was still lapping
50K-ers on this course. That meant I must be doing pretty well. I took heart
and forged ahead.
Just as I was turning towards the
lake, my final stretch of trail, I came upon two women running the opposite
direction (this was a two-way section of the course). One of them wildly tried
to stop me, shouting, “You’re lost! You’re going the wrong way!” It only scared me for a moment before I
chuckled, “No, really I’m not.” As I ran around her I heard her friend say,
“she’s not lost, she’s almost done,”
and I smiled to myself. “You’re almost
done. You’ve #&%&$ got this s****, Alicia,” I said out loud to myself
(like a lunatic).
Much like Tecumseh Trail
Marathon, this course finishes with a loop around the lake. Now that it was
dark I could see the lights from the lodge reflecting and sparkling over the
water, and this sudden, intense excitement replaced every negative sensation in
my body. I could actually hear my dad and Erin talking and shouting to one
another across the lake. I realized that they probably saw my headlamp, because
they sounded really excited. I was so
close to them!
Just as I approached the dam I
noticed a dark figure ahead of me. Some guy was literally rolling around in the
mud, wrestling with the hill, trying to pull himself upright and move upward,
but failing to do so. “Hey, nice job!” I
shouted from behind. “Oh, dude! Thank
god!” he shouted back to me. “I didn’t think I’d need a light for this loop. I
don’t have any light, do you mind if I use yours to the finish?” “Yeah, no
problem,” I replied. I could tell he was still feeling really strong, but had
probably been slowed down just by trying to make his way down the trail in
complete darkness for the last hour. He was chatting like crazy at me, but I
could barely focus on the things he was saying, something about mud and
headlamps and mountains, I think. He was probably getting annoyed with me,
because no matter how hard I tried to keep my headlamp on the trail ahead of
us, I kept throwing glances behind us, still waiting for another female to pass
me any moment. “This is just too good to
be true,” I kept thinking.
It wasn’t though, because we were
about to enter the finish shoot. “Man, this is the toughest 50 I’ve ever done,”
tattoo-guy said to me, “I’ve done a few, but it has never taken me this long.”
“This is my first 50, my first ultra,” I said to him. “No shit?! Right on, man!
You can conquer any of them now!” Just then the light of the finishing shoot
began to surround us. He fired up that extra power in his legs. “Hey,
congratulations, and welcome to the club, man!” he shouted as he sped ahead. I
let him go, hanging back at the full, pathetic power that my legs could muster,
soaking up this powerful moment. Let’s face it, you only get a first time at
anything once, and this occasion begged to be savored. I could see my crew
before they could really recognize me, and when they realized it was me that
was running behind tattoo-guy, the crowd erupted into screaming and cheers. My
eyes filled with tears as I collapsed into Adam’s hug. I won my first ultra.
 |
| Holy crap, I just won! |
As it turns out, my paranoia was
even more ridiculous than I’d realized. My crazy friend Neoh had gone back onto
the course to pace Miranda through her final lap. They found blonde-braids at
the last aid station and left her in the dust. One of my best friends, Miranda,
finished 2 hours later, in second place.
Blonde-braids came in five minutes later as the 3rd place
female. Miranda and I had swept our first ultra together, and all our friends
and family pulled us there.
 |
| What?! I got second place! |
 |
| Miranda was pretty tired. |
 |
| BARA Girls Sweep! |
 |
| Erin was still taking care of me. |
 |
| Totally run-drunk. |
 |
| My family. And my beer and cheetos. |
 |
| Just some of my people. <3 them all. |
·
2:17:41 (13:46 min/mile)
·
1st female, 5th overall
·
~630 calories consumed, 16 ounces of liquid
o
6 oz Coke
(100 cal), 1 package of cracker sandwiches (200 cal), 1 Cherry Pie Lara Bar
(200 cal), 1 gin-gin (30 cal), 10 oz Tailwind (100 cal)
·
Two bathroom stops
Overall Stats:
·
10:46:58
(12:56 min/mile)
·
Official
Garmin readout: 52 miles (adjusted pace of 12:27 min/mile, including breaks)
·
8,894
feet of elevation gain (according to Garmin)
·
1st
female, 5th overall
·
2,810
calories (~260 cal/hour)
·
~70 ounces
of liquid
Thank-you’s:
Just in case you hadn’t already figured
it out from this report, I’m really grateful for my friends and family that
were there for me on this journey. Thanks
first to my husband, Adam, for being just as crazy as I am. He wrote my lifting plans for me, helped me
through some difficult runs, and put up with all of my taper mood swings. Thanks to my crazy parents that drove all the
way here to support me, rather than questioning whether or not I really should
be running 50 miles in one day. And
thanks to the rest of my crew: Erin, Banul, Amara, Arielle, Rebecca. I ran this whole race feeling like everyone
around me must be completely jealous of the support network that I had around
me. Thanks to Neoh and Miranda for setting up the whole day for me from the
start, and for keeping me company on so many long, short, fast, and slow
training runs. Thanks to Heather for shouting some helpful encouragement on the
course and being there to celebrate at the end. And thanks to all of my
friend-coaches that came to my rescue when I decided I wanted to try an ultra
this year but had no idea where to begin: Steph, Ben, Scott, and Jeff. Thanks to my other support network that was with
me in spirit: the whole BARA crew, Cari, Rickie, Rachel, Caro, Christy, Jamy, and
Katy. And thanks to Uncrustables for powering me.
 |
| brought to you by Uncrustables |
