Race Recap: Tie Dye 50k

A year ago, I took a four hour road trip to run the Tie Dye 50k in the little town of Yellow Springs, Ohio, through John Bryan State Park.  I knew a few people who would also be running it, and for the bargain price of just $45, what did I have to lose?  The trails were beautiful, and it was a great day, despite torrential rains, thunder and lightning, and getting lost not once, but twice, in the same spot on both loops.  The race is advertised as 32 miles, but with my apparent inability to follow course markings, I ended the race with nearly 35 miles.  Despite the soggy, slippery trails and the extra mileage, I managed to finish 6th female overall, with a time of 7 hours and 13 minutes.  It was the perfect springtime race.

This year, when I began planning my year of running, I decided to go back to the Tie Dye 50k.  The Pinckney Trail Weekend combined with this race proved to be great training for the Mohican 50 which I ran last year and plan to run again this year.  So, I forked over my $45 entry fee, booked a cheap hotel as close as I could get (which was still 45 minutes away) and I was set.

Race weekend finally arrived and I made the solo trip four hours south.  Unlike last year, I only knew one other person running the 50k this year-my cousin's cousin, Todd, who lives near Cincinnati.  After a quiet Friday night and a nice dinner, I laid out all of my gear, set my alarms, and drifted off to sleep.

4:25am came and I popped out of bed.  I dressed, lubed my body, braided my hair, and made some quick hotel room coffee for my drive to the race start.  The moon was big and bright as I made the drive into Yellow Springs, and the sun was just rising as I reached John Bryan State Park.  I headed to packet pickup and received my bib, pins, and tech shirt, and then watched as a small group took off on their race, opting for the one hour early start.  Temperatures were predicted to be near 87 degrees, and the early morning was already thick with humidity.  The campground was full this morning, and people were in various stages of their morning routines.

I headed back to my car to make final preparations, applying a liberal amount of bug spray because with the humidity had come the mosquitoes.  Then, it was time to head to the start line, where I met up with Todd. 

There was a short meeting discussing a last minute course change because part of a trail that had been just a little wet two days prior had become a rushing river due to the previous day's rainfall.  I hoped everything was well-marked because you know how good I am at getting lost!  And then, without any fanfare, the race director said, "Get out of here!", and we were off. 

I remember last year, that it took nearly ten miles for the pack to thin out.  When I got lost, there were actually about 40 of us that got lost!  We had been in a tightly packed line and ALL of us had missed the turn.  This year, within two miles, the crowd had thinned considerably.  There were about six of us running together, including Todd and me.  We chatted as we ran, discussing our last races and what we had planned for the future.  I made friends with the guy behind me as well, Kenny was his name, and he told me he was contemplating his first 100 miler this year.  As always, there was a lot to talk about, and the first few miles flew by.  There were some pretty big mud pits as we went, and everyone had wet shoes and muddy legs right from the start.  But hey, every once in a while there was a random board thrown out there and we could try to stay a little less than soaked.

After mile 6, I started paying attention to flags.  I didn't want to get caught up in conversation and miss the turn as I had last year (TWICE).  Within another mile, we had found the turn and were on the right path.  No extra mileage for me this year!  We continued on and headed out on a little out-and-back portion of the route, and it was nice to see the runners ahead of us, and those behind us and share words of encouragement.  I noticed around this time that I was completely drenched in sweat already.  It was much hotter than I had been used to running in, and the humidity was so high everything looked hazy and steamy. 

Then came mile 9.  We were warned that this would be a good place to slow our pace and be careful.  The trail was a downward climb over loose rocks, which were slippery from rain and mud.  I definitely didn't want to fall at this point, so I took my time.  I guess I was being overly cautious because by the time I made it to the bottom of the trail, I was alone.  I didn't really mind, though, because it was beautiful.  This part of the trail ran right next to the raging river and was filled with huge, moss-covered rocks.

Nearing mile 10, there is a very steep and rocky climb back up out of the valley.  There wasn't much running in mile 9, but the scenery made up for it.

After all the ups and downs of the last mile or so, I came to the first aid station at mile 10.  There had been a couple of water stops earlier in the course, but this was the first one with food.  Runners actually pass through here four times throughout the race, so it was well-stocked.  I munched on watermelon and took my orange slice picture-just a half-to my dismay.

I grabbed some Gatorade to go, and headed out on a little 3-4 mile loop. 

This part of the course is a little bit different.  After heading down a nice wide path, runners follow a skinny trail through an open field, before ducking back into the woods onto a single track trail.  Then, it spits you out again into an open field before sending you deep into the forest.  Those open fields were getting hot, and it wasn't even 10am yet!

After the open fields, the trail was tight as it went through the forest.  There were tons of little water crossings, most with bridges or rocks to balance on.  This part of the course seemed wetter, and more untouched, and it smelled magnificent.  All of the trees and flowers were in full bloom and the air was thick with the sweet scent. 

I knew that I was nearing the waterfall-I remembered it from last year because as I had turned to look at it, I totally crashed and fell.  I made a mental note to stop first this year before looking!  The river was much higher than last year, but it was still pretty cool to be on the bridge over the waterfall!

After a few more rocky sections, it was time to follow the trail and head back onto the wide track that leads back to the aid station. 

The trail was wide and flat and I was feeling good. Despite how good I was feeling, I found myself walking.  I just had no desire to be running.  And then I thought, "I am really bored!"  I actually texted Jason and told him I was bored.  THAT'S how bored I was.  His response?  "What? You're in the woods!  You love being in the woods!"  And I do.  But I didn't right at that moment.  I just wasn't feeling it.  I decided that in a mile, when I got back to the aid station, I would drop.  I walked the last mile out of there, and said goodbye to the big, old tree that I had remembered from the prior year.

As I walked up to the aid station, I wasn't sad or upset.  I told them my number and that I was dropping and asked if there was a shortcut back to the starting line.  They didn't ask me why I was dropping, and I didn't offer an explanation.  One of the volunteers was heading back for more supplies, and he offered to give me a ride.  I got back to my car, changed all of my clothes and washed my legs and headed for home.

I could tell you that once I got on the road, I regretted my decision.  Or that when I got home I wondered what I had done. Or that once I slept on it I wished I could take it back.  But none of those things are true.  I am not sad or angry or embarrassed by my decision.  I had just decided that after 14 miles, I was done.  And I don't think there is anything wrong with making a decision like that.  I run trails for the challenge and the adventure and for the fun of it.  On that day, at that time, I just wasn't feeling it.  There is a time to push yourself, a time to slog through the worst parts of a run to get to the victory, but there is also a time to know when to say when.  Sure, I could've stayed out there another five hours and completed the race, but my heart wasn't in it, and I'm leaving it at that.

I made the four hour drive home, filled my belly with some yummy mexican food, and snuggled with the cat and watched the chickens out in the yard before sunset. 

And today?  Today was Sunday.  It was filled with family, and celebration, and pouring rain, and a nice seven mile run, and my heart was in it.

Race Recap: Pinckney Trail Weekend No Wimps Challenge

Man, was it a long winter.  I'd like to tell you that I enjoyed my time by hibernating and completely avoiding the long, frigid winter here in Michigan, but that's not the case.  December and January were lighter months, but then I ramped my training back up.

There was a 38 mile group run, with temps hovering near zero degrees, to raise awareness for NEDA...

There was a snowshoe race in subzero temperatures in Traverse City, Michigan after that...

There was the epic overnight trip to Colorado where I tried, and failed, to summit a 14er in horrific conditions...

And there was the Tomoka Marathon, a road marathon, in Florida.

After the pain of pounding the roads for 26.2 miles subsided, I set my eyes on April.  Finally, we were coming out of the winter nonsense.  Evening runs were filled with sunsets peeking through tall trees, and I no longer had to wear two layers of pants to survive a run.

Then, just like that Pinckney Trail Weekend was here.

Last year, I ran the half marathon on Saturday and the full marathon on Sunday in this series.  Even though I had just about killed myself in the half marathon and had to run the full marathon on trashed legs, I remember being just a little bit jealous of those runners who were going the full 50k distance.  So, of course, this year I went back to do just that: Saturday, half marathon and Sunday, 50k.

Although it had rained every day in the week leading up to the race, Saturday morning was nothing but blue skies.

Now, don't let that sunshine fool you-it was CHILLY.  I sat in my car as long as I could and headed to the start line with just five minutes to go.

After a few last minute reminders about the course, we started in waves.  For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to be in the first wave. Oops.  I played it smarter this year and didn't get caught up in the crowd.  After just a tenth of a mile, my friend, Steve, passed me saying, "I couldn't stay behind you FOREVER!"  I laughed and wished him happy trails.

The trails were in pretty good shape, despite all the rain we had had, and I happily cruised with a long line of people.  At one point I could hear a guy HEAVILY breathing down my neck.  Just when I was thoroughly annoyed by him, he tripped and fell and the guy behind him helped him up.  After that, he learned to not follow another runner so closely and kept his distance!

I wasn't here to break any speed records today, so I took my time and enjoyed the 13.1 mile loop, knowing I'd be running it two more times the next day.  Over bridges and up rooty climbs I went, and every three miles or so, there was an aid station.  Of course I was sure to grab my token orange picture and then carried on.

One of the things I love that races are moving towards in the last year or two is that they're going "cupless".  This means the aid stations aren't lined with a zillion paper cups that you take a sip out of then hurl towards the trash can or leave along the side of the trail (if you're a jerk.)  You're required to bring your own drinking vessel.  I picked up a little foldable cup last year, and I've carried it with me in quite a few races now.  It can be stashed anywhere, and because it's bendy, I spill far less liquid down the front of me when I'm drinking on the run!

Because this race was a one-loop half marathon, there were all sorts of people out there. Fast, slow, road runners and trail runners.  I followed some sort of red, white and blue viking wearing a tutu for some time, and then followed a woman completely covered and running with a bag over her shoulder.  Whatever floats your boat, I guess!

Also, because of the one-loop course, runners didn't have a lot of opportunity to spread out.  I would just like to go on record here and say there are a number of things I DON'T want to smell while I'm running trails.  These would include, but are not limited to, bad breath, farts, body odor, burps, vomit, strong perfume and dirty hair.  Seriously, people.  GET IT TOGETHER.

Aside from the stink out there, I managed to quite enjoy myself.  The bridges and glistening water and rooty trails and narrow paths were so welcomed after slipping and sliding on back roads all winter.

Soon enough, I saw the sign.  Just one tenth of a mile to go!

Over one last bridge and up a big climb along the lake and I was across the finish line!  I managed to grab a picture with Steve and Christine, two awesome runners I know, and then it was time to head home and get my head (and body) ready for the next day's 50k.

Sunday morning came waaaaaaay too soon, but I awoke to see my coffee cup had been decked out by my husband while I was sleeping.Good luck for me!

This day was once again filled with sunshine and it was just what I had been needing.  I headed to the start area to meet up with some fellow Michigan Runners and was surprised to see my friend, Tim, had come to join in on the fun!

This race had a different feel to it than the half marathon.  Everyone here today was either running the full marathon or the 50k.  Facing 4-8 hours on the trails meant you had to be ready for anything!  I opted out of starting with the first wave of runners and joined the second group instead.  I was using this 50k to gauge my training so far this year, and just wanted to get some quality miles under my belt. Unlike Saturday, today the runners spaced out quite quickly and it was easier to enjoy the trails and not have to think about passing or being passed by many runners.

As I came into the aid station around Mile 7, there was Tim!  After grabbing a few snacks, refilling our water, and taking yet another orange picture, we joined forces and headed down the trail together.

Tim had just run a trail marathon the day before, which made his marathon goal today even more impressive!  The miles ticked by as we talked about running and racing and parenting, and after we passed a hanging pink flamingo, we were at another aid station.

We grabbed a few quick snacks and headed for the end of Loop 1.  This part of the course is super hilly, but it's very beautiful and peaceful, and I always take my time and enjoy it.

Then, it was over that bridge, up the grassy hill, and to the end of Loop 1! There to greet us were Lisa and Teresa, two more Michigan Runners.  They had run the half marathon yesterday and are also completely badass for camping nearby the entire weekend!  They were volunteering at the start/finish aid station, and it sure was nice to see their smiling faces!

While I waited for Tim, I had a couple of pb&j squares his wife had made and we headed out for the second loop.  He had decided he was going to hang with me for the rest of his miles, and we alternated between telling stories and just enjoying the trails.  The sun was glorious, the trails were picturesque and man, it was hard to imagine a better place to be.

We came into an aid station where Tim grabbed an ice cold beer and we were greeted by a purple mermaid lounging in the sun.  There's a first time for everything!

Tim was feeling good and he decided that after he had finished his 26.2 that he would do the five "bonus" miles with me and go the full 50k distance.  (Yes, he's a little nutty.)  We stopped at the aid station to see Lisa and Teresa again, and asked how our other friends out on the course were doing.  Some were ahead of us and some were behind us, and we hoped to meet up with everyone after the race.

And then, it was time to follow those 50k signs for a loop around Crooked Lake.

I had not run this part of the course before and although it was nice to be on new trails, they were TOUGH.  The first couple of miles had tons of climbing and it was a nearly silent ascent on the plastic that covered the trail.

Despite the climb, the loop was beautiful.  The trail had seemed to blossom with life in the hours since we had started running that day.

And then, just like that, the loop was nearing its end.  It hardly felt like five miles, but there we were, crossing that final bridge and heading for the finish.

It was done.  44 miles of glorious trails in two days.  44 miles running with friends and cheering on strangers.  It was a good day.

This year, instead of a standard running shirt, all runners received a beanie.  I love this, and will get a ton of use out of it when winter graces us with her presence once again later this year.  Also, if you finish the "No Wimps Challenge" (the half and 50k) you receive not only a medal for each race, but a third medal for completing both in the same weekend.  That's a pretty sweet deal for two days of running!

More and more people I know are dipping their toes into the world of ultra running.  I've said it before but there is just something different about joining a couple hundred other runners on the trails in the woods and running for the better part of a day.  We've all got our own goals and our own motivations, but out there, we are a family.