RACE REPORT: RUNNING WITH THE DEVIL NJ TRAIL SERIES

Running with the Devil is race put on by NJ Trail Series and one of my favorite. The race setting is Mountain Creek Ski Resort in Vernon, NJ. It's a 3 mile loop. 1.5 miles up and 1.5 miles down. Roughly 1,100ft of equal gain and loss per loop. There is also a smaller (and steeper) .5 mile loop that opens only in the last 30 minutes of your race. Runners have the option of 1 loop, 3hr, 6hr and 12hr.....of pain. 

I ran this race last year opting for 6hrs. I completed 6 big loops and 3 small loops. Good enough for 3rd place female. But I always regretted not going for that 7th loop. I was tight on time erred on the side of caution and waited. Played it safe. That 7th loop was my Devil and he got the best of me. He haunted me all year. 

As I gear up for VT100, I decided to go all in this year and signed up for 12hrs. 

My first goal: do better than last year (completing 7 loops under 6 hours). Second goal: 10 loops total. Anything more than that was bonus.

* * *

A few of the 12 hours bunch. Happy. We hadn't started running yet.

When I woke up Sunday morning and took those first steps this morning I was quickly reminded of Saturday and my date with the Devil. The first thing that came to mind:

Never underestimate what you are a capable of achieving. And have faith in your training.

The start of a 12 hour race. The most lack luster start to a race ever. The start is a 1,100 ft climb. Duh. We walk. Head down and slow and steady. Every step forward is progress no matter how slow. Good mantra for the day. If you are standing still you aren't moving forward. The pain won't last forever. Just keep moving. Yup.

Tall grass waist high. Ugh. Wonder what awesome bug bites and strange NJ plant reaction I'll have? Feet soaked already? Damn morning dew! Great. 12 hours of soaked feet. I have extra shoes but no point in changing to get another pair soaked. Ok, head down. Don't look up, one step at a time. Just a giant stair master. 12 hours of this???? Am I insane? Yes, I am insane. You got this. Just take your time. Slow and steady you are going to be out here all day.

Ah! The top! Foggy can't see the views. Ski lift, too bad it wasn't on. Left turn and down I go!!! This is the fun part! 1.5 miles down down down I go! Gah slippery and little muddy. Trust your shoes. Probably should make them a little tighter. Weaving back and forth. Oh this is kinda like skiing, you know, but without skis. First loop done! Yes!!!

Ski lodge is a good place to set up camp. But the beer taps don't work. Yes, ski lodge was part of the loop. Pickles. Pickle juice. Do not cramp. Keep taking salt and eating. Half Gatorade half water. Sweating like a pig. Do pigs sweat? Don't linger. Get in get out. Keep loops under 1 hour. All. Day. Long. Slow and steady.

I see my friend Eryn!!!! She's doing the 1 loop option.  Other racers are starting to show up. More people out on the course. If I hurry up I might catch Rebecca before she starts her race. Gotta get moving.

Head down, slow and steady. Keep moving forward. 

Here we go again. Up. Down.

Another loop done. Oh! Rebecca, my VT pacer! Oh boy! Yeah!  I may have "suggested" she sign up for 3hr. Just might have. Didn't give you much to go on before you signed up. Sorry not sorry?

Quick pic while you both still like me. 

Much is a blur. I know I was running. Well, hiking. Then panda-rolling down. Ha! Stay vertical. Stay in control. Hydrate. Eat. Don't linger.

Oh look! Unicorn confetti!!! Rebecca was here! I loved it. Thank you. Constant reminders of my tribe. Running is NOT and individual sport. Far from it. It takes a tribe.

Six loops done. I know this feeling. I've been here before. Wow! Ahead of schedule. Loop 7 here I come! Up and down. Check watch. Just my regular watch. Garmin won't hold charge that long. What??? 11:40am? I finished loop 7 with 20 minutes to spare! This mountain is my bitch! Wait. I gotta do this for 6 more hours?? Who's the bitch now?

6 hours to do 3 more loops. I've got it. 30 miles. That's what I came to do. Head down. Don't look up. Stay present. One step at a time. Forward progress no matter how slow. 

Keep checking computer with standings. Yup. Still in second place. Elaine is out in front of me. She's a beast. Wonder when she'll lap me? Stay focused. I have to pee. Ugh. I don't want to pee. Don't want to sit. That's bad. Wonder what color my pee is?? Am I hydrating enough? Ugh. I'll pee. Don't look! I looked. That's not the right color. More Gatorade, stat!

Keep moving. Slow and steady. I actually feel strong! Is this me? How can I feel this good??? Trust in your training. 

Up. The. Hill. 

Top of the mountain. It's Mirna! Hey Mirna! Great day! Such a rock star. So positive. Can't help but smile when you see her. Yes! Let's take a selfie! Say cheese!

10 loops done!! Well ahead of schedule. Do I stop? I could stop. No. Keep pushing always. Let;s see what these legs can do. Feeling confident. Let's make this an ultra.

Lap 11 done! 33 miles! I still feel great. Strong. Maintaining. I've got time. I can't do math but I know I've got time.

Ok.

Loop 12. My reach goal. Let's do this. Head down. Slow and steady.

First hill breaks you in. 

Second hill tries to break you. 

Third hill laughs at you. 

I declare this my last loop. Bye first hill! Bye second hill! See ya ATV trail! Third hill, buh-bye! Soak in the view. So pretty! Phish playing on my iPod. I can pretend I'm in VT, right? Last downhill. Go go go!

Back in the lodge. Race Director and the 6 hour racers enjoying a beer and laughing. I want a beer. Beer sounds good. "Elaine is out on lap 13," says RD. "You gonna let her just walk into first place?" Ugh. "You've got 72 minutes."

Think think think. 

I achieved everything I came here to do. Why do any more? "Rick, what was my last loop time?" He runs to computer. "52 minutes. You've got 72 left."

Gone! 

People cheering and clapping. 

Fuck. 

Did I just commit to one more loop?

Starting first climb. I can turn around and go back. I could. But I won't. I started. I committed. I'll do it. Head down don't look up. You know what's coming. You've done this 12 times already. Shit. I never got water. Damn it. Too late. Ration. Slow sips. There's water at the top.

Time: 5:07pm top of second climb. Looking good. 13 loops! Yup no small loops. Not gonna do it. Take your time. Don't get hurt. It's muddy and legs are tired. Recipe for injury. It would suck to get hurt. Do I have time to recover if I do before VT? Stop thinking just go.

5:20pm! Top of the mountain! Ahhh water!!! Hallucinations. I think a butler just refilled my water bottle for me. Good thing too because the bottles are moving. Why are the moving? Ugh.

Left turn and down I go!!! Down down down. What time is it? 5:28.pm Small loop opens at 5:30pm. Maybe if I take my time Rick won't guilt me into a small loop. He's good like that.

I'm down. 13 in the bag! Time now 5:36pm. Rick on the bridge. "Nice job Janna. Elaine is out on the small loop." Oh? Here she comes right behind me! Elaine!!! Rick yells "Make her run!" Elaine and I head out on the small loop. She's got first place locked in. I've got second place locked in. Why run more?

Let's take this loop together. Running friends take a loop together after 12 hours on the mountain.

We talked of VT100 (my race). We talked of FatDog120 (her race). Oh look, I ripped my shoes? Hey Elaine, remember when you had to duct tape your shoes before Escarpment? That was the first time we met!

We cross the finish together. First and Second place.
11:47:42 and 11:47:43.
Done.

13 big loops and 1 small loop up and down Mountain Creek ski slope. 

A total of 39.5 miles and  roughly 14,400 ft in elevation gain. Just under 12 hours of running.

I thought about a lot on that run. Lots of personal things. Lots of thoughts about beer and food too.

I thought about that Def Leppard song, "It's all about Believing!" (Yes, I downloaded Def Leppard for this race, don't judge).

On Saturday, I chose to believe.

The Glass Ceiling in Ultra Running

I need to get this off my chest as it has been eating away at me all night. And now, I look at my Newsfeed on FB (no this is not a political rant) and a topic for discussion on a well known and otherwise inspirational women’s running group, Another Mother Runner, threw me over the edge.

I can’t fucking take it.

Last night I attended the Trail Running Film Festival in Brooklyn. It was 12 short films (just about 3 hours worth) about all sorts of trail running stories. This included poems about why we run trails and what we feel when we are out there, stories of our 4 legged running partners, runners who have overcome medical conditions, those chasing FKTs, and personal stories of average, older and elite runners.

One thing stood out to me: the stories that included men as the main focus were about drive, grit, determination, mental toughness, strength. Their stories exposed the pain that we can experience out on the trails, both physical and mental, and how the runner dug deep and pulled that shit out. The inspirational poem was read (and written?) by a man and there was a man featured running while the poem was being read. The FKT was being chased and support by men. The story about overcoming a medical condition (heart transplant) was a man.  The oldest runner story was about a man. The longest short story about pacing featured a man. The most inspirational stories featured men.     

The stories about women were inspirational, yes. I don’t want to downplay any of the accomplishments by any of the women trail runners in the films. The women were all beasts and nothing short of incredible.  But the angle of the films differed so much.

There was the story about a women’s trail running club, the Maroon Belles. I understand the struggles of the mother runner, balancing a full-time job and being a mom and ultra runner. But where was the grit? Where was the mental toughness? Where was the struggle? That raw vulnerability that only trails can expose?  And how being a part of tribe can make a difference? No where. They were laughing, smiling, running a long distance for the first time with what appeared to be no problems what so ever. Perhaps that was not meant to be the story told. But I don’t think the film captured the power of the female tribe. I don’t feel that those who are not part of a female running tribe walked away with the full understanding of its power.   

As a co-leader of a women’s running club, I 100% understand the power of the female running tribe. For example, I was 6 miles in to a 20 mile training run for my first 100K. I was in pain. I wanted to hang up my running shoes forever. Tears and doubt with every step. My running partner gave me space when I needed it. Encouragement when I needed it. She was my rock. I fucking finished that run because of her. And that's just one small sliver of the whole story. In my club, women are accomplishing running feats that they never thought were possible or that even existed. Whether it’s a 5K or ultra.  In the past year, we have had 8 women complete ultra marathons for the first time and several went on to complete more (one woman did 2 in 3 weeks). One woman completed a 50K after DNFing a few months earlier. The inspiration and encouragement, the tears and self doubt….that’s part of our  group 24 hours a day. If you could follow our club for just one day and you will see all the potential that was missed in this film. The film didn’t do the Belles justice. It didn’t do the female tribe justice. It didn’t do the female trail runner justice.

Now let’s talk Jenn Shelton. She is fucking sick ass runner, no doubt about that! Holy shit her times and finishes are just ridiculous. But come on! That was just trail porn and not in a good way. If I had to look at her vagina one more time I would have thrown up my beer and hot dog all over the guys in front of me. Luckily I only puked a little in my mouth when she took her shirt off and I had to look at her “milky white jugs.” That’s the female runner to showcase? She certainly gave me and my girls a few good laughs. But where was the balance? An anomaly in the ultra running community she is. She drinks, she eats like shit, she lives out of her van, swears like a fucking sailor and spits. And still manages to pull first place finishes out of her booty-short wearing ass. Sure, she lives the life this 40 year old mom who sits at a desk all day can only dream about (especially as I was still nursing a hangover on Monday from drinking on Saturday). But where was the balance? Where was the other female ultra runner? Like Van Phan, the 45 year old female ultra runner who currently has 238 finishes on Ultrasignup. We got to follow her in the film about Orcas 100. Now THAT woman I would have liked to hear more about. I would have loved a film that got inside her head.   I wanted to know HER story.

So ladies, we may still be climbing the same mountains as men. But it looks like the glass ceiling in ultra and trail running still remains higher.

So what was the FB discussion thread that threw me over the edge? Whether or not you wear makeup when you run. Come on ladies, we can do better than that! 

Race Report: Boulder Field 100K, September 17, 2016

I had Ultrasignup loaded up on the iPad and ready to go. My friend, Helen, was PMing me on my cell phone. The plan was to press enter at the same time, 50K for her (her second) and the 100K for me (my first).  And just like that we were registered. I had made my plans to attempt my first 100K, which I had been talking about for months, a reality. (I swear, the hardest part of racing is the registering.)

I had completed 3 of Stephan Weiss’s ultra events (Uberendurancesports.com), Blues Cruise 50K, Naked Bavarian 40 miler and Dirty German 50 miler, which were all well established races.  Boulder Field 50K/100K was new addition to Stephan’s race portfolio and I loved the idea of being part of an inaugural event.  Even cooler was the free two nights camping at Hickory Run State Park in White Haven, PA. With a 5am start time for the 100K, I reveled in the idea of being able to just roll out of my tent and be (pretty much) at the starting line.  Helen was totally down with camping too – her first time ever. Yeah! My idea of a great girls’ weekend getaway! Camping and ultra running!!!!

We decided it would be best if I drove as Helen’s family planned on coming up on race day. She would leave shortly after finishing her race to head to see relatives close by.  I certainly had NO INTENTIONS of breaking down the campsite (in the dark) after completing 62 miles. My plan was to lie in the tent with a beer and a book and enjoy one more night in the woods.  Win-win.

I spent all of Friday morning gathering everything I’d need for the race and for camping. I also did some last minute mental training. I watched Western Time about 6 times. It’s about ultra runner Sally McRae’s journey to get to and complete Western States 100, a must-see for any runner of any level. (By the way, Sally is my new girl crush!)

I picked Helen up and we were on our way! Plan was to make it to the park before dark to set up the tent  - we had practiced in my backyard so we had total set up time down to about 5 minutes. We would then meet up with two friends, Brandon and Royce, for a pre-race dinner.

Holy crap! About 1 hour into our ride to PA we almost died! I don’t think that’s an exaggeration either. We were finally out of traffic and cruising along on I-80 when out of nowhere a huge object (not sure what it was) completely smashed the passenger side of my windshield, almost going through it! I can’t even begin to explain what went through my mind! What if it went through? What if I swerved after the impact and collided with another car or the divider? But we were ok. It was just a shattered windshield that could be fixed. It could have been a lot worse.

The rest of the evening went smooth. Brandon and Royce met us at packet pick-up and helped us with the tent so we could get to dinner faster. Great place, Powerhouse Eatery (we were soooo underdressed!), great food, great friends! Definitely helped to turn the mood around for Helen and I after the ride up.

5:00am would be here in no time so off to sleeping bag I was!

I woke up at 3:30 ready to go…..well, sort of like that. I lay in my sleeping bag for about 30 minutes while listening to the orchestra of zippers being opened and closed from the surrounding tents. Finally got dressed, grabbed my bag and headed to the car. Helen woke up (I felt soooo bad) She insisted on walking me out to the car. I swear she was sleepwalking.

The start/finish was pretty much pitch-black, lit by the 50 or so headlamps of the 100K runners who were mulling around and the red numbers of the clock counting down the time to the start in the background. I found my trail friend, Beth, who I met at Dirty German and Brandon. Beth introduced me to her friend Libby. Yeah! Another trail friend! We lined up together at the start, sort of listened to the last minute instructions from Stephan and then 4….3…2…1…we were off! IN THE MOST UNEVENTFUL START TO A RACE EVER!! LOL!!! Yup, not much fanfare at 5:00am in the middle of nowhere. Shit just got real!

The course was set up in a figure eight: a 12 mile loop and a 19 mile loop. The figure eight would be completed once for the 50K and twice for the 100K. You come back to the start/finish in between each loop, so at miles 12, 31 and 43.

The trails were well marked with pink ribbon and reflective ribbons, but in the early stages of a race like that I just followed the other runners. The 12 mile loop was full of short steep climbs. I think this was the more difficult of the two loops. And it had the most beautiful vistas. Along Skyline Trail if you looked left you could see the last bit of the harvest moon shining bright, illuminating the mist in the tree lines and the river that split the mountain in two. Man, those 50Kers don’t know what they were missing! I fell somewhere during that loop and landed on the left knee (the good one). The impact bruised not only my knee but my left forearm and knocked my hat and headlamp off! Certainly I am no stranger to falling on the trails, so I got back up with the help of my friends, brushed myself off, re-adjusted a few things and I was on my way.

Beth, Libby and I stayed together until about the mile 10 aid station. Unless discussed prior, it’s totally ok and expected that you will eventually go your separate ways. The last-ish mile of the 12 mile loop is through a trail called Shades of Death. I would compare this to the Escarpment trail(see prior blog post). Full of roots, rocks, steep drops and steep climbs. This part was actually really fun!

I returned to the start/finish at 7:28am putting my first 12 loop at roughly 2:28. I changed my socks (trying new socks the day of the race is a BAD idea). My fingers resembled that of breakfast sausage links so it took a few minutes to get changed. I grabbed a Mama Chia squeeze and headed out on the 19 mile loop.

Despite being 7 miles longer, it was easier. Lots of flat, well groomed path to really open up and bank some time. But it also had the part of the Boulder Field run that made it Boulder Field. Yup, the boulder field (how did you guess???) The Boulder Field trail leading up the field was the most technical of the course. About 2 miles of jagged rocks along a narrowly cut path through the vegetation. I decided to power walk most of it as I didn’t want to risk a turned ankle or other injury. Right before reaching the field the trail becomes deceivingly nice. About ¼ mile on a pillowy soft pine needle floor.     

The Boulder Field….200 meters across varying size boulders. Some were loose and some were sturdy but you didn’t know which were which. I took my time. Again, rather take a few minutes to be careful then to risk injury that would make the remaining 40 miles either completely miserable or impossible. I found that stepping on the smaller rocks were a better strategy for me. There was an aid station right at the end of the 200 meters. Grabbed some Mountain Dew, a few Girls Scout cookies, some potatoes and salt, and I was on my way.

                                                                                                              

Around mile 26ish, my daughter FaceTimed me. She had a belly ache. “Are you still running, mommy??”  “Yup, I am babydoll and I’m coming up on an aid station, do you want to see it??” The volunteer thought it was funny that my daughter was FaceTiming me in the middle of a race. He said hello to her as he offered me some pierogi and bacon fresh off the griddle! I said good bye to my daughter and thank you to the volunteer and I gone.   

The rest of the 19 mile loop was smooth sailing. There was pavement. Ugh. But it was ok.  Again, great way to bank some time going into the next 50K.  I saw two more friends right before the start/finish. Kim and Bill. Listening to their bodies, they decided to call it at the 12 mile loop.They offered hugs and well wishes (which were much needed). 

I entered the start/finish for the second time at the completion of the 50K at 11:43am. This meant my first 50K was 6:43, the 19 mile loop taking me 4 hours 15 minutes. Quick fill of the CamelBack, another Mama Chia and I was on my way again. 

The second 12 miles loop was tough. The climbs seemed steeper, as did the downhills. And did they move the aid stations further apart?????? I did my best to get through the loop but my legs were tired! Lots of walking on this loop. I knew I could get to 50 miles as I had done it before. So I just kept going. “Keep moving”  “Forward progress.” “Keep fucking moving.”  

At some point Helen texted me that she was done! She had a blast! And she PRd!!! Yeah Helen!!! So happy for her. She was waiting for me at the start/finish. I so wanted to see her and give her a quick sweaty stinky yeti-smelling hug.

At about mile 40 I saw two kids and one had pink ribbons tied around his head like Rambo:

“Dude! Don’t take those pink ribbons down! There’s a race going on. Those are marking the trail. They are our lifeline!” 

“I didn’t, these were on the ground” he responded.

“It doesn’t matter I told him. They would still tell us we are on the right path.”

 “Just keep running and shut up. There are plenty of ribbons” the little shit said to me.

Are you kidding me???? “You are being totally disrespectful” I said to him. “We are out here after months of training not to have you screw it up for us!”

“YOU are being disrespectful,” he said.

Ugh. This was going nowhere. I had a race to run and I had already wasted enough time. Ok, head back in the game, head back in the game.         

         

As I was coming up the road to the start/finish at mile 43 I was met by one of the race volunteers. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this but you didn’t make the time cut off. I’m sorry, I’m going to have to pull you.”

WTF????? How???? How did this happen?? I had banked 47 minutes on the first 50K not including the built-in hour Stephan had allotted for the second 50K in the 16 hour cut off. And what cut off at mile 43??? He said there was a hard cut off at 2:50pm and it was 2:53pm (it had taken me 3 hours and 10 minutes to complete this loop). He repeated how sorry he was but there were to be no exceptions. I dropped to my knees and start crying. This was it. My journey was over. Someone else has decided this was the end of the road for me.

After a few seconds I stood up and said “No! I’m not done! Let me run! Let me go! I came here to finish!” He just kept saying I’m sorry there are to be no exceptions. He and the volunteer who was recording the numbers decided they would try to reach Stephan by cell.  The volunteer who told me I was cut off asked Stephan’s son to get his dad on the phone. He told Stephan that I had missed cut off my 4 minutes. “3 minutes!!” I shouted in the background. He handed the phone to me. “Let me go!! I know I can do this!! Let me finish!!!” I yelled into the phone. Stephan said, ok, but he would be monitoring me closely and I had to reach all the other aid stations in time. “Thank you!!!” And I threw the phone back.

“Helen, they are letting me go!” Helen grabbed my CamelBack which was now empty and went over to the water table. I asked the volunteer to fill it. She said no. WHAT??? She had her hand on a gallon of water. “This is all the water I have left,” she said to me. “But I’m a runner!!!” I yelled. “This is all I have left,” she repeated. I think Helen must have shot her the look of death so the woman put about a mouthful of water into my pack. Fuck it, I had to get out of there and there was another aid station in a few miles. Helen helped me get the bladder back in the pack. I started booking for this last 19 mile loop. I knew I could run most of it but now I was being watched closely. I was not going to get pulled I was going to finish come hell or high water! Helen ran with me across the field shouting “Go Janna!!!” and ringing the cowbell.

Then I was on my own again……

Omg, I had to finish! I had to!!! 19 miles is a long way to run and to run hard, especially with 43 miles already under my belt. But I didn’t have a choice.

As I came up on the part where I passed our campsite I realized that I didn’t have my headlamp! Shit! I could be finishing in the dark and I didn’t have a headlamp! I called Helen and said, “I forgot my headlamp. Get my headlamp to an aid station. I don’t care which one or how you do it. Just get it there!” “I’m on it,” she said and then hung up. After all that and I totally fucked it up for myself.

Then I saw a guy getting stuff out of his car.  Ok, plan B. Always good to have a plan B. “Hi, are you camping and staying tonight too?” I asked. “Yes,” he responded. “Good, I just left the last station and I forgot my headlamp and I’m screwed. Can I borrow yours?”  “Oh, you are one of those 100K people. Sure.”  After searching his car he found it and gave it to me. “Hi. I’m Janna. I’m in the big white tent. Can’t miss it.”  “Hi, I’m Jim.” I thanked him and left.

Over the next 2 miles I would pass 3 men. They too could not believe the cut off. They barely made it and had a 6:15 50K they said. No time to chat. I’m on a mission. I was gone.

(Sometime after that Helen called saying that she was waiting at the Boulder Field aid station with my headlamp. Phew.)

Right before mile 41 I caught up with another female runner who I had remembered seeing earlier. I thought she was well ahead of me. I ran a few miles with her. We talk about the ridiculous cut off. I told her that I actually had missed it by 3 minutes. I asked her if she was ok with them letting me continue on. Of course! She said.  Phew. Didn’t need any more drama. She told me that the 3^rd place female was just a little bit ahead of her. I said I was totally fine with my pace. At this point, I just wanted the finish and was going to run my own race. She gave me some of her water after I told her that I had been without for about 5 miles.

We continued to run together for a little bit. When got to Boulder Field trail she went ahead as she was more daring with navigating the terrain on tired legs.  I quickly lost sight of her. But just a few minutes later I heard voices. It was her and another woman. The 3^rd place female! Holy shit, not only did I pass 3 men, but I caught the 3^rd place female. We all power hiked together up to the Boulder Field. I told her too what happened with the cut off. She then said, “That was you??” Her husband had called her and told her about the RD trying to cut off a runner. Apparently after that scene is when they realized that the cut off should have been 3:50pm and not 2:50pm! UGH!!!!!!!

And this is when I started getting shooting pains in the left knee…the good knee that I fell on earlier. Damn it! The pain was so bad that I thought this was it. I pulled out the knee brace that I had with me just in case my arthritic knee starting giving out and put it on the good knee. I figured I needed to stabilize it to cross the field.

Now all three of us were spread out on the field. Helen was on the other side of the field yelling my name!!! WHOO HOO!!! I was saved!!!  I passed the first girl I had met up with. She said her legs were tired. Now the 3^rd place female remain ahead.  

At the aid station (mile 51) Helen gave me my headlamp, a hug and lots and lots of words of encouragement. She ran a few yards with me out of the parking lot where the aid station was set up until I was back on the trail. I was alone again.

I spent the next 12 miles focused on getting to the finish before sunset (plan A) and before the 9:00pm final cut off (plan B).

At about mile 55 Stephan called me. “Where are you?” Ugh, now what, I thought. “I’m at the intersection of Bear Trail and Fourth Run Trail,” I told him. “Did you get through the field yet?” he asked. “Yes," I said, "I did about an hour or so ago.”  “Oh,” he said. “They didn’t record your number.” FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!! Was I going to be DQd for missing an aid station?? Luckily Helen took pics and video of me at that aid station. I was covered.   

I came up to the final aid station at mile 57 and more stinky hugs for the volunteers. The one remembered my daughter and told me to tell her hello! I ate a pickle, had some Gator Aide and was off. “It’s 5:50pm, you have 5 miles to go, you are going to do it,” he said.   Yes, I am. I was going to do it. And if I kept fucking moving I could do it before sunset.  5 miles in 1 hour. Totally doable.

I was probably about 1.5 miles from the finish and lost sight of the pink ribbons. FUCK!!! Again, did I totally screw up this race? I could see nothing ahead. Did I miss a turn? Damn it!! I turned around and sprinted back to the last pink ribbon I saw. Nope, there it was about .5 miles back indicating to keep going straight. Great, just great. Wasted time. So I sprinted back to regain the ground I had lost. Had I just kept going a few more feet I would have seen the next pink ribbon. 

Then I saw it. The turn onto the dirt road signaling the last mile of the loop. I was done! Holy crap!! I just ran 100K!!! 62 miles!!!! And I was going to finish before dark.

There were very few people left at the start/finish. As I was coming through the parking lot a family got out of their car to cheer me on. I finished!!! There was a Madonna song playing at the finish line but I don’t remember which one. Brandon and Royce were there too!! OMG!! They waited for me! Stinky hugs all around!!!

Then the RD and the 2 volunteers looked at me. “We are soooo sorry” they said pretty much in unison. And another stinky hug, this time for the RD!  “It’s ok,” I said. It actually worked out for the better. Had it not gone down the way it did, I would not have raced that last loop like I did. I would not have passed those three men. I would not have passed that woman. As it turned out, the woman I passed had been the first place female 40-49. I now had won my AG!

My final time was 14:06:19.  If my math is correct, I finished the final 19 mile loop in 4 hours 13 minutes which included the time spent figuring out if I could continue or not. I ran the second 19 mile loop faster than the first 19 mile loop!

From the shatter windshield, to being told I was cut off, to forgetting my headlamp and no water ….all thing that could have mentally derailed me. But they didn’t. I used those events to my advantage.

The windshield….It was just a windshield (that is being replace in my driveway as I type this), could have been worse. I was thankful.

No water….Well, I knew there was another aid station ahead. Just had to suck it up for a few miles. I could do it.

Forgetting my headlamp….With a little help from old and new friends I got that covered.

But the biggest thing I learned about myself that day came when I was told I was cut off….. I learned to not let others decide my fate. I could have easily accepted that my time had come to an end. But I knew what I was capable of doing. I knew I could finish before 9:00pm. I stood up for myself and didn’t back down.  

I would not have changed anything that happened before or during the race because it all came together at the end. It was because of those challenges that I won my AG… that I finished before sunset... that I completed the 100K.  

 

    

         

    

Escarpment Trail Run Race Report July 31, 2016

Amby Burfoot called it the “Boston Marathon of trail runs.” Another runner said, “Escarpment must be experienced to be understood.”

Escarpment trail run is an 18.6 mile point-to-point race which covers the entire Escarpment trail in the Catskill Mountains. This includes total elevation changes of 10,000 feet and climbs the three high peaks: Windham (3,523 ft), Blackhead (3,940 ft), and Stopple Point (3,420 ft). All runners must qualify under one or more of the following criteria:

Anyone who completed the previous year's Escarpment Trail Run in 6 hours or less.

Anyone who completed a half-iron man triathlon competition in 6 hours or less.

Anyone who completed a full iron man triathlon in 13 hours or less.

Anyone who completed a 50 miler in under 10 hours, a 50K under 5 hours, or a marathon under 4:15. Add 1 1/2 hours for a trail race.

This race has been on my Bucket List since I first learned about it through a friend’s husband, who completed the race in 2014 with the impressive time of 4:55:05. My previous Half Ironman times (Newfound Lake, NH and Syracuse, NY) were both well out of date and also fell short of qualifying so I was definitely out of the running for 2015. I figured someday I would qualify. Who knew that “someday” was going to be May 15, 2016. I completed the Dirty German 50 miler in 10:03:35 (which included a 1 mile wrong turn). This was well under the 11:30:00 qualifying time but it was also neither a technical nor a hilly course and included several miles of pavement where I could make up time. Not knowing if I would ever qualify again, I decided to fill out the form and mail it in with a SASE, the old fashion way, which Race Director Dick Vincent requires, and then wait to hear back if I was accepted. It felt a bit like waiting to hear if I got into college as I rushed directly to the mailbox when I got home from work wondering if the envelope would be there. Once my SASE arrived with the registration code (which expires within 2 weeks of receiving), before I could come to my senses, I registered. $65 + $10 bus fee and I had secured my ticket to hell.

The weather leading up to ETR was less than optimal: long stretches of temps well into the 90’s with heat indexes in the 100’s along with unrelenting humidity. Since I live by the saying “you can’t predict the weather on race day” I trained when I could and as hard as I could when most other sane people probably opted for an indoor treadmill or just a cold beer instead. I didn’t really know what I was in for nor could I replicate the conditions of the ETR anywhere close to home. I relied on my experience at the mid June NJTrail Series race “Running with the Devil” (I opted for the 6 hour timed race where you run up and down Mountain Creek ski slope as many times as you can. I completed 19.5 miles with total elevation of 7,700 ft – close enough –or so I was hoping!) As well as relying on pure time-on-my-feet running.

Thanks to the generosity of an amazing friend, my overnight accommodations were secured and located less than a half hour from the starting line. This offered so much in terms of mental focus. I was relaxed, well fed (yes, I cooked) and well rested.

When I woke at 6:00am on race day, the weather could not have been further from what I had been training in. It was raining and in the 70’s. In fact, it had been that way 2 days leading up to the race assuring that the trails would be muddy and slippery adding to the danger of the already expected treacherous trail conditions. Somehow I had hoped for a miracle and that it would be sunny despite what ALL the weather reports were saying.  After forcing myself to eat my two packets of instant oatmeal, I packed up my gear and drove to the finish line to catch the bus. When I got to the parking lot, runners were mulling around, getting gear bags together, chatting with other runners they knew. I introduced myself to a few runners I recognized from “friended” through FB running group pages. They all looked like pretty serious athletes not only based on the race swag they were wearing, race Euros on their cars, and other gear from their running sponsors but their bodies were machines. What the hell was I doing?

Too late.

The bus ride to the start took 40 minutes which provided 40 minutes to reflect upon who I was, how I got there and why I was running it. With only one of those questions answered (how I got there….I paid the registration fee and drove there) it was time to get off the bus and get my number.

All 242 runners were crammed under 3 tents to keep dry in between trips to the bathroom. Yes, it was still pouring. I must have peed 4 times, maybe it was nerves, maybe it was the 3 cups of coffee and Kombucha I had while waiting for my wave to be called. Start time was 9:00am. Elite men went off exactly and 9:00, elite women at 9:05. Then it was the rest of us in groups of 15 every five minutes. As I was waiting I was talking to a guy who had completed ETR several times. I asked him what advice he would give to this virgin ETR runner. “Everything Dick says about this race is true. Nothing in exaggerated. Save your legs. Just take it as it comes.” There. I had my mantra for the day, “Just take it as it comes." Wave 15 and 16 wer called and I made my way to the starting line. I chatted with a woman behind me, Jill, and found out it was her first time too. After exchanging Ultrasignup percentages learning we were within 2 percentage points of each other we declared ourselves perfectly matched running buddies and decided to stick together for as long as we could. At 10:05am at the sound of the bullhorn, I was off. One way in, one way out.

Still pouring.

The trail was technical right from the start, wet grass giving way to rocks and mud giving way to more rocks, mud and roots. But not just normal rocks and roots. They were protruding lava like rocks and exposed roots that I would have expected to see from the California redwoods. It felt like I was running one of those tire drills you see professional football players doing where you have to step in the hole in the middle of the tire. Except if you fell, instead of falling on bouncy rubber, you would fall on hard rocks and mud (if you were quick enough, you could aim for the moss). This terrain continued on for 3.5ish hellish miles all the way to the top of Windham. I remember passing a sign that said “3500 ft. Elevation.” I turned to Jill and said, “I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean.” Her response, “That we just finished the easy part.”

Still pouring.

The next few miles were rolling hills with short steep climbs and short steep descents. Again the gnarly terrain continued. Sure, there were some nice “clear” spots where I could manage a descent pace, long enough to stretch my legs out a bit but I knew that would not last. I did fall at some point with most of my left hand taking the brunt of my fall. My thumb and pinky were now partially numb and painful and the pad on my hand swollen and already bruised. My dominant hand being limited to the use of the middle three fingers was not going to serve me well considering what was coming up. I had heard about a climbing part around mile 9/10ish that could take as long as 40 minutes to get up. Ugh.

Still pouring.

Yup. As promised, it happened. Near vertical and sometimes vertical climbing, hand over fist, looking for a safe spot to put my hand to pull my body up and over the rocks. A safe and secure place to put my feet to give me the leverage I needed to check and see if the exposed root above my head was attached enough to grab and support my body weight. I never looked behind me or down. Never thought about doing that and I’m glad I never did. “Take it as is comes” is all I thought. In addition, the brim of my hat provided a welcomed obstruction to my view of what lay ahead assuring I continued to “take it as it comes.”

Still pouring.

What goes up must come down. And it the same fashion. This involved continued strategic planning. Looking down at the rock formation to map out the safest way down: jump when I could or sit down and use my arms as leverage to lower my body to a flat spot between rocks. Did you know that Hokas can all be used like ice skates? I felt like a toddler on ice skates for the first time flying into and using the wall to get around the rink. Only that instead of ice it was mud and instead of a wall it was a tree.

Let me pause right here to talk about the race volunteers. There were 7 aid stations along the route with no road access. This meant that all the volunteers had to hike in with gear on their backs (for some locations it heard it was a 2 hour hike): gallons of water, boxes of gels and Fig Newtons, cans of Gatorade Mix, bags of pretzels and potato chips, timing pads, etc. And after hiking it all in, cheering each runner as they came in and treating us like royalty: serving food and drinks, refilling hydration packs and offering words of encouragement. My favorites: “You look fresh!” and "Yeah!! Race skirts!" These race volunteers stood for hours in the pouring rain and then had to pack everything back up and hike it back out! Seriously badass!

“10k to go!” yelled one volunteer as I left one of the aid stations. I looked down at my watch. Almost 4 hours and I’ve only gone 12 miles?! After some quick math I determined I could still get in under the 6 hour time limit but it would be close. But after a dose of reality from surviving several near miss body-breaking falls and a painful twinge in my (good) knee, I pulled out the “Don’t be a hero” mantra and decided that completing this race in one piece was my ultimate goal. After all, it would be worth a few extra seconds to take it slow and smart than going all out animal and having to limp (or drag) my way through the remaining miles. At this point dialed it back and fell behind Jill as I watched her Nathan hydration pack fade away.  

Still pouring.

The rest of the course was a combination of all the evils this trail could conjure up and then some. The continuous rain made the smooth rocks slippery going up and going down. The mud made it hard to find traction even with the best of shoes. Given the rainy conditions, the clouds did obscure the beautiful vistas but that’s probably a good thing as looking down 3,900 feet from the narrow ledges probably would have messed with my head. Better I not know.

Still pouring.

I did pass people and was passed as well. After brief labored-breathing words of encouragement were uttered it was time to move on. “Good job!” “You look strong!” “To think we paid for this!” “Think of the cold beer at the end!” were some of the more common motivational phrases. Either way, the company was welcomed on this course so I was rarely ever totally alone.

As I watched the tenths (and even hundredths) of a mile go by painfully slow, I kept my focus on that sub 6 finish. “It’s mine to lose” I kept saying. I wanted so badly to open it up, go full throttle. But it wasn’t happening. The terrain (and my brain) just would not let me.

Still pouring.

I looked down at my watch, the face blurred by raindrops, and saw my elapsed time was now at 5 hours 40 minutes and change. I had twenty minutes to complete the remaining .8 miles (according to my Garmin). Considering my fastest miles hovered around 14 minutes and some miles were over 20 minutes and I didn’t know what was ahead, it was either totally doable or I was doomed. Then I came upon another group of volunteers. They yelled “Good job! Photographer just around the corner!” Wait, what? Photographer? “How much is left?” I asked. “Oh less than a quarter mile.” Could this be right? But my Garmin said .8! Did I cut of the course? Oh shit! I was going to get DQ’d! How the hell did I let this happen??? Screw it, too late now. I prayed my Garmin was off and with the renewed energy of an approaching finish line, I turn the corner…….to reveal another vertical rock formation that I had to scale down. Yup, the photographer was at the bottom guaranteeing to either document your greatest descent or epic fall.

Still pouring.

With a brief smile and nod, I thanked the photographer and was on my way. Within a few more steps could hear music and the yelling and chatter of a finish line. Could it be true? This was over? Hell yeah it was!!! I sprinted like hell toward those bright red numbers and heard my name announced as I crossed the final timing pad. I was done!!! I had conquered the Escarpment trail and in under 6 hours! 5:43:26 was my final time!

You can read race reports and watch GoPro footage, but it’s true that the only way to really understand what it’s like is to experience it yourself.  I loved every muddy, rooty, rocky inch of that run. I surprised myself mentally and physically. A cool head and a plan to “take it as it comes” was the best strategy for me.

My friend and badass running partner-in-crime gave me a book to read called “Deep Survival” by Laurence Gonzales which is about why some people make it out alive and others die and what separates the two. The part of the book that I took with me to this race was about how young children (under 8) have a better survival rate than adults. Why? Because they are focused on basic survival needs. They listen to their bodies and react accordingly. And that’s what I did. I focused on the here and now and it worked. With a sub 6 finish, I guaranteed that I could be back next year. And I will!

There are thousands of runner blogs out there, why would you want to read mine? Well, because I'm just like you. I'm a mother and a wife. I work full-time outside the house and I am also a piano teacher. 

When I run, I run for fun.

I'm not looking for anything called an FKT. Just trying to avoid a DNF.  (But I should add that I never want to see a DNS.) 

For the most part I'm in middle of the packer (can I stretch it to say I’m a front of the middle of the pack?). But when it comes to ultra running I'm at the back of the pack. Waaaay back.  Pretty safe to say that I'll probably never have a sponsorship. On second thought, it might not be a bad idea. Considering the glacial pace at which I run, it'll give spectators and other runners plenty of time to read any kind of marketing pitch that a big sponsor would like to write on my shirt on wear on my feet. (Hey Hoka One One, if you're reading this I take a size 7.)

I’m definitely not new to running as I've been pounding the pavement and dirt since I was junior in HS....so that would make…. gulp 24 years.  With my head down and knuckles dragging, I did what any self-respecting varsity soccer -reject would do:  I joined my HS cross country team.  In retrospect, that probably wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to me. If you look at Athlinks (which becomes “ass links” if you are using a dictation app) it'll show 60 of my races. I thought that was a lot until I did the math. Totally need to up my game!

But how did I get in to ultra running? I blame my tribe of running friends (and their friends). It totally sucks to be part of such a supportive, motivational yet co-dependent group of athletes. Having people around to constantly remind you that you can achieve anything you put your mind to is such a drag. That’s what happened the day I decided to train for my first 50K.  

I was sitting zombie-like on the train on a Friday afternoon scrolling through Facebook. A fellow running tribe member had just finished another full Ironman and I stared longingly at her finisher pictures.  “What the hell is wrong with me?" I thought. “I need to get out there and do something I haven’t done yet.”  I messaged a friend and asked if he thought I could train and complete at 50K one month from now. “Sure you can! Why not?” he said. Why not? Having bonked HARD at my last marathon 2 years prior and swearing that distance off forever (for the 3^rd time) I was pretty sure he was just telling me what I wanted to hear – that’s why not! But, I figured I had nothing to lose. I’d start training and see how it went. If I was doing ok then I would actually register for the race. Registering is the hardest part. That’s definite, actual, ironclad, tangible, hard proof that you mean to do it. Don’t even get me started about putting it on Facebook! Gah!!!!

I trained, I ran, I finished AND IT WAS AWESOME!!! And now I want more!! 

    

I’m still a newbie to all this and I’ve got a lot to learn. So stick around, you (and I) might learn something.