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.