The cold definitely had one thing running well though: I was one snot-nosed punk! Can we talk for just a moment about how finicky it is to wipe your schnozz or blow a snot rocket without disturbing your skully makeup?
Definitely first world ultra dork problems there.
The major complaints, really, were my left hamstrings (with which I've had trouble since the spring, then did some additional damage to about a week before race day, 'cause I'm smart like that) and my right ankle - they were grouchy from the start. Apart from that, it was really just a total lack of oomph; I found myself walking sections that I have been able to run consistently in the past, and my energy was already beginning to fade by the 2-hour mark. I tried a chunk of banana and one of my homemade salted maple crisp rice squares for some extra calories on top of the gel, but to no effect.
By the halfway point, though, I was starting to wonder if I'd even make my default goal of "make it an ultra", which requires 17 laps of the 2.5km course to equal 42.5km (an ultramarathon being defined as anything longer than a marathon at 42.2km). I had managed 10 laps for 25km by 3h13m, but my split times had faded to around 20mins and I was starting to struggle. The weather had finally warmed up enough for me to take off my sweater - which required a couple of minutes to change from the short, full-finger stretchy gloves to a pair of elbow-length fingerless gloves as it wasn't quite warm enough for just a sleeveless shirt - but my legs were sore and my stride mechanics were starting to fall into that horrible, flat-footed ultra shuffle that is the mark of suffering.
Of course after I took my sweater off, the wind picked up as it blew across the cornfields to the northeast - it was right in our faces as we came out of the upper woods in the shade of the trees, and it was certainly not warm after the morning's frost.
Some new issues started to crop up as I passed the 4-hour mark - not sure if it's due to my crap stride mechanics or some weirdness that's been going on with my left glutes, but the inside of the top of my calf, passing through my knee and into my lower inner thigh got quite sore when climbing hills. Since there are one or two of those on the course, it was a bit of a bother. I was also just feeling generally beat up in a way I haven't during a 6-hour race in some years; I heard some other people were feeling a bit more battered than usual as well, and I wonder if the sub-freezing temperatures might have had a hand in that. The midsole of my shoes - which provides their cushioning - may have firmed up more than usual in the chill, which was starting to get worse again.
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| Some cloud cover was moving in, too, in advance of a massive rainstorm predicted for the evening. |
Passing the aid station around 4h20m in and munching back another crisp rice square, I mentioned it was cooling off and got wholehearted agreement from
Tanker, Barb and Moe - knowing it wasn't just my inability to move with any sort of energy sealed the deal, and I let
Tanker know I'd need my sweater again when I came back through the aid station. I stopped to put it on - which meant taking another minute to doff the elbow-length gloves again - around 4h40m (after my 14th lap, for 35km total), then needed the portajohn again...and not just for a wee. Still no GI distress, but another round of "weight loss". SO WEIRD; maybe too much fibre in the days leading up to the race? I don't know, but at least I was staying hydrated, too, partly due to
Tank's amazing efforts - I'd yell his name and show my bottle when I came out of the woods, and he'd take it from me and have it filled by the time I ran up around the building, through the upper woods, and back down to the aid station. Super efficient and time-saving, that - I appreciate him so much, as well as the efforts of the other volunteers.
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| Tanker, Barb and Moe at the aid station. |
All the wardrobe and portajohn fussing made for my slowest lap of the day (24m5s), though, and I really wished that I'd brought more than 1 caffeinated gel with me as I felt in desperate need of a boost. I was in rough shape: my hamstrings on both legs were creaking unpleasantly, my right ankle had settled down a bit but then came back to painful life when I stepped on a rock, and even my right shoulder was killing me for some reason (despite being entirely used to carrying a bottle around for hours on end). I was feeling so mithered I actually thought to myself at one point that I could just...stop. There wasn't really any reason to continue. But, I tend to finish what I start, and it was still a fairly nice day in the woods, so the rogue thought passed fairly quickly and I pressed on.
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| I was still managing to run some, but not much. |
At least I was more comfortable with my sweater back on, and coming through lap 15 for 37.5km in 5 hours and 2 minutes gave me a pretty comfortable cushion to get in the other 2 laps I wanted to make my default goal of 42.5km. With only an hour left I did knock back my sole sea salt chocolate caffeinated
Gu Roctane gel, hoping it would keep me sharp enough to stay upright and un-damaged. I'd made it through so far with only one minor toe catch on a root (without even a stumble!), and aspired to keep it that way.
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| Some people were less lucky - at least one brought down by the almost-invisible, foot-size hole in the wood here. |
A 21min lap to put me at 40k, and I picked up my bag of beads coming through the start/finish with a number that would correspond to my bib number - I'd drop it wherever I was when the horn sounded to end the race, and that would give me credit for however much of a partial final lap I managed to complete. I hit the aid station one last time for a banana chunk and swallowed my last
S!cap (of 6 total) around 5h25m, dropping the flip-top container I keep them in off in the UltraCooler™ so I wouldn't have to carry any excess weight.
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| Leaving me free to concentrate on not dying. |
With 35mins to go I ended up falling in step with a nice fellow named Savvas who had been killing it out there all day, but said he was done and on his last lap. We walked a lot and chatted, only running occasionally as we had no interest in thrashing ourselves. When he told me his average lap times, though, as we were coming down the hill and moving toward the exit of the lower woods, I said I knew he had time for one more full lap as long as he didn't let me slow him down. He decided it was on, and took off running - good for him!
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| That's him in blue, running up the driveway while ultra legend Ron Gehl heads across the grass toward the aid station. |
Coming through my 17th lap with 14mins left on the clock, I had an idea. At my very first Horror Trail 6-hour 10 years previous (called Horror Hill back then) I'd managed to run 44.1km - if I pushed in the last 14mins, I could probably make a mile to equal my 2010 total.
Of course, that meant I'd have to run.
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Not to mention climb the big stinkin' hill one more time.
THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS. |
I pushed myself harder than I had since the first hour, whipping myself to run up slopes and ignore the angry protest coming from just about everything south of my neck. I was passed by a lady around the 1,200m mark but had nothing with which to answer; I was already at my limit, and knew I needed to be careful about picking up my feet lest I go sprawling. The point was rather emphasized when another fellow passed me, then caught a root in his haste and went down - I made sure he was ok before pressing onward, making it to the 1,600m marker with a minute and a half to go.
Can't stop now - why not see if I can make it to the next marker?
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| Yep. |
With 15 seconds left I passed the 1,800m sign, then dropped my bag of red beads with #23 right on top of two pink-painted rocks in the middle of the trail. I honestly couldn't remember the last time 6 hours felt so long and difficult, or beat me up so badly.
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| My makeup survived the race much better than the rest of me. |
Official distance: 44.26km @ 8:08/km
1/2 W40-49 - 2/7 Women - 13/19 O/A
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| Splits with notes - amusingly enough, my tourist lap was my fastest of the day! |
So there you have it: in 10 years, I've managed to improve my distance by a whole 160 metres.
I knew there weren't very many women in the 6-hour, and based on what I'd seen I actually stood a decent chance of a podium finish. As it turned out, it was a good thing I'd kept going for that final partial lap - another lady had stopped at 42.5km as she'd never run a marathon before and was quite happy to have surpassed one. I could, however, have not dawdled quite so much along the way - when all was said and done, I missed 1st place woman overall by a grand total of 50 metres.
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| The lady who passed me on my final partial lap was the overall women's winner. |
Please don't think I'm not grateful for a 2nd place woman overall finish, though, particularly on a day on which my body had led me to abandon all expectations. I was happy simply to finish upright and not really any worse for wear than I'd been when I started - a place on the podium was an unexpected and flattering cherry on top!
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| Not bad for a dead chick! |
Oh, and Savvas? He beat out another guy by less than a minute for 3rd place overall - so glad I kicked his butt a little to get him running again!
The really weird part is that I was way less sore than I'd have expected in the days afterward. I mean, I had a sore spot on the inside of my left leg at about mid-thigh, my hamstrings were super tight and stiff, and both ankles were a little tender, but there was no trouble walking up and down stairs or post-race penguin waddling. The fatigue was crushing for a couple of days - who knew pushing an already-exhausted body through 6 hours of chilly activity could wear you out? - but even that has faded fairly quickly, and by Wednesday I was running again. I suspect hormones and bad timing had something to do with all this, and either the lack of soreness was due to being unable to push hard during the race itself, or maybe some increased resilience from the pounding my legs took at
Falling Water the month before.
Either way, it's now officially my off-season! For a little bit, anyway - not only is the
100 runs in 100 days starting a month early this year, I've also signed up for
something really stupid in early December. So, shot myself in the foot for a nice recovery month in November, but I'm still taking it easy for a bit.
Now to take full advantage of that extra hour of sleep on Saturday night..