Odyssey Trail Running Rampage 40 Miler

Odyssey Trail Running Rampage

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Douthat, Virginia

This race has been on my race calendar all year, at least the marathon distance. Todd believed I could do well at the marathon, he thought I could perhaps place Top 3 for females. I thought the 40 Miler sounded more up my alley as I feel that distance is really becoming what I want to pursue. After Promise Land in April I decided to register for the 40 over the marathon. All summer we’ve run long runs in the heat, slowly pushed our mileage up, and focused on hills and trails. I am positive that our training could be improved upon in the future, but it wasn’t a bad start for my first 40 miler.

The week leading up to this race I ran the Virginia 10 Miler course on Monday and then a Wild Wednesday trail run of about 6 miles on Candler’s Mountain. Even though I was supposed to be ‘tapering’ I couldn’t restrain myself from giving about 85% Wednesday evening when the group went up Lone Jack Mountain, at the top my calves were tight, by the end of the run the right calf was even stiffer.  I rolled them out using the stick over the next few days, especially down between the calf and ankle and they just seemed to get increasingly tighter and even more painful. So much for a successful taper, in the future I should attempt Jack Mountain at no more than 50% three days before an important Ultra.

Friday morning Todd ran out for vital race day groceries and Panera pastries. Throughout the day we ate bagels and muffins and filled gear bags. We counted out our GU and Electrolyte tablets, we readied our Bag Balm and made sure our favorite shorts were clean. We focused on the little tasks at hand instead of what we were actually gearing up to do.

Saturday morning we awoke at 3:30 a.m. so as to make it to Douthat in time for the race briefing, I ate one last bagel at just before 4 am, it wasn’t enough as I found out at the starting line three hours later when my stomach was already asking for more food and I hadn’t even started running. In the future I need to eat more food before heading out on a long run. I should have known better after my 30 mile birthday run, starting out with 2 sandwiches in my belly a half hour to an hour before the run is much better for the run as a whole. Starting at a deficit will only lead to further trouble.

Even though we were up early and on the road we still made it with little time before the race start. I had to express milk and get dressed after we got there as I knew it would be a good 8-9 hours before I would be able to pump again. I had just gotten to the drop bag area where we had decided to set up our own aid station and the race start countdown was less than five minutes. I took my first grab bag out (5 GU and 3 Electrolyte tablets), I ate my first GU and took the salt tabs. I also grabbed half a PB&J sandwich hoping that it would be enough to calm my hungry stomach. It wasn’t enough, but it was something. Looking back this was such a poor error in judgment, fueling is crucial in a distance event and I started far too close to empty for comfort. 

7 a.m. and we were off and running. I fell right in with Courtney, my favorite rival from the Mountain Junkies series this past spring, we chatted about dogs and children and I was able, for the moment, to ignore the fact that we were climbing. The next several miles are mostly uphill, single track and lots of switchbacks.  Almost immediately my lower right calf, still tight and achy, let me know just how unhappy it was to be climbing before sufficiently being warmed up. I chased both Courtney and Todd up the climb but the calf began to worry me. I started taking walk breaks sooner than I had planned. I knew that my calf could loosen up with the run but I was ready for some relief. Todd pulled ahead and then Courtney pulled ahead. At the first aid station the terrain leveled out some and I started to feel some of that much needed relief in my leg. When the trail started to descend I was finally able to pick it up a little, I passed Courtney and caught up with Todd. I stayed with him for the remainder of the first loop, with Courtney right behind us. By the end of the first loop I felt really very good, I had drank about 30 oz. of water (a 20oz. disposable up the first climb and about 10 oz. from my Ultimate Direction handheld) and taken four more GU. I was foolishly beginning to think that the loop seemed easier than the hype I had heard from Todd.

Starting out on our second loop I felt almost better than I did on the first loop. During our time in the transition area there had been cheering from the sideline that was encouraging. I grabbed my second fuel bag, consumed my salt tabs and stuffed my GU in my bra; I grabbed my extra water bottle for the climb and half a PB&J. As we started back up the climb for our second loop we passed Courtney headed into the aid station we were just leaving and I felt the need to push more and take the climb on strong. Todd encouraged me to pass him and I did but I didn’t feel good about doing so, I was hoping to keep him with me for at least the second climb. I ran and walked to the aid station at the top of the climb and grabbed some pretzels but otherwise didn’t stop. I was running down the downhill that follows passing bikers who were calling words of encouragement when I tripped on a rock and went down hard. I slid like a baseball player stealing home. Three thoughts immediately came to mind: 1.) I wish Todd were here. 2.) Don’t cry. 3.) Run. I really wanted to stop, sit on a rock, have a good cry and wait for Todd. However, I knew if I didn’t start running right away that I would quite possibly stiffen up and be done for the day.  I was hurting but I started running again as soon as I stood up. My right knee, thigh and elbow were bleeding and stinging and moving took enough out of me that I slowed considerably compared to the pace I’d been keeping before the fall.  Unfortunately, the most debilitating aspect of my fall was that my confidence was shattered. My mental race was broken, at least for the time being, I kept looking behind me for Todd. I took walk breaks more frequently. My stomach started to growl and I began to question everything about my running. I started debating a DNF, wondering how I was going to finish the race. I was falling apart fast, thinking seriously about withdrawing my MMTR entry, and my running in general.  It was a downward spiral. I was walking more and more frequently and finding no desire to run. I would turn around and look behind me every minute it felt like, hoping to find Todd closing in on me. At one point I thought I saw Frank Gonzalez behind me, it may have actually helped move me for a half mile until the man, not Frank the Tank, passed me and I fell from 6^{th place} to 7^th overall.  I walked from the aid station at mile 24 (aid station 3 in loop) across flat ground. Flat “why are you not running” ground. It was crushing, my spirit was almost gone. My stomach was growling, it seemed unsatisfied with the primarily GU diet of the day, and I was starting to feel fatigued.  Finally, going up the steady hill after aid station 3 I caught sight of Todd on one of my numerous backward glances. He was gaining on me and I pulled over and waited for him to climb the hill. He yelled halfway up for me to continue. “I’m done”, I responded, acknowledging my hunger for food and my lack of will to continue. Feeling pumped he spread his wealth of adrenaline as best he could, it’s only your wall, he said. Todd’s presence definitely pulled me from the top of that hill to the end of the second loop. The group cheered as we came in again together. I only spoke enough to tell Ronny, the race director, that I really did not want to start the third loop.

With only a minute or so at the aid station I grabbed my final gear bag, as much food as I could carry and I headed out for the third loop. Todd and I started the climb together as I attempted to satisfy my seemingly insatiable appetite. I ate another Strawberry Banana GU, half a PB&J, a handful of Pringles and drank 20oz of water. I felt my hunger subsiding as we walked the majority of the long climb but muscle aches and foot pains had taken their place. I hiked along behind Todd, he offered to let me pass but I was relying on his companionship to pull me up the hill. I don’t know that we spoke to one another over the course of the next three miles. Near the top I started to get antsy that we were walking too much. Not that I felt strong enough to run, but I felt that I needed to increase the distance between me and the rest of the pack (I am, after all, a most competitive runner). I was convinced that every other runner out there was stronger than me and was certainly running up that third climb and about to pass me at any moment. When we finally reached the aid station at the top of the mountain Todd sat down to take a salt pill and I looked at him aghast, are you really going to sit? Fearing the competition enclosing upon me I left him sitting on the mountain beside the Gatorade coolers and headed on alone. I didn’t see anyone as I headed on back from the aid station so I convinced myself that a forward moving motion would suffice.  I ran but ran slowly, fearing running on empty.

Thankfully this next section is largely downhill but I wasn’t pushing hard, just pushing onward when less than two miles after the aid station Todd literally flew upon me and passed me as though I were standing still. His break at the aid station that I mocked had clearly benefited him with a second, or was it a third, wind? I was exhausted just witnessing his effort but I do believe I did pick up the pace even if only a little. I started to break the race down, only eight miles left, imagine an eight mile run just beginning on tired legs. Only two miles left until the next aid station. Only a little further until the long gradual climb and so forth. When I finally made it to the aid station at the horse camp I was walking flat, paved surfaces yet constantly looking behind me for approaching runners.  The long climb after this aid station was slow, I walked it almost in its entirety but it was also the point at which I had seen Todd on the second loop and I knew that it wasn’t all that far to the finish so just reaching the climb was at least a half-pleasantry. Climb this hill and you know you can finish this race I told myself.

These next few miles were tough but they were also rewarding. I knew that the lure of the finish line was enough to pull me onward. There is a section of trail that runs along a lake at the very end of the loop, this is where I had my ‘I am really doing this’ moment. I knew that the finish was close at hand and that soon the 40 Miler would be nothing more than memories and recollections, race results and finishing times. And then, with a little more than half a mile left to go, Todd appeared running towards me. He stopped and let out a most terrifying shout, bellowing “YES” presumably at my presence.  He shouted some more words of encouragement but all I can remember now is that first deep throated scream. He seemed as stoked to see me that close to the finish as I felt to be there. That and he was clearly coming back for me so he was probably thankful that he didn’t have to go all that far to find me.

And then I finished. Not quite sure yet how I feel about my race even now, a whole week afterwards. I don’t feel that it went well. My tripping on a rock, falling and the resulting mental collapse in the second loop was a real unconstructive way to run an ultra and yet I’ve not run enough to know how else to feel. I mean should I expect pessimism to rear its ugly head with distance running? Does conquering long distance truly get better with experience? Was what I feel to be a ‘bad’ race day really a pretty good one?

I finished the race in 7:42, which was good for 8^th overall and 1^st female.  I feel like I still have a lot to learn about training, fueling, and mental fortitude and I am perhaps more nervous about Masochist. I was hoping for a little more confidence coming out of this race but now I have even more reservations.

-Alexis