MMTR 50 Miler 2012 Race Report

So last year MMTR was my first 50 miler, and it couldn’t have gone better. I was smiling the whole time, laughing, singing, pullin some parkor moves off trees and doing cartwheels down hills (just kidding…maybe). But it was TOTAL BLISS! It felt easy and I wanted to do it again ASAP!

12 months later I was limping to the start line (well I ran to the start line because I waited til the last second to get out of my parent’s toasty warm car) with a stress fracture or something in my left ankle area. I’d had the perfect spring of racing LUS races, retreated to West Virginia for summer ultras, but then kept running on average 30 miles every Saturday from Cheat Mountain Moonshine Madness 50 miler through pacing Guy Love at Grindstone for 30 miles. Basically I overdid it because I got too eager AGAIN but oh well. If you know me you know I have to learn things the hard way because I’m stubborn and overdo everything worth overdoing.

Like running in the mountains. Duh.

So with a hug and a “Go do it” from Fletcher, I was off.

“This year is going to be special. It’s the 30^th year, we have a new course, and there’s snow on it!” said both Clark and Horton at the prerace dinner (maybe not exactly that, but it was something to that extent) GREAT! And there I was stuffing my face with pasta and nursing my ankle. Yeah, it sure is going to be a special race…at least all my fellow Hokie Ultrarunner’s look equally nervous…and at least I knew what I was getting myself into, having done this race last year.

I knew it was going to be a long day at mile 3, when my ankle started feeling funny and hurting and stabby and all locked up.  There went my hope of getting top 10 women, which was total feasibly about 2 month ago when a 9:20 50 mile was a totally doable time for me. It was expected. I was in perfect 50 mile race shape, well rested, and not injured. My racing legs were totally there. Why did I have to go and overdo it again? Why did I sign myself up for 21 credits this semester? So from mile 3 on, I had to totally change my whole mentality about the coming 47 miles. It was going to be a fun day in the woods, a day to relax and detox from that horrible Structural Geology midterm I’d just taken on Thursday, a day to enjoy what my body can do even when I’m not in tiptop performance shape. I was with the best people, in a beautiful place God gave us. Inhale, exhale, move forward. Ignore the pain. Breath.

I ran the first half at a good pace, though I was not comfortable for the first 11 miles. Everyone was running so fast! It was a bit tiring, but I knew the second half was going to be slow so I did it.

“Isn’t the sunrise GORGEOUS?!” I exclaimed enthusiastically to the man running in front of me. No response from him. What?! Why wasn’t everyone enjoying the breathtaking sunrise! I don’t care if this is a race; I was going to WALK up that hill and take in as much of the sunrise as I could! It sure was beautiful.

I ended up running with Lee Conner basically to the halfway point, and that was good. I felt like we were running a good comfortable pace, then around mile 24 my ankle got a wave of intense pain and I had to stop and walk. Wow, that was a lot of pain. I ran into the aid station with that “guys please stop talking to me I’m FINE” look on my face and went straight to the aid station volunteers (thank you all so much!) to ask for advil. They had aleve, which I said was great, but a few kind souls told me not to take an aleve if I’d just taken two advils 3 hours ago. “BUT I WANT DA PAINKILLERS, YO!” I screamed in my head. I was also curled up in the fetal position rocking back and forth under the picnic table crying. But that was also just in my head. 

Help...

As I was eating pb&j and listening to Bob tell me what to do about the pain (thanks Bob!) I looked over at Fletcher and just shook my head, and he knew exactly what was going through my mind. It wasn’t happening today. Sure I was going to finish, but my body was screaming and wanted to sleep. My parents were also at this aid station, and seeing them was comforting. I thanked everyone there and left the halfway point and headed up the long climb. I basically walked the entire next section up hill. I got really hungry about half way up because I hadn’t been eating because I’m stupid, but when I got there they and the best vegetable soup I’ve ever tasted! And I swear it saved my life. Thank you, aid station volunteers, SO MUCH. We could not make it without you!!! 

heading to the loop

The loop is the next notable part. That’s where the snow began. Fletcher, Darren, and Mike were there waiting before the 1.5 miles up to the loop, and they asked me if I wanted one of them to run with me. “No not yet.” Was my response, and I grabbed some food before power walking up that hill. I made it up pretty fast, and Fletcher was at the loop and told me to grab a ton of food because I was gonna be out there for a while. He asked me again if I wanted him to run with me, but I said I had to do the loop by myself. It’s a personal thing.

It was snowy, icey, slushy, and slow. But also incredibly beautiful. I haven’t spent much time on snowy mountains and I’m glad I finally did. The added summit was extra gorgeous, totally worth the climb/almost falling. I sat up there for a second to take in what we were all out there doing and how grateful we should all be to be able to do these incredible things. Then I stumbled down and shuffled through the rest of the loop until I popped out at the aid station. And at that point I knew I needed someone to run with me. Phil helped me fill my pack up, he could tell I was hurting BAD, and told me to eat and drink. I had 11.5 miles left, so I ate some cookies, recruited Fletcher to run with me, and drank some mountain dew. We shuffled off, and immediately I felt happier. Just knowing it was almost over, I was still in one piece, and having Fletch there with me made everything seem so much better.

A mile or so later I stepped on a rock wrong and twisted my hurt ankle. Like worse than ever. I immediately had to stop and limp it off. Fletcher asked me what happened and if I was okay and I just looked at the ground and tried to suppress the tears. It passed, I said everything was fine, and started running downhill. We talked to keep my mind off things and it worked. I was happy and enjoying the running and felt okayish (relatively). Eventually we were at mile 41, only one more aid station to go before the finish. This part of the course was slow, as there was still about 3 inches of snow covering the trail. We walked almost everything except the downhills and some flats, which was normal for me. We were running with Rick and a cool guy from NC who races bikes, and it felt good. The stretch did feel a bit long, but eventually we got to the fire road and there it was. 4 miles to go. My friend David was just ahead of me when we ran in, and I passed him before we got to the aid station (haha). He was having a hard time, hurting a lot just like me. He said the sides of his legs above his ankles were destroyed, so Fletcher and I gave him a little pep talk at the aid station as I stuffed my face with cookies and joked around with the aid station workers. We ran off together, but David dropped. I knew he was going to make it, but I was a little worried he was gonna hate it at the end. The last few miles were mostly running since it was downhill, and we trotted along talking. Fletcher had made a huge snowball for me to throw at Horton when we got to the finish line, and I was running as fast as I could to throw it at him. We finally got to the “1 MILE TO GO” mark and I kick it as hard as I could. I told Fletcher not to let me stop and run as fast as I could. I said “Think I can catch those two people up there?” and he replied “I didn’t want to say anything but yeah I think you should.” So I ran even faster, slowly reeling them in. I passed them before the final turn; I could see the finish, I COULD SMELL THE BARN! We were by the fence, and Fletch told me he was going to drop off and that he was so proud of me. I think I replied with a grunt of recognition, and kicked it in.

FINISH!

            Crossing that finish line in 10:24 with a bad injury and still finishing LUS was more rewarding than if I’d finished top 10. Just knowing I could push through all of that for so long was a good sign for my ability to run a 100 miles (which will happen in the near future); it was definitely harder than running at a good clip, both mentally and physically. I really did have to struggle to finish, and still kept a smile on my face for the most part. MMTR still means so much to me, and being part of this 30^th running, with the hardest conditions the course has ever had and an extra 1,000ish ft of climbing, was really a special run. It was literally a rollercoaster, one that has a lot of loops that turn you upside-down for longer than comfortable. But I finished and got my shirt, and also finished Lynchburg Ultra Series 2^nd woman (I think). 

Also I didn’t throw the snowball at Horton, but I did take it to him and tell him I was going to throw it at him but was too exhausted. He just laughed:

me+snowball and Horton

The cutoff was extended half an hour for the conditions, so we waited for Kelly to finish and just hung out. The Patagonia guys were at the finish making the BEST quesadillas and tomato soup I’ve ever eaten. THANKS GUYS YOU’RE THE BEST!

Guys, I just ran 50+ miles in more pain than ever. That makes me feel pretty proud of myself.

And now I just resting and recovering for the rest of the year.

I’d like to thank Clark for putting on another wonderful and challenging year of MMTR, Horton for continuing to be Horton, all the sponsors, radio directors, the aid station volunteers, my parents for being awesome and supportive!, and ULTRAVT!!!! We’re the best team ever.

See y’all at Hellgate, where I’ll be helping Fletcher, Rudy, and Guy with whatever they need as they tear up those trails. 

team + Horton!

MMTR 50 Prerace Thoughts (writen at 10pm before the race)

I was going to write this yesterday after my structural geology midterm, when I was frustrated at everything and taking my aggression out in a passive and unhealthy way. I had it all worked out in my head, “Sometimes the best taper involves hurting your ankle, not running for a week, and screwing up a midterm so bad you may lose 60 points from one annotated diagram...it seems to build up the most aggression, which I will not unleash on the trail.” But then I decided to stop having  a pity party for myself and just run. I knew it was Thursday, I knew I had 50ish miles to run Saturday, I knew my ankle was still in a lot of awkward pain, but gosh darn it sometimes when it seems like your life is falling apart in almost every way you just have to run. So I tore out of my bed, slammed my laptop (that had Gilmore Girls playing on it) closed, and laced up. I was gonna run to the gym, bust up the abs class (of course a 45 minute core workout two days out is a perfect idea, right? Right!), and run the long way back home. That planned proved to be the most ingivorating and revitalizing 3 miles anyone has ever run ever. EVER.

And that was when I realized how much running means to be in all aspects of my life.

I love running. It felt so good. I was renewed, the sidewalk alone the edge of campus filled with bus exhaust and bewildered freshmen became my euphoria. I was literally laughing out loud it felt so splendid.

I then proceeded to finish out my Thursday night by watching the middle of Unbreakable and then making deer burgers, kale, and beets for dinner with Fletcher, and passed out asleep before the AM hours.

Then today came. I woke up in a panic because it was 8:03am and I hadn’t finished my differential equations homework or mineralogy lab. But then I remembered it was THE FRIDAY BEFOR MOUNTAIN MASOCHIST!!!!!!! Why wasn’t that getting me excited…..because I had to go to math at 9am and geoscience fundamentals at 12:45pm…I’d have to pack and get gels and cut my toenails (TMI sorry but that’s the truth) after class at 2:30pm in a rush because I hadn’t had time to pack all week because of exams and labs and blah blah blah life life life… but it all fit together and I was mildly stoked by the time class let out and I was pedaling as fast as possible back home! I literally trew all my running clothes in my backpack and went to buy gels from Frank but I didn’t have enough money because I’m a poor college student (just kidding) so I payed him 8 dollars in 1’s and like 23 pennies and he spotted me the rest. Then I sped to pick my lovely friend KELLY SUMMERS! up and we had a blast driving hereJ

(Even though it took us 3 hours because traffic was so bad)But we made it, crazy college times and all. It’s hard to take 19 credits, run ultras, work, and balance healthy relationships, but making it all work is the best and life is totally perfect right now in every way.

So we ate pasta and listened to Clark and Horton talk about this special 30^th running (omg!) and with a “one to three TEAM!” from us Hokie Ultrarunners, we all dispersed off to our evening accommodations. And now it is 10:30pm (can’t sleep) and I am chillin in bed in my hotel room getting PUMPED to run my 2^nd Masochist on it’s 30^th year.

Goals:

Realistic time goal given the conditions: 9:30, break my 50 miler PR of 9:36 (Cheat Mtn ’12)
Lofty goal: sub 9 would be sick!!!

FINISH LYNCHBURG ULTRA SERIES 2012 IN ONE PIECE AND HAVE AN AWESOME TIME FROLICING IN THE WOODS AKA MY HOME!!!!!!!

See ya at the start line! (p.s. this probs won’t be posted til after the race but whatevsss, gotta capture these prerace jitters!)

Terrapin was 7 months ago...but I just found this on my computer

Sunday, March 25^th/Monday, March 26^th /Thursday, March 29^th (It’s been a busy week)

Inspiration makes its way into my mind at the strangest times. And as I lay here in my bed, propped up my about 6 pillows to keep my body from being in blinding pain, I am suddenly wide awake. It’s one of those nights where you make a new song in your head, but then realize how annoying of a song it is so you start reading that huge stack of novels you check out at the library, and 200 pages later you glace at your clock and it tells you in a harsh read light that it’s 2:36am. In five hours and a few minutes you will be asked to build an L-C current in your electromagnetic physics lab. You don’t care, however, because you’re in the middle of an adventure in a magical place, living vicariously though the fictional characters that were themselves frolicking through some depressed British persons mind about 120 years ago. Your body is too shredded to do any first person frolicking – that’s what happens when you spend your weekend running up mountains – so if reading for 4 hours after getting in bed gets your jitters out, you do it. My eyes are darting across the page, and in one more paragraph I will escape. I can’t feel the lactic acid slicing through my muscles or the microscopic tears in every single one of my muscle groups trying to mind themselves.

Okay, so it’s not that bad. I just get carried away when I write.

The event leading up to this elaborate piece of prose goes by many names. Some call it Tendonitis. Some call it Idiocy or Denial. Some call it Terrapin Mountain 50k. I call it FUN.

After my geology exam Friday afternoon, I walked vigourously back across campus to my dorm room. Not because I was afraid of being late to leave for Terrapin, but because I wanted to tess out my Achilles. I had been out for about 3 weeks at this point, and knew it probably wasn’t a good idea that I was going to be running 31 miles on it the next day. Zero running. Lots of mountain biking and swimming stuff. But I’d just had a successful running at Holiday Lake and had a good base. So I’d be fine, right? Right…But as I swiftly made my way through the maze of slow walkers across the drill field, I felt no pain in my Achilles. No discomfort or fluid crunching around in my ankle. It was liberating. I almost broke out in my signature happy dance, but refrained myself. Not because I was in public, but because I didn’t want to mess up my Achilles.

After a fun car ride to the Sedalia Center with my fellow Hokie ultra runners, I was ready to run. I felt the anxiousness building up inside me as the mountains approached, the mountains I’d be enveloped in in a few hours. It was on. I was ready to race. I always say I’m going to just run, just enjoy myself, but that’s so much easier said than done. I always end up wanting to see how hard I can push myself. Anyways, we pulled the cars up in the field, had a spur of the moment dance party, pitched the tents, and then went to check in.
I had been seeded in 14^th woman. Two months ago, I would have thought that I could easily break that and get a top finish. But over the course of the past three weeks of no running, I wasn’t sure I would finish 14^th. That’s pretty dang high! I remember last year when I started running these crazy things I would notice the women seeded in top 20 and stare in awe at their race number, quickly getting out of their way whenever I could because I was so amazed by them. How tough and strong these women were! I hoped to one day be as amazing and fast as them. Little did I know Terrapin 50k 2012 would be the testing ground. A new level had been reached. And such unfortunate physical circumstances lead up to it.

I told Horton about my injury during a little chat we had the night before, and he said I would be fine and still have a good run. Well, there ya go. I had my worse Terrapin nightmare streaming through my head in HD…Planet Earth quality…. “And here we see the illusive Appalachian mountain mammal, the Corriganius Rachelae, or more commonly referred to as the Big Eyed Mountain Lemur, in its most natural habitat. Watch as she gracefully navigates the technical switchbacks and OH NO! It appears as though she has taken a nasty tumble! Rupturing her right Achilles tendon in the pro-cess! Although she could easily overtake any of her male relatives when she is in good physical health, she is now so badly injured that nothing can be done to save here, and she will be left here to die so as not to slow down the rest of the leap of lemurs. ”

Natural Selection is a bad mother.

The best case scenario I had formulated for Terrapin was that I would make it to the finish line under 9 hours with 1 good leg. That’s all. Because nothing else seemed possible. My parents, the coolest parents in the world, were awesome enough to come to Terrapin for a lovely weekend in the woods, and reassured me that I was strong enough to finish no matter what. This is the first ultra of mine that my dad had come to, and I really wanted to show him for real how strong a runner I was, even though he already knows. I just love sharing this wonderful sport with people I love! It’s something you really have to experience to understand. The next day was indeed shaping up to be a mental one. I said goodbye to my parents and we Hokie’s retired to our tents to tell stories and laughs, and eventually we all said goodnight. The rain started drizzling down, and eventually I fell asleep. I always do my best sleeping when I’m in a tent.

The morning greeted us dark and wet. I embraced my impending dampness and set forth across the field for the best cup of prerace coffee I’d had in a few months. Thank you cross country team! I was debating wearing a light shell just to keep the rain off and from being too cold right off the start line, but the morning felt balmy enough so I decided just to wear shorts and the terrapin shirt from last year. Maybe the mixture of the yellow Terrapin shirt and the bright blue Promise Land shorts would brighten the somewhat dreary morning.
We Hokie’s congregated on a bench to kick things off with our traditional Hokie Hi. I hope everyone heard us…we weren’t nearly loud enough in my opinion. And with that subtle gesture, we made our way to the start line and off we were! Up the mountain! Maybe not being able to see where I’d be climbing too was a blessing.

I felt okay starting off; it just felt SO GOOD to be running again! I was immediately about a thousand times happier than I’d been in weeks, just from running 10 steps. I felt so good that I tried to catch up with my team mates. I did, and after a 2 minute conversation I could feel the extra speed taking it’s toll on my legs and decided to drop back. My breathing was much too hard for this early in the run, so I slowed it down and began to climb. Horton was on the side of the old fire road in his truck, and he let me know I was “way up there!” that was a little reassuring, so I leaned into the climb and ran a little. Most of the journey up to the aid station at the top of the mountain was a run/fast hike for me, as my endorphins were kicking in and making my legs want to work hard. The first down hill section on the gravel fire road was painful, but I flew down and blocked out the pain. My toenails were doomed anyways. After about 13 miles, I began to lose steam. The loop was nothing but pain, and I was sinking deeply into a dark, painful place. I didn’t know how far we’d run or how much more was left, but I did know that I had never been in such pain all over my body before during an ultra. It was unreal. I suppose 3 weeks of no running and no climbing isn’t the best thing to have to go thru before a race like Terrapin. I pushed through, though, and tried to smile, but I did almost cry at one point on the loop. My jelly legs were very mad at me.

 

When we got out of the loop to climb to the summit of Terrapin Mountain, the aid station people (thank you guys so much for all your work!) said we only had 9 miles left. I could not have been more happy to hear this! I was sure we had at least 12 more to go. With only 9 more miles, we were practically done! I had a change of heart – for a while – was started having fun again. I was pulled out of my mental funk, and started enjoying the end of the race. The section after the thirst Camping Gap is one of the most fun sections on the course. You get to climb out on the ledge of the mountain, slide through Fat Man’s Misery, and fly down some beautiful single track through rhododendron tunnels. I have always loved this section, and started feeling good. By the time we got down to the last aid station, after some near death experienced running down the single track that was now just a mud slide, my legs and feet were officially gone. I was in a good mood, but the pain in my lower body was bogging me down. However, I learned something very amazing at this aid station. I learned that I was in 4^th place for women. 4^th place. And the 3^rd woman was not that far ahead of me, they said. Now, I knew I was in no shape to be that high up on the rankings. What was happening?! I didn’t believe them for a while, but was so excited about this news that I started flying. I took off, not wanting the women I’d just passed in the last section to catch me (no offense, ladies, but I really wanted to finish 4^th!), and fancifully wondering if I could catch that 3^rd place lady in the last 4 or 5 miles. Probably not, but I was running as hard as my pain-filled legs could run! By the time I got off the mountain and onto the gravelly road, I felt pretty secure in my position as 4^th woman, and let out a huge sigh of relief/pain. I now just wanted to be done with this race.


I thought about the day as a whole, from starting to crying to now being 4^th woman. I thought about what my body was doing, and how on earth I was capable of running 31 miles with 7500 ft of gain with no really specific training over the last month. I thought about how much better a day it could have been if I did not get injured. And I thought about how I didn’t want the day’s adventure to end. Running in severe pain on a beautiful mountain is better than no running at all. But I was in a lot of pain. I saw the “1 MILE TO GO” sign and dug deep down. I always grind out that last mile sprint, but this one was probably the most painful last mile I have ever run in an ultra. I felt the pavement beating my knees and feet to death, I felt my legs turn to jelly. I closed my eyes – it was a straight shot in to the finish line now – and just listened as the cheering from the finish got louder and louder.


I was done. I sprinted as fast and I could on the grass and crossed the finish line in 6:02:20. 

Then I sat in the grass and took my pack off  to ease the nasty pack rash I had developed (that is now a giant scab, oozing weird yellowy liquid) and ate a cheeseburger and half a bag of ginger cookies. You know, getting ready for the hot date I had that evening.

 

 

And all was right in the world.

      The End.