“How are you doing?” I said to the man in front of me as we
worked up the climb.
“Oh, fine. Hard to tell at this point.”
“You doing the 50miler?”
“That’s what I signed up for.”
“Well, this is only temporary.”
“That’s a great way to look at this. But you’ll have eaten,
showered, and napped before I finish!”
“Maybe…” I still had 13 miles left and felt like I could
fall asleep.
“I shouldn’t be complaining. We should embrace this mud and
rain...but not too much! It could be worse.”
The theme of Leatherwood 50k (and 50miler and 10k) is “ANOTHER
uphill?”
Added to that theme this year was “Embrace the Mud.”
I took my shoes out of my car last week, just as they had
cemented themselves to the carpet in the back of my Jeep. I washed my sock
yesterday (as in 16 days after the race, and now all of my clothes are coated
in a fine layer of glittery mica and other clay minerals.
Rain was inevitable, and with rain comes muddy trails. I
watched the forecast for Ferguson, NC all week, and watched the prediction for
Saturday, March 29th transform from 65 and sunny to 58 with 100% chance of
rain. I approached this race blind to the style of trail we’d be running on,
but definitely studied the elevation profiles of both loops. With that much
gain and loss, it was bound to be a muddy, slippery day.
This was only the 2nd race I’ve done outside my
usual VA/WVA comfort-blanket ultras, where everyone knows everyone and each
race is a family reunion. The pre-race briefings and camping is basically a
party, with everyone catching up on everyone’s lives and fun runs they’ve been
doing in between. But after being out with injury since August, I needed a race
where I wouldn’t know anyone and didn’t feel any external pressure to have a
perfect race and set a new PR. I needed new trail, a hard course, and a relaxed
atmosphere. Leatherwood 50k was the perfect pick.
The first 3 miles were pleasant: running on pavement, then
climbing up a gravel forest road, then finally single-track at the top of the
mountain. I didn’t know anyone I was running with which was weird but also
really refreshing.
Most of the first 12 miles were extremely hard. The 50
milers started an hour before us wimpy 50k-ers, so they got the trails all
broken in for us. In many sections, I was sinking up to my calves in sticky,
clay-rich mud (FYI clays are permeable, but not porous, so they soak up a lot
of water but have a hard time letting it go). The uphills were steep and
slippery, the downhills were steep and slippery. It was raining. Everything was
wet. I ran with Phyllis for a while, and she – like everyone else – was a
little down from the course conditions and commented that it was going to be a
long day. Around my 15 she let me pass, mentioning that she might not go out
for the second loop (But I knew she would! And she did!)
The course consists of 2 loops creating a figure-eight: the
first about 16 miles and very difficult and the second about 14.5 miles and
less difficult than the first but still hard.
I came into the midway aid station already covered in mud and soaked to
the bone. It had taken me about 3 hours and 48 minutes to do the first 16
miles, and I was starting to fear a 7:30-8 hour 50k…which wouldn’t be awful,
but I didn’t really want this to take that long! I got my pack refilled with
water (water, water, everywhere…) and ate some Oreo’s. Fletcher asked me
how the course was, and I laughed in response. I wasn’t sure how to describe it
yet. I told him I was feeling good and wanted to get the second loop done in
less than 3 hours.
The second loop starts with a big climb up some big hill called "Death" or "Annihilator " (I don't remember - something scary) but
honestly I couldn’t be bothered by the climbs and descents at this point,
because what was really making this 50k hard and hurt was the mud. The freaking
mud. Mud for days. I kid you not – each step sunk at least past my ankles into
clay mud – the sponge of the Earth, as far as mud goes. Raising your foot from
the ground was like lifting weights. Each step ended with sliding and losing
your balance. The rain continued and my arms, shoulders, and back began to ache from
being so tense – trying to stay upright and moving forward at a respectable
clip. Around mile 20 we hit pavement which lead to an aid station and a sizable
creek crossing. I stopped at the aid station to eat some salty chips and chug
water. I have a hard time eating and drinking when it’s raining (I just don’t
think about it), and I could feel my body craving salt and fluids. I kept
running down the pavement and checked my watch. I have 8.5 miles left and was
on the verge of finishing under 7 hours. I was also in 1st place for
women and 6th overall, according to the nice volunteers at the last
aid station. This was a position I had never been in before, and I couldn’t
help but feel excited and proud of myself.
The thought of finishing first female has crossed my mind several times
before race day, but I tried to keep it oppressed, with finishing healthy and
happy being the priority.
I was really, really
tired for the last 7 miles. The final aid station was about 6 out from the
finish, and the rain has finally cleared up to a light drizzle. My legs felt like
they’d run a 50 miler already, no doubt from the relentless climbs and heavy
mud that now encased my shoes. I was pushing hard, on the verge of
breaking 7 hours. The miles were dragging, and I was walking more than I
wanted. I fell on one of the steep slippery descents – out of put exhaustion
and zoning out – with about 4 miles to go, but I landed on my hands and stomach
so it was okay. I had passed a few people a while back, unsure if they were in
the 50 mile race or the 50k race. Finally, I could see the tennis courts – our
landmark indicating that the finish with within the mile. Hitting the gravel
road at the bottom of the final descent made my legs feel like jello, but I
pulled out (what felt like) a fast sprint to the finish.
I crossed the line, and nothing really happened. I stopped
my watch: 6 hours and 43 minutes! Perfect! There was no clock showing me my
time in glaring red numerals, no crowd of people applauding my valiant effort
to conquer the mountains, no annoying music to totally throw my mood from calm
and spent to agitated. The mist has turned back to a light rain, so everyone
was under the covered area that hosted the start/midway/finish line aid
station, and under the porch on the cabin next to the finish. I took my pack
off and stumbled around the field, holding my aching back and looking for
Fletcher. The race director made his way over and shook my hand, announcing me
as 1st female finisher and 5th overall (I must have
passed someone!) and gave me my trophy.
Fletcher found me and helped me over to a picnic table under the covered
porch so I could take my shoes off (which were essentially bricks of clay), and
he went and got me my warm clothes and the most satisfying cheeseburger of all
time ever.
Leatherwood 50k was definitely a great experience. It was
very different from most of the ultras I’ve done in the past, but I thoroughly
enjoyed my time there! It was very low-key, well-marked, and challenging
(especially with the rain and mud). I knew only about 3 people there, and I had
no idea what the trails were going to be like. But I needed to go race
somewhere else, on new terrain, with no pressure on me to break a record or PR.
The only expectation I want is a finish! Winning was also cool- I’ve never
placed 1st female before! I felt like I had a solid race, and yeah, my time
was slow, but so was everyone else’s! I hope that all of my races this year
continue to the strong and healthy. Thanks to the wonderful race directors of
Leatherwood Ultras and to all the volunteers who had to tough it out in the
rain!
See y’all at Promise Land 50k!
