Flint Hills 40 Mile May 2014

So, for some reason I've put off writing this race report.  Usually I'm very excited to share my story regardless of the race being great or awful.  Even if I don't write it up in detail on the blog, I at least share with friends on Facebook or in one of my running groups.  The race was different.  Maybe it's because it's my first ultra, and that's kind of special.  Maybe I'm afraid my description won't adequately transport you into my race experience.  Maybe it is because the race was really tough.  Maybe it's because the outcome wasn't quite as I'd hoped.  Maybe it's just because writing the report means the experience is really and truly complete.  I'm not sure.  It has taken me multiple attempts over a week to finally get this written.  But here is what I can recall to the best of my ability.  Keep in mind that everything you read is my personal recollections that are colored by exhaustion and emotion.

May 31 was forecast to be about 85F with high humidity and a 30% chance of thunderstorms.  Usually, this wouldn't phase me, but since this was nearly identical to the forecast before the Garmin marathon 5 weeks ago, I was a bit nervous because miles 3-10 of that race were run in severe thunderstorms complete with HAIL!!  In order to ward off the storms, I started planning for rain.  Carrying emergency rain ponchos, bringing extra dry clothes, and having multiple pairs of dry socks and shoes were all part of my plan.  I was determined that I would NOT be wet for 40 miles.  Turns out, I was drenched for about 39 miles.  The difference is that I was drenched due to soupy, steamy, sweaty weather instead of cooling rains.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.   In this story, I'm not even awake and out of bed...

The evening before the race, Beth and I traveled 30 minutes to Ottawa to the race location to pick up our packets, leave my drop bag, and attend the pre-race briefing.  (In other strange news, the race start location is approximately 4 blocks from where I lived in the late 80's.  Weird small world that I live in...)  It was comforting to know that the important highlights of the race details I had read thoroughly--twice--in the incredibly detailed 18 page race manual, were all reiterated by the RD.  Nothing new or surprising which was comforting.  Not many things were feeling comfortable at that time.  The longest distance I'd ever ran at that point was 26.2 miles.  5 weeks ago.  Beth asked if I was freaking out.  Ummm...YES!!!  Why did I think this was a good idea?  We drove home and decided to meet up at 4:45am to travel to the start.

Once I got the race bib, suddenly things felt very, very real...

I couldn't think of anything that sounded good for dinner when I got home.  The pre-race dinner of grilled chicken with whole wheat pasta, browned butter sauce, and freshly grated parmesan cheese that I had planned had sounded so good at lunch that I ate it early while I was packing my gear into my race pack, drop bag, and post-race bag.  The only thing that sounded good was a burrito bowl from Chipotle.   I was totally willing to make the 25 minute drive to the nearest Chipotle for my steak burrito bowl with brown rice, black beans, green tomatilla salsa, corn salsa, and sour cream.  YUM!!

I made it back home fairly late in the evening and had time to finish packing the last of the items on my list--yes, I have a premade race list that is computerized and saved by type of race that I'm running.  Since this was my first ultra, I wasn't 100% sure about my list, but I was pretty sure I was overprepared and overpacking.  I also laid out all the ingredients and dishes for my 4am coffee and oatmeal breakfast.
About 10pm, I actually crawled into bed.  Since I usually don't sleep well the night before a race, I try to make sure I'm well rested during the week before.  Unfortunately my asthma had been progressively worsening throughout the spring, and I ended up on prednisone for the 9 days leading up to the race.  Joy.  Sleep had been elusive for days.  Strangely enough, I was actually pretty calm and was able to fall asleep about 11pm and remain asleep for most of the short night.

4am.  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  Ugh!  But I jumped straight out of bed, hit the off switch on the alarm, and headed straight to the kitchen to warm up the Keurig.  Coffee was a must for this early morning, but it needed time to get in and out of my system before the 6am race start.  I got dressed in the clothes I had laid out, drank my coffee, prepared my oatmeal, etc.  By 4:45, I was almost ready to go.  We got the last of the gear and headed to pick up Beth.  The trip to the race start was uneventful.  We arrived at the race start about 5:30am and got checked in.  Thankfully there wasn't much time to have to wait since there would be a final pre-race briefing at 5:45.  Last bathroom stops, double checking of hydration pack, etc. and it was time to get lined up.

Just before 6am, we were all lined up and ready to hit the trail.  At 6am sharp, Eric counted us down and sent us on our way.  It's really happening.  I'm running my first ultra!

We made our way out of the fairgrounds and onto the Prairie Spirit Trail that runs through Ottawa.  In town, the trail is paved which isn't my first choice of surface, but it was only for about 2 miles.  The course ran directly behind the old middle school building where I went to school for three years.  The trail didn't exist then, and even if it had, I never, ever considered that I would run any kind of race much less an ultramarathon.  I didn't even know ultramarathons existed back then.

A few blocks further through town, we took a right turn and headed toward the levee.  A short climb to the top of the levee yielded a nice gravel surface and better views.

The crowd had started to spread a bit by this point, but we were running strong.  Keeping our planned pace and feeling good.  We knew the first aid station should be coming soon.  It was nice to slow down for a minute and grab a few salty chips.  Pringles always taste better during a run than any other time!  We considered a stop at the porta-potty "just in case", but apparently several other people were also becoming aware of their morning coffee consumption.  We decided we could wait a while longer and if necessary, we had trees along the trail.  We headed out again feeling good and running strong.

Aid station 2 seemed to come pretty quickly.  We stopped and took care of our needs and headed on toward Rantoul where we would meet up with Tony and our drop bags.

One unmanned water station was available about 9 miles in.  I didn't realize how much I had been drinking, so we ran on past.  About 1/4 mile later, I realized this was a mistake since my hydration pack ran dry.  OOPS!  Well, it was only going to be about 3 more miles before a full aid station would appear.  About this time, I became aware that my "mostly healed" blister from the Garmin marathon was becoming a problem despite my moleskin and other preventative measures.  It wasn't painful yet, but I was pretty aware of it.  Well, nothing to do but plod on to Rantoul!

I started feeling more comfortable as we approached Rantoul since this section of the Flint Hills Trail is one that I run frequently.  When we arrived at the crew station, it was bustling with activity.

It was great to see Tony there ready with our supplies.  We filled hydration packs, got snacks, used the porta-potty, and checked my blisters.  Fresh wrappings were in order, but I thought that would fix the issue.

I spared you the photo of the actual blister...yes, there is photographic proof, and it isn't pretty...

We headed out of Rantoul feeling refreshed and ready to head to the turn-around.  We weren't moving quite as fast as we'd hoped, but we were still well ahead of the cutoffs.  Running through "our" section of the trail felt good.  We knew all the landmarks, our approximate mileage, etc., and this section of the trail is absolutely beautiful.  After running past the airplane graveyard, the trail goes through a large farm field and then enters the woods again. Mostly shaded by large trees, the trail winds along beside the river for several miles.

We made it to the turn around on the edge of Osawatomie with more than an hour to spare on the cutoff.  The aid station crew was awesome!  They welcomed us in, offered us anything we needed and chatted with us to bolster our spirits.  We arrived about the same time as the pair in front of us and found out that we were not last.  In order to make sure that the unmanned water station on the way back was not removed before we came through, we were asked to add a zip tie to the water jugs to mark our progress when we passed back through.  We were happy to comply although I was afraid I would forget, so I held it in my hand for the 1.5 miles back.  We added our zip tie and continued on.  About one more mile down the road, I started realizing that I didn't feel right and my hands were starting to swell.  This continued for several miles.  We took more frequent walk breaks and just kept moving on.  About a mile before the Rantoul aid station, I started feeling a little better and actually needed to pee which was a very good sign since I knew my body was retaining too much fluid.

Just before Rantoul, we saw a woman off in the distance standing near the trail entrance.  As we got closer, we began to realize that it looked like Beth's mom.  And as we approached her, we realized it really was Beth's mom!  It was so great to see a friendly face.  There's nothing quite like a mom to keep you going and encourage you--even if it isn't your own mom.  Thanks, Beverly!!  We made our way over to the aid station where I knew a change of shoes and socks was going to be essential.  Severe blisters had formed on both heels and on my fourth toes on each foot.  I switched to a pair of Injinji socks to protect the toes and reapplied padding to the other spots as well as I could.  I changed to my pair of shoes that usually feel slightly big, but at that moment, they felt AMAZING!!  They provided welcome relief to the spots that had been rubbing in my other shoes.  While we were refueling and rehydrating, Di came into the aid station.  We had already discussed the need to walk quite a bit of the last 13 miles, so when she asked if we wanted to join her in walking, we agreed.  Di is entertaining and very positive, so we enjoyed the idea of continuing on with her.

As we continued on down the trail, it was fun to have someone new to talk to.  We continued on with Di to the next unmanned water station.  She wanted to take a short break, but we were feeling okay and wanted to continue on, so we parted ways with a little over 9 miles to go.  At this point, Beth and I were in uncharted territory as far as mileage.  She had completed one 50k race in the past, and my longest had been a full marathon, so now past 31 miles, we weren't 100% sure what to expect.  Our strategy was to keep putting one foot in front of the other and continue at whatever pace was possible until we reach the finish.  Even though I was feeling quite rotten and was quickly realizing that the smart decision would have been to drop at the Rantoul aid station, I've rarely been accused of doing the smart thing when running.  I was too far into this to quit!  I kept visualizing the belt buckle and a 40M sticker to add to my rear window.  Sheer stubbornness was my best asset as I continued on toward the next aid station.  My hands were swelling again and I wasn't feeling the need to pee.  Bad signs.  Every step was agony as my blisters were completely out of control by this point.  Just keep going!!  We hit aids station 2 again which meant we had about 7.5 miles left.


We can DO THIS!!  It may hurt, but we're ahead of the cutoffs and we can keep going.  We refueled, filled our packs, and hit the trail again.  The next 4 miles to the last aid station were sheer misery.  Every section of the trail looked the same, it seemed like we were hardly moving at all, and the aid station seemed like it would never come!  FINALLY, after what felt like hours and hours, we made it to the last aid station.  They were so excited that we were the last runners to be coming through, and we were an hour ahead of the cutoff, so they actually got to pack it up early.  We're happy to help!  ;)

After a few minutes and some fuel, we headed out on the last section of about 3.5 miles.  At this point, it felt like we were moving again.  Just after the aid station, we jumped back on the levee, then down the hill, then onto the access road, then onto First St., then over to Main Street.  Cross Main and it's just a block to Walnut.  Once on Walnut, it's just 4 blocks to the trail.  On the trail at 5th Street, then it's just down to 17th Street and then into the Fairgrounds.  We felt like we were making progress with each step.  (Since we were almost to 39 miles on our feet, we may have coveted the Hover-Round scooter that one elderly lady was driving down the trail.)  Running through the park seemed to give us new hope.  As we ran on, I joked that the hospital was just off to the left if we needed it.  At that moment, we heard the ambulance take off with sirens wailing.  Kidding!!  I was joking about needing the hospital!  Turns out it really was heading to the finish line, but luckily it wasn't for Beth or for me, and the gentleman it was called for turned out to be okay.  As we approached 15th Street, I heard a voice on the speakers at the finish saying, "Our final finishers are in sight!  Let's cheer them on!"  I had been holding it together until that point, but after that announcement, I turned to Beth and said, "They see us!  They announced that we're coming," and I started to cry.  Beth asked if I had anything left to run when we got to the finish, and I took off.  I'm not sure she expected me to start four blocks from the finish, but I was so ready to be done that I didn't care how much it hurt.  As we rounded the corner and entered the finish area, Beth saw her kids, and her husband, and her mom.  And I saw Tony was waiting for me.  We ran faster and faster until we crossed through the finish arch.  It was done!  We were finishers!!  We may have been the last to cross the finish line, but we had the courage to start, and we made it with 2 hours to spare on the cutoffs, and we didn't have to drop out.

I'll let the finish line photos speak for themselves...

So, I earned my first belt buckle.

And my car has a new decoration!

I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Beth for sparking my interest in running three years ago and once again convincing me to move beyond my comfort zone and try something crazy.  Through every step of the race, I knew she was right beside me supporting me.

I also have to give a shout out to my husband, and one man crew, Tony.  Thank you for schlepping all our gear and working at the aid station.  Knowing you were there waiting for us to come through was a huge boost.  Thank you also for putting up with my crazy training plans, weird food requests, and neurotic planning and packing.  You rock!

Thank you also to the Epic Ultras staff and volunteers!  You are all amazing, and I can't say think you enough for making my first ultra a possibility.  I hope I said it as I came through each aid station, etc., but if in my race induced stupor I forgot, please know that I meant it.

So, I've been asked many times over the last week, "What's next?"  Right now, I'd say some time off to let things heal.  I did my first workout since the race tonight.  Luckily it was a a small gym owned by friends since I still can't put a regular shoe on my feet!  It felt good to be active, but I'm thankful that my next scheduled race isn't until fall.  Will I ever do this again?  Of course! Ultras are addictive, and you forget the pain.  Will I run longer distances?  I'm planning on it...next year.

Until then...I'm going to eat and sleep.  And run.  Eventually.  Once I can wear a real shoe.  Although, I've been threatening to join the barefoot movement if things don't start healing faster...

Lake Perry Rocks Half Marathon

Lake Perry Rocks Half Marathon October 2013

For some reason, this was never posted last fall, but it was saved in my drafts.  So, here it is for your reading pleasure.  Better late than never...

4:30am alarms rarely cause me to smile, but race day alarms are often a welcome respite from fitful pre-race attempts at sleep.  On this cold, damp morning I am feeling particularly unsettled.  I haven't trained quite enough for this race, and I just signed up on Wednesday night in order to run with my friend, Speedy Beth.  We've decided to run the entire race together and just treat it as a good long run for the week.  No particular time goals, no aspirations for PRs.  (Although after starting the race, we discover that despite the various racing opportunities we've had at distances both shorter and longer, neither of us has run a trail half marathon, so it will be an automatic PR.)  As I'm attempting to quietly prepare my breakfast and pack my bags, I start getting some pre-race nerves.  Since I just signed up for the race, I haven't made plans for fueling, hydration, times, etc.  my watch is missing, and my son lost his, too.  Should I drink coffee or not?  Well, when in doubt, always opt for coffee.


I finally get everything gathered for the entire day's events.  (Did I also mention that after this race, I am headed to a mini-reunion bonfire with several friends I haven't seen since I was 15years old?  So, I'm also packing up clean clothes, pies for the potluck, chairs, blankets, etc.  *sigh*)

I finally get myself, my oatmeal, my coffee, my race stuff, and my bonfire stuff all ready, and I start packing it into the car.  It's a cold, damp, foggy morning with a lingering full moon.  It rained all day yesterday, so I am anticipating slick rocks and copious amounts of mud for today's race.  The temperature is currently hovering right around freezing with a race start temp predicted at 38F.  I grab Lucy's leash and leader and head to the car one last time.  She jumps in and we're ready to go.  We get a full 6 blocks from home before I realize the first thing I've forgotten.  We turn around and get my wayward items, and hit the road again for our 1 hour 45 minute drive to Lake Perry.

Around Lawrence, the coffee has kicked in and I need a pit stop.  I see that all the car windows are frosted over.  It's a bit chillier here...  While stopped, I find a cute, pink sportswatch for $8.  It doesn't have all the functions of my missing watch, but at least I can use the stopwatch mode to keep a total race time going.

Around 7:20, we finally arrive at Branded B Ranch.  The moon is still out, but the sun is coming up.  It's going to be a beautiful day.

















I find a parking place, and Lucy and I head toward the packet pickup location.  We find Speedy Beth's family along the way.  Lucy and Daisy are excited to see each other.

Trekking back and forth from car to packet pickup and back to the car to drop off shirt and mug, etc. and back to the start has me realizing I'm seriously overdressed.  So, I trudge back to the car one more time to shed a layer of shirt and trade my hat for a headband.

Promptly at 8:00, Bad Ben gathers us at the start, and gives us our last minute instructions.

...and we're off.  I usually start at the very back, but I'm feeling skippy today.  We hit the woods in the middle of a group of half marathon and 50k runners.  I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep this pace, but I'm going to hang on for the ride run.  About a mile or two in, the pack is beginning to spread, but we've got a group that's hanging in together.  Despite multiple offers to let them pass, the majority insist they like the pace and are happy to let me keep leading.  Well, this is an interesting change of pace. (pun intended)

Remember to smile for the camera...

We hit the 6 mile aid station in 1:08.  Still feeling groovy.

And then, somehow we're off on our count of unstaffed aid stations.

This race has been about 18 miles, right?  Eventually we work our way through the woods and out to the last aid station.

We finished and were feeling good with our new race bling.  

After the race, I got to go visit a friend I hadn't seen in years.  You know you have a good friend when you can show up muddy and stinky from a trail race, and all she does is give you a big hug, say congratulations, and point you to the shower!!  We ate lots of food when the rest of the group showed up...including these three amazing pies that I made instead of sleeping the night before the race.

War Eagle 25k

Awake at 2am to drive through strong thunderstorms on Arkansas back roads to get to a trail race by 5:45am...definitely qualifies as insanity.  Got packets picked up and numbers pinned on.  Visitor's Center was opened by some lovely park staff who allowed us to come inside out of the rain.  Race staff announced that the start time and pre-race meeting would be delayed due to the rain.  Apparently it was delaying the arrival of many of the runners.  Once the majority of the crowd arrived and the lightning settled down to just the cloud to cloud type, we were sent out into the pouring rain to seek our fates with the infamous advice, "in case of lightning, make sure to stand next to someone taller than you."  6:30am start time had become 7:15, but that wasn't too bad.

The race was much tougher than I had anticipated.  Severe thunderstorms.  Lack of sleep.  Stress from being on “vacation” for a week with extended family.  Fighting illness/pain for most of the week.  Didn’t eat right on race morning.  Didn’t have my race day energy bars that I use for long runs.  Didn’t have Lucy to run with me.  Course was less technical, but it had many LOOOOONNGG hill climbs that were quite steep and lasted ½ mile or longer.  Mentally and physically I wasn’t in the right place during the race.  However, I have discovered that it was much tougher on the other racers than I thought.  During the last 4 miles of the race, I got passed by several 50k racers.  I assumed that meant they were on their second lap and were finishing the 50k before I finished my 25k.  I was alone (couldn’t see anyone ahead or behind) on the trail for most of the race, so I also assumed I was dead last in my category when I finished.  It turns out that those 50k racers were on their first lap because they had an extra 3 mile jaunt through the woods at a point that 25k trail splits off.  So, I was able to jump ahead of some of the 50k runners without realizing it.  So the 20 people that passed me still had another 15 miles of race left.  I was very discouraged when I thought that the race felt so tough to me, but it appeared that several people had run a 50k on that trail in under 4hours.  It turns out that I was NOT last in the 25k—there were two women who came in after me.  It also turns out that the first 50k racer didn’t finish until about 30 minutes after me.  That means that I achieved 3 of my goals for the race.  1) I finished.  2) I wasn’t last in my 25k category. 3) I didn’t get lapped by any 50k runners. 

During the race, I almost threw in the towel at an aid station and quit.  Before aid station 2, I was tired, hungry, sick to my stomach, discouraged, and my legs were starting to cramp.  We were told that the first aid station was about 5 miles into the race, and then there would be aid stations every 3 miles or so.  When I looked at my watch, it appeared that I was going just slightly faster than a snail.  That was discouraging to think my pace was that slow.  I was really struggling.  I was all alone in the forest on a little trail in a thunderstorm, and I hadn’t seen another person for about 30 minutes.  I was convinced I must have made a wrong turn, but I couldn’t figure out where it would have happened.  I had started planning my dropout.

It turns out that it is closer to 7 miles to the first aid station (but I didn't know this yet.)  The folks at the first aid station were nice, but they didn’t seem as knowledgeable about long distance trail running.  When I got to aid station 2 (which I was thinking should be about 8 miles into the race) I encountered 3 experienced ultrarunners who knew all the right questions to ask about what I needed, and they managed to give me just exactly what I would need to get back on track.  Cup of Gatorade for electrolytes and hydration, cup of warm coke to settle my stomach, PB&J for fuel, banana for leg cramps, funny conversation and an offer to hang out as long as I wanted because I was a girl, and they like it when girls will talk to them.  LOL  I was in serious danger of quitting before that encounter, but I was able to pull it back together.  Then they told me I only had 3 miles to the next aid station and then 2 more to the end of the race.  What?  I was over 10 miles into the race and didn’t realize it.  At that point, I knew however bad it got, I could make it 3 miles to the next aid station even if I had to crawl.  And I wouldn’t quit and make someone drive me back to the start/finish with only 2 miles left, so I knew I would be a finisher. 

I ran for a while before I started to get passed by folks I assumed were on lap 2 of the 50k.  I was discouraged again, but I knew I would at least finish.  The last 2 miles are brutal.  One giant downhill that lasts about ½ mile followed by an even larger uphill that goes another ½ mile followed by a mile-long section with multiple small uphill grades. 

I managed to finish in 4:09:30.4.  It wasn’t pretty, and it wasn’t under my goal time, but I finished.

Once I got some dry clothes and cleaned off the outer layer of mud in the visitor’s center bathroom, I knew I needed food.  The finish line food was supplied by a local catfish restaurant.  They were frying chicken strips, catfish, and hush puppies at the finish line.  I tried to eat a chicken strip, but one bite into the process, my body let me know that wasn’t a good idea! 

By the time we drove into town to find some lunch, I was convinced that I wouldn’t run my 50k in July.  I just couldn’t be ready.  I hurt this morning when I got up, and I was so sore.  I even told Evil Jeremy and Speedy Beth at dinner tonight that I might not be doing it.  But now that I’ve looked at the race results, I’m not 100% convinced that I can’t do it.  If I can run 25k in a thunderstorm after being sick/hurt for a week, maybe a 50k is possible in 6 weeks.  It will be an interesting decision process. 

P.S.  The trails were beautiful.  I wish I had felt better so I could enjoy them more.  

PsychoWyco Run Toto Run

Up at 5:45 am on a Saturday. This is surely the first sign of insanity...

Quick shower, throw on the selected running clothes, chow down some oatmeal, feed Lucy, double check the drop bag, grab Lucy's leash and leader, and we're out the door by 6:15.

It's an hour drive to Wyandotte County Lake--home of the Trail Nerds, the WyCo cougar, and some of the toughest trails in the Midwest.

Arrive at 7:20. Parking spots in the lot reserved for 50k/20 mile runners are filled, but we find a place along the road without having to take the shuttle from the marina lot a mile away. It's a lonely wait for the 8am start. (I've never started a race without having friends or family there.) Lucy meets several canine friends--some she's met before like Elliott Snickerfritz, some new friends like Cici and some who we may never know their names.

We make one last trip to the "facilities." Porta-potties really are an upscale luxury when you consider that the rest of the day you will be availing yourself of the available bushes and trees along the trail!

Waiting for the call to the start line.

Bad Ben may look like a happy-go-lucky race director on his way to announce the start of the race, but he's really contemplating the sadistic course he's laid out for us. Mwahahahaha...such an evil laugh inside his head!

Right before 8am Speedy Beth shows up (her 10 mile race starts at 9am.) It is great to see a friendly face, but she has bad news. Jeremy woke up sick and will likely not be there to pace me for miles 11-20. Disappointing news, but I will have the next 174 minutes to prepare myself to do battle with those miles on my own.

And the clock strikes 8, and we're off.

It's a short 1/4 mile to the entrance to the labyrinth...errr trail system.
As we're climbing the first hill towards the trails, we stop jogging since there seems to be a backlog of folks at the entrance. Turns out everyone is running slow because we're entering this...

About 2 miles into the course, we make it to aid station 1 hosted by the crew from Moosejaw. Fabulous crew offering all the ultrarunning essentials. We get Lucy a quick drink, eat a bite of oatmeal bar and head off into the WyCo Triangle for a nice 1 mile jaunt up and down and up and down and around and back. Lucy keeps seeing people running the opposite direction on trails near us. She wants to know why we keep going the long way when there is clearly a shorter path back to where we came from. A short time later, we made it back up out of the WyCo Triangle and bid farewell to the folks from Moosejaw. Lucy looks at me like we are completely nuts for running a mile to end up 30 feet farther down the main trail.

We're off to seek our adventure along the trail. We're doing well and feeling pretty good so far. About mile 4.5, we encounter the first slippery downhill section. Steep and winding and mud so thick and slick it's like Bambi on the ice. I twist my ankle and come up hopping at the midpoint of the hill which scares the one guy behind me on the hill more than it scares me. I yell back that I'm okay. (Do you know how many times, I've done that in training? We don't stop for twisted ankles, we keep running!) We successfully navigate the remainder of Fall Down Hill and make it to the bottom of the dam. We climb the Dam Hill while getting passed by the hiker in khaki pants and find the mirage also known as aid station #2 hosted by the GOATz: Greater Omaha Area Trailrunnerz. Before we even get to the station, they're taking Lucy's dish from me and filling it with water. They feed her peanut butter and jelly on tortillas which makes them an instant favorite in her list of new acquaintances! We're now at about mile 5 and heading into the tough half of the loop. Little did I know just how tough this was going to be.

There was a half mile of paved road to get us to Fester's Wander--a section of trail blazed by a canine. Steep downhills coated in slick, muddy ooze complete with signs that say slow down, no really you need to slow down, SLOW DOWN!! And if you don't heed the signs, you'll slide off the edge of the hill and roll to significant injury at the base of the mini-mountain. As there were currently no corpses, injured runners, or rescue crews on scene, I'm assuming those who came before me heeded the signs. Once we make it to the bottom of the valley, we turn a corner only to be reminded that what runs down must also run back up. I face a hill with a grade steeper than any I faced while attempting to climb the 14er last summer. Thick, oozing, slippery mud trampled by 276 other runners is taunting me. As I look up, and up, and up I see two ropes stretched out beside sections of trail. Those ropes transfer this ascent from the "impossible...you're an idiot for even thinking you can make it up this hill" category to the "difficult...you'll get muddy...you're still an idiot but you'll make it up the hill" category. I almost stop to take a picture, but I'm afraid to stop that long for fear I will lose my nerve to attempt this hill.

We successfully navigate the ascent along with several other smaller hills and make it back to higher ground.

Now the trails are coated with deep, shoe-sucking mud in the majority of places. My quads, and calves and glutes are screaming at me as I continue pushing my body.

It wouldn't be bad to be a 10 mile finisher. Lots of people will drop distances today because of the trail conditions. I was so proud of 10 miles 7 months ago. I could live with another 10 mile medal. My brain desperately pleads with the rest of my body to just give in and be done in 3 more miles. We're tired and muddy and slightly injured. We could be done and go eat brunch. My pacer is probably not going to be there. I still have to go through the infamous Three Hills trail section which is aptly named for the three long, steep hills that occur in the last 2 miles. But then my heart kicks in and reminds me just how disappointed I will be with 10 miles today. I haven't truly used up what is in the tank. I have more to give. I am a trail runner. We aren't going to do the smart thing...at least not today!

I attempt to navigate a muddy gulley and end up landing on my knee in the mud. Grab for a bush to hold on as I slip. End up grabbing a thorn bush. Oops! Doesn't seem too bad. Wipe off mud. pick out thorns. Keep going.

I start seeing signs letting me know there are 3 miles to go, then 2 miles. Then the last aid station. It's time for Three Hills which always makes me wonder which mathematically challenged person named this section because there are clearly more than three noteworthy hills! We trudge on and make it through each hill.

At the top of the last hill, we begin hearing cowbells. The finish line is about 1/4 mile away around a corner and down a hill.

It is decision time. When I reach the finish line, I have to make a choice of crossing the line or being funneled into the route back to loop 2. As the cowbell gets louder and I hear cheering, the decision is easy. I have to try to do loop 2. I have to know I made every effort. I'd rather have a DNF on the 20 than a medal for the 10. I'm coming down the hill and hear familiar voices. I hear Tony...and then I hear Jeremy. I do have a pacer!! I would have tried without and am pretty sure I would have made it, but I know with an experienced ultrarunner friend to keep me on track, I'm going the distance! I see my split time, and although I may be at the back of the 20 mile pack, my 10 mile split is 31 minutes faster than my 10 mile finish time from July! Woohoo!!

Quick change of shoes and socks, shed the extra layer of pants, drop the jacket, and we're off!

Back into the trails and into the mud. It's worse. How could it get worse? Oh, yes, now there have been approximately 1000 pairs of feet coming through. Slogging through the mud is more enjoyable when you have a friend to talk to, but the first 2 miles are taking forever! Then the Moosejaw aid station comes into view. And they have bacon! Real, fresh cooked bacon! If you're not used to hanging out at ultra races, you may be shocked by the kinds of foods stocked at aid stations, but there really is a method to the apparent madness. I know that I shouldn't try new foods in a race, but it's BACON!! Totally worth the risk. So Lucy and I enjoy some yumminess before hitting the Triangle. I'm running more and feeling good. I can do this!

We make it back to ankle twisting hill and skate down. We climb the Dam Hill again and encounter the amazing crew at the Dam aid station. This time, Lucy gets cheese quesadillas. She's in LOVE with these volunteers. She may leave me for them if I'm not careful... A quick porta potty stop is in order which is good since I haven't peed in over 7 miles!

We walk most of the paved hill. We hit the big downhill and my Achilles starts to twinge...a lot. Now my ankle hurts, my Achilles hurts, my calves hurt, my quads hurt, my glutes hurt, and I'm a mess. But it's just as far to go back as it is to finish. So we plunge into the woods. Mud! Hills! More mud. More hills.

Jeremy and I begin to discuss the deep philosophical issues of the day like the uses of the word Smurf. It's a descriptor, a noun, a verb, an expletive. Really, what other words do you need if you can say Smurf. Things can be smurfy or totally smurfed. You can say smurf you or smurf you very much and they have very different meanings. We get some strange looks as we get passed. (Isn't this what everyone discusses at mile 17?)

We see this sign and realize I haven't lost my sense of humor...

...because we want to lay down on the road and have our pictures taken. Being literal can be so amusing!

At the last aid station, I get 2 S-caps and 3 cups of Gatorade (since my hydration pack ran dry at mile 6) and Lucy gets more treats and water. We take off through Three Hills. Some of the hills were one slow, painful step at a time, but I was running more of the flats and downs. I make my way up the last uphill section and am greeted by two spectators who start yelling, "100 meters of flat, 100 meters downhill. Kick it in!!" We round the bend into the downhill and I hear the cowbell and the crowd and I see THE FINISH LINE!!! We. Did. It! Lucy and I finished the toughest 20 mile course anywhere near here on one of the muddiest days of the year.

(The sticker is already on my car now.)

Lucy gets her own medal, too! :)

In other race day news, my friend Heather and her running buddy, Leora, finished their first 10 mile trail race!!

And Speedy Beth ran her 10 mile in 2:12:04 which exactly ties her varsity cross-country running son's time from July!

**This race report is merely one crazy runner's recollection of the day's events, and may be heavily influenced by pain, exhaustion, and endorphins. If anyone remembers the course differently, write your own blog! ;)