At some point during the race my
mind begins to question my actions. It happens at every Ultra, I question why I
am out here suffering. What is the point? Why couldn’t I stay at home and eat food
while watching TV? Well, this last weekend I finally came up with a good
answer. I am out here killing myself, because this is life. Life is not easy.
It’s not always about being satisfied and happy. Suffering is a huge part of
it. Whether you deal with pain or hardships throughout your childhood, as a
young adult, or in later life, you will undoubtedly come across them at some
point in your life. By experiencing the loss of a loved one or even in your own
deterioration of health, suffering is a part of life. And so at one time or another you
will suffer an agonizing pain and you will wonder why life can be so cruel. I have
acknowledged this fact and applied these fundamentals toward my life now. By
putting myself through the pain of running 50 miles I can gain experience of
what it’s like to struggle and push forward. There are many examples and
stories that runner’s could relate to about preserving. And also many people
can probably relate other sports/adventures as a microcosm to how they
experience life and apply it toward their lives. The distinction I am making is
that by facing my fears of losing a safety net and pushing through, I am
experiencing life. I’m shedding my security blanket and running straight into
the unknown. I learn to adapt and rely on my inner strength to push through.
I guess what I really enjoy is the
feeling of knowing I am lost, hurt, and broken. Not because I am a sadist, but
because it allows me to relate my life to those who are poor and suffering on a
daily basis. It is humbling and centering knowing that anyone can slip into a
rough position. Feeling like you are at rock bottom is quite an eye-opener. It’s
similar to a bad hangover feeling or the torment felt after the loss of a loved
one. Your body and mind just don’t feel like going on. In a way, it’s making
you live in the moment. You may hate it, but you can’t deny that you are
feeling emotions and living in the now. And feeling alive and in the moment is
what I live for. Appreciating every single moment in our lives is impossible. But I try to enjoy as
much as I can. This might be the reason why I have mood swings and my close friends
and family can probably attest to this. Life has its ups and downs. In my short life I’ve
experienced many high highs and as well as many low lows. I’m generally a happy
person. But what I’ve noticed lately is a lethargic feeling that grips me after
days of inactivity. To remedy this, I have found a healthy balance between school, exercise,
and spending time with family/friends as the best solution for me.
These epiphanies struck me during
the race and it was likely due to the wonderful support of my friends and
family. I’ll get more into the race recap now and get on with the details. Driving
to Hell in Michigan was my brother Marvin who was awesome not falling asleep and driving us
safely to everywhere we needed to be. My other friend joining us was Mike and
he was a great addition to our group. He is a friend I met through the Muddy
Monk races and had bought an 8 person tent that we would be using at the
campsite. And lastly there was my good friend Adam who joined us to help pace and crew. My
brother Marvin and friend Adam were a tremendous help this last weekend. They
dealt with my diva-esque behavior from the moment our trip started.
The drive to Hell wasn’t too bad
and once we got to the packet pickup the atmosphere was pure Ultra. Mike and I
recognized some people from the previous Dances with Dirt race and we said hi to
them. We talked to Dawn, the Canadian Chick, and got some last minute details
about the course. After we had all our swag we headed over to the campsite to
set up our tent. After some brief bumbling and confusion we were able to set up
the tent haphazardly on a gentle slope amidst some soft rain. We had dinner
arrangements planned with Adam’s Aunt who was from the area. We were running
late since setting up the tent took longer than expected.
We finally got to the
Dam Site Inn where Adam's aunt was waiting and ordered a few pizzas for some last minute carbs. Since we were
in Hell, the problems began immediately. It took the waitress almost 45 minutes
to let us know that the pizza wasn’t cooking right due to some problems with
the oven. We re-ordered some food and waited another 20 minutes for it. I
ordered a chicken salad but when it was brought out, it was just salad. I was
too hungry to ask for the chicken and began eating. I was trying to get to bed
at 10 but it was already 9:30 by the time were done eating. This bar/diner was
the perfect picture of what you would expect hell to be like. The entire bar
had an orange tint. The wooden bar and demons decorating the place added more
to the atmosphere. Ironically, the waitress was actually very friendly and apologized
for the delay. As we were finishing our meal the local band was practicing
their instruments for another night in Hell. If you’ve ever seen the movie From Dusk till
Dawn, the scene where they enter the “Titty Twister” paints a good description
of what this place resembled. Luckily no vampires showed their fangs and we
left as soon as we could.
Back at the campsite, I was thrilled
the tent was still standing. We parked and got settled inside the tent to go to bed. We huddled
over a course map and with our headlamps quickly went over the aid stations
where my brother and Adam would crew for me. We also planned where they could pace
me along the course. It started to rain more and just as we were settling in we
started noticing some leaks in the tent. Adam managed to adjust the canopy to
stop a leak in his corner. Then I placed a towel and propped a chair to stop another leak
in my corner. And then later Marvin and Mike went outside to fix yet another leak,
again in my corner. I was thankful they were there and taking care of it while
I stayed in my sleeping bag trying to get some rest.
The morning came early for us (5
am) and I woke up Mike as I was getting ready. Once we were all prepped we got
in the car and made the short 8 minute drive to the start area. It was still dark and
the runners looked like coal miners with their headlamps on full charge. Mike
and I got into position and I gave him some last minute tips since this would
be his first 50 miler. I echoed the advice I had received from my friend Joe Brown at
my first 50 miler. “Be prepared to spend all day out there. It’s going to be a
long day in the woods. Enjoy it, and run your own race.” Mike acknowledged that
and said he would be fine. The countdown
began and I let out a scream. The race was on and the start line disappeared
behind us. The woods up ahead had my full attention.
The first 5-6 miles felt like ghost
train ride. The mist and dark woods added to the enchantment. The swamps we
passed looked spooky especially with our headlamps casting shadows along the
way. I was keeping pace with Mike but he quickly dropped back and slowed down
since the lead pack had carried us with their momentum. The last thing you want
to do in a 50 mile race is start out too fast. I made that mistake at my last
50 miler. I was planning on coasting the first few miles and settling into a
moderate pace to maintain throughout the race. I also barely felt my legs and
that effortless feeling is always a good sign. I was running with a group and
we snuck up on the first aid station and I completely avoided it. I had only
taken a few sips from my handheld and would be fine for the next 5-6 miles.
The nice thing about Ultras is that
most aid stations are usually spaced between 5-6 miles apart. This makes it
easy to plan and finish these races. By only focusing on the next leg between
aid stations, it breaks the race apart nicely and gives you a chance to assess
what you need for the next leg. Feeling confident and with the daylight
breaking through the tree line, I pushed on and kept pace with some of the faster
runners. I was going through the up-hills conservatively and charging on the
down-hills. I raced with my strengths and planned my racing strategy around my talents. Suddenly, after crossing a dirt road, another runner and I saw a pack of
runners coming at us. My first thought was that we had reached the first turn-around
and they were the ones in the lead. But then they started telling us not to go
that way. We followed them and soon enough there was a group of about 20
runners standing in the middle of that dirt road we had crossed earlier. We
noticed an arrow marked in the dirt but it didn’t look at all like an official
course marking. Some prepared runners began looking at a map they had with them
and after a few minutes decided to make a right turn. They led the way and the
rest of us “map-less sheep” followed them on. We continued along the dirt road
and had to make another unmarked turn down another dirt road. Finally after
about more than a mile we finally saw a course marking. I was surprised how bad
the course was marked but thankful to be with such a large group when I got to
that point. Had I been solo, I likely would have gotten lost like many others
that actually did, as I would later find out.
I didn’t realize the next aid
station would be where Adam would be joining me to pace for a few miles. It was
a welcome surprise and seeing him and my brother so early in the race gave me a nice boost. I was
happy to have Adam join me as I felt good knowing he would finally get to see
me in action doing the sport we both love. We had both run various road races
together, but this would be our first trail run together. We both had been
following the Ultra circuit closely this past year with rapt attention. We both got really
into the sport and even had our favorite Ultra Runners that we followed
regularly via social media. But throughout all our shared excitement, we had
yet to run a single trail together. It was a great first run because I was
running hard but maintaining control. It was a perfect initiation for Adam to
see how I manage the trails. After the first few scrambles, even without
looking back I could tell Adam had a smile on his face. This part of the course
had some very vertical hills and required getting on all fours to climb. The
weather at this point was staying cool and the cloudy skies would stay there
for most of the day. The rain would hold off except for a light sprinkle not
lasting more than a few minutes. I was feeling good until about 5 miles after Adam had
joined me. I had told Adam that I was feeling very hungry and thought the
rumbling from my stomach was just hunger pangs. How I wished it was just
hunger. I began to eat more sport beans thinking I needed food but I soon
realized it was actually gas. I felt the need to belch but it wouldn’t come
out. Then I noticed when I would speed up, like on the down-hills, the feeling
would get worse. I started thinking it could be exercise-induced heart burn,
which I dealt with before in other races. But this was different. I instantly
thought the lousy dinner I had the night before might be to blame. But it also
could have been the new flavored BeKind bar that had blueberries in it that I
had eaten in the morning. Either way I knew the next few hours would be tough.
Adam helped by talking to me and
keeping my mind off the pain coming from my stomach. I was feeling bloated but
it was only really noticeable whenever I would run fast. I decided I needed to
vomit and purge my system. We reached the next aid station (mile 19) and I
tried hard to puke. No success and worse yet, I couldn’t eat anything. I took
half of an avocado with me in the hopes my stomach would settle and I could get
some calories in me. I took some Tums from the aid station and waved goodbye to
Marvin and Adam who would be staying behind. The next leg was possible the most
technical with thick brush and lots of fell trees to get around. Not to mention
this was the famous stream crossing section of the race. I was so wrapped up in
dealing with my stomach pain that when the first stream appeared in front of me I
didn’t miss a beat and was splashing through it before I knew it. There was a runner in front of me
being cautious and wading through the water while I showed no hesitation and
passed him quickly. I started feeling worse as I trotted along. I kept trying
to eat but every time I put something in my mouth it was tasteless and I began
to gag. I tried hard letting my saliva break down some of the gel and ingest it
that way, but it wasn’t working. I started to panic a little. I was calculating
that if I couldn’t eat I would bonk very hard. So I decided to drink as much
calories as I could. After the last stream crossing that was waist deep, I made it to
the banks of Hell. This aid station was literally behind the Damn Site Inn I
had eaten the night before. The town of Hell was showing me no mercy. That was,
until an angel appeared. I stumbled into the aid station and grabbed my first
drop bag. I decided to just change out of my soaked socks and push on. Meanwhile
this “angel” (volunteer) kept offering her help. I asked for her to refill my
hand held and she did it quickly. Then she asked if I wanted food or pop. I
wasn’t thinking too clearly but when I heard mention of pop I asked for
Mountain Dew. She quickly handed me a cup full of the Dew. Then as soon as I
was done changing socks she offered to take my drop bag and place it in the
dead zone (Dead zone is the spot to leave your bag after you use it so it can
be returned to the start to retrieve once you finish). This volunteer was so
helpful and I really appreciated the kindness she showed me.
After that small glimmer of hope in Hell
I ran on toward Silver Lake. The next leg was slightly better as I could sort of drink
fluids, but still no food. I had tossed the avocado away since carrying it
around seemed useless. I again tried to nibble on some sport beans but it was
unsuccessful. I kept burping and trying to throw up along the run. I eventually
made it to Silver Lake aid station (mile 25) and again was relieved to see my
crew there. Marvin was all dressed up in his running clothes and ready to pace
me. This was unexpected as I was under the impression he would be joining me later at
the 50K mark. It was great that he was there though because I was really
suffering and his company was much appreciated. I don’t remember much of the
crowd at the aid station except for the main guy that kept trying to offer me
something. I told him I couldn’t eat anything and he told me to try to get
something in me. I asked Marvin to grab me a cookie and I planned on trying to
stomach that later on. We were out of that aid station and back on the trails.
Marvin, although he had good intentions, was asking way too many questions. I
tried to answer him but my mind was focused on the trails and my problematic
stomach. I did mention to him that I needed to throw up and he could tell from
my attitude that I was struggling. We did have some good running and my
momentum would come in waves. I would feel good for a few minutes and run fast
and drink. Then when the stomach turned I would slow down and focus on breathing.
This pattern continued all the way to the next aid station at the start/finish
area. The course routed the 50 milers to run alongside the 50K course and then
pass right by the finish and continue into the woods. It was cruel passing
right by the finish area, but I suppose that sort of torment is expected in Hell.
It wasn't all bad. At least the aid station at the 50K point was away far
from the crowds and their celebrating could not be heard. I did manage to catch
my time as I crossed the clock and saw my time was 5:22. That would have been
almost 40 minutes faster than any other 50K I’ve ever done. I would later find
out that the course was short on the 50K loop and that would explain my
incredible time. However, at the time it was a confidence boost knowing I felt like crap and
was still able to run fast. Also, another morale boost was when Adam told me I was still in the running for a spot in
the top ten. This gave me encouragement and I pushed on. Marvin stayed back
with Adam and I’d see them next at the farm (mile 39). I was feeling slightly
better but still not good enough to run at a 100%. It was frustrating because
my legs still felt great but my stomach was holding me back. I was realizing
that because I was running slower, by the time my stomach got better my legs
would probably be tired and I’d again finish another 50 miler with a slower time. I understand
that anything can happen on a long race like this. So I reluctantly put aside
my hopes of a PR and focused more on just finishing this race. I had toyed with
the idea of dropping down to a 50K and calling it a day. But then the thought
of seeing Mike at the finish and him having done the 50 miler and me only the
50K didn’t sit well with me. I couldn’t bear the thought of quitting unless
something really drastic happened. So I pushed on.
The next leg was less than 3 miles.
So that meant those 3 miles would be tough. The way this course was broken down
was that the shorter the distance, the harder the trail. I was feeling tired
and noticed the lack of nutrition must be affecting me. Then as I was trying to
let out another burp, something magical happened. I looked at the ground and
saw what looked like a cheetah headband. I was confused and as I bent over for
a closer look I noticed they were a pair of soiled panties. Now it could have
been my disgust from seeing soiled underwear on the course, or the fact that I was
bent over, but either way in induced the glorious vomit I had been waiting for.
Orange fountains expelled from my mouth. It was wonderful feeling my stomach
purge and getting rid of whatever was bothering my gut. I hung on to a tree and
let out the rest of the orange spew. I wiped my eyes and smiled. Finally, after
about 4 hours of stomach problems I was back on track.
I was feeling much better and after
a runner passed me he asked how I was doing. I told him I puked and he was
happy for me but reminded me to drink plenty of fluids. I did exactly that. The
next few miles were tough. It was knee deep muck and I took my time traversing
it. It wasn’t too long before I reached the next aid station and it was like a
buffet for me. I could cookies, chips, pretzels, and pop without any problems.
The volunteer was happy for me but reminded me not to overdo it. I took his
advice and hit the trails. I had been keeping pace with another runner named
Jim and we both kept seeing each other. I had caught up to him and he too was
glad I was feeling better. This is what I loved about this sport. The
competition was there, but the camaraderie was more important. Helping each
other and encouraging runners is what holds this sport together. I was feeling
a hundred times better and couldn’t wait to see my crew and tell them the good
news.
The next leg was long. It was
almost 6 miles, but what made it seem longer was that one of the volunteers at the last aid station had
told me it was only 3 miles to the next aid station. This is where doing good
research comes in handy. When you’re told something false, it really gets
annoying. It also makes you reluctant to believe any of the following
volunteers. But fortunately I was in a much better mood and enjoyed the next 6
miles. I came across a runner who walking and he told me he was done. He was in pain and said he was going to drop out. I told
him to just keep moving and put one leg in front of the other. He thanked me and kept walking. I hope my
positive energy helped him in some way. As I moved further along I noticed I was really
getting my speed back and began charging on the down-hills again. I got to a
road that ran along a cornfield and had a thought that running through the
cornfield would be fun. Sure enough, a few minutes later the course was taking
us through the corn fields. It reminded me of the muddy mess I ran through
while pacing a friend at the Burning River 100. This time the cornfield wasn’t
a mucky soup like it had been in Ohio and running through the corn stalks was
pleasantly exciting. Like a kid running and playing on a farm, I was having a
blast. Perhaps the sun coming out at this time had something to do with my
uplifted spirit too. The fun ended and the course took me back onto the roads.
The next road led to the farm and the
next aid station. I was feeling good and happily told Marvin and Adam I had thrown up. I
noticed Adam wasn’t telling me I was still in the top ten but I was okay with
that. I was happy enough with a cooperating stomach. I was eating everything I
could and happy to have Marvin joining me again. He got into position behind me
and I apologized for being a grouch earlier. He said not to worry and that it
was expected. He also said not to worry about him and to keep focused on
finishing the race. I appreciated that and felt another surge and pushed on.
The next leg was a short loop around the farm. That meant it was a short
difficult leg. This was probably the most wooded section of the race as there
was a tree to climb over every 30 seconds. I snapped numerous branches between
my heavy footfalls catching them between my shins. The cuts I would notice at
the end of the race were definitely made here. Marvin was quieter on this leg
of the race but I actually didn’t notice it until later. He mentioned to me toward the
end of this leg that he would stay back and not run the next leg. He mentioned he felt a twinge of a
reoccurring IT band issue. I told him it was smart to take it easy and not push
himself too hard. He acknowledged this race was hard and the rough terrain was
getting to him. We got back to the farm and Adam had a wet towel ready for me. I
wiped my face and neck to stay cool. The sun was poking in and out of the
clouds and some sections of the course had sand that really reflected the heat. I was surprised
how much sand was on the course. In fact, earlier one of the local runners
mentioned that during the summer, these sandy patches can be brutal. I refilled
my hand held, took another loot of gels, and got going. I told Adam and Marvin
I was feeling good and I’d see them at the finish line. I was at mile 43 and
only had 7 more to go.
The next 7 miles would have been
smooth except for one thing. My legs began to rebel. The dreaded cramps began
to emerge and I tried my hardest to contain them. I had recently been reading
some research by Dr. Joe Uhan about cramps and the prevention of them. It was
interesting to note that by eating salty foods or pills, the effect of
preventing cramps came from the taste instead of the actual sodium. The study
claimed that sodium doesn’t enter the body quickly enough to reach the blood
stream and prevent cramping. Rather, the brain senses that sodium is entering
the body and the mind relaxes the muscles letting them know that salt is on the
way. It is all very interesting research and demonstrates how powerful the mind
is over the body. Cramping is still one of the biggest mysteries of our body.
No science is accurate on describing it, but this research was an interesting
read.
Back on the trails I tried my best
to overcome my body’s self defense in the form of cramps. I told myself out
loud that these cramps are just in my mind and that they will stop. It seemed
to work a little bit. I would slow down a bit and then drink or eat something
and get going again. By this part of the race many of the relay teams were
passing me and there was a unique dichotomy between the runners. Most were
familiar with the Ultra community and gave encouragement as they passed, while
some others were oblivious and clearly roadies (Road racers). The roadies would pass
without saying anything and in some cases almost pushing me aside. I was too
tired to be irritated and just focused on keeping my body moving. I was letting
things be the way they are. Then, suddenly, as I was relaxing into a
comfortable stride some beautiful legs appeared in front of me and got me
very excited. It was a girl dressed as a pussy cat and wow! Her costume was
revealing! A sports bra and briefs were the perfect motivation to keep me
moving. Just watching her tail (she was wearing a tail) wagging right in front
of me made the next few hills a piece of cake. I was happy and hoping to have
this motivation for a good while but as soon as it began it was over. I arrived
at the last aid station and she swapped out for another runner on her relay
team and I would not be seeing her again. As I was pondering these thoughts
Adam and Marvin’s voice brought me back to the moment. I was surprised to see
them here since I was expecting them to go on to the finish to wait for me. They
had surprised me here, and it was very welcomed. Adam was cheering for me and
already celebrating with a beer. He told me more cold ones were waiting for me
at the finish. This got me excited too and I couldn’t wait to get the last 5
miles done.
I was off and ready to finish this
race. I looked at my watch and noticed I had an hour and 15 minutes to finish 5
miles in less than 10 hours. My original goal was to finish between a 9 and
9:30, and my secondary goal was to finish in less than 10 hours. There was a
good shot of making at least my second goal happen. I was happy when I realized
this and started pushing myself to get it done. I began to cramp harder and was
eating salt pills like candy. In fact, I was eating the last one so fast that I
choked on it and spit it out. It was of no matter as one of the relay runners
told me there was only a half mile to go to the finish. I had been hearing the
music from the finish line for a good 5 minutes and knowing they were only
another 5 minutes away got me moving faster. I looked at my watch again and I
would have about 5 minutes to spare if I wanted to finish in less than 10
hours. I stepped on the gas and soon found my way into a clearing and the
finish line was in sight. There was a big crowd and the cheers gave me that
wonderful coveted feeling of being supported and admired. The feeling at this
moment is special. To feel the encouragement from others that leads to a great
accomplishment is quite a fantastic feeling. As I crossed the finish line I was
elated but still conscious of the fact that it was a group effort. As the medal
was placed around my neck I was happy I made my time goal of under 10 hours(with 3 minutes to
spare) and the race was officially over for me. I walked with my brother to
congratulate another runner who had just finished her first 50 miler. I told
her she did awesome and that the course was tough for someone to do their first
50. She smiled and congratulated me too.
I would make my way over to the
finish area and wait patiently for Mike to finish. I thanked my crew again and
finally got some beer in me. It was fun watching the rest of the finishers
coming in and cheering them on. Thoughts began to enter my mind. All the
running, sweating, bleeding, and vomiting was over. As I sat on the ground and
looked up at the sky I couldn’t feel anymore alive. The triumph of completing a
task you set out to accomplish is the reward. But the journey to that finish
was more than just that. It was the cement that connected me to my crew and the
new friends I made along the way. Us being out here and living in nature transcends
the mundane environment we encapsulate ourselves in our daily lives. The
outdoors and the adventures we seek bring us back to our roots as a human
animal. Our instincts, our strengths, and our weaknesses are all put out there.
Getting the chance to spend a day connecting with yourself and those around you
is truly a gift. A gift that even Hell can't keep away from you. With that in mind, will I ever stop running? Only when Hell
freezes over, and then I’ll get some ski’s ready.
*Mike would eventually finish his
first 50 miler and would be one of the last official finishers to get a medal.
He crossed the finish line in 13 hours and 14 minutes.
