Race Recap: North Country Trail 50

A year ago, I signed up for what I thought would be my second fifty mile race, and my goal race for 2018.  I chose North Country Trail 50 because I had heard so many great things about it, and when a race sells out the day it opens for registration, it has to be good, right?  In the following two months, I ran Ragnar Michigan with some fellow Michigan Runners, and then the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington D.C.  And then?  Then I took nearly all of November and December off, running only about 50 miles each month.  But, right before Christmas, I won that race entry to Chattanooga 100 and my head started spinning.  I had work to do.  And while I'm not really a "New Year's Resolutions" kind of girl, I do enjoy a fresh, new year and the new possibilities that come with it.  So I made some plans.  I registered for and ran a trail marathon and trail half marathon at Pinckney Trail Weekend in April, the Tie Dye 50k in May, and the Mohican 50 in June.  I figured a couple of strategically placed 50 mile races in my year would get me ready for Chattanooga, and North Country Trail 50 went from my goal race, to a stepping stone.  Also in the spring of this year, I was given the opportunity to represent Simple Hydration and run the Hungerford Trail 50 in late September.  Now my schedule was full: Mohican 50, North Country Trail 50, Hungerford Trail 50, and then Chattanooga 100.  I knew these challenging 50 milers would be tough, but they also served a purpose.  I needed them, physically and mentally, to be ready for my first 100 mile race.  After I came away from Mohican and had shaved off more than two hours from the previous year, I was feeling good.  My recovery only took a few days and then I was back at it, because I had just two months to be ready for North Country Trail 50.

I am not sure where the summer went, but soon enough it was the third week of August.  I had slogged through the heat and humidity of this Michigan summer and had followed my training plan, but this race kind of snuck up on me. With the kids heading back to school last week, I was so busy getting them prepared and ready, I had barely even had time to think about my looming 50 miler.  Maybe that was a good thing!

Just like that, race weekend was here.  I packed my bags and headed north, into unknown territory.  After watching the weather forecast all last week, I knew this race had the potential to be a wet one.  The 50 mile course consists of two loops through Manistee National Forest, and was set to begin at 6:15am on Saturday morning.  Following that start would be the marathoners and finally the half marathoners.  Aid stations were set up to be about every three miles along the course, so I planned to just carry minimal water and provisions in my pack.  From what I had heard, the aid stations were fully stocked with tons of hot and cold foods and drinks and I planned on getting my calories in at those stops.

On Friday night, I met up with my friend, Steve, from Michigan Runners, and we headed to packet pickup.  Let me tell you, they had their system DOWN.  We were in and out of there in less than ten minutes and came away with a t-shirt, a tech shirt, a hoodie, a hat, a water bottle, a coffee mug and a car sticker, all in a North Country bag.  That is some seriously nice race swag for just an $86 entry fee!

My alarm went off at 4:10am on race day.  I quickly got myself ready and out of my hotel room and discovered when I got outside that there was a pretty good thunderstorm going on!  I stopped for a quick coffee and then I headed to the race start.  Within five minutes, the rain had stopped and I was hopeful that that would be the end of it.  The radar looked a little spotty, but it didn't seem like anything major was headed our way. 

I had decided about a week prior to pick up a little voice recorder to use during this race.  I always seem to forget things during these long races and I thought being able to just whip out my little recorder would be an easy way to document everything.  I have a few of the clips thrown in here and there throughout this post, so if you're interested, click the links as you go for a little live action from me along the way.

Audio clip 1

With the rain still lingering, I headed to the start line.  I was quickly informed that the race was delayed 15 minutes, with a new start time of 6:30am, so I headed back to my car to stay dry for as long as possible.  As I got out of my car for the second time to head to the start, I was informed there was another delay with a new start time of 7:00am.  Sigh.  Back to the car.  Again.  At 7:00am I again left my car and headed to the start. Except we weren't starting yet.  Rhonda-Marie Parke was there, talking about being a blind runner and the challenges that presents.  I had listened to her on my favorite podcast as she told her story of running Vol State 500k this year without using a guide runner, and found her very intriguing.

When she was finished, I assumed we'd be starting. but the race director gathered us up for what I am sure was a very difficult speech.  Due to the amount and style of food the race was serving at aid stations, food service licensing had to be obtained for this year's race, and the current delayed start was because the health department was out on the course inspecting each and every aid station.  He couldn't even give us a start time because he didn't know how long it would take to get final approval.  He was almost in tears giving us this news, and I'm sure he was very frustrated to have no control over this situation.  The rain had settled into a light drizzle/sprinkle so we walked around and ran into some more Michigan Runners!  There's always time for photos with MR peeps!

Finally we were told that the new race start would be at 8:35am, 2 hours and 20 minutes after the original start time.  This put a little bit of a spin on things because my race morning routine is usually protein bar, coffee, wait an hour, run the race.  Now it had been more than three hours since breakfast and what to eat, if anything, prior to the race start became an issue.  Also, with the later race start, the finish time became an issue.  With a 14 hour cutoff, the original cutoff for the 50 miler was 8:15pm, in daylight.  With the new start time of 8:35am, the final runners had until 10:35pm to finish.  In the dark.  At a race where no headlamps were suggested.  And, you know, as I was packing, I looked at my headlamp and considered bringing it. But the race was supposed to start in the light and end in the light and I opted to not grab it.  Lesson learned.  Even if I managed to finish in 12 hours, 8:30pm in the woods this time of year can get pretty dark.  Luckily, Matt, one of the Michigan Runners, happened to have one with him.  He was running the marathon distance and wouldn't be needing it and he offered it to me.  THANK YOU, MATT!  There were several other ultra runners without headlamps and the race director promised he'd have them waiting out at the aid stations for those who needed them later in the race.

Finally, at 8:30am, we all shuffled into the starting chute, and stood silently while Oh, Canada and The Star-Spangled Banner played.  Then, I strategically placed myself not too close to the front, but not too far back as to get stuck behind some of the slower runners on the single-track course, and it was READY, SET, GO!  This race start was different from any other ultra I have done.  Usually, there are a few friends and family members on the sidelines, along with a few race volunteers and its a very low-key start.  Today, though, because of the delays, all of the marathoners and half marathoners and their families and other bystanders were there to cheer us on.  It was a pretty excitement-filled start!

The first mile was a short little loop on a wider track, which gave us all a little time to settle in and find a good  pace.  I hadn't really looked at the course map too much and was pleasantly surprised when we passed back through the crowd at the starting line once again.  I think for a few moments there we all felt like celebrities!

After that, it was time to get down to business.  I had been following a tall guy for about two miles because I liked his pace, but around Mile 4 I had to pass him because he was catching every tree branch with his head and whipping them back at me behind him.  Adios, dude!  Shortly after that, the first male marathoner streaked past all of us, and we cheered him on.  He was flying and went on to finish in 3:04:41.  HOLY CRAP!  The first aid station was around Mile 5, and while I was disappointed that they didn't have any peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I did enjoy the grilled cheese straight from the grill.  Around Mile 6, the first female marathoner came past us, also going very fast, and she finished in 3:30:40.  I'm sorry, I do not comprehend.  That is SMOKING fast on trails.  I was feeling pretty good and was right where I wanted to be as far as pace goes. Here's another little update from the trail...

Audio Clip 2

As I continued on, it warmed up a little but the rain was still coming and going and the forest was a little hazy.  After seeing the bear poop, I got a little paranoid and every tree stump or dark spot caught my eye, as I was sure I was going to just stumble upon a bear, or worse yet, bear cubs.  There were quite a few marathoners passing now, and even though I knew they were on a different mission than I was, it wasn't a very good feeling to know that I was going so much slower than them.  Oh well, eye on the prize, right?  The terrain kept going back and forth from dirt and leaf-covered trails in the forest, to sandy, brighter areas full of greenery.  It was quite beautiful and I couldn't help but take a few pictures.

I was thoroughly enjoying all of the delicious foods at the aid stations, but was trying to just grab and go as to not waste too much time at these stops.  My right hip had been bothering me on my higher mileage runs lately and by Mile 12 it was starting to become just a little bit noticeable, but I was still moving pretty well.

Audio Clip 3

And then things took a turn. I'm not sure what happened but I got into a serious funk.  I wasn't feeling great, everyone I knew in this race was way up ahead of me, and the course had gotten a lot hillier.  I was completely soaked from rain and sweat and who knows what else and I was really grumpy.  I decided to take a salt cap and finally made it to the next aid station.

Audio Clip 4

As I made my way down the trail, I found myself following this guy with trekking poles stuck in his pack.  So I struck up a conversation.  Did he plan to use the poles? Had he used them before? And then he told me that just two weeks ago he had completed Bigfoot 200.  Sweeeeet!  He hadn't run  step since that race but he somehow thought a little 50 miler would be a good choice as his next run.  See how crazy we ultra runners are?!  He was moving at a good pace and I stuck with him for a while. 

When we came into the next aid station, I thought we were at Mile 20.5, but they told me it was actually 21.5 and we had just three more miles to go and we'd be done with the first loop.  Bonus!

That cheered me up quite a bit and I happily bounced down the trail.  But then I realized I was approaching another aid station and I thought there was some sort of mix up.  Did I really have three more miles until this loop was finished?  The volunteers assured me there was only 1.5 miles left to go and I'd be done with this loop.  Whew!  I had a quick cup of cold water, as the previous two aid stations had run out of water (really?) and carried on.  This last little section took us up to the highest point in the park via a sandy trail.  It was still misty and foggy and there wasn't much to be seen, so I made my way back down the hill and headed in the direction of the cheering I could hear in the distance. 

And then I made my way through the crowd at the start/finish and was greeted with cheers from friends and other onlookers and headed out for the second loop.  The countdown was on!

Audio Clip 5

After the short out and back loop, I stopped at the first aid station.  Several people were changing into dry clothes, but as it was still misting and raining off and on and I was already a mess, I opted to just stay gross.  My feet were dry and I didn't want to mess with things if they were fine as they were.  There were a couple of chairs at this aid station and I decided to take a couple of extra minutes to sit and eat and regroup.  I grabbed some Coke and a cup of hot Ramen noodles and plopped down. Boy, did that feel good.  Shortly after that, a girl plopped down next to me.  She said, "I was totally judging you for sitting down in that chair and then I decided it looked like a really good idea, so I'm joining you."  Judge away! Haha!  (Please note how soaking wet my clothes and body are.)

I took off from that aid station at around 5 hours and 47 minutes into the race, which left me plenty of time to finish within my goal time of 12.5 hours.  I was looking forward to this second loop, as it would be only those of us running the 50 miler out there and we were all in it together.  My hip was really starting to hurt, but oddly, only if I walked.  This gave me added motivation to keep on running, so I tried to walk only on the steep uphill sections.  With so many less people out on the course it got really quiet and actually a little boring.  I decided to turn on an audiobook for a while to get me through the next few miles.  I was counting down to the finish, but I still had 20 miles to go and I knew there was a lot of time left on my feet. 

The next couple of aid stations came and went.  I sat at each of them in their nice red chairs and drank some coke and had a quick bite to eat.  Aside from my hip pain, I was feeling pretty good. 

There weren't any mountain tops or caves or wild horses in this race, but it was beautiful and every time I stopped for a moment to snap a picture, the runners near me would comment on how they thought it was so amazing to be out there.  It really is a special feeling knowing that you're in the woods with strangers, but you're all there together, loving it, despite the ups and downs of the day.

At Mile 40, the sun decided to show it's face for a few glorious minutes and I just had to document that.

The sun was low in the sky and I knew that soon it would be gone.  I had ten miles to go and a little less than three hours to do it in to meet my goal, and I was down in the dumps.  I decided to phone a friend.  I've never called someone mid-race before, but I was lonely and I needed a pick-me-up.  I decided to call my dad, and he happened to pick up in the middle of his dinner.  It was so nice to hear his voice and I totally lost it.  I was trying not to let him hear me cry but I don't think I did a very good job.  He was there with my mom and grandma and cousins and they all sent me well wishes and cheered me on, and despite my tears I was glad that I had called.  I didn't want to quit, but I did want to be done.  I refocused and went on down the trail. 

Audio Clip 6

By Mile 46.5, my whole body was hurting.  It hurt to walk and it hurt to run.  One thing I always tell myself and others in this situation is, if it hurts to walk and it hurts to run, just run-you'll get there faster!  I was trying to run as much as I could but it was getting dark quickly now and by Mile 47.5 I decided it was time to get out my borrowed headlamp.  I didn't want to trip and fall in the last two miles and I could barely see where my feet were landing.  As I came up to the last aid station, I must have looked horrid.  The man standing there asked me if I was okay.  I might have lied a little when i told him I was and took off for the last 1.5 miles.  When I came out of the woods and turned to go up the sandy hill once again, I passed Steve and his pacer just ahead of me.  If only I had known they were so close!  I think running with anyone in those last few miles would've made a big difference.  I hit the top and went right back down and I could hear the cheers from the finish line.  In less than a mile I would be there; this would be over.  I got a little emotional that it was really going to be over and then I rallied myself to get to the finish.  I have never been happier to hear my name announced at the finish line of a race!  The announcer said my finish time was 12:02, but that sounded strange to me.  How much different had my GPS really been?!  That was a huge PR for me and I was excited.  They hung the huge finisher's medal around my neck, and it was HEAVY.  Although I don't run races for medals, this race boasts the largest ultra marathon medal in the country.

When the final results were posted, my official time was listed as 12:13:45, still a PR of 26 minutes.  I'll take it! To be honest, I was hoping for a little bit faster time, but overall I'm content with this finish. 

Every race is an adventure and every race is a learning experience. I love running through places I've never been before and I love being able to go places only reachable on foot.  This forest was filled with giant white mushrooms, and bright green mossy balls, and tiny neon orange flowers.  There were huge pine trees and a million ferns and fresh new oak trees sprouting.  There was so much to explore and I am thankful for my day in the woods. 

And my fellow ultra runners?  Well, they are unbeatable.  It is completely uplifting to come into an aid station to cheers from people you've been running with all day because they are truly happy you're still going.  Unless you're an elite athlete, ultra running isn't about winning.  Everyone is out there for their own reasons, on their own paths, but there is a camaraderie that connects all of us. 

North Country Trail was a great race with awesome volunteers and amazing aid stations. I can see why so many runners go back year after year to run these trails.  And hold onto your hats because the RD announced that next year there will be three half marathons, a marathon, a 50k, a 50 mile and a 100 mile option.  Something for everyone!

 "Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt." ~John Muir

Race Recap: Red Moon Trail 25k

Last week, I heard about an after dark trail race not too far from where I live.  The race offered 5k, 15k, and 25k options.  As it turned out, my tapering schedule called for 16 miles on Saturday, and a little nighttime trail adventure sounded a lot more appealing than another early Saturday morning run on my all-too-familiar roads.  So, for the bargain price of just $35, I registered for the Red Moon Trail 25k in Midland.

I always get to races super early, and today was no exception.  I love just hanging out and watching all of the people do what they do.  And what, do you ask, do they do?  Well, let me tell you what I saw...
1. The people walking around with their hydration belts fully loaded and their headlamps on their heads at 7pm for a 9 pm race start.
2. The group of ladies who poured out of a van wearing matching shirts and glow in the dark necklaces.
3. The dad with two bananas stuck into the corner of his windshield, helping his daughter pin her bib on for the 5k they're running together.
4. The older guy and his wife sitting in camp chairs beside their truck-he keeps tying and re-tying his shoes and she's working on a knitting project.
5. The guy wearing flip flops, sprawled out in his driver's seat with a trucker's cap over his face, catching a quick nap before the race start.
6. The lady with the matching black Yorkie puff ball dogs, walking laps around the parking lot, left me wondering what happens to the dogs when she starts her race.
7. One strange woman wearing a tank top with an attached dog collar around her neck and a leash hanging down was quite a sight to see.
8. The local high school cross country team who are mostly here because their coach told them they'd better show up.
9. The people who wander the parking lots, searching for familiar faces.
10. The token guy in the kilt.

Amid all of this action, I headed to the tent to pick up my bib and pins.  There I found fellow runners, Megan, Jennifer and Bernie, who were there volunteering.  Very cool!  We chatted awhile about this race and future race plans and then I headed back to my car to get ready.  Soon, I flagged down Steve and Matt, two internet friends I hadn't met in real life yet, and Jennifer, who was there to run the 15k, a distance PR for her.  We hung out a while and then I ran into fellow runner Sharon, and her husband, who were both there to work the aid station.  I had no idea I'd know so many people there!

The 5k was set to start at 9pm, which included Matt, and the rest of us hung out while they assembled in the woods and listened to final instructions.  Before the 15k and 25k crowd headed into the woods for our own start, we were able to see the winner of the 5k come in at under 17:00!  That is FAAAAST for trails in the dark!

As we gathered near the start line, we received our final instructions, which mostly consisted of not squatting in the woods because there was poison ivy everywhere and no one wants THAT you know where!  Noted!  I turned around a final time before the start and faced a sea of headlights.  This was going to be fun!

The race consisted of five 5k loops for the 25k, with the end of every loop passing through the start/finish tent.  I decided to settle in and the the speedier 15k runners take off ahead of me.  I had started the race with Steve but soon I let him go on ahead of me as well.  I hadn't anticipated so much of the trail to be sand, and if you've never run in sand before, well, it's an experience.  These sandy trails were extra-special because they were filled with the roots of the trees in this Midland City Forest and after tripping a couple of times and then watching the girl in front of me totally crash, I trained my headlamp in on the trail and paid very close attention.  Every 5k loop, runners passed through the one and only aid station twice.  I said hi to Sharon every time I passed and the volunteers were all having a rocking good time.  Along with water, gatorade and gels, there were also cookies, chips and two kinds of beer.  What more could you ask for?  At the finish if the first loop, I came through the tent, and the crowd was huge because most of the 5k runners were hanging out and cheering us on.  It was a huge boost for me and I waved to Matt, and carried on back into the woods. 

Back up along the sandy trails, dodging roots and occasional low-hanging limbs, and then through the aid station once, and then again, and I was feeling good.  In fact, I was thinking about how good I was feeling when all of the sudden, WHAM.  I hit the ground.  Hard.  I seem to have a habit of falling once per race, but I'm usually able to just roll with it and pop back up.  Not this time.  I had landed on my whole right side and it took me a minute to recover.  Two people watched it happen and they helped me to my feet and brushed me off.  I thanked them and sent them on their way, shook the cobwebs off and took off again.  My hip didn't feel quite right, and my knee might be bleeding, my right arm was throbbing and I was sooo dirty.  I finished that loop a little down in the dumps, but still came through the tent smiling and headed out for loop three. 

My confidence was a little shaky and I was definitely going much slower this time around.  When I got to the aid station, I asked Sharon to dump water on my hands and I cleaned myself up a bit.  Then I decided to get my head out of my butt and get back in the game.  I headed out into the darkness and got my groove back. By the time I finished loop three, I was ready to rock.

I knew loop four would be the quietest loop.  A lot of the 15k runners had finished, complete darkness had settled in, and it was pretty peaceful.  I realized at this point, that I had passed several people but no one had passed me.  I didn't know how many people were even ahead of me running the 25k distance.  When I finished loop four and came through the tent, most of the crowd was gone, but I didn't care.  I had one loop left and I was going for it.  Back into the woods I went, through the sand, over the roots, following the little LED lights that now, by this fifth lap, were just random dots of light along the trail.  Through the aid station once, and then again, and I started thinking that maybe I could place in this race.  Where was everyone?  I couldn't be that far back, could I?  I told myself I had a chance as long as I didn't fall again.  I was being very vigilant, never taking my eyes off the trail right in front of me.  And then, a mile from the finish, WHAM.  I did it again. Are you kidding me?!  This time, I was able to roll, which was mostly a good thing, except I had tucked my water bottle into the back of my belt and that did NOT feel good to roll over on top of.  I felt like I had been kicked in my kidney.  And if I had gotten a little dirty during my first fall, this time I was FILTHY.  Oh well.  One mile to go and I wasn't going to let someone pass me at this point.  I came into the tent and across the finish line and I was done.  DONE!  And there was Megan, putting a medal around my neck.

Matt had stuck around for the finish and Steve had finished a little bit before me and was there, too. 

An Instagram friend, Aidalys, had also mentioned that she would be there, and she came up and introduced herself.  We took a pic, because of course we had to-that's Instagram protocol, right?  And she also offered me an ice cold beer which I happily accepted. 

I kept apologizing to everyone for being so dirty, but they didn't seem to mind.  If you think I'm exaggerating, check me out:

After a long wait for the awards ceremony, it was finally announced that I had placed second female overall!  I couldn't believe it.  I had signed up for this race as a night training run, and I had never expected to do this well.  There weren't that many other runners, but hey, second place is second place, right?

I was so thankful for Steve and Aidalys for sticking around so late with me.  I'm pretty sure I'll be bumping into them at many more races in the future!  I had brought clean clothes to change into before my drive home, but I was soooo dirty with no way to clean up, so I just threw myself in my car and sat in my own filth for the hour drive home.  I pulled into my driveway a little past 2am, and when I stepped onto the porch, I took one last look down.

And then, I took the most glorious shower ever.  Post-race showers are pretty darn hard to beat!  The next day, my muscles weren't sore, but my hip was hurting enough to be annoying and my right elbow is bruised and there's a bruise on my forearm.  My right knee ended up faring better than expected and aside from a little gravel rash on my thigh, my leg looks pretty good. 

After the Mohican 50, it was a little hard to get back into my training plan and my long weekend runs were getting a bit monotonous, but this race was just what I needed to feel like myself again.  Up next: North Country Trail 50 in less than two weeks!

Race Recap: 2018 Mohican 50

One year ago, I ran my first 50 mile ultramarathon: The Mohican Trail 50. It was the most difficult, most painful thing I had ever done in my life. I spent the final 15 miles of that race walking, and moving slower than walking, and telling myself this was the dumbest thing I had ever attempted. I called my husband when it was over and told him that, no matter what I said, he was not allowed to let me sign up for another 50 miler ever again.

  By the next morning, I knew I had to do it again.

In July, 2017, I ran Grand Island 50k for the second time.  In August, after hearing about a 50 mile race here in Michigan called North Country, I registered.  I had a whole year to get ready for it, and a busy fall racing season quickly approaching.  In September, I ran Ragnar Michigan as a member of a 12-person team.  In October, I traveled to Washington D.C. to run the Marine Corps Marathon.  When it was over, I was burned OUT.  I needed a break.  I ran barely 50 miles in November, and in December, there was a period of two weeks when I didn't run at all.

And then, my favorite podcast, East Coast Trail and Ultra, announced that they were hosting a live episode where listeners could call in and ask questions and they'd be giving away some free race entries.  While I sat at my daughter's gymnastics practice, I dialed.  And redialed.  In fact, I dialed nearly 300 times.  And then, Ryan answered the phone.  Holy shit!  My question?  How do I transition from running a 50 miler to running a 100 miler?  After they gave me some advice on training and nutrition, they told me that they only had ten free race entries and I was the eleventh caller.  Boooooo.  But then, Sean piped in and said if I was interested in running a 100 miler in 2018, he'd give me a free entry to the Chattanooga 100.  And I said yes.  Merry Christmas to me!

My thoughts started spinning.  100 miles?  Had I lost my mind?  I knew I had a lot of work to do.  Not running, particularly during the holiday season, had caused me to gain nearly 20 pounds.  Plus, I had never run more than 50 miles and I was still a little shell-shocked from that!  I decided that North Country 50 in August wouldn't be enough to prepare me, and Mohican started whispering.  Before long, I knew I had to go back. 

I decided to make Mohican my springtime goal race, and training began in February.  I spent most of January running in the snow and ice and subzero temperatures of Michigan, but in February I got down to business.  In March, I paced a friend at the Martian Half Marathon in Dearborn, Michigan, in April I attended Trail Weekend in Pinckney, Michigan and ran both the half and full marathon races, and in May, I ran the Tie Dye 50k in Ohio. 

Just like that, my Mohican 50 weekend was here.  I had run in snow, wind, ice, humidity, heat, and rain.  I had trained on trails and dirt roads and even a little pavement.  I had managed to drop more than 15 pounds and had focused on nutrition.  I felt ready for anything. 

Friday night at Mohican is a bit of a family reunion.  While there are always new runners, many runners return year after year for this race.  There is a 1,000 mile club for those who have run the Mohican 100 at least 10 times, and one man, Ron Ross, has completed the 100 miler 22 times!  I found my friend, Leanne, who would be attempting the 100 mile course, and we talked strategy and logistics and about how this race has such a great vibe. 

After the race meeting, where we were given last minute instructions and advice, I headed back to my hotel.  It was time for a final check of my gear to make sure I was ready for the morning.

I crawled into bed around 9:30 and texted a little bit with my daughter before bed.  I most definitely did have a busy Saturday planned!

My alarm went off at 3:50am on race day.  After a very limited taper week leading up to the race, I was ready for some MILES.  I navigated the windy roads to Mohican State Park in the dark, and soon there was  growing trail of taillights all headed to the start line.  After parking, I headed to the starting area.  Except I wasn't exactly sure where that was. Soon there were several of us standing together, not sure which direction we should go.  Finally, we made a group decision to follow a paved camp road and around a little bend, we found it.  I applied a little extra last minute bug spray, left my drop bag in the designated area, and headed over to chat with racers before the start.  It was different this year for me-I wasn't the new kid, I was the veteran.  And while many of the runners were nervous and anxious, I just felt calm and excited.  I wasn't going into this race thinking about running 50 miles.  I was running to the first aid station.  And then I'd run to the next one. I thought if I broke the race down into 4-7 mile stretches, it would be very doable. 

The race director came over the loudspeaker and announced that he had good news:  It wasn't going to be 88 degrees as it had been predicted, it was only going be 82 degrees.  Oh great!  That is MUCH cooler!  SHOULD I BRING A JACKET?  A quick pre-race photo and then we all shuffled in close to the start line, he said go, and we were off!

The early morning was comfortable, and we quickly fell into a long line on the single track that leads into the woods.  I was moving a little slower than I would have liked, but now that I have a little experience under my belt, I knew better than to complain.  I knew in the later stages of the race I'd be happy to be moving at this pace!  The first four miles flew by, and just like that I came to Gorge Overlook, the first aid station. 

I still had plenty of water and wasn't ready for food yet, so I took my token orange slice picture and continued on my way.  "See ya in 27 miles!"

I think having that first aid station so early is great, because it really helps break up the tight pack of runners and I could finally stretch out a little and have more control over my pace.  The terrain was filled with rocks and roots and we joked that we were sure the forest was beautiful if we could take our eyes off the trail long enough to look at it without tripping and falling!

A short four miles later, I came to the second aid station: Fire Tower.  I decided to grab a couple of pb&j squares and had my pack filled a little.  The next aid station would be six miles away and it was already starting to warm up out there.

 I was excited for the next section because I would descend down into the canyon and feel the water falling from above.  It was much cooler down there and everyone was taking pictures and standing in the waterfall.  I remember last year when I left this area, thinking that I would never again see this little spot, and here I was back in it the very next year. 

After some steep climbing back up out of the canyon, I went back down this looooong wooden staircase.

And then watched a couple fly fishing in the river.

I was still feeling good, running at a slow but comfortable pace, when I passed a group of people walking on a flat section of the course.  We were probably only at Mile 13, and I found it  little offensive when he called me stupid for running.  Maybe I thought he was a little stupid for walking on a flat section so early in a race!  I kept up my pace and he was soon far behind me. 

The next aid station was Covered Bridge.  This one always reminds me of a little oasis tucked into the trees down by the river.  I tend to linger a little longer than I should at this one because the next section is a difficult one.  I had my pack filled and again snacked on pb&j squares, drank a little ginger ale, and took off. 

It was seven miles to the next aid station and it was filled with a ton of climbing.  I was pleasantly surprised that I was getting uphill quite easily and was able to take the downhills much quicker than last year.  I passed several people during this section and even stopped to say hello to the little gnome friends who watch us pass.

I came into the Hickory Ridge aid station at Mile 20 and was still feeling really good. 

I spent almost no time here at all, just had my pack filled and once again grabbed a couple of pb&j squares.  It was just seven miles until the first loop was finished and I was looking forward to having that under my belt.  My quads were feeling slightly fatigued, but I was in good spirits and took a little time to goof around all by myself. 

I can't tell you what a strange feeling it is to be cruising down a single track trail all by yourself and feel sad that you've already run almost 27 miles and you only have 23 miles left to go.  I mean, I was seriously getting emotional about it!

Around 12:30pm, I finished the first loop, where I hit the aid station for some more pb&j squares, a few orange slices and had my pack refilled.  I dug through my drop bag and found and reapplied my bug spray, and then sat for just a minute to gather myself.  I had planned on changing socks and maybe shoes, but everything felt good and I didn't want to mess with it.  It was getting pretty warm by this point, and some of the runners looked downright HOT, but I felt that I was managing quite well. 

So, off I went, through the campground, across the bridge and back onto the trails.

I didn't see anyone for the first mile or so, and then I passed a couple of runners.  After that, it was pretty quiet, and in no time at all I was approaching Gorge Overlook for the second time.

This aid station was where I just about lost it last year.  I had stumbled my way into it, begged for a chair and threw myself down.  I was at a very low point and the nicest aid station volunteer had talked me into resting and having something to eat and then I reluctantly had gotten back to my feet and headed out.  THIS year, I trotted in, grabbed a pb&j square, waved, and trotted right back out with a smile on my face. I was feeling good.

There were just four miles to the Fire Tower aid station.  The miles were flying by and I was still running the flats and downhills and getting up the climbs pretty easily.  Where was everyone?  Why wasn't anyone passing me?  On occasion, I came up behind a runner, but they'd quickly step aside and I'd thank them and keep on trucking.  I was now starting to pass not only the 50 mile runners, but some 100 mile runners, who had started an hour earlier than me, and also some marathoners, who had started their race at noon.  I was vaguely aware that I was waiting to blow up.  I was 34 miles into a 50 mile race and I couldn't believe that aside from a couple slight falls, my race was going very well.  I knew that at Fire Tower, the 100 mile runners would continue on to complete their second 27 mile loop, while the 50 mile runners would veer off on our shorter 23 mile loop.  I guess I wasn't thinking, but when I asked how far it was to the next aid station and was told it was 2.5 miles away, my jaw dropped.  Just 2.5 miles to Covered Bridge?!  Sweeeeet!  Again I grabbed a couple pb&j squares and headed off to the right, alone, while the 100 milers carried on straight ahead.  This part of the course is very quiet and the trails are fairly tight.  I didn't see another soul the entire time, and if I hadn't been very consciously following the orange flags, I would've thought I was on the wrong path.  At one point, the trail seems to end where trees and their roots cover the path, followed by a steep drop off, but down I went!

Once down below, the trail follows a little stream and there are multiple wooden bridges and stone-covered paths to cross.  It is very scenic and peaceful and is one of my favorite parts of the course.  Soon I could hear traffic from above, and after a little climb, Covered Bridge, the little oasis, was in sight.

Right away a volunteer grabbed my pack from me and while he refilled it, I had some orange slices and more pb&j slices.  There were plenty of other options but that's what sounded good to me and I stuck with it.  My quads were starting to become noticeable, but my feet felt great and my mind was in a good place.  I was ready for that long climb leaving Covered Bridge.

Almost right away, I came up behind a 100 mile runner.  He was hiking the climbs and running the downs and he was going slightly slower than I would have preferred, but I decided to follow him awhile.  We approached another 100 mile runner who was clearly struggling and going much slower, and while he let the man in front of me pass, he cut me off and wouldn't let me by.  I tried several times to pass and every time he'd speed up just to stay ahead of me.  I was annoyed.  Within a half mile, there was a lineup behind this guy.  We were all annoyed.  Finally, he stepped aside, pretended to tie his shoe and I blew past him.  Those miles were my slowest of the race and I wasn't happy about it.  I decided to pick it up a little bit, as I was feeling pretty good still, and soon I was alone again on the trail.  This section is filled with tons of roots, so I made sure to pay attention.  I didn't want a bad fall this late in the race!

I once again ran past the forest gnomes up on the ridge and then descended again.  It was thundering now and I couldn't think of anything better than an afternoon storm.  It was hot and humid and I almost felt sorry for the people out for a hike through the park.  The thunder continued for nearly an hour, but no rain fell.  Such a tease.  And then, just like that, I was running into Hickory Ridge aid station.  Running!  I had my pack refilled and grabbed my final pb&j squares and knew that in seven short miles I'd be crossing that finish line.

The first half of this section is so green and so beautiful it almost doesn't seem real. 

I was soaking these last few miles in.  I was starting to feel tired, but not overly so.  I passed a few 100 milers and 50 milers on these trails, and many marathoners.  This was definitely a difficult marathon course and I think it got the best of more than a few runners.  And then I was running through the campground, waving at kids wearing shirts that said "Make today GREAT!" and "SHINE" and was a little sad my kids weren't there to be a part of this.  But I gave some high-fives and continued on.  Up a long, climbing road, and down around the lake, and then, THERE IT WAS!

I turned left and headed toward the finish line.  I kept looking behind me for anyone approaching.  I didn't want to be passed at this point!  I had gone the whole loop without being passed and I was willing to fight for my position. But no one came.  I was holding back the tears as I made the final turns and headed for the finish line.  I had done it. 50 miles.  And I had done it well. 

After last year's finish time of 14.52:23, My goal for this year was to finish in 13 hours.  With a finish time of 12:39:04, I had surpassed my goal.  I had done two loops through Mohican State Park, and had taken the elevation in stride.

And then?  Then all I wanted to do was sit down.  So I sat.  For a long time.  I stared at my disgusting legs and feet.

I snuggled with a very friendly dog who didn't mind that I smelled horrendously.

Fun fact: They purchased 22 kegs of beer for this race weekend.  It only seemed right that I should muster the strength to get up and go get one.  So I did.  And then I sat right back down.

I watched the leaders have their pictures taken up on the podium.  I even saw one female holding a bag attached to an IV who had placed in the Top 5.  You thought I was kidding when I said it was hot, didn't you?  I watched more finishers come in.  I watched people dunk themselves fully clothed into ice baths.  And, in case you're wondering, a 50 mile race is over 98,000 steps.  Ha!

And then, just like that, it was over.  I needed a shower, I needed some food, I needed to sleep, and then I needed to get home.  The next day was Father's Day and it was filled with family.  And there was one little guy who had missed his mama. 

People always ask me how I'm able to run long distances like this.  They also ask me why I run long distances like this.  How do I run ultras?  I train for them.  And I will continue to train for them to better myself.  I put in the work.  Why do I run ultras?  I have seen beautiful places on my runs-places that can't be seen by car, or even in pictures.  To truly see a place, I believe you have to be IN it; you have to experience it firsthand.  So, why do I run ultras?  What's better than spending a day in the woods?  I can't think of many things.  There was just one race photo that was posted of me, but it's the only one I need.  This is me, 18 miles into this 50 mile race, just a little while after a man had told me I was stupid, and I was having a complete BLAST.