Race Report: Western States Endurance Run 100

Western States Endurance Run

Squaw Valley to Auburn, CA

Saturday, June 29- Sunday, June 30, 2013

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” -Theodore Roosevelt

I post the above quote as a means to get started because the words above have been on my mind as the hours following the race turn into days and my mind wraps itself around the run. Had I the time and this report been written sooner you might have found yourself reading a report with a completely different tone, might I have waited even longer, perhaps yet an even more different tone. As it is, it's Thursday the Fourth of July and this report reflects where I'm currently at in the processing and evaluating of my efforts. The Western States Endurance Run held in late June in California was far more beautiful and far more challenging than I ever dreamed. As above noted there was a bit of error and shortcoming, in addition to inexperience on my part that has left me second guessing and replaying pivotal decisions and points of the race in my mind. The clearest thing I can tell you is that I loved this run and would return in a heartbeat given the opportunity once more.

Before I dive in to the nitty gritty details of my day long run that was really a weekend long, I want to comment on a point I read about in a blog or two before heading west. At least one person chided the Western States volunteers and organizers as being rude and even ignoring the non elite atheletes who came to run. I was worried about this and disappointed without proof that this may occur. Having now experienced the run myself I can say that this is simply not true. The volunteers, organizers, aid station captains, other runners, crews, and spectators were by far the most supportive of any race I've ever experienced. For example, Tim Tweitmeyer ran by us headed in the opposite direction at one point about mile 97 and said, very encouragingly "It's in the bag! Three miles to go in almost two hours." And Tim was also there at the awards ceremony to shake every finisher's hand as they received their buckle on Sunday afternoon. But that is just a glimpse into the kind of support and aid from the people associated with the run.

There is a lot to say about the few days before the race, but I'm going to try and keep this post to just the run itself. I will say that I believe I held it together in the final days better than ever before, I focused on knowing that the goal was completing the run and that given a chance I would use whatever I possessed to make that happen.

The night before the run I had my sister-in-law Sue, who'd driven up from Mesa, Arizona along with her son, Eli and brother, Scott to crew, to write a few reminders and words of advice along my arms: "Tree to Tree", "Eat like a horse, drink like a fish and walk before you need to" and "You will want to quit but you won't". These temporary inks along with some motivational cards and a letter I'd written mself would serve, I had hoped, to pull me through particaularly low points in the race.

The morning of the run I awoke to a 3:30 alarm after tossing and turning for about five or so hours. I dressed in my Aid Station jersey and Pearl Izumi shorts and headed upstairs to find my crew already embarked on their long and busy day. They were gathering supplies and had made me coffee and prepared two PB&J sandwiches for me to eat for breakfast along with some water. I knew I was up for a challenge eating when it took me the entire drive to Squaw Valley and literally wetting the second half of the second sandwich to finish this breakfast.

Arriving at Squaw Valley we headed to check-in where I got my official race bib and chip that went around your ankle and was weighed a final time. I was up three pounds from the day before, probably due to a large meal and lots of water the day before.

I wore my Injinji toe socks under a pair of Swiftwick socks and my Hoka Stinson shoes. The day before I'd bought a pair of Mountain Hardwear Gators and wore them over my shoes to protect against the sand and dust I'd been warned of prior to the run. In my shorts were a picture of my children. At the start I wore my arm sleeves though I really didn't need to and my Nike hat that I wore throughout that first day. I also wore my Mountain Hardwear vest equipped for the first time with a hydration pack. Along the rim of my jersey I attached my three ipod shuffles, they would carry me for less than thirty minutes of the entire race, a note I'm quite proud of as I have been known to listen to my ipod for entire runs lasting much longer.

Standing around in the dark at the start David Horton who we had seen a few times in the preceeding days came up hugged me, and told me to relax and run smart. Be patient he warned. I was not nervous per se at this point, just ready to be moving. Todd, Eli, Scott and Sue got to be with me right up until the start.

We started at 5 am on the nose and the crowd I was in jogged a short ways before the real climb began and then the majority of us took to walking. Gordy Ansleigh passed by me and I stuck near him for the first few minutes, I did run for about 100yds twice going up the first big climb, the biggest of the day, but both times I felt silly as others were still walking. I settled into hiking up the entire first climb to the summit which marks the highest point on the course. I met a man named Terry who was a good companion up that first steep climb as well as Lisa, a woman I'd met the day before at the race breifing.

Following the suggestion from Josh Gilbert that it may be a nice distraction I carried in my vest my small Nikon Cybershot and took pictures of the amazing sunset and views of Lake Tahoe. Terry and Lisa were good distractions going up the first climb but they pulled ahead as we entered the Granite Cheif Wilderness just past the summit. I didn't pick up the pace by very much but did start running. Unfortunately, my stomach troubled me immediately and there was nowhere to easily hop off trail as the terrain was wide open. I ended up having to climb up a short hill to hide myself from the pack. Terry and Lisa pulled further ahead and out of view.

I was running along this breathtaking scenery, trying to snap shots and take my mind off of running 100 miles. I kept repeating to myself "Be smart, be patient, relax, hydrate" over and over again. I met a lady named Annette who'd run the race twice before and we ran a ways together. There was no snow like is often the case but we had to run through some trenches where my feet got wet at about mile six. I didn't think it was a big deal, some people were being very careful to keep their feet dry but not me. Turns out I should have followed their lead.

I wasn't running hard at all, walking uphills regardless of steepness. I thought I was being smart and patient, hydrating well. Then going up to Lyon's Ridge Gordy passed me, this is awful to admit, but I berated myself a tad for this. I reminded myself once more that I was being conservative because I thought that was smart. Then Gordy took a tumble fifty yards ahead of me, he got up covered in a mess of sweat and blood, the man beside him remarked that he was going to freak the aid station volunteers out. I settled in behind him and repeated my mantra "Be smart, be patient, relax, hydrate". Then I met Jon Shark, a runner from Washington state so friendly and cheerful that it lifted me a tad. I contined to talk to runners around me and take pictures. I came into Lyon's Ridge, about mile 10.5, right behind Gordy and Jon. The aid station volunteers told Gordy he was running strong. Up until this point I'd eaten 9 PB crackers so I took out my empty ziploc sandwich bag and filled it with M&Ms, grapes, Oreos, and crackers. This advice came from Gordy Ansleigh at the panel discussion on Thursday evening and it was thanks to his presence at this aid station that I remembered to actually implement it. Leaving the aid station they hosed me down as the day was heating up already.

Taking off uphill I basked in the beauty around me and ate from my bag. I never saw Gordy again, I later learned he dropped at Foresthill. Running along the ridge it started to get warm and I focused on drinking more and more. This resulted in my having to stop and pee a lot which proved difficult at times as the ridge was wide open and we were still rather close to one another. But still I drank. I met a man named Tim from Baltimore who saw me taking picures like a tourist and offered to take my picture. We talked about Horton races. Then I met another man though I never caught his name we ran a ways together.

At the Red Star Ridge aid station I wasn't feeling great, it had gotten rather warm out and I was just kind of feeling blah. The volunteer assisting me took my picture with my camera and got water and ice in my bottle and ice for my hat. I put more food in my baggie but I'm very sorry to report that somewhere through the next section I lost my little bag. The section between Red Star Ridge and Duncan Canyon was long and hot, I had to keep stopping to pee which often proved troublesome and I was just in a funk. Then my camera, my favorite distraction of the morning, told me that the disk was full. I was out of real food so I ate my first GU of the day.

Finally I could hear the aid station sounds and knew that Eli and Todd should be waiting. I came into the aid station at about 10:45 and the aid station volunteers took my pack and bottle and filled them with ice and water. They doused me with cold water and put more ice in my hat. I ate a piece of watermelon and walked over to my crew. Todd forced me to take salt tabs, my fourth and fifth of the day and two tums as well as drink a Gatorade.

Then I handed Todd my camera and told him that it was full, "I need you to get me a new SD card and get this back to me."

"From where, Alexis?" he answered with a tone that sounded quite annoyed.

I knew he was possibly worried as I'd come into the aid station later than he'd probably expected and too near the 30 hour cut-off in his opinion. "From town? On the way to Dusty Corners? From Sue or Scott?" I suggested.

He gave me this look that was both worried and confused and I knew that I wasn't going to be seeing that camera again for the duration, "We're in the middle of nowhere, Alexis!"

"But I need that camera, I need the distraction!" I pleaded.

"No you don't, you NEED to RUN" he nearly shouted. I knew I was making him concerned, I handed off the camera and finished the Gatarode he was forcing me to consume and took another pack of crackers and some Clif granola bars for the road and ran off towards Robinson Flat.

Then with the help of the Gatorade perhaps or in spite of having lost my only distraction I actually began to run. I ran well, I kept drinking, I kept stopping to pee. I started to pass people and I even started to run a few uphills. I started to come alive, it was hot but I was for the moment OK. There were numerous creek crossings and I stood in them and doused myself with their cool refreshing water every chance I could. I was running well for the first time all day and I knew it. It was about the only high I had all day long and we're talking a day that lasted for nearly 30 hours.

Coming into Robinson Flat people were cheering and saying I looked fresh. I ran up to the scales to be weighed for the first time during the run. I took my vest off and handed it off to get filled and stepped on. I was up weight, up 1 1/2 pounds.  A doctor asked me how I was feeling and I was so thrown off guard by being up weight that I fumbled over my words. They let me pass and I ate some watermelon and headed off in search of my crew. I found Scott and Sue and they made me drink another Gatorade but the weight was starting already to scare me. I didn't eat the salt tabs but I took the tums, some motivational cards for the journey and a PB&chocolate chip wrap for the road, nothing else. Leaving the aid station I heard Jon Shark call my name and we headed out together, I think we were both in good spirits.

We were running downhill through this next section but it was exposed and it was very, very hot. I reminded myself to make it through the day and be smart but being up weight instead of down was making me quite nervous. I'd been counting and I continued to count, I peed 11 times the first ten hours and over 25 times for the whole run. I've NEVER peed more than about three times in a run.

It was pretty much downhill or flat to Miller's Defeat but it was HOT! I passed some people but then I came upon a woman named Lisa who told me that she knew I was half her age and I was going to hate her for this advice but we had some tough climbs and hot canyons approaching and I better be careful. She may have sounded harsh but I knew she'd run the course before and was only trying to help so I backed off a little more. Coming into Miller's Defeat I got more ice in my hat and some in my bandana and was hosed off. I ate a hummus wrap and watermelon and headed out.

Somewhere along here I noticed that my feet were hurting. I made a note to ask at Dusty Corners for socks and Tums, but then I forgot to. This section is all but gone in my memory. I don't remember seeing Todd or Eli here because they pushed me through fast, all I recall is Todd trying to get me to drink a Gatorade but I only drank half as I was worried about the weight.

I ran on to Last Chance and my feet started to bother me more and more. At Last Chance I was hosed off, had ice put in my bra and hat and bandana before heading into the canyons. There was a lot of descending and I remember rounding a very scary drop off that literally made me hug the side of the wall. It was awesome running down into the canyons but they were not what I was expecting. I was expecting more like the Grand Canyon for some reason but it was far more variated with rocks and cliffs and trees. There was a while of descending and between my feet burning and the heat I decided to climb down a trail and into the water before crossing the bridge at the bottom and starting the ascent to Devil's Thumb.

I soaked in the water up to my chest for several minutes and then climbed back out to make my way up Devil's Thumb. This was in my memory the worst climb of the day. I passed people who looked like zombies and didn't respond to "how are you feeling", I passed people stopped and some sitting down. It was hot and slow and 36 switchbacks of carnage. Near the top I passed a man throwing up, it was absolutley horrible, the sounds this poor soul was making made me want to plug my ears. The terrible sounds he made stayed with me for the rest of the climb and really the rest of the day. Arriving at the Devil's Thumb aid station though I felt good other than my feet. The volunteers weighed me and my weight was perfect, between Friday morning and Saturday morning's weights. They got me a popsicle and ice water, they hosed me off and told me I looked really fresh and good. Standing still I felt really fresh and good. They gave me some vegetarian soup and sent me on my way.

I was running downhill and after a mile or so I realized I hadn't seen anyone. I started looking for streamers but there weren't any. There weren't any in hindsight because there wasn't anywhere else to go but I started to do the opposite of being relaxed, I started to freak out a little. I slowed and started looking back uphill for signs of approaching runners. I ran downhill more but now slower because I started to think about having to go back uphill if I was in fact headed the wrong direction. Then I stopped for a minute and no one was behind me, I hadn't realized I was running fast enough to get spread out. Then I may have started to get scared and a little teary eyed. Fortunately I was only stopped for a minute and I saw a runner coming downhill, it was safely patrol no less checking on runners and she assured me I was headed in the right direction. Right after that I saw streamers and then two minutes later a runner up ahead who was walking downhill, his quads were toast.

Running downhill again I was a little mentally worn down and now my feet were really hurting. At the bottom of El Dorado I let them soak me, drank half a cup of coke and headed back uphill. I was anxious to see my crew and the climb to Michigan Bluff, while not as steep as Devil's Thumb was longer and just as hard. I didn't make good time at all as my feet were starting to possess my every thought with pain in every footfall but especially in my left foot. I didn't want to run it hurt so bad, I was convinced I had a huge blister on both bottoms. However, my plantar fasciitis and achilles tendon which were troublesome in the left heel at the start were both feeling fine.

By the time I made it to the aid station I knew my feet needed serious attention or I was out. Eli was standing off to the side ahead of the crew and I yelled "FEET', in retrospect I was probably a little out of it. Todd said "what" and then the aid station volunteers were on me, I got weighed and told them my feet hurt. They suggested having a podiatrist look at them so I agreed. They brought me to a chair and took my shoes and socks off only to find my feet 'badly macerated' from the hot, wet conditions of the day. The lady helping me said it was the worst they'd seen at this point in the day and got her camera, commenting it was pretty gross and looked like brains on the bottom of my feet. But she said it was far enough from my heart I wasn't going to die. They let them air dry a few minutes before putting on powder and the new socks. As they were helping my feet Todd gave me grilled cheese and a coke and a man walked up with a Ten Days/1000 mile buckle. I jokingly asked if he came over to motivate me out of the chair with his buckle. I was still in relatively good spirits. I'd probably been sitting there ten minutes at that point. I got up soon thereafter but the feet hurt as much as before. But at least now I knew what it was.

I headed over to the rest of my crew, drank a little and got my vest back. They took my picture and headed on to Bath Rd at 7:47, I had arrived at 7:25, over twenty minutes had gone by at that aid station. My crew had given me two bottles leaving Michigan Bluff but I hadn't argued, one of them had GU brew in it, they wanted me to drink calories but I got sick almost immediately from the GU brew, having to race into the woods and tripping on a log with my oh so painful feet and stubbing a toe. I ran down to Volcano Canyon knowing I was running towards a pacer, but despite it being almost 8 pm this canyon was just as hot as some earlier in the day.

When we started moving uphill I saw a lot of pacers running in both directions from the aid stations looking for their runners now that it was after 8 pm. I was doing a fair bit of walking uphill and yet was seeing more and more people than in the previous sections on the course. Near Bath Rd I saw a man hobbling with a stick and safety patrol, his race was over. Then I saw Todd headed towards me, someone had told him he could head in now that it was near 9 pm. We stopped only briefly at the aid station to eat a few grapes and watermelon and head off to Foresthill.

By this point it was dark and we were using headlamps. The run from Bath Rd to Foresthill was easy and I was in decent spirits. We got there at 9:18 and I was weighed and given popsicles and saltines. I walked over to meet Scott who walked me to where the car and our little crew station was set up and I ended up passing off this food without eating any of it. At the car they had made soup and I ate a few spoonfuls but we weren't there long, only enough to get my big headlamp situated. Sue got a picture of us and we headed off into the night.

We had 38 miles left and about 13.5 hours, sounded easy enough. We started out on California St. Trail and I was following in Todd's footsteps but he was definitely running harder than my feet felt up to. The trail was rolling but mostly downhill and it shouldn't have been a problem, I'd been saving my legs all day for this part of the course, but I hadn't anticipated my feet hurting like they were.

And then, almost immediately, I started to feel overwhelmingly exhausted. And I don't know why but I allowed that exhaustion to go in and overtake me. I started thinking about how much I just wanted to lie down and go to sleep. I started expressing this to Todd and pretty quickly it escalated to me wanting to quit, just give up, which I swore going in I wouldn't do. I wasn't upset or emotional. I just wanted to sit down on the trail or be in a hotel on a hotel bed. Todd tried his hardest to get me moving, told me about the folks back home. I knew I was tired so I started to think about reasons I shouldn't quit or couldn't quit. I mean I thought of my friends, of the Aid Station, Jeremy, how disappointed Frank would be, how sad I would be, our kids, I was going through all of these thoughts and I just didn't care, I was numb from fatigue.

A few minutes into this walking and after a good dozen runners and their pacers had passed Todd all of sudden starts apologizing and says "Eat!" He starts telling me that he knows that I haven't eaten much of anything since Michigan Bluff and that he was just accepting that I was full but know he knows I'm not full. He tells me to eat a GU and a Granola Bar and M&Ms, and I do as I walk along and dream of the hotel bed I wish so badly to be in. As I'm walking along dreaming of my hotel bed I start realizing the quickest way to a bed is the car Sue and Scott have at Green Gate. And then I remember that I had read if you make it to Green Gate you can make it to Auburn and the next thing I know I'm running again. In retrospect Todd was absolutely right, as the day had worn on it had gotten harder to eat and I'd done a lousier and lousier job of eating. I was running now, but the feet were hurting as much as ever and I was still tired and I didn't know if I was really in this thing anymore or not.

Much of this section at night was just like this, a battle to eat and to run. I remember coming into an alien aid station and then back out and then into another aid station and being so tired I just sat down. Todd brought me soup and a sandwich and I remember this Irish man we'd passed coming into the aid station showed up and sat down beside me as I was eating, he was nauseous and dizzy. As our anxious pacers worked harder for us then we for ourselves we expressed how terrible we felt, how much we wanted this to be over. But I recoginized now that everyone out here was suffereing so I got up from that chair and headed back out.

In the next section my stomach started to give me trouble and I was stopping every five minutes of so due to trouble from it. Then I would try to eat more food and would have the strength to overcome the pain in my feet for a few minutes of running. Coming into the next aid station I sat down once more and talked to Will Jorgenson. There was a lady here who had been stung by 12 bees and they were just waiting to get her out of there. One of the aid station workers, I think the captain, came over to me and said that I looked too good and had come too far to sit in that chair and told me to get up and get moving.

We ran on but the tired was persistently present, the feet screaming and the distance yet to still travel far. Then climbing alongside the river to the Rucky Chucky aid station my right ankle started to bother me. This section seemed like forever even though we could hear it and kept thinking we were closer than we were. At the Rucky Chucky crossing near aid station I got weighed and told them I needed new feet. They asked if I wanted a message for the ankle and I accepted. This killed more time, a lot more time and I could tell Todd was not happy or in support of this, a well rested me would have thought the same. I was holding on hope that the massage would release some of the pain in the achilles tendon, unfortunately, it did not.

Todd made me get up and we went down to the river to cross with great cheers from both sides. We crossed by foot but the water which was promised to be no higher than our knees was up above my waist the whole way through and as high as my chest in some spots. It was cool and refreshing for the most part and would have been great fun had I not been miserable in body and spirit at this point. My ankle hurt more with every step.

Sue and Scott were waiting on the other side. We ate very little, a cheese quesadilla square for me was all. We saw Lee Conner here who I believe had been suffering with stomach trouble. She had picked up a pacer from someone who had dropped and left moving well up to Green Gate. Climbing up to Green Gate was slow and painful, the feet were wet again and it was the only time I got to be on course with Scott and Sue and I reveled in that. At Green Gate we changed socks again and I ate a little but can't recall what so it probably wasn't all that much. Todd changed batteries here too.

We were down to the final twenty and still had roughly 7.5 hours to do it. I went to the bathroom just after leaving the aid station and we were off. In this next section the ankle continued to get worse, I had more stomach trouble, more lows due to pure exhaustion and probably not eating enough. In addition to all of this my calf, the calf that has worried me for months was very tight, it wasn't locking up yet but it was just another factor in making me extremely slow and worried. The next five and a half miles took us nearly two hours, much longer than either of us anticiapted. I started to become very worried that at this pace I wasn't going to finish. Very near the aid station, at over 85 miles into the race, I had an emotional breakdown. Between my stomach, my feet and my ankle I was convinced that I wasn't going to finish even with a constant forward motion. I wasn't even crying but bawling like a baby, stepping aside to let others pass by me, wiping the tears and just at the bottom of everything. I really wanted to finish but was so convinced that I couldn't and wouldn't. The sun coming up on my second day, I was now over the 24 hour mark and we were leap frogging other runners.

At the Auburn Lake Trails aid station I weighed in at my lowest of the entire race, down two pounds from Friday mornings weigh in and over five pounds from the race start. I knew the day was to be as hot as the previous day so I focused on doing the one thing I knew I could still do, hydrate. I ate a few pancake peices and we headed out without dilly dallying, I was running (hobbling) scared.

My ankle was so painful, it felt like a constant stinging and was bringing me to bite my lower lip to begin each short running section, Todd joked that this was the 100 mile shuffle rather than a run of any kind. Running to Brown's Bar there was still more leap frogging which surprised me and at least one good run and one good low. It felt once more like it took forever, there was music coming into this aid station that you could hear much sooner than you were actually at the aid station. I again had stomach trouble but made it to the aid station to use their bathroom as it was not light out and hard to get off the trail.

We had a quick bite after my bathroom break and headed out with just over ten miles and just over four hours left, Todd was still convinced we could do it somehow in just over two hours, it ended up taking more than three. We met a few runners through this section but they were mostly moving faster than us. We made it to Highway 49 crossing. I was weighed and had put back on a pound or so and drank a cup of smoothie. We handed my vest off to Scott and Sue and went forward with just a couple GU and a water bottle.

A good portion of the way to No Hands Bridge was downhill and we managed to shuffle a bit though the pain was awful and the heat coming on. Coming into No Hands Bridge was absolutely beautiful but hot. We stopped for mere seconds at the aid station. My ankly, feet and calf were no longer giving warnings they were putting up a fight with every step. Along the way to Robie's point I had been shuffling along when the calf felt like a deep stabbing pain, I stopped dead went down on it and screamed words I won't repeat. It hurt so bad and moving forward at any rate was seriously beginning to scare me. Todd told me to look ahead and see the runners in sight of us, they were all walking, he remarked that it was the walking wounded headed towards the finish line at this rate.

It was through here we came upon Tim Tweitmeyer who encouraged me that I would finish but it was tough and there was a lot of carnage all around us. We were headed up the final climb to the aid station at Robie Point and there was a woman stopped getting sick with a volunteer or pacer holding back her hair. Usually I can find strength at the end of a race, but here I found myself with none, I felt like I was in a losing battle. A volunteer came to me and took my water bottle and filled it and brought it back to me so I never even stopped at the aid station but my mind was gone, it was only feet moving forward.

We rounded the turn at the aid station and there was Eli taking pictures. We had a mile and a half and an hour and a half to do it in. It's almost terrible to admit but I gave up the fight, pretty convinced I'd finish I allowed myself to walk up the long hill on the paved roads of Auburn. There were many wonderful residents strewn along wishing us well, telling us we looked great. Eli said Scott and Sue were at the top of the big hill so we climbed on to find them, when we reached them they ran along with us and Scott told me every detail of the steps ahead.  He told me where hills would be and where turns would come, he ran right alongside me. We walked the final hill but then it was downhill to the track, surprisingly we came upon and passed Lee Conner in this section, I thought she would come with us when we encouraged but she just continued on walking.

I remember seeing the track a minute before arriving at the fence and just feeling like a robot. Instead of that overwhelming sensation that I had arrived, that I would finish, I chose to spend every ounce of energy  seeing to it that I could indeed run the last section in. There was no crying, I just remember it being incredibly hot and the track portion seemed indecently long. I heard my name on the loudspeaker as I passed by and remembered that I hadn't submitted an "about me" form because I didn't think I'd finish. And just like that, I was done. I crossed at 28:49:05 for 100.2 miles.

It was over then. They gave me water and a medal and weighed me a final time, I weighed exactly what I had at check in Friday morning. I walked over to some buckets of ice and took my shoes and socks off. A volunteer who was spraying off my feet asked if I wanted to see the podiatrist, the podiatrist told me to avoid socks and wear flip flops I would be fine in a few days time.Then Scott went to get my flip flops from the car and Sue, Todd and Eli went to settle into the award ceremony tent and I sat down on the field of the Placer High School track and tried to soak in the moment. Instead of emotion a wave of exhaustion and soreness began to move in. I walked painfully to the tent where they were seated and I couldn't believe I'd finished the race I could barely walk now that I'd given my body permission to stop.

It was about this time that Sue gave me my phone and I started to read and reveice all of the congratulatory messages from my friends and family back home, this more than actually finishing the race, was honestly the highlight of the finish for me. I hadn't realized just how closely people were following my progress, hadn't realized that Charlie Peele and then others had posted the Ultralive feed for others to follow. Despite feeling like my legs were just going to fall off at the hip sockets I felt pretty high there for a moment.

For the next hour we sat in the shade in and out of sleep, Sue and Eli brought me breakfast and Todd water. David Horton came by to congratulate me and give me a hard time about eating and not being trained better, but there was also an honest happiness for me in his words. I remember when the final runner came onto the track the clock read 30:01, I remember that the crowd gathered under the tent, those runners waiting to receive their buckles and their families and crews, they all joined in giving the runner a standing ovation. He would not be buckled. Everyone of us felt it and it was then that the feat of what I had endured gently washed over me and the emotions briefly but greatly spread through me.

Shortly afterward Todd told me I could go spend a fortune in the Fleet Feet running store set up on the field that sold Western States gear. Call me an absolute fool but I wanted that bumper sticker that said 100.2. However, getting up and walking to the car proved entirely troublesome. Sue agreed to go with me but halfway to the car nausea and the pain in my feet made me sit down. She went to the car and got my wallet and it took me even longer to make it back to the track. I just sat down again. My feet hurt so bad I didn't want to walk the extra 200 yards to get my bumper sticker. A half hour later Todd helped me over to the store and I got a little bit of Western States gear. Literally I sat on the field and he graciously went through and showed me items. He was really sweet about it.

And then we moved back slowly to our spot under the tent and watched every runner, even some of those who didn't finish officially finish, get recognized for their acheivements. Every runner was asked to come up and individually receive their buckly. There were several people waiting to shake every runner's hand including Andy Jones Wilkins and Tim Tweitmeyer. I was really touched by that. And then I got 'buckled'.

Over the rest of the day the exhaustion and pain overtook me, I ate little and definitely didn't stay on hydration like I should have. By 8 pm we were all asleep in the hotel room.

The next morning I was feeling physically better already but the negative numbingness was already setting in, I should have eaten more, spent less time at aid stations, fought harder through the pain. Fortunatetly, Todd reminded me of this quote:

"Your days are short here; this is the last of your springs. And now in the serenity and quiet of this lovely place, touch the depths of truth, feel the hem of Heaven. You will go away with old, good friends. And don't forget when you leave why you came."   -Adlai Stevenson

You see I went to Western States to finish. I wanted to see if I could walk willingly into something that completely frightened me, something that seemed impossible and then see it through. Looking back I can easily identify a mistake or two that was made, primarily not eating enough, not keeping my feet dry enough and spending too much time at aid stations but there was no mistake in my being there. I look forward to an opportunity to go back stronger, more self-assured and re-test myself against the High Sierras but for now finishing will do.

"For the Western States 100 is terribly honest in its demands and rewards. During these two-dozen hours in the wilderness we will be governed apart from the world of political favors, hidden agendas, and orchestrated cheers. Our number – which includes woodsmen, ranchers, nurses, investment bankers, mechanics and computer engineers – will all be measured on the same scale. We will test ourselves against the mountains." Antonio Rossman

I am feeling pretty good today, my muscles are at the surface recovered, my feet nearly so and my ankle waiting on a run to deliver the final word on its progress. In testing myself against the mountains I didn't come up as strong as I'd hoped, but I've yet to determine if it was primarily a lack of training, inexperience or a mental fortitude deficit. I do know one thing quite completely, I have at least another hundred miler in my bones though not one on the schedule...yet.

In closing I want to thank the Aid Station for their sponsorship, my friends and family for their support, my mother-in-law for taking wonderful care of our children and home while we were away, for my amazing crew, Scott, Sue and Eli who did more than I'm sure they really realize and for Todd whom without I most certainly wouldn't have finished as he kept me moving forward towards Auburn.

-Alexis

Race Report: Conquer the Cove Trail Marathon (Alexis)

Going into this race I knew two things: 1.) I was likely not going to win, not with Dacia Reed on the entrant list and 2.) I had committed to a second run in the afternoon in an attempt to run upwards of 50 miles as my last (extremely) long day before Western States. Knowing these things I was still unsure of whether I was going to 'race' or just 'train' through the marathon as I waited at the start line for the Conquer the Cove Marathon to begin.

Fortunately, I've made many friends in the Mountain Junkies scene and decided to focus on catching up with them rather than the bigger, longer task ahead. Starting out on the road I allowed myself to fall back, maintaining a ten minute pace on asphalt as I watched many of the runners I like to run with pull away. I figured it was important to warm up and that it was a long race, that I could catch up. Reaching the Trough trail I was feeling good but already sweating despite not overly pushing it. I was caught up in a conversation when we came across the first water stop. It was early, I thought the aid stations were two miles apart and so I made the fatal race error to skip this aid station seeing as my bottle was halfway full.

I should have seen that bottle as halfway empty.

Running on, I was sweating and drinking and not long after my bottle was empty and I looked at my watch and we were not even four miles in, I began to grow concerned. Then over the next few miles I began to have little sizzling calf cramps all over my lower legs, they were not debilitating but they were fearsome and I backed off my pace and kept listening for sounds of the next approaching aid station which, to my absolute dismay, turned to be much further out than I had anticipated. I slowed down fearing that if I ran hard it would make me sweat more and become worse off. Clearly I did a poor job of reading the water stop description and paying attention at the first aid station sign, both of which would have prepared me for the distance between aid stations.

I was so thankful when I finally heard the sounds of the aid station but there was still a switchback or two before we finally came upon it. I filled my bottle with water and drank a cup of Gatorade, something that I never do but hoped it would help stop the cramping.

I took a GU, some salt pills and drank up the water but I still continued to experience the little sizzling cramps. I focused on staying steady even if it was slower than I would have liked and was happy to finally be sweating again. At the third aid station I drank two cups of Gatorade and filled my bottle once again. In the Enchanted Forest I had a moment where I thought I was on the wrong trail and slowed a little as I was all alone, I was really considering turning around when I finally caught sight of a runner ahead and decided that at least I wasn't alone anymore even if I was lost. Thankfully, however, I wasn't lost and soon saw a streamer again.

Through this section of the race I kept wavering about whether to just call it a day and just finish or try and pick the pace up. For a few minutes I would decide none of it mattered, just enjoy the day and my surroundings. Other times I would decide that the race was long and I still had a chance of a good day. Then other times I was down on all of it and had to convince myself to keep a steady moving pace. It's too early for this to be your wall, find your will, I would try to encourage. At one point in the down and out I saw Randy and Lauren up ahead and picked up the pace to catch up with them. I was hoping we could help each other along. They were quiet, as was I, and Lauren's stomach was upset, I moved ahead slowly as Randy wished me a good day.

With the poor hydrating choice early on I had forgone any GU schedule and I had the overall feeling that even if I was just 'training through' I wasn't really even doing a good job with this training run. At mile 13 I finally looked at my watch for the first time in a long while, it said 2:07. The race was advertised at being 26.4, I figured I would be lucky to hit under 4:20 at all and I knew that the '1,000 foot climb' was still looming up ahead. I decided to restart a GU schedule of every 40 minutes and run as steady as possible.

I was hoping to find runners up ahead to try and pull me but I was out there alone for miles, I ended up having to go to my iPod for help. I started focusing on mile signs and when the big climb was coming. When I reached the climb I found the first part to be the hardest, the section that is before the aid station, I had to walk and tried to alternate with short bursts of both running and walking. I knew I was walking too much and that if I walked this much of the climb I was destined to run more like 4:30.

Coming into the aid station I took a GU, drank a little more Gatorade and filled my bottle. The awesome volunteers directed me to tubs of cold towels and I washed my face and neck down with one which was amazing. I left the aid station knowing I had to run stronger than I was really feeling like running, I wanted to be done, I knew I'd regret it later if I didn't try and do my best on the hill. I tried to convince myself that if I ran well I might catch someone on the hill. I started running and ran the next mile, but I didn't see another runner. I gave myself a break but in retrospect I have a tendency to just be lazy, I didn't probably need that break. I tried to 'hike' thinking of Western States and the need to be a good hiker, but my watch said over 16 minute pace and I felt strong enough to run so I just went back to running deciding to save practicing hiking for another day. I did take another two short walk breaks but I think the hill was actually easier than I found it last year. I had run slower to get to the climb than last year's race so maybe that plays a part in it but I found it to have more flattish sections than I recalled from the year before. Then finally I saw a female up ahead. Thinking she was the first runner I had seen in miles, I set my sights on her. Then up ahead I saw another figure, I could have sworn their running posture was incredibly familiar. I thought it was my husband Todd.

I picked up the pace but the runner I thought was Todd disappeared on a slightly downhill section, I couldn't decide if this further suggested it was Todd who runs well downhill or if I was possibly just dreaming his presence pulling me ahead. I ran harder to try and find out. The aid station that represents the top of the climb and begins the descent to the finish appeared and I became more certain that the runner ahead was Todd, his form is uniquely his own. I ran harder in the hopes that we could push each other towards the finish. Whenever I come across Todd in a race it is the same way, I offer to help push each other along and he barely speaks to me, just pushes me on ahead. I tried to give him ibuprofen at the aid station but he just told me to chase down the girl who had left the aid station just as we were arriving.

Deciding not to argue I ran on ahead even though he is usually a much better downhill runner than I am. Not long after beginning the decent my stomach started to bother me. I began to slow and then my body told me to find a tree or else. I listened and climbed into the woods watching as Todd passed by. Having no toilet paper I managed the best that I could and climbed out of the woods in the hopes of still chasing them down if my stomach would cooperate. I was a little worried as it was in this section last year that my race literally fell apart with debilitating cramps all the way to the finish line. I had continued to have little sizzling cramps all day and was worried these were a sign of worse to come. I caught back up with Todd who encouraged that I pass him again and chase down the runner ahead. I figured I was fifth at best, knowing Dacia, Courtney and Sarah were still ahead of me and the female runner directly ahead. I caught up with Shelby, ran behind her for a moment, she didn't really seem to want me to pass her, which is completely understandable on downhill technical trail at 20+ miles in to a marathon. But I had found a little bit of that racing competitiveness in myself and thought I would use it while I had it.

Once I was ahead of Shelby I wondered how far ahead Courtney and Sarah were, I decided to pick up the pace in the hopes that I could at least decrease the time between us. I took two more salt pills hoping that would keep cramps at bay. Running along the fireroad I thought I saw Sarah up ahead. I was starting to get a little tired but I held on hoping I could catch Sarah. Over a little hill I caught a runner, a female from the 25k, and wondered if I really had seen Sarah at all. Then coming up to the final aid station I was sure it was Sarah ahead. I stopped at the aid station trying to wolf down a GU and drink a little water before I went out to chase. I was watching Sarah pull ahead and choking on the cup of water and I got excited. Seriously all day had been kind of a bummer and seeing Sarah up ahead made it feel like the race that it was. I had been looking for Sarah and Courtney all day after I had passed Lauren but had decided after the climb there was probably no chance in running either of them down.

I took off on the asphalt and it was a quick minute before I could even see Sarah again. She was running STRONG! I don't know if she had seen me when she was at the aid station but she was burning the road up. I was running hard and loving every second of it. She turned and looked at me and I swear she picked it up even more, I looked down and we were running a 7:10 at over 25 miles into the marathon. I was so thankful that she was there, I knew I wouldn't have pushed like this if she wasn't. Then I had a moment where I questioned chasing her down, but I'll be honest, I thought I might still have a chance of a top 3 finish, I thought I should give it my all if that was still a possibility. Turning on to the trail I got even more excited, I don't know where Sarah trains, but I know where I train and that is mostly on trails, I thought I had a better chance of chasing her down on trails then on roads which are not my strong suit. At the same time I knew we were extremely close to the finish line. She fought hard to the finish, and I passed her less than thirty seconds out from the finish line. I finished in 4:17 with her right behind me. Then I realized we were 5th and 6th female and I kind of felt like a jerk. Todd had to keep reminding me over the evening that it was a race and Sarah wouldn't have hard feelings. I think a little of me felt like I needed that finish but then afterwards it didn't give me any satisfaction.

In the end it was an alright day. I think I made a pivotal error by not filling my bottle up at that first aid station. But between the cramps and stomach trouble I still had a day that wasn't all that bad. Todd and I had made plans to run again that afternoon. After about an hour of socializing with our fellow Mountain Junkies we headed to Lynchburg to finish up our double. I had taken my wet shoes off at the race and had discovered a handful of blisters on my feet, probably from being dehydrated and that made for a painful shoe change as we went back out for more trails.

Other than painful feet the start of the second run went better than I had expected. But then storms moved in on us which was honestly less than fun. And then my stomach went south. Like worse than Hellgate last December. I was stopping every five minutes and running, especially downhill, was murder. I had an awesome, supportive group out there in the rain with me, encouraging me to keep moving no matter how slow. I really wish that I could bring them to Western States with me. I know I would have called the run after the first half hour of stomach trouble. Unfortunately, the stomach trouble plagued me for the entire second run which was over three hours and was definitely short of my 50 mile goal for the day. My highly supportive friends who suffered through many stops and two storms would have gone on but I decided that my legs would easily carry me the extra mileage but that the stomach wasn't really making the suffering through the thunderstorm of any real benefit. I felt confident that I could keep moving physically but that the stomach was through for the day. We still managed about 40 for the day and this way I might be able to run by Tuesday.

This morning I feel fine. Still have a few painful blisters and my back is chaffed uncomfortably but I could run on those today if I had to run. My legs feel pretty good for their effort yesterday. Overall, I'm content and sometimes that's as good as it gets.

-Alexis

Race Report: Trail Nut Half Marathon

Mountain Junkies LLC
Trail Nut 10k & Half Marathon
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Bedford, VA

This was the second Mountain Junkies event we had the pleasure of experiencing back in 2010 when I first discovered this amazing series of races. The Mountain Junkies are a husband and wife duo that "want you to have a great time", a tagline that is evident in every aspect of the events they put together. This event, the Trail Nut 10k and Half Marathon, is one of my favorites and so close to home I couldn't pass it up even with that vow I made with myself about racing anything this short before Western States (and then of course there's that ridiculous streak of mine).

I ran the 10k in 2010, it was only my third 10k ever, second on trails and I fell in love with the park that the race introduced me to and even more in love with single track. In 2011, hellbent on finishing the series despite being pregnant, I ran the 10k and announced with my t-shirt that I was expecting a 'future Mountain Junkie'. Last year was my first attempt at the half marathon, for which personal problems led to a pretty down evening and morning before the race start. I started the race hungry and with my mind elsewhere, with legs only a week off of my second ultra, and suffered greatly.

After swearing off shorter races earlier this year when the calf trouble befell me I had to sorrowfully remove the Mountain Junkies RNUTS from my race calendar. However, after last weekend's not so stellar performance at Promise Land I began contemplating the Trail Nut. I thought about just coming out, maybe sweeping the course or being a cheerleader, but I'd seen the race t-shirt and wondered just how I could do at a race for which speed of some sort would be necessary. Todd was encouraging that I run the half, not 'sandbag' and race the 10k, he was also excited about seeing what he could do at the half marathon.

Back and forth on registering, as well as which distance to choose all the way up until we arrived at Falling Creek Park kept the nerves and race jitters down to a very fine low, almost nonexistent. Uncertain how my calf would react I registered for the half marathon, figuring the distance would afford a slighter slower overall pace. With a few minutes to spare before the race briefing I joined Todd for a quick warm-up.

The pace was slow and the calf felt good, I began to think I could pull it off. I figured I would be fifth, trailing Dacia, Courtney, Lauren and Carrie, as long as I could hold it together.

Turns out "holding it together" is a real challenge for me.

I positioned myself at the start line around  Lauren, Courtney, Randy, people I thought I should be able to run with if I ran well. When the race began I tried to go out with them. Through the grass we ran, I was keeping with them but also immediately feeling the pace, you can't keep this, Alexis, back off now. Backing off before we even entered the single track was blow number one. When the calf began to tighten, as should be expected at this point, I tried to push through. When the pain in my calf began to spread to my foot like it did at that fateful 5k back in February I had to reign it in further and lose several more positions. This was blow number two. With the calf now irritated and with a diminishing pace I began to fall victim to the negativity, contemplating a DNF. Just tell Josh your leg can't handle this, you just ran an ultra a week ago, this was foolish at best. Struggling along, the determined side of me spoke up, you can finish this, it may take three hours, but you don't DNF, it's not who you are. 

The next few miles were a tad bit miserable, but I was in this thing. I was slipping just slightly in pace as I fought on, hoping the pain in my calf would ease as it is known to do after a few miles. I just kept trying to reassure myself that it would pass. However, by the time I found myself running on pavement the pain was radiating up the hip, not full out painful, but a threat of some kind. To top it off I've been dealing with a touch of plantar fasciitis in the other foot that decided to share it's frustration with me at this point. The persistent pain, while not severe, was blow number three. I was an absolute mess.

Then, shortly before the bike park, Sarah Taylor passed me looking strong. I followed closely behind as we made our ways up the grassy hill, taking in her beautiful stride, admiring her strength. When we came into the bike park and it was flat with countless people ahead of us running seemingly in circles my first thought was this is just cruel! I could see the runners ahead of me, but then as I ran further into the flat, winding section I began to see the happy, strong faces of runners quickly approaching. I always feel a certain weakness on flats and Saturday was no different. I started to focus on Sarah, how strong she looked.

Suffering in the first miles. Photo courtesy Mountain Junkies.

And finally, that determined side spoke up, louder this time: She IS strong! But you are strong, too. Yes, you feel pain, but aren't you an ultra runner? Isn't overcoming pain part of what it takes for success? Push aside the pain, pick up the pace and run strong. I heard these thoughts and I believed them. And just like that, my race came back together, instantly. I picked up the pace and focused on that strength that I possess but consistently forget to harness.

I still felt pain in my left heel and right hip, but I started to drown them out with this new-found focus on running well. If there was anymore negative self-talk it was only that it shouldn't take me nearly five miles to decide to run on strengths, not deficiencies. The next six miles were run well, I began to settle into a better race, a better day. I was a little disoriented coming through the first loop, unsure whether I should really be crossing the finish line or not. I decided to stop at the aid station to fill up my water bottle, I was worried it would heat up in the second loop, but I probably should have just dropped the empty bottle at what would be the finish line, I didn't end up drinking much of the water and it probably cost me some time.

Going out for the second, shorter loop I felt pretty good, the heel was the only thing still really nagging me and I hoped to drop the pace even more. However, at about eleven miles the fatigue began to set in. I would have to settle for holding the pace, the legs may be capable of holding that pace for a half marathon but they really just aren't trained for it at the moment. When I came upon Blake with less than two miles to go I wondered when he had passed me. He said he'd accidentally cut the course, that he'd already told Gina about it and that he'd see me at the finish as he let me pass by him.

Coming into the final miles a volunteer directing the half marathoners told me I was in third place for females, I had been kind of hoping to chase Courtney down, but there was no one out in front of me that I could see. I had a runner behind me the entire second loop, I kept encouraging him to pass me but he kept assuring me that he was just trying to hold on. The short, but slightly steep final section of trail was not as hard as I recalled last year. I had planned on not pushing the final steps but when I saw I was capable of breaking 1:50 I picked up the pace to secure that feat.

Within moments of passing the finish line I had several people tell me I was third female and several tell me I was fourth. I didn't let the confusion bother me, I was preoccupied with a fair bit of itching. I had sat down in the grass and I don't know if that's what caused the itching but most of my legs and torso itched. Thankfully, Gina saved me with a Benadryl.

Turns out, I was third. One of the females in the race had unintentionally cut the course along with Blake and a few other guys. I felt really bad about this, like I was stealing third. Todd assured me that, while everyone involved felt bad, I was third and shouldn't feel bad about accepting the award.

Courtney Griffin (2nd), Dacia Reed (1st) and Alexis Thomas (3rd)

I urge everyone who hasn't run a Mountain Junkies race to do so, I have started several posts about just how well put together and carried out they are, but I think you just need to go out and participate to really feel what I would try to convey in a post. Conquer the Cove is next month, go sign up! You won't be sorry, but you may be sore!

Once again, post race, I'm floundering, frustrated. I feel lost. I know I can run well but being injury prone and with Western States looming closer everyday I am probably worse than ever before. I told Todd yesterday that I can't wait for July 1st, I'm just ready to see how it all turned out. I keep saying that I don't want to disappoint everyone, but to be honest, I'm most worried that I am going to disappoint myself, fall apart and quit before my time. If I could just locate that strength I know I have, bottle it up and have it ready I know I would be alright but instead I keep misplacing it, and that has me truly running scared.

-Alexis

Alexis's Promise Land 50k Race Report

The one where 'Little Miss Efficiency' fights by the skin of her overly bitten nails to scrape out a Top 10 overall female finish and a PR.

Promise Land 50k++
Big Island, VA
Saturday, April 27th, 2013

If you were in contact with me Friday evening at the Promise Land camp I would have liked to think I appeared calm and collected, I was trying hard to pull off calm, I realize collected is a stretch when you're missing so many marbles. Kathie told me Saturday after the race that she was a nervous wreck hoping to find serenity in my smiles and jokes of which she swore I was absent during the race briefing the night before. Truth is there was an ominous feeling surrounding the race for me.

I've been treating a calf calamity since late February and just when I think I've made it through the injury it comes back with a vengeance, snickering and finger pointing. Monday, because I'm in such a need of reassurance, I went out for a flat not-quite-tempo pace run. Hoping to run four miles in under 32 minutes I thought I performed a sufficient warm-up and embarked on my workout. To my dismay my calf started in before the first mile marker. I thought I could just run through, give it added attention by way of rolling and stretching later. At two miles the pain had forced me to stop, after a few minutes massage I headed back to my car, frustrated and crushed.

I immediately headed over to The Aid Station to seek the advice and support of either Jake or Jeremy. I realized a few seconds too late that I shouldn't be there, shouldn't be troubling them with my petty problems. They tried to be helpful and they were certainly friendly but I was embarrassed that I had come to them and just wanted to disappear. Standing there, a pest to their afternoon, I was fighting back tears, please don't cry, get out, quick, go. I managed to hold it together but for the rest of the week I did little running, even skipped a few planned workouts, and lost the interest to even be stressed about this race. Usually I make a huge deal of race week, but my frustration with the calf had drained me to new levels.

There's easily 40,000 words and enough to be said about Friday evening and early Saturday morning to fill its own post, but I'll sum it up by saying that there is something very special and unique that takes place at the Promise Land camp each year come late April.

The hour before the race was busy with PB&J consumption and bag balm application and the race itself began before I was truly ready. I was still standing under the pavilion fixing my hat as runners began pulling out of the camp. I started my simple stopwatch feature on my watch at least a few seconds after the race had begun, but I wasn't sure exactly how late.

I had spent some time during the week convincing myself that it was, as my friend Chelsie had told me before Masochist last fall, just a long run in the mountains with friends, but I couldn't completely wrap my head around that, I want to feel better and run strong again. Leaving the camp I was very focused on running easy  and warming the calf up nice and slowly, hoping that would be enough to keep it happy. Last year I'd run all the way to the 'End Road Maintenance' sign before having to walk, this year, I didn't make it half a mile. And for some reason the walk break just seemed to make the calf even more angry. I tried to alternate between walking and jogging but the tightening started to get intense about two miles into the race.

So little miss basket-case did exactly what some may expect of her at this point, she fell apart. I've experienced the desire to quit races before. I've wanted to donate my running shoes and pick up juggling or collecting postmarks but never this early in the race, never before the first aid station. It caught me so off-guard, this mental debacle, and all the negative swarmed me so quickly I couldn't throw up any kind of defense. Here I am, in the dark, climbing slow and painfully to the first aid station and I decide that I actually hate running. I even took it as far to assume that someone at the aid station would drive me back to the camp, because even if it was all downhill back to the car I was that through with running.

In full disclosure the resulting struggle was so nasty that I thought I might have a personality disorder, these thoughts were moving through me far faster than I was making it up that first climb, "Horton is right, you're too weak mentally to do this," (He never actually said that, but it hurt me all the same) "Why do you think you can do this? You're not going to Western States, you won't finish. Who do you think you are? Let's just quit." But then there was the side trying to get us to stay in this thing, cheering us on, "It's a long race, you can come back, hold on, hold on, it doesn't always get worse. Your calf will loosen up, you will run again. It isn't over, you still have more than a 50k to run. Deep down you are a strong runner. Just keep moving forward. Remember: 'Tree to tree'."  Some days I really don't know why I run ultras, to be alone with myself and my thoughts for all that time can be a real struggle.

I made it to the first aid station three minutes slower than last year, and went past without even stopping, I didn't trust myself to get too close to the table or the volunteers. I was with Tommy and Wade but I don't even think I spoke to them I was in such a bad place I was afraid any words I spoke would be venomous. I hiked a lot of this next section, it's hard to say if my calf was even still really tight or if the race was currently lost to my being a complete headcase. When I came across Chelsie directing people in the woods she told me I was in twenty something place for females, honestly she'd lost count, and Todd was eight minutes ahead already. You can make it up in the grassy section my optimistic side cheered. Unfortunately for Team Optimism, I was passed by another half dozen or so runners in the grassy section, the section that I usually look forward to the most.

Then, as if things couldn't get worse, I became nauseated. This was also a first for me, I had to slow and dreaded taking my second GU. When the time came to fuel I was seriously worried that consuming the GU would send my nausea over the edge, but I forced it down and waited for any repercussions. Unfortunately, the nausea remained but I didn't lose my GU. I felt like Alexander in that book about the terrible day, I considered moving to Australia. I kept looking at my watch hoping that it wasn't time to refuel yet as I couldn't shake the feeling that I was going to throw-up.

I decided that I should ask for cola at the next aid station and just began focusing on making it to there. I saw Blake and Kevin up ahead but I just couldn't convince myself to pick up the pace with the nausea. The aid station was sort of a mess when I finally arrived, there were a lot of runners at the aid station when I got there but I had to wait a long time for someone to fill up my bottle and they didn't have any soda out so I had to find the cola and a cup and the aid station was empty other than volunteers when I finally left. Turns out there had been some trouble with this aid station finding their location, but I was even more frustrated with the whole day when I left the aid station. I was running on empty. I had hoped in the previous miles that if I could catch up with and keep up with Kevin and Blake that I could take my mind off of all the mental collapsing and nausea but I was having a hard time just simply running at all yet alone trying to catch up with them.

And then, shortly after entering the White Oak Ridge trail I happened upon Lauren Brown. Lauren is a great runner that I met through the Mountain Junkies races, she is strong and competitive and in some ways she reminds me of me. I was surprised to see her. Turns out she was also suffering from stomach upset. We were both hiking, remembering this section more pleasantly from Terrapin, exchanging our day's dose of woes.  But the few minutes of conversation with Lauren did two huge things for my day. One, it awarded me that reprieve from myself that I needed to take my mind off of the rough start and nausea but more importantly it was the tangible proof that even strong runners have bad days.

For the first time all day I began to feel just the slightest ounce of strength, I left Lauren hoping sincerely that she would feel better and hoping to finally move forward with my day. I still hiked more than I felt like I should but I came across Kevin and then Blake and again these quick conversations were a gift. Shortly after passing Blake I realized we were about to cross the parkway. Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero's came on the Ipod, 'That's What's Up' and the song including the lyrics "While I was feeling such a wreck, I thought of losing my mind' also helped me along.  I saw Kelly Reece and Tim Spaulding up ahead and set my sights on them. Again, these brief conversations were the highlights of this half of the race.

I ran to Sunset Fields better than I had all day but being careful not to run too hard. I met a man training for Wasatch and then came upon Blanks out taking pictures who said we were near Sunset Fields.  Tim Perry was there to offer me some aid and I was very thankful, though I may not have showered him with the appreciation I should have, it had been a long morning up until this point. I arrived to Sunset Fields about fifteen to twenty minutes slower than last year. Jared Hesse was there and I confided in him that I'd expected calf trouble but not the nausea, he encouraged me to keep drinking and eating on schedule despite the stomach trouble. I drank more cola and headed off for more descending.

I was only a few hundred yards in when I turned to see Phil Layman behind me, I didn't remember passing him and even considered him a possible hallucination on my part when he didn't come barreling past me in the following miles. It was here that I finally started to actually do some running. I passed a few groups of people and remembered chasing Todd last year through this very section, as his jersey disappeared from sight. I caught sight of Kathie up ahead once or twice but wasn't gaining on her despite my increased pace. I ran a little harder in the hopes of catching up with her. Then my left ankle turned to jelly on a rock when I was paying more attention to up ahead and not down in front through a rocky spot. I fell down for a moment, legs going in two different directions, water bottle in another. Don't get cocky, you'll catch her or you won't. The first few steps back on my feet I was anxious that I may have twisted the ankle but it appeared fine, just a momentary lapse of bone and tendon in that leg I suppose.

I navigated the creek crossings trying to focus on keeping a good pace over staying dry and I caught and passed a few more runners. Then through a technical section I caught Kathie, she told me she'd been waiting for me to chase her down ever since she'd seen me as she ran into the White Oak section. We continued to run hard and talk and then I noticed Andrew Charron up ahead. Oh yes, I whispered aloud to Kathie with no further explanation and picked up the pace just a tad bit more. Closing in on Andrew but without him even turning back to see me he said "Oh nooooo" to which I responded "YES!" And just like that a chase, a mini race, began. It was awesome, I loved all forty eight seconds of it. We came into the aid station giving high fives and joking that we were done, Andrew had just won the race. We had made the aid station in 3:22, ten minutes slower than last year. Doubling the time I realized that I wouldn't run a PR unless I ran very strong on the dark side. I grabbed more cola as my water bottle was being filled and was headed out when I saw Horton sitting in a seat with a clipboard. "So am I still 25th female?" I asked. "No, you're 15th or 16th" he answered. In a surprisingly good mood having just encountered Andrew I joked "Good only five more to track down" and away I ran. In no way did I think I would actually get into the Top 10. I was just so thankful to be somewhat enjoying myself, it is after all a long day to not find yourself enjoying even a moment.

I dislike this section, truth be told I've only run it a few times, but it just confirms my weaknesses as I struggle to maintain a decent pace on flat, easily navigable terrain. Kathie pulled ahead quickly and I envied her strength and speed. I settled into a pace that would suffice and realized that now I was having stomach troubles of a different kind, the find yourself a tree quickly kind. Andrew and Clifton Williams caught back up and we ran together but just briefly. Up ahead Kathie slowed and then we were together in a big group and I was really starting to eye every tree stump and patch of brush. Kathie said she needed a pit-stop when I finally confided in her that I needed to stop and we stopped quickly. Fortunately, the stop didn't kill too much time and we were off and running within a few minutes. I was very happy when we saw the markings for the turn into the woods a few minutes later.

Last year it was in this following section that Todd and I fell apart. I knew if I was to have any hope whatsoever of pulling the day back together I would have to run stronger through here. Kathie and I caught another female here but Andrew and Clifton pulled away. We ran with just a few walk breaks but somewhere just before the Colon Hollow aid station Kathie started to drop off. The guy ahead and I joked that it was so cruel to place this aid station at the top of such a hill this far into the race but we walked anyways, heads hung low.

I turned down the offer of ice cream and just drank a small cup of soda as my water bottle was filled. I was surprised how quickly I'd made it to this aid station and knew that the next aid station would be further than it would ever seem possible. In this next section I came across Clark Zealand running the opposite way of the race as well as a few other runners, including Andrew. I saw Randy on the road climb and he asked about Lauren and told me that Courtney was only a few hundred yards ahead of me. I was feeling better but knowing that Courtney was up ahead helped me keep up the strong pace. I saw Mike Donahue along this section and he was in a very uplifting mood even though I don't think he was running quite as well as he had hoped. At some point we were back on a grassy section and I saw Courtney.

Courtney had taken a tumble on the descent to Cornelius Creek and was bleeding. She joked that she was a klutz with a blood phobia, she seemed in pretty good spirits despite her tumble but her shirt looked as though she'd lost a fight. We hiked a ways together and I would have loved to traverse the woods longer with her but I was seriously beginning to think I could still pull a PR out of my hat if I kept up my new found race.

I started to do all sorts of mathematical equations and distances from aid stations to see if I could still pull out a PR and somewhat save the day and caught up with another group of runners just as we made it to the single-track, muddy trail that completes the loop back to Cornelius creek. And once again there was Blanks taking pictures as we crossed the poor bridge and headed to the aid station.

Headed into Cornelius creek on the out and back I was surprised to see Zach Quigg and Kristen Chang, two people who should always be much further ahead of me at this point in a race. A further reminder that even strong runners have bad days. At the aid station I was confused for a volunteer and filled up a water bottle of a runner coming down from Sunset Fields before I could begin the hike up the falls. I came into the aid station at 4:50, two minutes faster than last year. I had made up some time on the loop and was hopeful that I could climb better than last year up the falls.

I started up the falls and ran more than I ran last year in this section. I passed Kristen here, she had been suffering all day with stomach trouble and I felt really bad for her. I ran some more and caught up with the group ahead of me that included Rick Gray, Marlin Yoder and Laura Duffy. I felt okay physically but I just couldn't seem to go any faster, it was a little discouraging. I was running more than I recall running last year but wasn't really making any better time. At the falls we saw Blanks again, he ran a little ways up the trail with us taking our picture, and we joked that we had our own personal photographer. Despite feeling better I realized as we crossed back over the road we'd taken down to Cornelius creek the first time that I wasn't going to make it much faster than last year. I wondered if a PR would be at all possible but pushed ahead regardless.

My water bottle was empty and I was beginning to feel that particular tightness in my calves that signifies cramps coming on so I took two Endurolytes even though I didn't have water and hoped for the best. I absolutely love my Mountain Hardware vest, I carried everything, probably an exceeding surplus for the day, but it was lightweight and more than sufficient to carry everything for a 50k without a crew, however I probably should have carried another water bottle. Exiting the woods I found I was having a bit of a hard time walking straight. At the aid station I filled my water bottle and drank some Mountain Dew.

Photo Courtesy Blanks Blankenship

Photo Courtesy Blanks Blankenship

Looking down at my watch I realized it was 5:48, I'd climbed the falls just barely faster than last year. A tad discouraged I ran on in hopes of still fighting for a sub 6:30 finish even though my hopes were mostly dashed at this point. I ran until just past the little clearing where it becomes a hill. I should have run this hill but I also felt like I should take one last break as once I started to run again it would all be downhill and hard downhill at that. 

This next part is very simple. I was vested enough at this point that I really, really, really wanted something positive out of this day. That something was a PR, and a sub 6:30 PR if at all possible. And so I ran hard, and prayed that my calves would hold up. I have a tendency towards cramps when I try to push hard at the end of a race.  When I got to the last aid station I had nineteen minutes to run in a sub 6:30, again I didn't feel overly hopeful but I had to give it my all. At the end road maintenance sign I had fifteen minutes. I saw a guy up ahead and set the short-term goal of chasing him down. Fortunately, my legs were holding up but then I saw the bridge and glanced at my watch. I wasn't going to make 6:30. I thought about backing off the pace, but I told myself that even if I wasn't going to break 6:30 I should still give it everything to try and break that time even if I fell short. I saw the squirrel at the driveway,then Dylan Perry, then the entrance to the camp. 

Finish Line Photo Courtesy Joyce Perry

When I could finally see the clock I unexpectedly could still break 6:30, so I ran a little bit harder. They have me down as 6:29:48, I'll take it. I ran across the finish line as Horton delivered even more surprising news, I had squeaked into the overall Top 10 female finishers. I had assumed that I was further back but tenth spot in addition to just barely scraping together a sub 6:30 was, I won't lie, very nice. 

Great Group of People. Photo Courtesy Joyce Perry

The finish line was full of congratulations and that was nice but I was not overall very happy about my day, just happy for it to be over really. I was most proud of pulling through and a strong finish but there at the finish I was silently vowing never to run Promise Land again. But then as I began to compile my thoughts over the rest of the weekend for this report I kept being reminded of many things that I truly enjoyed: pitching the tent with Sam and Dennis, Wade's surprise Cherry Coke Zero, my favorite food group-pizza, the bonfire, the Gonzalez camper tour, Kelly's pre-race squeeze, talking before the race with Jamie, Lauren, Courtney, Dacia, and countless others, the dip in the creek afterwards, the sprint race with Andrew, Tim's help, Joyce's cheering, seeing out of towners like our fellow Mountain Junkies and Mike Donahue, meeting baby Roberts, Blanks all over the course taking pictures, Phil's granola, Tommy's trick to get me to wait for his burger, Sam stealing my Life Saver's and giving them to the kids, running back for Wade with Andrew and seeing Marshall out there with him, even Jeremy's little quip that I'm "Little Miss Efficiency",  there was so much more to this weekend then the run. And I decided that if I have to run through the collective suffering of a 34 mile race to get the rest of the experience than I guess that's what I'll do...besides I'd like to think there's an even faster time at the Promise Land somewhere in me.

Top Ten Patagonia bag, race shirt and finisher's shorts.

-Alexis

Terrapin Mountain 50k Race Report: Alexis

Terrapin 50k
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Big Island, Virginia

The past few weeks have had me simultaneously nursing a puzzling injury and trying not to entirely lose the base I've worked so hard to build over the first part of the year. Monday I was reading Sophie Speidel's blog and was making mental notes on how to race Terrapin, an event that has eluded me the past two years. However, Wednesday evening's run had me so down and out when the calf started up a mile in that I was back to just hoping to finish Terrapin. With two weeks off following Holiday Lake followed by four weeks of barely running, my training consisted of a handful of Wednesday and Saturday trail runs with a Tuesday or Thursday thrown in for good measure. My 'training' was only about pulling through my injury and I decided, after Wednesday's confidence beating run, that I was training through Terrapin. My goals were simple; to finish but listen to my body and maintain any pain within the 'run through' limits.

Friday I was a little out of sorts. I wasn't nervous like usual with the usual questions, who would beat me, how strong a field is it going to be? I was so worried that the pain in my calf would make it difficult to finish. I was literally wallowing in some of the lowest amounts of self-esteem I can remember. Then I happened across Jennifer Nichols status update on Facebook, she had posted a quote "The body achieves what the mind believes." I instantly knew there was truth, yet challenge, in that statement. How could I perform whatsoever at Terrapin if I didn't even believe that I could? Remember what you told yourself earlier this year Alexis, tell yourself what can be and make it happen.

Saturday morning saw me quite calm. I wasn't worried any longer. I had a simple plan but vowed to even throw it out at any time the day suggested. Once again we were late in arriving but we were able to say a few quick hellos to friends. I ate one Strawberry Banana GU, two Pepto Bismol, two Electrolyte tablets and a few Vitamin I as I waited for the start.

Before Holiday Lake, after I had cheerfully spread the news about Dennis offering to crew me, my sister had texted me, "Why have you never asked me to crew you?" I laughed, I smiled. Honestly, I didn't think she would want to, but I called her up and made plans for Terrapin. I told her she could only crew at Goff mountain AS unless she was willing to hike up to Camping Gap. She said she was up for it and we made plans for her to come out, cheer for me and crew me. I had completely forgotten however about the creek crossing on the way to Camping Gap something Todd told her about minutes before the start, in my defense I had given her an out when I called her the day before, doing my best to scare her away with claims of cold temps and steep ascents, but we both knew I wanted her there. Sometimes my family can seem a little disconnected from what I do and it was nice to have her familiar face out there and also be able to share a glimpse of ultra running with her.

I had decided because I was 'training through' Terrapin to leave my Garmin at home. Todd was even surprised by this, "you don't want to look at your splits later?" he'd asked. Knowing myself well I knew I wouldn't be able to hold with my plan of not racing wearing it, I did however have on my simple Ironman Timex watch so that I could keep some track of time.

I knew from training runs over the past few weeks that my calf is worse the first few miles of every run and when I try to push my pace. I knew I would need to take it very conservatively those first few miles Saturday morning or end up suffering the whole day, and possibly not even finish. Run smart, listen to your body I reminded myself at the start line.

Running from the Sedalia Center I started in the far back of the pack, but as we got on the road I would start talking to people and just fall into their pace. As we turned onto Reed Creek Road I was talking to Brenton Swyers and Andrew Charron, we were joking about my love for hills when my calf started to question what I was doing. I would have liked nothing more than to run up to Camping Gap with them but I had to listen to my leg. I bid them farewell and took to walking. And I walked and walked and was passed by droves of runners, this is usually quite difficult for me, so I reminded myself that it was important to let the leg warm up. I turned on my iPod and settled into the best hike pace I could. Fortunately, a great deal of my training over the past few weeks has been hiking, something I've always been quite poor at, I was happy to see that my hike felt comfortable but productive.

I had given myself an hour to Camping Gap. In life, I am a deadlines or distractions type, if I don't have a time goal, no matter how arbitrary, I can get incredibly unfocused. I set about doing what felt the most comfortable, not looking at my watch, and just hoping that it would be about an hour. I took a second GU and drank water. Then, shortly after the GU, my leg told me I could run again. It was awesome, it felt so good. I started to run and I was passing all of these people who were walking, which I took as a reminder to keep erring on the side of caution. At one point I passed my friend Freda who was doing the half, she said she thought I was long gone and I told her I needed to start slow (because of my calf). Someone up ahead turned and said "Sophie?" "No," I responded, "but thanks for the compliment." I was feeling stronger and stronger the farther we went and was gaining confidence in my plan.

I made it to Camping Gap the first time in 56:33, I was quite pleased. I filled up my water bottle at the aid station and headed off into the back loop, the part of the course I had not run other than the parts that are in Hellgate. Again, remembering Sophie's blog, I took the five mile descent very easy, several people passed me but I didn't let that bother me.

This section, while downhill, was very monotonous and near the bottom, where it levels out I started to get burnt out on all the road running. Then I had a wardrobe malfunction, my GU that I usually sandwich between two sports bras kept falling out and I would have to stop and pick them up. I ended up having to stick them in the first bra, pressed against my skin, this wasn't very comfortable. I'm going to need to plan something else for future long runs and races. I hadn't run on roads since Holiday Lake, it is not my favorite thing, and I started to get a little mentally bogged down here.

When we got to the turn on Goff Mountain I was thankful, in a way, that we were about to start climbing. I thought I saw Jeff Martin ahead, I ran and walked to catch up with him, we ran a short ways together and I ran on but with the burnout a little less after a quick chat with a friend. Then up ahead, I thought I saw Brenton and Andrew, this definitely raised my spirits and I ran and hiked at intervals to slowly catch up with them. When Andrew caught sight of me he said "Nooooooo" while I simultaneously cheered "I looooove hillllllllls!" I ran with them a ways before pushing on. I had just started walking again when I saw Blake and Kevin up ahead.

Usually, at races, I never get to talk with people, I'm all 'head down on a mission' so to speak. Saturday I enjoyed the brief conversations with friends as much as anything else. Blake had fallen just as he had started the descent down Hunting Creek Road and was pretty banged up. I felt bad that such an unforeseen moment could quickly change the kind of day you were having. I used this as a reminder to be thankful for each relatively pain-free moment. Blake had news of Todd, he said he'd passed Blake's mom getting onto the single track about 41st place and looking good. Blake and Kevin were about 110th when they'd passed by his mom a few minutes later.

Thrilled that we were on single track I ran on up ahead, this section was quite runnable. I hiked a few uphills and took some of the steep switchbacks carefully but overall really began to enjoy myself, the first time all day. Coming out of the single track I passed a huge group that had been crowded together on the trail now all stopped at the aid station, I took this opportunity to gain another dozen spots. I'll  be honest, there were a couple times throughout the day, like at this moment, that is was really very hard not to be racing.

I settled back into intervals split between hiking and running. I had given myself the arbitrary time of two hours to do this back section but my lack of running uphill over the past six weeks made that a challenge. I did mourn the race that could have been slightly and settled into running the best that I could for the day. After a mile or so of uphill I saw Grattan Garbee up ahead, his tie-dye compression sleeves gave him away. He was running and hiking the hill same as me and it took a few minutes to catch up with him, at one sharp switchback he looked back at me and I gave him a mischievous wave to suggest I was coming for him. We ran a few minutes together, he said he was glad to see I was running smart and he said he was feeling really good himself.

Near the top I realized I wasn't going to run this section in two hours but it would be close and that wasn't too bad for some arbitrary goal I had set, not knowing what to expect from my leg or lack of earnest training. The top of Hunting Creek Road was steep and as I climbed I ate another GU and two more Electrolyte tablets. I reached Camping Gap the second time in 2:59. My sister ran over and swapped bottles with me and handed me two GU, she seemed a bit frazzled and cold and I felt bad that she would only see me a minute or two the entire day but was glad she was there. She said I was tenth female which delighted me as I felt that I had been running very smart and comfortable. I passed by Horton in his truck who asked how I was doing, he'd seen me at the start and I had told him I was just training through Terrapin which I sensed disappointed him. I told him my sister thought I was tenth and I was pretty content with that. I wondered if that too was a disappointment but didn't take it to heart, just ran on through and into the WHOR loop.

On Thursday the WHOR loop had seemed so difficult as we had marked the course, it was yet another confidence depleting run. However, on Saturday as I crossed paths with the front runners and was feeling warmed up and comfortable it didn't seem nearly as bad. I kept waiting for the calves to tighten and rebel on the climbs but they never did. Now this is by no means to say that I ran the whole thing, I walked a great deal of this loop but I also ran more than I thought I might which wasn't too bad. I started to feel that I was running really smart for me, I was feeling great and with no real pressure was actually having a good time. Then I passed another female, which excuse me for this, always feels nice.

I had to wait in a short line to punch my bib at the top of the WHOR loop and I laughed inside, good thing I'm not racing today and then cruised down the other side. I passed only one runner on the downhill, I was taking this section conservatively because I feared the trail was possibly slick after slipping on Thursday. Approaching the bottom of the loop I saw Brenton, "Your hubby's only eight minutes ahead of you." This too excited me, I wasn't hopeful that he was having a bad day only that my day was going better than I had originally planned.

Running back to Camping Gap I felt amazing. My legs felt good, I still had a good deal of energy and I was excited about the prospect of having a better than planned day. I passed runners going into the WHOR loop, cheering them on and saying hello to my friends. Their encouraging words in response only drove me on harder, it was seriously the highlight of my day. Funny, I'd really dreaded the WHOR loop, hadn't even given myself a time goal because I didn't want to be disappointed and it turned out to be a pretty good section of the day.

I came back into Camping Gap at 3:58, I had run the WHOR loop in 59 minutes, I was quite pleased. I stopped to swap bottles with my sister and grab a few more GU. I talked to Blanks Blankenship who ran up the trail to take my picture. I was leaving when an AS worker said "Great job, you look really fresh." I said thank you to the person and acknowledged inwardly that I felt really fresh. Just up ahead I saw Phil Layman and Jenny Nichols. This surprised me, I would never have thought that I would catch up with Jenny or Phil. After a quick hello they pulled ahead on the climb to summit Terrapin. I slowed, remembering what I had read, climb Terrapin smooth and relaxed. I ate a GU, two Electrolyte tablets and three Tums. I drank water and focused on not letting the heart stress about the climb. Before long we were at the summit, punching our bibs and on our way to Fat Man's Misery.

Photo courtesy Blanks Blankenship

Jenny let me pass on the downhill, she said she wasn't as strong on the downhill. I usually am not, especially this particular section, but I was feeling really good. Phil stayed behind me until Fat Man's Misery where he got to witness me literally fall into the crevice between the two boulders that make up this obstacle on the course.  Ouch! Both my elbows and my bottom felt that. I was a little disoriented coming out the other side and was thankful another runner was just through the other side and reminded us to punch our bibs.

In the Rock Garden I encouraged Phil to pass me but I tried to stay with him as best I could. I ran this section between Fat Man's Misery and the AS at Terrapin Lane as fast as I ever have and even passed one more female along the way. Since the beginning I had been telling myself that if I felt good at Terrapin Lane I would run hard from there to the finish. All day I had seen this as a good option to make up some time and get a little racing in. When I got to the AS there at Terrapin lane I was happy to see Dennis Coan and Charlie Peele. I handed my hat and gloves off to Dennis and asked for salt tablets. Dennis said he had some in his car but I told him that wasn't necessary. A volunteer offered me salted popcorn instead, I took a big handful and asked about Todd as I headed out. "He's fifteen minutes ahead of you," Dennis said. Knowing I would never catch him I headed on in the hopes of running a strong finish.

Two bites of popcorn later and I immediately started to have the sensation that worms were travelling through my right calf, my injured, listen closely to me, calf. With no electrolyte tablets left and not wanting to ruin what had become a pretty good day I decided, on the slow uphill climb back to the Terrapin Ridge trail that I needed to take it easy and avoid cramping. Despite how the rest of me felt, which was pretty good, I couldn't risk cramping. I walked the uphill back from the AS and then some of the turn once I was on the single track trail. I was a little disheartened. I felt so good but I didn't know why I had just experienced that strange calf sensation and I just couldn't risk it, especially when I was supposed to be 'training through' Terrapin.

Then I realized something even more foolish. Despite what must have been my longest stop of the day at the AS at Terrapin lane I hadn't filled my water bottle up. It only had a few ounces left in it. I was feeling nervous, really hoping to keep the cramps at bay. Shortly after I had another wave of cramps so I ended up eating another GU, my ninth for the day, only about 20 minutes after my last one and drank the rest of the water in my bottle. Fearing I still had a few miles left and with the sun warming up for the day I stopped and filled my water bottle at a stream crossing. It tasted fine though so I nursed it as I weaved in and out on this section of winding trail. I looked back at one point and saw no one behind me, I really wanted to run this section harder but the cramps had me scared. I didn't enjoy this section, usually one of my favorites, as much as I would have liked because of the fear of the unknown and cramping.

When I saw Reed Creek I was very excited, I hadn't had any cramps for a few minutes and figured I had less than two miles left. I ran the downhill section well if not slightly fast. When I arrived at the turn off of Reed Creek road however, I could feel the lack of speed training and road running over the past month and a half on the mostly flat section. I also had a twinge of cramping on the road so I ran easy due to that as well. When I passed Todd less than quarter mile to the finish he reached for my water bottle, just then the Mountain Goats came on my iPod. I smiled a great big smile. Fearing further cramping if I tried to sprint in the finish I took it easy and coasted across the finish line in 5:39.

Overall for my current level of training, which has consisted of an average pace of over 11 minute miles, I feel I had a very good day on Saturday. I would have liked very much to not have muscle cramps the last few miles but even despite this I feel I ran a very smart and conservative race. I didn't surge at any time during the day, I carried out what fueling plans I had made and I listened to my body, backing off when there was pain or cramping. Even though I didn't push it per se, Terrapin is still a really tough course. My body was sore afterwards and my elbow tender and bruised.

I ended up finishing 50th overall and there is a part of me that wonders how I would have done if I'd been strong and healthy this past month, able to train efficiently and race well. Or if I'd been able to keep cramps completely at bay. At the same time, I finished well enough that I wonder how much better I would have even ran if better trained. My goal in January had been to run Terrapin in sub 5:30, I was only 9 minutes off of that time. Oh well, maybe next year.

Very thankful for all the friends I have met through ultra running, and their encouragement and support. It is always fun to see friends out on the race course. I am very thankful my sister was out there on Saturday, she isn't sold on ultra running but I think it may have opened her eyes a little to what we do, though her opinion that we are in fact crazy may have only become more etched in her mind. And of course, a big thank you to the Aid Station for letting me be a part of their running team this year.

-Alexis