I wish you all the very best for a joyful new year and a healthy, peaceful and prosperous 2016!
Chronicling foolish optimism and poor judgement in the realm of endurance sports. Doing stupid things so you don't have to!
Showing posts with label 2015. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2015. Show all posts
Thursday, December 31, 2015
Hey 2015 - don't let the door hit ya..
I'm not going to be too upset to see this year gone - I've spent a lot of it hurting in one way or another, but I'm looking forward to fresh opportunities and new adventures in the coming months.
I wish you all the very best for a joyful new year and a healthy, peaceful and prosperous 2016!
I wish you all the very best for a joyful new year and a healthy, peaceful and prosperous 2016!
Friday, December 18, 2015
The holidays awaken
With next Friday being Christmas day and all of the attendant insanity that brings, I have no idea whether or not I'll manage another blog post before the end of this year. Thus, I'm just going to wish you all a joyful Christmas and a bright, safe and delight-filled holiday season right now!
I truly appreciate every single one of you who takes the time to stop by and read whatever nonsense I've spewed out onto the internet this week, and I wish you all your heart's desires for the new year...though I can't guarantee the quality of my blog will improve in the least.
Nonetheless, from Tanker the Wonder Sherpa and myself, be safe, stay warm, and be merry!
I truly appreciate every single one of you who takes the time to stop by and read whatever nonsense I've spewed out onto the internet this week, and I wish you all your heart's desires for the new year...though I can't guarantee the quality of my blog will improve in the least.
Nonetheless, from Tanker the Wonder Sherpa and myself, be safe, stay warm, and be merry!
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| And may the Force be with you! |
Friday, December 4, 2015
Friday, November 13, 2015
Recovery
Race season is over, and I'm slowly getting my legs back under me.
I waited a full week to run after Horror Hill, which included being beaten up in the most helpful and kind ways by an ultra-badass massage therapist. I did a lot of rehab exercises for my stupid posterior chain (which is causing the knee pain by messing with my IT band), and hoped for the best as I set out on a trail with Tanker the Wonder Sherpa chasing me through some light rain and darkness.
It went poorly. My knee hurt after 20mins, and I was in pretty poor shape even walking the rest of the evening.
I'm still not strong enough to run back-to-back days, and had some soreness at the end of a 26min run (in 48kph/30mph winds that were gusting to 73kph/45mph and sideways rain) last night, but the knee was ok again this morning from the very moment I awoke. It seems that it's responding to the barrage of exercises, stretching and foam rolling I'm throwing at it, so I have high hopes of carefree runs through the woods before the snow flies.
Of course, I do need to get the leaves raked, too. Amazing how much stuff gets pushed to the side when racing is afoot!
I waited a full week to run after Horror Hill, which included being beaten up in the most helpful and kind ways by an ultra-badass massage therapist. I did a lot of rehab exercises for my stupid posterior chain (which is causing the knee pain by messing with my IT band), and hoped for the best as I set out on a trail with Tanker the Wonder Sherpa chasing me through some light rain and darkness.
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| Because why do anything the easy way? |
It went poorly. My knee hurt after 20mins, and I was in pretty poor shape even walking the rest of the evening.
We did have a wonderful ride on the Cambridge to Paris Rail Trail on Sunday. It was chilly but sunny, and despite almost all the leaves having fallen, the trail is always beautiful.
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| Can't complain about this in November |
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| Or really any other time of year. |
I took Monday off to do some yoga, trying to treat the injury as an opportunity to do some other things that I seldom have time for. Tuesday, though, I braved the rain and darkness once more...and returned triumphant!
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| HAPPYDANCE! |
I'm still not strong enough to run back-to-back days, and had some soreness at the end of a 26min run (in 48kph/30mph winds that were gusting to 73kph/45mph and sideways rain) last night, but the knee was ok again this morning from the very moment I awoke. It seems that it's responding to the barrage of exercises, stretching and foam rolling I'm throwing at it, so I have high hopes of carefree runs through the woods before the snow flies.
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| It's not too much to ask, is it? |
Of course, I do need to get the leaves raked, too. Amazing how much stuff gets pushed to the side when racing is afoot!
Friday, November 6, 2015
Horror Trail Run 6-hour Ultra - Saturday, October 31st, 2015
My goals for this race were pretty modest, what with having a messed up knee/IT band from Vulture Bait 2 weeks prior. Not that just having run a 50k a fortnight beforehand would possibly be enough to slow me down or anything.
Still, I wanted to give it a whack, so I rolled out of my nice, warm bed and slapped a bunch of tape on.
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| Plus incredibly stylish slippers. |
Then Tanker and I headed up to Camp Heidelberg where I made an attempt at honouring both it being Halloween and the absurdity of even starting a hilly ultra while already injured.
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| The devil made me do it. |
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| Robin shivering in behind us - nice to have both you and Chris on course! |
Start running down the hill to the pond, around and back up halfway, then into the woods. The knee feels ok - maybe I've been worried for nothing? Up the giant hill and its little brother, then through the woods, back down the very steep descent, and up to the gravel driveway.
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| So far so good. |
Run up the driveway to the building, then into the other bit of woods. The knee is already starting to complain.
Bugger.
Down the long grassy section and back onto the driveway, through the timing mats. One lap down, which puts me halfway to my jeez-I-gotta-be-able-to-make-it-through-at-least-5k goal.
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| Good deal! |
I'd also pinned my race bib onto my regular running skirt underneath my costume, which had partially been chosen for its ability to be donned and doffed fairly easily. I wasn't sure which was going to give out first: my knee, or my tolerance for prancing around in something designed to be worn with a pair of stiletto heels instead of trail shoes and gaiters.
Back around, and yep - the knee is definitely not in great shape. But I'm still rolling along ok, and came to see how much I could do. I decided I'd wait on getting any nutrition into me until I knew whether or not I'd make it past 90mins, and while I had to pee (having missed my chance to visit the portajohns one last time before the race start) I figured I'd wait until I either had to drop out or was over an hour - whichever came first.
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| As things progressed this downhill was all I'd end up running. |
It ended up taking me an hour and 13 minutes to get through 10km, including a washroom stop around 1h5m. The knee was sore, but it would ease off at times - either after I stopped to stretch (which was happening multiple times per lap) or sometimes after running uphill. Still, it was definitely worsening with each loop.
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| And I was walking a lot more. |
Nonetheless, I continued on. Once I got through 90mins I ate a peanut butter Hammer gel, then had a chocolate maple pecan cookie at the aid station around 2 hours, because the only reason to run long is so you can eat cookies on course. By this time I knew I wasn't going to make it through the whole thing running, as it was getting really painful and I couldn't run uphill at all anymore. I could feel that it was the downhills that were doing the damage, but the knee was really whining a lot when the trail went up.
By the time I'd got through 8 loops / 20km, I'd been out there almost 3 hours. I ran down the long hill to the aid station, had myself a cookie, and that was the last of the running.
Tanker suggested I go inside and get the massage therapists to work on me, but I didn't want to tie them up since there were most likely 25k runners who needed them more than I did at that point. He and Manuel (who was working the aid station instead of running because he was injured, making him much smarter than I am) tried to convince me that actually being injured gave me a decent claim to some help from the RMTs, but since I came into the race with the injury I figure that made my soreness all my own fault. I also figured if I went inside and stopped for more than a couple of minutes I'd probably never get going again, and my knee felt better (walking) if I kept it moving. I wondered if I'd have the discipline, tenacity and general stubbornness to hang out and walk for 3 more hours. Only one way to find out..
Now let's take you on a journey through the Horror Trail loop, since I took my phone out with me for a lap and took some photos. We'll start with the same annotated map I've been using for years:
Having made it past 3 hours - further than I could possibly have imagined my knee holding up - I could have been content to just quit at that point, but something kept pulling me along despite my inability to run. I was still able to walk ok, so just kept myself moving and tried to be mindful of just how beautiful the woods are with the colours of autumn just beginning to fade.
As I hiked my first full loop, my knee decided it was time to start complaining while walking, too. By the second run-less loop it was painful, and I still had 2 hours to go. While not totally unexpected, I'd really hoped it would hold up better. I had no idea how many laps I'd done, and there was noone near the timing mats to ask when I came through. I talked to Tanker the Wonder Sherpa down at the pavilion where he was being his amazing self and helping out all the runners on course, and he said he'd try to find out for me. I figured I was probably at 27.5k, which meant I could lurch my way through one last loop for 30k and be done with it. There was a 25k race (as well as a 5k and a 10k, plus a 50k) as an option for Horror Trail this year, so I wanted to make sure I did more than 25k...otherwise I could have registered for a lower fee. I was very happy I hadn't signed up for 50k; at least the 6-hour is a finite amount of time, so I could just fool around eating banana and orange chunks (plus more cookies) at the aid station to reduce the amount of time I had to be in motion.
Yeah, I can be a lazy bugger sometimes.
When Tanker told me as I emerged from the woods that I had only done 25km in the four hours I'd been out there, I wasn't very happy. As much as I was sore - and not just my knee anymore, but all the other things that get beat up when you're on your feet for hours on end - I knew I couldn't let it go with what I'd managed to accomplish so far. I had another cookie and got on with it.
Conditions were actually pretty much perfect for running. The overcast day was a cool 9c/48f, and despite some heavy rain earlier in the week the trail itself was mostly hardpacked with very little mud. There seemed to be more roots to catch toes on (which I thankfully did not do this time). The weather seemed to be following the usual Horror Trail Run pattern, too:
Eventually I got myself sorted out and threw my gloves back on, then strolled off back into the woods. I said again that this might very well be my last lap, as I wasn't sure if the vest would be enough to keep me from going hypothermic.
What really never ceased to amaze me was the incredible respect and encouragement shown by the other racers on the course. It seemed like everyone had a kind word for me, despite the fact I was just some silly girl out meandering around in the woods on a bum knee because I'm too dumb to quit. I tried to make sure I said something to cheer on everyone around me, and did my best to stay out of other people's way - I actually felt a bit bad about continuing to hike around the course as I'm sure I was a bit of an impediment to other runners despite my efforts to get off the trail to let people pass as soon as I heard them coming.
By this point I was actually having to limp my way up and down the steeper sections, and my knee was a constant source of pain. My 11th loop took me over 40mins, bringing me to 4h42m for 27.5km...but since I'd only have time for 2 more laps, I felt like it would be stupid to quit just then. I also didn't want to pull Tanker away from the aid station, because he really is a huge asset to everyone on course - filling bottles, fetching snacks from people's coolers, and generally making everybody's life a bit easier.
So, onward. I finished 30km in 5h15m, picked up my bag of noodles to mark where I stopped at the 6-hour horn, and needed a portajohn stop - the huge problem with walking is that it takes so freakin' long to reach the thing once you realise you need it! I figured with having to pee I'd probably end up coming through the timing mats right as the race ended, as I knew I was slow as hell.
Not, however, slow enough. Maybe it was Robin calling me a rock star or Chris telling me I'm tough for sticking it out (if you're gonna be dumb, you've gotta be tough), but I seemed to move a little quicker through my 13th lap. When I came through the timing mats with just over 10mins to go I knew I couldn't just stop there - I even tried to run a little bit (making sure Tanker got a shot for posterity) once I got onto the sort of flat grassy section that leads to the pavilion, but only made it about 10 feet.
I tottered my hurty-squirty way down around the pond one last time, then back up the hill and into the woods, checking my watch all the while. I came to the bottom of the big stinkin' hill with a couple of minutes left to go, so limped my way up it once more just before the horn sounded. I can't be sure whether that was the one or not (because of partial loops in the past), but at some point that afternoon I made my 100th lifetime trip up that damn hill - took me 6 consecutive years of running Horror Hill/Horror Trail, but that dubious accomplishment is now mine.
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| My smile is the only part of me that still works properly. |
Tanker suggested I go inside and get the massage therapists to work on me, but I didn't want to tie them up since there were most likely 25k runners who needed them more than I did at that point. He and Manuel (who was working the aid station instead of running because he was injured, making him much smarter than I am) tried to convince me that actually being injured gave me a decent claim to some help from the RMTs, but since I came into the race with the injury I figure that made my soreness all my own fault. I also figured if I went inside and stopped for more than a couple of minutes I'd probably never get going again, and my knee felt better (walking) if I kept it moving. I wondered if I'd have the discipline, tenacity and general stubbornness to hang out and walk for 3 more hours. Only one way to find out..
Now let's take you on a journey through the Horror Trail loop, since I took my phone out with me for a lap and took some photos. We'll start with the same annotated map I've been using for years:
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| Looks simple enough. |
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| Looking back up to the pavilion on the way to the pond |
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| Two-way traffic as runner round the pond |
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| Back uphill |
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| Left into the woods |
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| Down a steep, rooty descent |
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| Up & over a wee rise then down, down, down to the pallet bridge |
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| The big stinkin' hill. |
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| Around the corner then up the second part of the hill |
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| Less-steep uphill through the forest |
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| Lots of roots and rocks in this section |
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| More roots and rocks as you wind your way along |
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| After a major turn and flatter section, this downhill is much steeper and more technical than it appears |
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| Looking back from the gravel driveway to the base of the steep descent |
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| Up the driveway to the building |
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| Around the building, through the parking lot and into the woods again |
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| The second hill in this section is short but steep |
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| Right turn, then through the rocky mud pit and onto the grass |
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| Down the loooooong hill past the building to the pavilion. The orange cones are the timing mats and start/finish line. |
Having made it past 3 hours - further than I could possibly have imagined my knee holding up - I could have been content to just quit at that point, but something kept pulling me along despite my inability to run. I was still able to walk ok, so just kept myself moving and tried to be mindful of just how beautiful the woods are with the colours of autumn just beginning to fade.
As I hiked my first full loop, my knee decided it was time to start complaining while walking, too. By the second run-less loop it was painful, and I still had 2 hours to go. While not totally unexpected, I'd really hoped it would hold up better. I had no idea how many laps I'd done, and there was noone near the timing mats to ask when I came through. I talked to Tanker the Wonder Sherpa down at the pavilion where he was being his amazing self and helping out all the runners on course, and he said he'd try to find out for me. I figured I was probably at 27.5k, which meant I could lurch my way through one last loop for 30k and be done with it. There was a 25k race (as well as a 5k and a 10k, plus a 50k) as an option for Horror Trail this year, so I wanted to make sure I did more than 25k...otherwise I could have registered for a lower fee. I was very happy I hadn't signed up for 50k; at least the 6-hour is a finite amount of time, so I could just fool around eating banana and orange chunks (plus more cookies) at the aid station to reduce the amount of time I had to be in motion.
Yeah, I can be a lazy bugger sometimes.
When Tanker told me as I emerged from the woods that I had only done 25km in the four hours I'd been out there, I wasn't very happy. As much as I was sore - and not just my knee anymore, but all the other things that get beat up when you're on your feet for hours on end - I knew I couldn't let it go with what I'd managed to accomplish so far. I had another cookie and got on with it.
Conditions were actually pretty much perfect for running. The overcast day was a cool 9c/48f, and despite some heavy rain earlier in the week the trail itself was mostly hardpacked with very little mud. There seemed to be more roots to catch toes on (which I thankfully did not do this time). The weather seemed to be following the usual Horror Trail Run pattern, too:
- Start off chilly
- Warm up as the day progresses
- Get colder again in the afternoon as the wind picks up
- Warm up again a bit just at the end
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| Rawr I'm on fire |
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| Off for a mosey.. |
What really never ceased to amaze me was the incredible respect and encouragement shown by the other racers on the course. It seemed like everyone had a kind word for me, despite the fact I was just some silly girl out meandering around in the woods on a bum knee because I'm too dumb to quit. I tried to make sure I said something to cheer on everyone around me, and did my best to stay out of other people's way - I actually felt a bit bad about continuing to hike around the course as I'm sure I was a bit of an impediment to other runners despite my efforts to get off the trail to let people pass as soon as I heard them coming.
By this point I was actually having to limp my way up and down the steeper sections, and my knee was a constant source of pain. My 11th loop took me over 40mins, bringing me to 4h42m for 27.5km...but since I'd only have time for 2 more laps, I felt like it would be stupid to quit just then. I also didn't want to pull Tanker away from the aid station, because he really is a huge asset to everyone on course - filling bottles, fetching snacks from people's coolers, and generally making everybody's life a bit easier.
So, onward. I finished 30km in 5h15m, picked up my bag of noodles to mark where I stopped at the 6-hour horn, and needed a portajohn stop - the huge problem with walking is that it takes so freakin' long to reach the thing once you realise you need it! I figured with having to pee I'd probably end up coming through the timing mats right as the race ended, as I knew I was slow as hell.
Not, however, slow enough. Maybe it was Robin calling me a rock star or Chris telling me I'm tough for sticking it out (if you're gonna be dumb, you've gotta be tough), but I seemed to move a little quicker through my 13th lap. When I came through the timing mats with just over 10mins to go I knew I couldn't just stop there - I even tried to run a little bit (making sure Tanker got a shot for posterity) once I got onto the sort of flat grassy section that leads to the pavilion, but only made it about 10 feet.
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| ALL THE NOPE |
I tottered my hurty-squirty way down around the pond one last time, then back up the hill and into the woods, checking my watch all the while. I came to the bottom of the big stinkin' hill with a couple of minutes left to go, so limped my way up it once more just before the horn sounded. I can't be sure whether that was the one or not (because of partial loops in the past), but at some point that afternoon I made my 100th lifetime trip up that damn hill - took me 6 consecutive years of running Horror Hill/Horror Trail, but that dubious accomplishment is now mine.
Fortunately there's a side trail that cuts across from the turn between the two climbs out to the short hill up to the gravel driveway, so I didn't have to pick my way back down the big hill - walking down anything steep was virtually impossible at this point. I managed to hobble my way over to the pavilion and back up to the building to get some post-race hot food and some attention from a massage therapist.
Official distance: 33.34km
22/24 O/A - 3/4 Women
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| Annotated lap summary |
So a personal worst result (though I did get on the overall women's podium by default - the 4th place lady stopped at 32.5km after 4h12m) and I didn't technically complete an ultra, as I didn't manage more than a marathon distance. It would also appear that I still don't know exactly where my breaking point is, but I did learn that my stubbornness extends to walking around in circles for 3 full hours just to get a little medal and hang out with the wonderful, friendly and supportive ultrarunner folks.
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| I think I'm ok with that. |
Many thanks to all the runners who had a kind word for me, especially Ron Gehl for talking me out of quitting and making me laugh when I was having a rough time around 4.5 hours - he knew I'd hate myself if I dropped out (and I still have a 100% finish rate when I get a straw!). Special thanks also to Hans Maier who had passed me in those last, horrible kilometers of Vulture Bait two weeks prior and gave me a hearty handshake both before the race (for not quitting at Vulture Bait) and then after the 6-hours was up for not quitting at Horror Trail. Coming from a man who was finishing his 311th (yes, three hundred and eleventh) ultra, I'm honoured to be shown such respect and camaraderie.
The biggest thanks of all go to Tanker the Wonder Sherpa, though. You're the best, babe, and I couldn't even attempt these stupid human tricks without you, let alone pull them off.
Friday, October 23, 2015
Vulture Bait 50k Trail Race - Saturday, October 17th, 2015
The two 50k ultras I've run this year are almost polar opposites. While Sulphur Springs was a huge PR and probably the most enjoyable race I've ever run, Vulture Bait turned out to be a sufferfest with some lingering craptastic consequences.
It could have been much worse - the forecast was calling for snow squalls the night before the race, with up to 15cm possible overnight. It looked like the race's 13th anniversary was going to be a little unlucky for everyone!
I packed about a million clothing options to muddle through on Saturday morning, given a starting temperature of -2c/28f with a predicted high of 5c/41f, strong winds and more rain or snow showers throughout the day. Since the race is just two 25km loops, I wouldn't have the luxury of being able to pick up or ditch clothing as the day went on.
Race morning was the usual rigmarole: out of bed at an ungawdly hour, scarf back a honey-and-almond-butter-anointed cinnamon raisin bagel, drag poor Tanker out of his warm, cozy blanket burrito (while resisting the powerful urge to climb back in with him), and down a coffee with cashew milk and chocolate syrup. Oh, and whine a lot about how I have no idea if I'll even be able to finish this damn thing as I've only got in two training runs over 2hrs long. Stupid injury.
We get to the race site in plenty of time for the 9am start, and it's decision time for apparel. I have no idea why I brought extra clothing, as I did basically the same thing I always do for spring and fall trail races - I saw a few men in shorts, but I was the only one dumb enough to go run for hours on end in a skirt.
Just after I get myself slathered in body lube and into my kit, the first of the snow showers starts. There was nothing on the ground, though, so at least the day wouldn't start as a chilly mud bath. I also spotted Ron Gehl in the crowd and got a straw from him, so I had my talisman for the race - I've never DNF'd an event where Ron gave me a straw.
Portajohn stop, then down to the start line at -2c/28f to huddle with all the skinny, fit-looking people. I'm sure I was providing more than my share of body heat as we all tried to stay warm during the few pre-race announcements that I totally didn't hear. A few minutes past nine everyone perked up and started to move, so off I went behind them like a good little lemming.
In the past, Vulture Bait has started with about a 50m run along the shore of the reservoir followed by a conga-line walk up the first short hill. This year things seemed a little more open (or I was further forward in the starting pack), and I actually ended up running solidly for the first hour or so - I think I may have made it all the way to the 2nd aid station at 11km before having to stop to get my bottle filled. The course was much more runnable than I remembered; very few hills and very little truly technical trail. There were several very rooty sections and some washed out climbs and descents where you needed to watch your footing so you didn't trip or go sliding, but the only sustained climbing was fairly gentle and either on dirt or paved roads. There was more pavement than I had remembered, too, running through laneways full of cottages and permanent trailers. With the chilly weather and the hard-packed dirt conditions that morning, it would've been an excellent day for a PR shot if I'd had the fitness fitness such a thing. As it was, I figured I'd just run for as long as I felt decent and then go into damage control mode when my lack of training started to break me down.
I ran for a bit with a fellow who had apparently read my race report from the 10th anniversary 25k edition I ran at Vulture Bait in 2012. He said this was his first ultra and he wasn't terribly fast, but I was getting winded trying to keep up with him and converse and so had to let him get away in order not to burn myself out. Since he said he'd put in training runs up to 40k in preparation and I'd accomplished a meagre 28k before buggering off into the woods for the two weekends prior to race day, I figured that would be the last I saw of him.
Having run out of EFS Liquid Shot and been unable to procure any in time for the race (seriously - is there any left for sale in Canada? What the heck is going on?), I was rolling with whatever I could get my hands on for nutrition. I started at 35mins in with an Endurance Tap gel, followed by another around 1h15mins. I've used these maple syrup-based gels a few times on training runs and found them pretty easy to get along with, even if I do somewhat despise their packaging (I try hard not to litter, which means I have to try to hang onto the little cap from the package while I get the gel into me, then put it back on before putting the empty pack in my pocket...all while running with gloves on and my hand bottle in the way).
I supplemented the Endurance Tap with a bunch of different Gu gels. While I've trained with their gels quite extensively in the past, they make very few flavours (and almost none that I like) without caffeine, and I didn't want to take in too much of the high-octane fuel lest it necessitate my contributing to the fertilization of the woods. Unfortunately, by an hour in I was alrea feeling the call of nature. I hoped there would be a portajohn at one of the aid stations, or that I'd be able to hang on until I finished the first lap and could use the conveniences by the finishing area.
I drank water, plus the one small cup of Tailwind that I poured into my bottle thinking it was water (whoops). I ran a lot. I had to walk through some steep or washed out bits (some of the downhills would be suicide to run, at least for my clumsy self), but never for more than a minute at a time - I'd generally take the opportunity to get some water and/or gel into me, as trying to do so while running through labyrinthine root systems or twisting singletrack trail was probably not good for my health, either. Meeting the ground face-first would not be the best way to beat the 7-hour time cut off, and I already harbored some doubts about my ability to do so even without any additional trauma. I tried to watch my step, having my first caffeinated gel - a salted caramel Gu - around 2h15m in. I also tried to keep taking in my surroundings, because the trails around the reservoir at Fanshawe Conservation Area are beautiful; especially so when the trees come alive with fall colour as they had this weekend. Some leaves had fallen, but most were still on the trees making a gorgeous spectacle rather than obscuring ankle-turning obstacles on the ground.
As I ran through the woods nearing the 20k mark, I saw a sign on a tree informing me of a "Redneck aid station" ahead. Further signage indicated they would not have water, sport drink, gels, bananas, or any of the typical aid station offerings (including a distinct lack of the portajohn for which I was increasingly desperate) - all they had was beer, if you asked nicely. Another sign admonished me to "run faster - we gots banjos!", and let me know "if racing wa easy we'd call it your mom" and that "you're the slowest one so far". Passing a ghetto blaster playing - as promised - banjo music, I came upon a cheerful, friendly crew of folks in camouflage clothing & Billy Bob teeth tending a table laden with tiny cups filled from a mini keg of Heineken. While I didn't indulge, I appreciated their light heartedness as I was starting to feel the worse for wear - my right hamstring was very sore, and it felt like the bandage on the big blister on my right heel was starting to peel off a bit, which wasn't comfortable at all.
I made it to the final legit aid station just before the 22k mark and got my bottle filled while I enjoyed a chunk of banana. The lovely ladies there tried to cheer me and a couple of other people who were also grabbing beverages that we only had a bit more than 3km left to go, then they looked at my bib and saw I was running the 50k, so I'd be back for another loop. I tried to smile about it despite knowing I was already slowing down and starting to fatigue - it was just another lovely romp through the woods, no? I mean I'd made it through the downhill on which I'd broken my right big toe in 2010 doing my first ever long distance trail race (I'd run some 5k events on trail, but 25k was my longest run ever back then), and even got through the stream crossing with dry feet thanks to low water levels and some well-placed stepping stones. I knew there were semi-technical sections that I'd run in the first loop that I'd have to walk in the second half, but I was managing to maintain..
..until all of about 200 metres past the final aid station, where I managed to catch the 2nd and 3rd toes of my right foot on a root. I stayed on my feet, but pain shot through my 2nd toe and I figured that good ol' Vulture Bait had broken another one. Still, I was able to run most of the last 3k, though I did walk up the hill to the finishing area. I made it through the first loop seeing the clock turn 2:48:xx, but there was no timing mat for the 50k folks so you'll just have to take my word for that. I was pretty pleased, as I was within shouting distance of my personal best time on the course - I was convinced I'd gone 2:42:xx here in 2012. It turns out my Vulture Bait 25k PR (and overall 25k trail PR for that matter) is actually 2:46:11, so I was only 2mins off my best time. This also meant that I had more than 4 hours before the cut off, and was fairly certain that I could manage to limp my way through in that time no matter how mutinous my legs got. I even entertained the foolish notion I might be able to bring this in under 6 hours..
I was directed to the reservoir side of the building that served as race headquarters and a friendly gentleman offered to refill my bottle, which I gratefully accepted. He did advise that I'd have to veer off course to use the portajohns by the parking area, though, as there was no closer washroom available. I thanked him, continued scanning for Tanker (he was around there somewhere, I was sure), and trotted off to the bank of blue plastic boxes that were my own personal version of Valhalla at that point. Fortunately the one at the very far end - the same one I'd used before the race - was unoccupied, so I took care of the matter that had become rather pressing over the last hour and three quarters.
Emerging from the portajohn, I stirred myself back into a run and headed back toward the course, seeing 2:52:xx on the clock as I headed out for my final loop. Apparently Tanker had wandered out of the building just beforehand, and looked to the South just in time to see me departing.
I crossed the dam over the reservoir around the 3 hour 15 minute mark, knocking back another Endurance Tap after getting my bottle filled at the 4.8km aid station. I was definitely slowing down and it was becoming harder to convince myself to run up even the gentle hills, but I cut myself some slack and let myself walk. The 2h48m it took me to get through the first loop was as long duration-wise as I had run in training since May, so it was understandable that I'd be feeling some fatigue. I also needed to make sure I stayed on top of nutrition and hydration, as I'd experienced the lows and grumpiness that come from the forgetfulness about eating and drinking that sets in around 3.5-4hrs into a long race for me and wanted to try to enjoy the second loop if I possibly could.
It could have been much worse - the forecast was calling for snow squalls the night before the race, with up to 15cm possible overnight. It looked like the race's 13th anniversary was going to be a little unlucky for everyone!
 |
| YIKES |
I packed about a million clothing options to muddle through on Saturday morning, given a starting temperature of -2c/28f with a predicted high of 5c/41f, strong winds and more rain or snow showers throughout the day. Since the race is just two 25km loops, I wouldn't have the luxury of being able to pick up or ditch clothing as the day went on.
Race morning was the usual rigmarole: out of bed at an ungawdly hour, scarf back a honey-and-almond-butter-anointed cinnamon raisin bagel, drag poor Tanker out of his warm, cozy blanket burrito (while resisting the powerful urge to climb back in with him), and down a coffee with cashew milk and chocolate syrup. Oh, and whine a lot about how I have no idea if I'll even be able to finish this damn thing as I've only got in two training runs over 2hrs long. Stupid injury.
 |
| MOAR YIKES |
We get to the race site in plenty of time for the 9am start, and it's decision time for apparel. I have no idea why I brought extra clothing, as I did basically the same thing I always do for spring and fall trail races - I saw a few men in shorts, but I was the only one dumb enough to go run for hours on end in a skirt.
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| Decision making isn't my strong suit...or skirt. |
Just after I get myself slathered in body lube and into my kit, the first of the snow showers starts. There was nothing on the ground, though, so at least the day wouldn't start as a chilly mud bath. I also spotted Ron Gehl in the crowd and got a straw from him, so I had my talisman for the race - I've never DNF'd an event where Ron gave me a straw.
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| Need every bit of help I can get.. |
Portajohn stop, then down to the start line at -2c/28f to huddle with all the skinny, fit-looking people. I'm sure I was providing more than my share of body heat as we all tried to stay warm during the few pre-race announcements that I totally didn't hear. A few minutes past nine everyone perked up and started to move, so off I went behind them like a good little lemming.
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| #TRUSTTHECHUB |
In the past, Vulture Bait has started with about a 50m run along the shore of the reservoir followed by a conga-line walk up the first short hill. This year things seemed a little more open (or I was further forward in the starting pack), and I actually ended up running solidly for the first hour or so - I think I may have made it all the way to the 2nd aid station at 11km before having to stop to get my bottle filled. The course was much more runnable than I remembered; very few hills and very little truly technical trail. There were several very rooty sections and some washed out climbs and descents where you needed to watch your footing so you didn't trip or go sliding, but the only sustained climbing was fairly gentle and either on dirt or paved roads. There was more pavement than I had remembered, too, running through laneways full of cottages and permanent trailers. With the chilly weather and the hard-packed dirt conditions that morning, it would've been an excellent day for a PR shot if I'd had the fitness fitness such a thing. As it was, I figured I'd just run for as long as I felt decent and then go into damage control mode when my lack of training started to break me down.
 |
| Lemming. |
I ran for a bit with a fellow who had apparently read my race report from the 10th anniversary 25k edition I ran at Vulture Bait in 2012. He said this was his first ultra and he wasn't terribly fast, but I was getting winded trying to keep up with him and converse and so had to let him get away in order not to burn myself out. Since he said he'd put in training runs up to 40k in preparation and I'd accomplished a meagre 28k before buggering off into the woods for the two weekends prior to race day, I figured that would be the last I saw of him.
Having run out of EFS Liquid Shot and been unable to procure any in time for the race (seriously - is there any left for sale in Canada? What the heck is going on?), I was rolling with whatever I could get my hands on for nutrition. I started at 35mins in with an Endurance Tap gel, followed by another around 1h15mins. I've used these maple syrup-based gels a few times on training runs and found them pretty easy to get along with, even if I do somewhat despise their packaging (I try hard not to litter, which means I have to try to hang onto the little cap from the package while I get the gel into me, then put it back on before putting the empty pack in my pocket...all while running with gloves on and my hand bottle in the way).
I supplemented the Endurance Tap with a bunch of different Gu gels. While I've trained with their gels quite extensively in the past, they make very few flavours (and almost none that I like) without caffeine, and I didn't want to take in too much of the high-octane fuel lest it necessitate my contributing to the fertilization of the woods. Unfortunately, by an hour in I was alrea feeling the call of nature. I hoped there would be a portajohn at one of the aid stations, or that I'd be able to hang on until I finished the first lap and could use the conveniences by the finishing area.
I drank water, plus the one small cup of Tailwind that I poured into my bottle thinking it was water (whoops). I ran a lot. I had to walk through some steep or washed out bits (some of the downhills would be suicide to run, at least for my clumsy self), but never for more than a minute at a time - I'd generally take the opportunity to get some water and/or gel into me, as trying to do so while running through labyrinthine root systems or twisting singletrack trail was probably not good for my health, either. Meeting the ground face-first would not be the best way to beat the 7-hour time cut off, and I already harbored some doubts about my ability to do so even without any additional trauma. I tried to watch my step, having my first caffeinated gel - a salted caramel Gu - around 2h15m in. I also tried to keep taking in my surroundings, because the trails around the reservoir at Fanshawe Conservation Area are beautiful; especially so when the trees come alive with fall colour as they had this weekend. Some leaves had fallen, but most were still on the trees making a gorgeous spectacle rather than obscuring ankle-turning obstacles on the ground.
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| I love running here. |
As I ran through the woods nearing the 20k mark, I saw a sign on a tree informing me of a "Redneck aid station" ahead. Further signage indicated they would not have water, sport drink, gels, bananas, or any of the typical aid station offerings (including a distinct lack of the portajohn for which I was increasingly desperate) - all they had was beer, if you asked nicely. Another sign admonished me to "run faster - we gots banjos!", and let me know "if racing wa easy we'd call it your mom" and that "you're the slowest one so far". Passing a ghetto blaster playing - as promised - banjo music, I came upon a cheerful, friendly crew of folks in camouflage clothing & Billy Bob teeth tending a table laden with tiny cups filled from a mini keg of Heineken. While I didn't indulge, I appreciated their light heartedness as I was starting to feel the worse for wear - my right hamstring was very sore, and it felt like the bandage on the big blister on my right heel was starting to peel off a bit, which wasn't comfortable at all.
I made it to the final legit aid station just before the 22k mark and got my bottle filled while I enjoyed a chunk of banana. The lovely ladies there tried to cheer me and a couple of other people who were also grabbing beverages that we only had a bit more than 3km left to go, then they looked at my bib and saw I was running the 50k, so I'd be back for another loop. I tried to smile about it despite knowing I was already slowing down and starting to fatigue - it was just another lovely romp through the woods, no? I mean I'd made it through the downhill on which I'd broken my right big toe in 2010 doing my first ever long distance trail race (I'd run some 5k events on trail, but 25k was my longest run ever back then), and even got through the stream crossing with dry feet thanks to low water levels and some well-placed stepping stones. I knew there were semi-technical sections that I'd run in the first loop that I'd have to walk in the second half, but I was managing to maintain..
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| Course map from the race website |
..until all of about 200 metres past the final aid station, where I managed to catch the 2nd and 3rd toes of my right foot on a root. I stayed on my feet, but pain shot through my 2nd toe and I figured that good ol' Vulture Bait had broken another one. Still, I was able to run most of the last 3k, though I did walk up the hill to the finishing area. I made it through the first loop seeing the clock turn 2:48:xx, but there was no timing mat for the 50k folks so you'll just have to take my word for that. I was pretty pleased, as I was within shouting distance of my personal best time on the course - I was convinced I'd gone 2:42:xx here in 2012. It turns out my Vulture Bait 25k PR (and overall 25k trail PR for that matter) is actually 2:46:11, so I was only 2mins off my best time. This also meant that I had more than 4 hours before the cut off, and was fairly certain that I could manage to limp my way through in that time no matter how mutinous my legs got. I even entertained the foolish notion I might be able to bring this in under 6 hours..
I was directed to the reservoir side of the building that served as race headquarters and a friendly gentleman offered to refill my bottle, which I gratefully accepted. He did advise that I'd have to veer off course to use the portajohns by the parking area, though, as there was no closer washroom available. I thanked him, continued scanning for Tanker (he was around there somewhere, I was sure), and trotted off to the bank of blue plastic boxes that were my own personal version of Valhalla at that point. Fortunately the one at the very far end - the same one I'd used before the race - was unoccupied, so I took care of the matter that had become rather pressing over the last hour and three quarters.
Emerging from the portajohn, I stirred myself back into a run and headed back toward the course, seeing 2:52:xx on the clock as I headed out for my final loop. Apparently Tanker had wandered out of the building just beforehand, and looked to the South just in time to see me departing.
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| So close.. |
I crossed the dam over the reservoir around the 3 hour 15 minute mark, knocking back another Endurance Tap after getting my bottle filled at the 4.8km aid station. I was definitely slowing down and it was becoming harder to convince myself to run up even the gentle hills, but I cut myself some slack and let myself walk. The 2h48m it took me to get through the first loop was as long duration-wise as I had run in training since May, so it was understandable that I'd be feeling some fatigue. I also needed to make sure I stayed on top of nutrition and hydration, as I'd experienced the lows and grumpiness that come from the forgetfulness about eating and drinking that sets in around 3.5-4hrs into a long race for me and wanted to try to enjoy the second loop if I possibly could.
I spent most of the second half of the race all alone in the woods. There was one fellow who seemed to be having some sinus issues - he kept blowing snot rockets every couple of minutes, leading my brain to toss up the nugget "Ah, the mating call of the Northern Snot-Nosed Trail Runner" in its best David Attenborough voice - but he got away from me quite early on and for a good hour and three quarters it was just me and the forest. I don't really mind this; I don't train with music or a partner, so I'm pretty comfortable inside my own head and just absorbing the lovely scenery.
The weather was variable all day. Mostly overcast and windy, but punctuated with occasional snow showers and even a few peeks of sunshine. I distinctly remember the sun emerging from the cloud cover just as I approached a pair of brilliantly coloured maple trees on the course; they had dropped about a third of their leaves, so the whole path ahead of me seemed to glow with a million shades of yellow, orange and red. I felt a little less sorry for myself as nature flaunted her autumnal finery before me. I was also really pleased with my clothing selections; the high for the day only reached 3c/37f, and the only change I made from the way I started my day was to zip down the collars of both my vest and my shirt as I warmed up. I felt a bit chilly at times when the wind would hit or snow would fall, but overall I think I nailed it.
By 4.5hrs in, though, I had two problems: my knee continued to worsen, and I think the caffeine was proving a little too much for my poor GI tract to handle. I needed another portajohn, and knew there was no way I was making it to the finish before what was knocking very hard at the back door was coming out. So, I went off-roading. My sincerest apologies to the very few people behind me; I had no choice in the matter. I know I'm not the only one who contributed something to the fertility of the conservation area that day (there were some less-than-savoury aromas about), but I really had hoped it wouldn't come to that...especially since I was in pine forest and had no toilet paper with me.
Body lube, don't fail me now.
Now feeling pleasantly empty, I managed to get my last Endurance Tap gel into me around 4h45m just before the 16.7k aid station. I thought I remembered it being at 16km, but the map says different and I'll believe it. In any case, I knew I only had to drag my hurtin' self through another 9km to get my finisher's medal, and I was bound & determined to do so. With my bottle filled once more, I set about it.
I actually caught up with some other folks around this time - two masters athletes (a man and a woman) who were seemingly running together, plus the fellow who'd chatted with me earlier about my blog. We talked a bit more and played some airborne caterpillar with each other, but my toe was hurting and my knee was getting worse by the minute. Running uphill and walking downhill were seriously painful by this time; anything that put a load on my left knee while it was bent. I also ended up walking a rooty, rocky, side-slope-riddled section in the forest with my newfound compatriots, telling them I wasn't nearly bright enough to run them at this point - that really, I was only just barely smart enough to realise I wasn't bright enough to run them without landing on my head.
With 7k left to go the masters athletes left me behind as I struggled to stir myself into a run at all - my knee was just that bad. I contemplated quitting, but there wasn't really anywhere to do so. I'd have to get at least to the Redneck Aid Station at the 20k mark, or possibly the final race-sanctioned aid station at 21.9km...and what would be the point of dropping out there? At 5h15m I pulled the last arrow out of my quiver: a caramel macchiato Gu with double caffeine that I hoped would perk me up enough to get through.
So, I continued as best I could. I limped down the descents too steep or technical to run, ran the flatter bits, and walked up anything even resembling a hill. I had almost drained my bottle by the time I reached the Redneck Aid Station at the 20k mark and had to ration the last couple of sips of water. Even walking was horribly painful by this time, so I engaged the philosophy that has got me through so many ultra events - "If it hurts to walk, you might as well run". Sounds good in theory, anyway. In practice, I did actually manage to run the whole way through the Redneck Aid Station, politely declining the offer of a free hug (tempting though it was to stop) just so I could try to keep my momentum. It didn't last long, though; I was just in too much agony and had to walk quite a bit, even on the flat bits.
I finally emerged from the woods at the final aid station and asked for my bottle to be filled. The lady doing so asked if I wanted it full or just partly filled, as it was just more weight to carry. I said 2/3 would probably be ok, but that this might take me quite awhile, since my knee was buggered and I'd probably broken my toe. I was wished good luck (which I needed), then hobbled off to try to get through the final leg. I can't say enough about the wonderful volunteers at this race - despite the cold, windy day and snow showers, they always had a warm smile and good cheer for the runners coming through. I did my level best to thank them all for coming out, as I know it's not the easiest job in the world and some athletes can be downright arrogant in their dealings with these wonderful folks who give up their day just to help us out.
Having stopped at the aid station, my knee seemed to try to seize up on me - breaking into a run again was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life, and I might as well have had a knife embedded in the outside of my poor leg. I tried to stay vigilant and pick up my feet to ensure I wouldn't catch my damaged toe on anything, but it wouldn't be me if I managed to make it through unscathed.
Same. Damn. Root.
Same. Damn. Toe.
I nearly yard sale'd myself, but somehow managed to stay upright while letting loose a torrent of profanity that would make a sailor blush. I had no idea what horror awaited me inside my right shoe - all I could tell was that it felt wet (bloody?) and my sock seemed to be sawing into the top of my 2nd toe just behind the nail. The same nail that had fallen off a few weeks earlier, with just a malformed little half-thickness stub having grown in to make it look somewhat normal. It was the only one that hadn't needed cutting the day before the race..
I was now in just about the worst condition I've been in during a race. My left knee was entirely made out of pain, and my right foot was somehow even worse. Forward progress was the only thing I could focus on, and it happened at a snail's pace. A couple of people passed me as I limped along, prompting my inner Chopper Reid. It wasn't going to get any easier, gawddammit, so I might as well get it over with as quickly as possible.
I ran.
I ran most of the last 2 kilometers.
I ran whimpering like a wounded animal, which was a fairly reasonable assessment of my situation.
I even managed to persuade myself to run up the hill to the finish, because fuck it. I saw Tanker at the top, cheering and losing his mind in the most wonderfully supportive way, while yelling at him that my left knee was completely screwed.
I ran all the way through the finish line, not stopping until I came to a volunteer who asked to take my timing chip.
I got my medal, I got a bottle of water, and I got photobombed by a volunteer.
So I was 35 full minutes slower in the 2nd half than the first, and the time is a personal worst for the 50k distance for me by 3.5 minutes - my first one was a 6:07:51 at Run for the Toad in 2013, which is a much tougher course. As I said before, with the day's conditions and the lack of significant elevation change, this year's Vulture Bait would have been a shoe-in to beat even my surprising 5:43:24 from Sulphur Springs in May if I'd been properly trained.
On the bright side, though, I did actually manage to finish the damn thing. Even did so under the 7 hour cut-off time, though there are a couple of people who finished after 7 hours that still have official results, so I guess they're not too strict about that. The original injury did not flare up again, I didn't have any trouble from the giant heel blisters I worked up while solo backpacking 2 weeks before the race, and I was able to keep running right up until the end. I also think I demonstrated that I have a wee bit of grit and determination in me, anyway.
So then I go inside to change out of my wet clothes and see what horrible thing I've done to my toe. A large part of me didn't want to look, but someone has to deal with this crap and my sweet husband simply cannot handle anything gross or painful to do with toes; it shuts him right down. So, off with the gaiters, shoes and socks and...ergh...apparently I smashed the toe hard enough to detach the roots of the nail, the rear points of which have rubbed up a nasty blister (which is what was making it feel wet) and are scraping up the raw skin underneath (which is why I thought my sock seam was munching on me).
So I got to go home and use a pair of pliers to remove the poor little malformed nail, actually having to cut it out of the callous I always get on the end of that toe. I slapped some antibiotic ointment on the nail bed, bound it up and wore flip flops for the rest of the day. That I managed all this without hurling or passing out after running a damn 50k earlier in the day still amazes me.
I did manage to get a sock and shoes on Sunday and Monday to do some walking & hiking (and voting). The toe seems like it'll be ok eventually - I'm keeping it wrapped and it shows significant healing just in the few days since the race.
The left knee seems to be a bigger problem, though. I took 4 days off running while I used The Stick and my foam roller, hoping that it's just a result of a tight muscle (hamstring? glute? calf?) pulling things out of alignment. My right knee has also been a bit sore in the same fashion as I recover, though not nearly as badly as the left. I finally tried a short, easy run last night - it started off perfectly well, but by 20mins in (after running up a hill and maybe cornering with a bit less care than I should have used), I was dealing with a lot of soreness again. What's worse is that I had even more pain during a short walk that Tanker and I took together later in the evening, after I'd been to the pool for a post-run swim and swirlpool stretching session - I had to limp the last few metres back to the house.
It felt better this morning after sleeping on it and has been more or less ok today, but I don't know what any of this means for the Horror Trail 6-hour on the 31st. It was always fairly ridiculous to think about running 2 ultras a fortnight apart; this may be the nail in that coffin.
Nothing for it but to keep on foam rolling and hoping for the best.
I think that my tired legs or possibly trying to favour my sore right toe led to a change in my stride, as my left knee started to get a bit sore on the outside. I kept on running as much as I could, but the pain started to get worse as I passed the second aid station and got my bottle filled again. I asked the ladies there "This is kilometer eleven point..?" and they told me it was just 11km, to which I replied "Oh, that's...disheartening better than ten." They gave me a smile and told me that was the spirit as I rallied my legs to continue running down the paved road past the trailers. I was 4 hours in at this point, so decided another caffeinated gel might be the ticket - I pulled out a maple bacon Gu and went to town. Hadn't tried that flavour before, but it was pretty tasty!
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| Snow flurry at the finish area sometime during my 2nd loop |
The weather was variable all day. Mostly overcast and windy, but punctuated with occasional snow showers and even a few peeks of sunshine. I distinctly remember the sun emerging from the cloud cover just as I approached a pair of brilliantly coloured maple trees on the course; they had dropped about a third of their leaves, so the whole path ahead of me seemed to glow with a million shades of yellow, orange and red. I felt a little less sorry for myself as nature flaunted her autumnal finery before me. I was also really pleased with my clothing selections; the high for the day only reached 3c/37f, and the only change I made from the way I started my day was to zip down the collars of both my vest and my shirt as I warmed up. I felt a bit chilly at times when the wind would hit or snow would fall, but overall I think I nailed it.
By 4.5hrs in, though, I had two problems: my knee continued to worsen, and I think the caffeine was proving a little too much for my poor GI tract to handle. I needed another portajohn, and knew there was no way I was making it to the finish before what was knocking very hard at the back door was coming out. So, I went off-roading. My sincerest apologies to the very few people behind me; I had no choice in the matter. I know I'm not the only one who contributed something to the fertility of the conservation area that day (there were some less-than-savoury aromas about), but I really had hoped it wouldn't come to that...especially since I was in pine forest and had no toilet paper with me.
Body lube, don't fail me now.
Now feeling pleasantly empty, I managed to get my last Endurance Tap gel into me around 4h45m just before the 16.7k aid station. I thought I remembered it being at 16km, but the map says different and I'll believe it. In any case, I knew I only had to drag my hurtin' self through another 9km to get my finisher's medal, and I was bound & determined to do so. With my bottle filled once more, I set about it.
I actually caught up with some other folks around this time - two masters athletes (a man and a woman) who were seemingly running together, plus the fellow who'd chatted with me earlier about my blog. We talked a bit more and played some airborne caterpillar with each other, but my toe was hurting and my knee was getting worse by the minute. Running uphill and walking downhill were seriously painful by this time; anything that put a load on my left knee while it was bent. I also ended up walking a rooty, rocky, side-slope-riddled section in the forest with my newfound compatriots, telling them I wasn't nearly bright enough to run them at this point - that really, I was only just barely smart enough to realise I wasn't bright enough to run them without landing on my head.
With 7k left to go the masters athletes left me behind as I struggled to stir myself into a run at all - my knee was just that bad. I contemplated quitting, but there wasn't really anywhere to do so. I'd have to get at least to the Redneck Aid Station at the 20k mark, or possibly the final race-sanctioned aid station at 21.9km...and what would be the point of dropping out there? At 5h15m I pulled the last arrow out of my quiver: a caramel macchiato Gu with double caffeine that I hoped would perk me up enough to get through.
I finally emerged from the woods at the final aid station and asked for my bottle to be filled. The lady doing so asked if I wanted it full or just partly filled, as it was just more weight to carry. I said 2/3 would probably be ok, but that this might take me quite awhile, since my knee was buggered and I'd probably broken my toe. I was wished good luck (which I needed), then hobbled off to try to get through the final leg. I can't say enough about the wonderful volunteers at this race - despite the cold, windy day and snow showers, they always had a warm smile and good cheer for the runners coming through. I did my level best to thank them all for coming out, as I know it's not the easiest job in the world and some athletes can be downright arrogant in their dealings with these wonderful folks who give up their day just to help us out.
Having stopped at the aid station, my knee seemed to try to seize up on me - breaking into a run again was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life, and I might as well have had a knife embedded in the outside of my poor leg. I tried to stay vigilant and pick up my feet to ensure I wouldn't catch my damaged toe on anything, but it wouldn't be me if I managed to make it through unscathed.
Same. Damn. Root.
Same. Damn. Toe.
 |
| Artist's interpretation. Totally inaccurate - I'm much chubbier. |
I nearly yard sale'd myself, but somehow managed to stay upright while letting loose a torrent of profanity that would make a sailor blush. I had no idea what horror awaited me inside my right shoe - all I could tell was that it felt wet (bloody?) and my sock seemed to be sawing into the top of my 2nd toe just behind the nail. The same nail that had fallen off a few weeks earlier, with just a malformed little half-thickness stub having grown in to make it look somewhat normal. It was the only one that hadn't needed cutting the day before the race..
I was now in just about the worst condition I've been in during a race. My left knee was entirely made out of pain, and my right foot was somehow even worse. Forward progress was the only thing I could focus on, and it happened at a snail's pace. A couple of people passed me as I limped along, prompting my inner Chopper Reid. It wasn't going to get any easier, gawddammit, so I might as well get it over with as quickly as possible.
I ran.
I ran most of the last 2 kilometers.
I ran whimpering like a wounded animal, which was a fairly reasonable assessment of my situation.
 |
| Do not approach. May attack without warning. |
I even managed to persuade myself to run up the hill to the finish, because fuck it. I saw Tanker at the top, cheering and losing his mind in the most wonderfully supportive way, while yelling at him that my left knee was completely screwed.
 |
| This. This is what pain looks like. |
I ran all the way through the finish line, not stopping until I came to a volunteer who asked to take my timing chip.
 |
| Can you believe I carted that fat arse through 50km of trail? |
I got my medal, I got a bottle of water, and I got photobombed by a volunteer.
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| Glad one of us has some energy! |
Official 50k Time: 6:11:21 @ 7:26/km
38/52 O/A - 10/15 W1-49
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| Outside race headquarters |
So I was 35 full minutes slower in the 2nd half than the first, and the time is a personal worst for the 50k distance for me by 3.5 minutes - my first one was a 6:07:51 at Run for the Toad in 2013, which is a much tougher course. As I said before, with the day's conditions and the lack of significant elevation change, this year's Vulture Bait would have been a shoe-in to beat even my surprising 5:43:24 from Sulphur Springs in May if I'd been properly trained.
On the bright side, though, I did actually manage to finish the damn thing. Even did so under the 7 hour cut-off time, though there are a couple of people who finished after 7 hours that still have official results, so I guess they're not too strict about that. The original injury did not flare up again, I didn't have any trouble from the giant heel blisters I worked up while solo backpacking 2 weeks before the race, and I was able to keep running right up until the end. I also think I demonstrated that I have a wee bit of grit and determination in me, anyway.
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| Nah, just sheer bloody-mindedness. |
So then I go inside to change out of my wet clothes and see what horrible thing I've done to my toe. A large part of me didn't want to look, but someone has to deal with this crap and my sweet husband simply cannot handle anything gross or painful to do with toes; it shuts him right down. So, off with the gaiters, shoes and socks and...ergh...apparently I smashed the toe hard enough to detach the roots of the nail, the rear points of which have rubbed up a nasty blister (which is what was making it feel wet) and are scraping up the raw skin underneath (which is why I thought my sock seam was munching on me).
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| KILL IT WITH FIRE |
So I got to go home and use a pair of pliers to remove the poor little malformed nail, actually having to cut it out of the callous I always get on the end of that toe. I slapped some antibiotic ointment on the nail bed, bound it up and wore flip flops for the rest of the day. That I managed all this without hurling or passing out after running a damn 50k earlier in the day still amazes me.
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| If you really want to see, click here. I don't really recommend it. |
I did manage to get a sock and shoes on Sunday and Monday to do some walking & hiking (and voting). The toe seems like it'll be ok eventually - I'm keeping it wrapped and it shows significant healing just in the few days since the race.
The left knee seems to be a bigger problem, though. I took 4 days off running while I used The Stick and my foam roller, hoping that it's just a result of a tight muscle (hamstring? glute? calf?) pulling things out of alignment. My right knee has also been a bit sore in the same fashion as I recover, though not nearly as badly as the left. I finally tried a short, easy run last night - it started off perfectly well, but by 20mins in (after running up a hill and maybe cornering with a bit less care than I should have used), I was dealing with a lot of soreness again. What's worse is that I had even more pain during a short walk that Tanker and I took together later in the evening, after I'd been to the pool for a post-run swim and swirlpool stretching session - I had to limp the last few metres back to the house.
It felt better this morning after sleeping on it and has been more or less ok today, but I don't know what any of this means for the Horror Trail 6-hour on the 31st. It was always fairly ridiculous to think about running 2 ultras a fortnight apart; this may be the nail in that coffin.
Nothing for it but to keep on foam rolling and hoping for the best.
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