I chose to begin this race report with the all-too-famous Dickens quote because it truly tells the tale of this day. Granted, my run wasn't quite as tumultuous as the French Revolution, but hey, Dickens never ran a hundred now did he?! Let's start at the beginning. (*this entry will include lots of swearing, discussions of bodily fluids, and other generally gross and potentially off-putting things. Consider yourself warned :) ) Training This seems like a good place to start. Here's what my usual ultra training plan looks like: Run 5 days a week, don't get too drunk the night before your long run. Top out with a 50 mile run about 6 weeks out. Skittles are not a breakfast food. Figure out what you will be able to eat for 24 hours straight. Try not to get hurt. Pretty brilliant, right?! It's a miracle I've survived to adulthood, as many will attest. I thought I might do things a bit different this time, and see what I'm actually capable of. I already knew I could cover the distance, so that was a non-issue. My knowledge of running coaches was limited to this- I have a few friends who use a coach. That is to say, I knew nothing. The interwebs seemed like they'd be a good start, I could at least figure out WHO coached and maybe learn a thing or two about them. Turns out, many of the ultrarunners I admire double as coaches, so I just needed to pick one. Enter Rugged Running and Michele Yates. Michele is unquestionably the perfect coach for me. Her philosophy is holistic and incorporates not only running but strength training and nutrition (These might be two areas I've resisted incorporating... smh). She clearly knows what she is doing, as she was named "Ultra Runner of the Year." AND SHE HAS HIP PROBLEMS! That last part really sealed the deal for me- a coach who could not only help me figure out strength and nutrition but who understands my specific injury. And she just happened to be taking applications for her team. The rest is history. Michele systematically kicked my ass for the next 7 months. Her method of training was very unique to me and I'll admit I did get nervous occasionally because it was SO different than I was used to. But I can also say that I've never worked like this before- keep reading and you'll see how it all worked out. The run So, Burning River! A long, hot, humid, muddy, miserable slog through Cleveland-ish in late July? Sounds fucking horrible. Sign me up! While the previous sentence is dead accurate, I also have a long history with this race. I've run the 100 mile relay with three of my favorite shebeasts while two more were simultaneously running and pacing the 100. It was my first exposure to watching someone I know actually suffer through it, and realizing what it did to a runner (Anne Lang you are a GODDESS!). I've run many races through the CVNP and surrounding trail systems, and I usually come away from there with a smile on my face. I know this race... the weather and course combine to cause absolute carnage. I like a race where I need to think and strategize... and I knew these dynamics would allow me to do just that.
is not always an easy task for me, so I was rather pleased with myself! That is, until the first crew stop at mile 12, where Jen was literally running from the car because I was 43 minutes earlier than planned. She let me know that. And also that she was giving me a frowny face on my pace chart for not following directions. She got me in and out really quickly. I asked her to swap some food around because the Goldfish were like checking concrete and to just go with the cherry/apple/chia bars because they were still delicious. If I had only known... The rest of the morning just floated away. I was running probably better than I had ever run a race, and everything felt SO easy. If I had ever been nervous about whether or not all my training had prepared me to do this, I no longer had a single question in my mind. I just enjoyed the rolling singletrack and continued to pick the boys off (one of my favorite pasttimes!). Somewhere around the 50k mark, I had the most spectacular Superman fall of maybe my whole running career. I even found that hilarious, and I gave the two guys I was running with shit because they let me lead to find all the roots! The magical voice in my headphones told me I was moving somewhere between a 20 and 21 hour finish time, and I chose to keep my pace where it was because it was seriously one of those golden days. The next section on the race can be a little rough. It includes a really hot, exposed few miles, along with a section aptly named the "Bog of Despair." I continued moving really well through here, so I was thrilled. I'd get to see my crew and pacers at Boston (the halfway mark), which was also super exciting! Maybe it was all that excitement that caused what happened next... Through experience and the wisdom of others, I know that nothing ever lasts in ultramarathons. It's a blessing, as well as a curse. The lows will end, but so will the highs. Or in my case, the ability to control my bodily functions. HOLY SHIT. Literally! And all of a sudden! I spent the last 6 miles of this section just trying to make it from tree to tree. My lower stomach (intestines? I don't know) just seized up every time I tried to run and then I'd need to figure out a new and creative way to repurpose something as toilet paper. Okay, I thought, this isn't really ideal. It took me a LONG time to get to the Boston Aid Station, and all I could say to my crew was that I couldn't stop pooping! I still felt really good, so I wasn't concerned. At this point, I get to pick up a pacer. for those of you unfamiliar, a pacer is someone who's job it is to boss you around/make sure you don't die. I asked for my buddy Mike at this point because I knew he had stories to tell me and I needed a distraction so I didn't freak out. So it turns out that this was going to continue for quite a while. Mike had me from miles 50-66, and he has now seen way more of me than he probably ever bargained for! Sorry, Mike. The poopsplosion continued, and I continued to guess which leaves would not give my ass poison ivy. Not only that, but now it started to come out the other end. I think this is what happened... I knew the pooping would be a problem from a hydration and nutrition standpoint. Aside from being totally gross, I mean. I think I tried to overcompensate for what I was losing out my butt, which in turn threw my stomach way off. I made friends with a few new trees and subsequently barfed all over them. This has now been going on for hours, and I am freaked the fuck out and losing a TON of time (byebye 24 hours!). I know I can probably make it 20 or so miles on just my body with no food, but simple math would tell anyone that 60 (where I was) plus maybe 10 more miles, does not get me to 100. I started to talk about needing to maybe drop, and not being sure what to do because I could keep literally nothing in my system. I was so completely bummed because I was still running tremendously when I could! It was really frustrating. When we got to the Ledges aid station, Irene was there waiting for me. I was just rattling at that point, because I didn't know if I needed to drop or what I could do to maybe salvage a finish... enter Dr. Irene. She was magnificent. She asked what I'd done to that point, the status of everything, told me what to take to try and curb the mass exodus of everything in my body, and gave Vicci, my next pacer, instructions on what to do. She stretched my hamstrings while we problem solved what I could try to get to stay in my system. She will deny it, but Irene saved my race. Ledges was 100% the low point of this race for me. I was in full out panic mode, not thinking clearly, and she stepped in and did exactly what I needed her to do. I love this woman <3 Now that I had a plan, Vicci and I headed off for Pine Hollow. Vicci has never paced or crewed a 100 before. You would absolutely never know that. This poor woman received me at my lowest point, and spent the next few hours with me telling me stories and making sure I wasn't dead. She was the PERFECT mix of mom and friend. While I was still exiting things from my body, Vicci and I played around with food and liquids to see what I could keep put, and when we came back around to the end of the loop, I was in much better spirits and was still moving quite well when I wasn't leaving half digested food all over the Cleveland Metroparks. I should mention my crew badasses here. Sandman, Drew, Morgan, Zach, Amy, Irene, Jen, Mike, Beth, Gail the shark, Vicci... they were so good and so flexible with these stomach issues, getting me new things (that may or may not have actually been available lol) to try, and still getting me in and out fast. Special thanks to Jen for reminding me that no matter how much I wanted to socialize with my crewing friends, NOW IS NOT THE TIME lol!! FOCUS, WOMAN! With a little help from a jetboil and Drew's secret stash, Beth and I were out for the hardest section of the course. I can't say enough about Beth. See the "thank you" section because there's just not enough room here. We have so much running history, especially in this section, so it was really special to get to do these miles with her. And she was AMAZING!! We cursed out nature, wondered if bears were in the trees, talked about everything but especially dogs and running, and she Altoid-ed me every mile or so. I did almost puke ON her at one point, but I blame the Covered Bridge trail :) Since I had been existing on Skratch and Altoids for the last 20 miles (hey, calories are calories!), I was really glycogen depleted. This means only one thing at night in the woods= I hallucinated my face off for most of this loop. I'm not going to lie, it was fucking amazing. "Hey Beth, is that a cat?" There were many, many cats on that trail for me that night... also dudes in armchairs, dancing weeds, and psychedelic grass. AMAZING. We made up a shit ton of time (no pun intended) on the last five miles of the section. This was the only section I cried on, because I was so frustrated about the vomiting. I just felt so damn good otherwise! Fortunately, the pooping and cramping has subsided so Beth got me to run quite a bit. She handed me off to Vicci again for a solid second to last leg, and Vicci continued to be an extraordinary pacer. She made me eat and drink and run, and shielded me from a guy when I was peeing off the side of a bench. Jen got the last section through the Cascades. She was such a butt, staying 15 feet ahead of me just so I'd keep trying to catch up. I'm also pretty sure she lied to me about the run/walk intervals we were doing! I guess whatever gets your runner across that line, right? She sacrifices so much because of my love for this sport, so I was really grateful that she got to run me in. There's a tradition at Burning River that your crew meets you a mile out from the finish and runs it in with you. I love this about this race, and it almost made me cry again. Especially when Drew magically produced a beer that I needed to drink IMMEDIATELY because what better way to finish 101.3 miles?
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