I Died and was Reincarnated as a Turtle at the Georgia Death Race

I just hope it lives up to its name (spoiler: it does)

So last weekend I ran the inaugural Georgia Death Race, a 64ish mile ultramarathon/hike over the insane mountains of North Georgia. I signed up for this adventure after many peer-pressuring text messages from Rudy and Fletcher over winter break, however when I went to register on ultrasignup, the race was full (I have to say I was kinda relieved…) but for some reason I emailed Run Bum himself begging him to let me in, listing all my sorta okay race times and stuff like that. He HAD to let me in because I was SO curious (what??) about his race! So a month later he opened a few more spots and I grabbed on ASAP. So that was happening.

Suddenly, Friday came, and we left town. I felt like I was embarking on an adventure, not going to a race. That was a promising feeling. BRING IT, GDR. Rachel is coming for you.

We checked in, met up with our friends, grabbed some food, and settled in to the cabin around 10pm, realizing that we had to be up and ready to go in about 5 hours. Crazy. I managed to sleep pretty well, and felt extremely refreshed when my alarm went off at 2:45am. I grabbed my mandatory gear (most of it…) and we were all off to the start line!

It was WARM! Wow! Like SUPER WARM! It felt SO GOOD! This has been the coldest winter EVER in my short 18 years of life! All us Hokies managed to find each other at the start line before taking off, which was awesome (so cool that there were 6 of us out on the course! I love my running buds).  RumBum gave a funny prerace talk, just as I hoped he would, told us to go have fun, and we were off! Just like that this dreaded race/ highly anticipated adventure was happening!

I chose not to wear a watch, and just go by the sun/feel for where we were in the race. So I figured about…15 min in to the race, we hit an up hill. Run Bum was standing up it telling us we were awesome and should be WALKING. I love walking during ultras. So I walked, and we kept going uphill. But then we went DOWN and I was like “wow way to undo all out hard work…”
(you can probably guess how the rest of this report goes)

We went UP UP UP UP til OUCH my quaddddzzzz. Then we went DOWN DOWN DOWN DOWN til OUCH my kneezz were like STOP IT so then I’d walk.

We were all in a line, but someone would come up and pass us with some fancy off trail action, but then in a few minutes we’d catch up and pass, then a different person would pass us again, and then we’d pass again in a few minutes...It was like soul train.

This went on for quite some time.

It was cool being in the dark for the first 3ish hours because you couldn’t see how long the climbs were and just grinded them out. But also I got so eager and thought if I walked fast enough or ran fast enough downhill I’d get to the sun quicker (???) I was really stoked. Those trails were GORGEOUS (atleast the 2 ft  I could see with my headlamp).

I thought the sun was never going to come up. RunBum! What have you done with the sun?! It finally came up, and the sky was BEAUTIFUL!!!! Like seriously, WOWZERS that sunrise was no joke! The sun allowed me to see not only the BEAUTIFUL mountains, but also how high we had climbed already...super high. That made me kinda nervous, to have do so much vert already, but I guess that’s what I signed myself up for! Fletcher and I had basically been running together, but right as the sun was breaking I had to stop and pee, and I ended up losing him. I blew through the aid station and started up the next big climb around mile 8 or 10 (who knows) with a few guys I didn’t know. We chatted and had fun, then we hit a downhill and I passed them out of pure excitement. I ran by myself for a while, which was nice. I trotted along and enjoyed the sunrise and birds chirping and nice cool breeze blowing through the trees. Everything was going perfectly! I felt great, I was LOVING the trail and mountains, and the day was GORGEOUS! I was instantly in love with those mountains. And running. And everyone out there! If you are reading this, then I LOVE YOU! Seriously.

prettiness along the trail (Photo cred: Michelle Matys)

I started up a climb and suddenly noticed my legs were already kinda achy….oh well! I was mindlessly staring at all the trees and the blue sky way above my head of the top of the climb when I heard someone whistle at me, and sure enough it was Fletcher. I was so sure he was miles ahead of me at this point, but somehow I passed him? Weird. Anyhow! It was nice to have him back and he said he wanted to stay with me (yay!) so he wouldn’t go too fast and blow up. So we trotted along together, up and down and jumped over and limboed fallen trees and just had an awesome time out on these amazing trailzz together! It was so awesome!

The next 12 miles were splendid.

Around mile 25(27?28?) I lost all grasp of what mile we were at. The decent to the aid at mile 25 (?) was about 2 miles, and I was SO hungry by the time we got there. Those climbs just make you ravenous! So I ate a ton of pb&j, filled my pack, and was informed that the next section was long. KEWL. So we hiked back up and I was like:

Wow my legs…

Run Bum observing me and Fletcher in our natural habitat

But seeing everyones beautiful (and tired and already deranged) faces on the way back up was so nice!!! I love saying Hi to people when I am hiking/running. So we got to the top and kept going onwards. Our friend and 5 time Beast Series finisher (INSANE) Marc Griffin caught up to us talking about some knee problems and that he did not feel good at all. I was feeling in good spirits, as was Fletch, and the three of us ran together for the next section. Which was FOR-FREAKING-EVER. Oh man. I felt so good, but after an hour and a half, I was expecting another aid station….we’d been running, and told it was 6 miles away. So where was the aid? We were on pace? We kept going….and climb over the next mountain….and the next one…surely it was down this mountain?....nope…not the next one either. I had been eating and drinking, but the noon sun was hot and I was getting tired. I was also hungry and dizzy. It had been 2 hours. IT HAD TO BE CLOSE. I saw a massive climb coming up, and was sure we wouldn’t have to go over it. But guess what? We did. Marc had run out of water and drank out of a creek, I was dizzy and starving after eating all my food and Fletcher was leading the way.

What I Learned Here: If there is a mountain - no matter how big -  you will get over it, even in your weakened state.

WE MADE IT and I could not have been more relieved. That was NOT 6 miles. Idrank a lot of Mtn Dew and took cookies for the road. Fletch and Marc and I continued along together onto this much welcome road section. The next aid was soon after the last, only a TRUE 4 miles away. I was feeling it.

From there, we came across a swinging bridge and another big climb which didn’t seem as bad as the other. This is where the beginning of my downward spiral of stomach issues began. I had a good climb sorta…but stopped about 3 times to vom/other things. Where had this come from all the sudden?! This was NOT okay! I couldn’t keep food or water down and literally had to stop every half hour. It was so bad. I went from being so happy and energetic to dragging and dead. Everything was great, the course was just as I expected, and the conditions were perfect. What happened??
I don’t know, but my body was rejecting everything. With 23 miles left in this thing, I felt totally defeated. How was I going to grind another 23 miles out I couldn’t eat or drink? Even if it was going to all be on fire roads? I knew I had plenty of time to finish, but did I wasn’t to continue going? Was continuing going to do more harm than good? Could I die? Would I be able to mentally take DNFing my 13^th ultra, given perfect conditions and running buddies? I didn’t want the Death Race to beat me, and a 6 hour car ride back to Blacksburg without a spike would be so depressing. But was it worth it? I don’t think I said a word to Fletcher or Marc for about an hour.
We got to the aid at mile 40ish and I was in a lot of mental and physical pain. I didn’t know what to do, and everything on the aid table made me want to gag. I know I looked like I was about to either drop dead or burst into tears (and I felt like doing both), and everyone was asking me what I wanted and needed and if they could do anything for me. All I thought was

Please shut up and get the hell out of my face or I am going to vom all over you

I am always grateful for the aid station people and it’s nothing personal. I just really needed some space to confront myself.

I sat down while Fletcher got all packed up for the next 7 mile downhill stretch. I was pissed. I told him I didn’t know what I wanted to do (besides throw up and sleep) and he should just keep going because this is a race and at least one of us should finish. Sean Pope gave me a ton of electrolyte pills and some PopTarts, promising that they would make me feel like a champ in just a few minutes. Anything was worth a try. I eventually got up and started walking down the fire road with Fletcher and wasn’t sure what was about to happen. He started running and I promised I’d see him at the finish in one form or another, and proceeded to sit down on the side of the road.

A bunch of friendly people kept running/walking by and asking me if I needed help or anything. Well, yeah I did, but theres not much anyone can really do about it. I munch on the PopTarts and took all 3 endurolytes and just thought about why I was where I was (there is no answer to that question). A few minutes passes and one of my friends from these races came by and gave me a ginger chew. I had never thought about eating ginger during a race, but I love ginger chews in real life (because during an ultra you’re in an alternate universe) so I accepted the gift from him and ate it gingerly (HAHAHAHA GET IT?!). I thanked him, and he continued on his way.

I continued sitting and staring for another few minutes, and literally all of the sudden I had a revelation, a rebirth, a major come back. I thought

You are going to get up.

That’s all I had to do. So I got up, and to my surprise only half of my stomach was in a knot. I ate half of a PopTart and started running down the fire road. I was by myself, but I needed to be by myself. I felt so good! So suddenly! Ginger is magical. Don’t need no fancy processed stuff, just give me my roots outta the ground and I’m good to go! I even started passing people, announcing “LOOK AT ME I HAVE BEEN REBORN!” I kept passing people, and eventually caught up to my ginger-bearing buddy, bless his heart. We ran together and talked for a while, and then parted ways as I decided I wanted to catch Fletcher. I passed by Marc, who had also been reborn from a sock/shoe change. He told me Fletch took off and I probs wouldn’t catch him, but I felt like I could since I know how he runs. And whaddaya know, as I ran into the next aid at mile 48, there he was!

Thank you guys at this aid station SO MUCH for the bacon-grilled cheese. SO GOOD.

So back together, Fletcher, Marc, and I set off for the end of this show.

Due to pavement with 10 miles left, we started walking, and this quickly generated to a 10 mile hike. But we were all happy and chatting again, and no one was passing us…

And then we hit the fire road up to the next aid….and it twisted around, and around, and around, and aroung, and AROUNG until I got dizzy! Marc left us to get it over with, but we kept on walking. I think I blocked this section out of my memory because it started to suck so bad. Thank goodness my stomach was feeling better or I would have cried for the 3^rd time.

Finally at the last aid, the workers joked about giving us various psychedelic drugs and promising us we could run 6.5 miles downhill in an hour. I’m not sure which was more hysterical, but neither of those two events happened during this race!

We donned our headlamps and grinded forth into the lingering miles of our undertaking.

The downhill began with an uphill. What the HELL Run Bum?! (it’s not personal I swear)

We were walking anyways so it doesn’t really matter. We walked and walked and walked for an hour and a half until we hit a dirt road that took us to the pavement. The pavement brought a huge sigh of relief because it meant I could sit down soon. If we could only figure out which way to turn! There were no marking telling us which way to go! We went left and uphill…nothing…right and downhill? Nothing. Across the road? Nothing. Back to the dirt road? Nothing! We consulted our maps and a fellow lost soul broke out his phone to look. We decided to go left – cautiously – and ended up waving down a car. We asked the driver which way the visitors center was, and she told us it was right down the road, then take a sharp left at a stop sign. With these instructions, we proceeded, totally pissed and ready to just get this BS over with. We hobbled down, and a car behind us slowed way dawn and began shouting directions at us out his window. He told us the COURSE HAD BEEN CHANGED that morning and Run Bum Blanton was up the the last aid station telling runners about it. None of that made any sense to me – why not just mark the couse…whatever. We were ½ a mile til done. We turned left at the stop sign and began running. There were no marking telling us where the finish line was, so I began yelling “WHERE DO WE GO?!? SOMEONE TELL US WHERE TO GO SO WE CAN STOP!!!!” (I promise none of this was personal, it was all out of fatigue) and we were directed to run between these cars and then we could stop. What? Okay…so we ran there together and suddenly we were done. We gave our numbers to some guys and a woman handed us out spikes…

The most anticlimactic finish of all time.

I am still not sure if this was appropriate for the race or just another joke in the same vein as the “motivational” signs posted along the course (such as “Actually you’re nowhere near done with this climb! You should probably give up!”)….All I wanted was for Sean Run Bum Blanton to give me a high five and hand me my spike. But nope. Anyways, the deed was done, in 18 hours and 12 minutes. We finished the thing together. Happy. Suddenly we were sitting down inside and then on a shuttle back to Vogel. I fell asleep for most of this part. Then we were back in our cabin and I took the best, shortest shower of all time and passed out asleep.

And that was the Georgia Death Race/March/Joke/Adventure/Painfest.

What I Learned:

• ·         Don’t ever DNF unless you have literally busted an internal organ or broken an essential bone (i.e. your leg), because you never know how things can turn around in another few miles
• ·         Eating and Drinking are CRUCIAL in the 100k+ distances
• ·         I love going uphill on singletrack.
• ·       Doing a race that is so hard you question your ability to finish/cry/grind it out at turtle pace to the finish is much more rewarding that racing to win/PR/other time goals.

SPIKED the Death Race!!!

I enjoyed nearly every single moment of this race. The course was AWESOME even the parts I as cursing. I really like what you’ve done here, Run Bum! A beautiful and really challenging course a key aspects in any successful ultramarathon. I may even call this my favorite ultra I’ve ever run. DEFINITELY the perfect first 100k for me! I am still extremely satisfied and EXHAUSTED one week later, but that's not a surprise! See you next year?

Love,

Rachel Corrigan

On Saturday, February 9th, 2013...

Last year, I swore upon my favorite running shoes (Adidas Trail Response) (fine, tease me, but those fancy Inov-8s or Montrails just don't do it for me) that I would never run Holiday Lake 50k ever again.

No offense, Horton, it's not personal!

 
I just kinda hate flat surfaces.

So what in the WORLD happened? I dunno. But Friday the 8th I found myself for the THIRD TIME in the car with a bunch of stinky guys heading to the darn 4-H center. I was seeded 6th woman. Crap!
I have the sickness.

My head was in a weird spot, neither in the race nor out of the race, neither present nor distant. I was thinking about my legs and how strong they had gotten at climbing for hours and hours in the mountains, at walking/running from sunrise to sunset. I am neither slow nor fast, but consistent.

I knew moderate-speed consistency was NOT going to put me in a Top Ten finish at Holiday Lake. Especially not this year.
Maybe I would construct a giant mountain at mile 20 with my huge rock collection that I have made in Derring Hall on campus. If my pending bachelors degree in geochemistry gets me one things, it's rocks.

As we approached I finally accepted how bad my stomach felt and how my right knee and left ankle were seriously hurting. Pshhh whateverrrr no big deal.

 A brief stroll on the course with a fellow VT Ultrarunner proved my biggest fear: the course was just as flat as I remembered. What was I going to do? Why didn't I do track workouts and tempo runs? Why did I sign up for a flat 50k and a MOUNTAIN 60 miler within a month of each other?!

 I wanted to run my race and I wanted to race the women and finish top 10 and get that fancy shirt. I ran a 4:58 last year off a month of ITB and fatigue. What was going to happen in the morning was sometimes I could not predict.

 I ate pasta and pretended to be engaged in conversation with my friends and mom and boyfriend, but really I was not there in that room talking to those people before that race. I was off in my thoughts and concerns but pretending to everyone that I felt good and fast.

 

I woke up to people in my bunkhouse WAY too early. I was grumpy. I had the grumps. It does not take an hour and 45 minutes to put shorts on and tie your shoes. I immediately went outside to get some air and try to convince myself that I was going to RUN 33 miles sorta fast. I couldn't get excited. I felt so so so sick and nauseous and full of stomach cramps. My left ankle wouldn’t bend and water made me gag. What on Earth was happening to me? How did I make it to the start line? Why was everyone running SO fast for the first 6 miles? This was not track practice! This was an Ultramarathon. I ran the first lap with a façade of enjoyment plastered on my salty face and tried to run with some people but couldn’t make myself think of responses to their sincere conversation. I still was not present. I arrived that the turn-around aid station in 2:25, faster than I have ever wanted to run 16 miles. I pretended to act excited when Fletcher and Rudy cheered for me and told me I was killing it. If I could have stopped at the turn around I would have, but that’s not how I do things. If I’m signed up for a race I’m gonna finish it. No matter how much I want to throw up and sleep for 15 hours. As soon as I turned around my body gave out. I was drained, zero energy. My legs felt like they weighed 100 lbs themselves, and my back and stomach were NOT happy. I drank hardly any water during the first lap, and only 1 orange slice and ¼ a pb&j. I couldn’t swallow any food or water. My ankle was on fire. I had to make about 3 pit stops within 4 miles, catching my legs in the torn bushes in the process, which took about 5 minutes to untangle myself from. My attempt to take an endurolyte ended in my heaving it up, still in it’s capsule (reusable?). What has happening to my body? Miles 18-28 passed by in slow motion and my mind left my body for a while. I woke back up at mile 28, the last aidstation, and stopped for a minute. I was in 14^th place and nostalgic for my physical condition last year. Within 10 minutes of leaving the aid, I was passed by a 17 year old boy and felt lost. That was me last year, 17 and happy and passing people with 4 miles to go, on fire and full of adrenaline. I was without my spark, not Rachel Corrigan at all, just a sweaty mess of curly hair and tired legs.

Sometimes 4 weeks of resting is more beneficial than 4 weeks of intense training and mileage.

The last 4 miles dragged on and my legs were not moving anymore, but churning slowly in a vat of viscous jelly. Each stride required a massive effort and was greeted with a heavy sign from my tired lungs. How badly I wanted to curl up in bed and not leave until I was back to my old self.
Suddenly I was on pavement. “Look, Rachel, ½ a mile to go!” I said to myself.
“Ugh. Whatever. I give zero craps.” I responed.
“Yes you do, come on, pick it up. The faster you run the sooner you’ll cross the finish line.”
“Eh….I do have to pee…”
With that acknowledgment I picked it up and ran sorta fast across the finish line. The clock read 5:09 and I was finally done. Horton gave me a hug and told me I was 13^th. That’s fine. Only 11 minutes slower than last year.

I eventually cheered up and gave people high fives and stuff. I mostly hung out with  my mom until we all decided to disperse back to our respected habitats. I was really sore and tight and nauseous until we got back to town that afternoon, where Fletcher and I got the most delicious cheeseburgers that have ever been made.

I am tired but feel much less nauseous than I did Saturday. I know I just as strong and in shape as I was last year, but I need to rest, especially before the Georgia Death Race on March 16^th, which I am extremely anxious forJ I will represent the women's contengent of VT Ultrarunning proudly!

Overall I am still glad that I did HL this year. It confirmed that I was ultrarunning to take me to places on this Earth that you can only see from traveling on foot, not fast times and PRs. The journey is what's important. I want adventures!

 See you on the trail.

What I Do When I'm Not Running or Doing Geology: My Creative Writing Minor

My Best Short Story and Best Poem of the Year!
as decided by ME:)

.........

The Lizard Wizard is Here

Mildred Rockingbomb woke up on July the 22^nd , 2012, unexplainably determined that there was a meeting in Alabama she had to attend that evening. She knew it, she could feel it – and took to preparing herself immediately. In the bathroom, she set her hair, which had just been dyed bright red, into a billow of tight ringlets, and drew her eyebrows on. “The orange suit..the orange suit…” the voices in her head were telling her (for Mildred could hear six distinct voices in her head on most occasions, four of which spoke English, one Farsi, and the other Gonja), so she buttoned into her orange suit with the rhinestone parrot design on the back. The parrot was a signal, a sign to others that she was one of them. She looked in the mirror, making sure that she had covered up the lizard tattoo on her right shoulder. It was a green lizard with red eyes, staring ardently and sneakily out from under her skin, like it had a secret and knew all of our secrets. She was sure – undoubtedly sure – that the lizard tattoo moved around her shoulder on its own, for she had a picture proving that it was indeed 3/8^ths of an inch further to the left when she first had the needle jammed into her flesh. The mirror reflected one of the many images of her, this one a tall, slender female figure with illuminated skin and eyes, inhuman in color. She stared longer, for she had never seen this reflection of herself before, and moved closer to the mirror, reaching out to touch it. As she did, scale-like bumps surfaced on her arms and face, and her eyes grew. Suddenly, the image jumped out of the mirror with an odd scream and on to her – knocking her to the ground in a confused panic. Mildred opened her eyes, frightened and dumbfounded by what had just occurred in her bedroom; the mirror was shattered into a million tiny malicious shards, and a voice in her head told her not to clean the glass up, it would be useful later. She shrugged it off (Mildred never got too excited or too scared; to her, things just happened) and went downstairs to put some toast in the toaster oven for breakfast.

It was a morning ritual of hers: one slice of rye with ketchup and cayenne, and one slice of wheat with honey and garlic. “Keeps the chiggers away!” she attested in a nervous blurt to anyone who questioned her odd dietary habits, for she hates anything that gets under her skin. She brewed coffee and poured it into a large bowl filled with cinnamon and heavy whipping cream, and sipped delicately on it as she went to feed the large eels she kept in a two-hundred gallon salt-water fish tank in her guest bedroom. The threw several medium-sized crabs in the tank, grabbing each with her bare hands, and watched the eels as they pierced the crab shells with their sharp teeth. “Beautiful…” she thought. Or was that merely a voice in her head? Regardless, she loved her eels and had for many, many moons. She even tried to take them into town with her, but transporting a large tank of eels was not an easy task, even though she was more than willing to pull a cart with the tank on it behind her. Ultimately, the general public does not take kindly to pet eels, or the people who own them. “Ding!” echoed from the kitchen, signaling that her breakfast was ready. She meandered towards the toaster oven, opened it, and removed her toast. But as she was closing the door to the over, it began to levitate. Her hand still on the handle, the oven was suddenly floating above the counter. She backed away, dropping her chigger repellent on the counter, eyes open wide. A prerecorded message began to play out of the toaster oven in a falsetto voice: “In approximately twenty-three minutes, Feather Meteor, Lizard Wizard of the Fnordian Alien Indian Tribe, will be here paying you a visit, so please prepare accordingly. Feather does not take kindly to any sort of berry, and needs the room her teleports into to smell like Canadian pines. You will perform any action he asks of you.” and then the message suddenly stopped, and the toaster oven fell back onto the counter. Mildred was not shaken by the message, and she felt strangely familiar with what was about to take place. She knew her life was never going to be the same after the Lizard Wizard’s visit.

            When twenty-three minutes had past, she began to panic. It felt like she’d been waiting for ages for the Lizard Wizard to arrive. Disposing off all the berries had only taken about seven minutes (she only had one container of blueberries and just decided to eat them all). She had also cut down a pine tree in her backyard and dragged in into the house to assure that each room would smell like pine, although it was not Canadian pine. Hopefully the Lizard Wizard would not be able to tell the difference, since he was from space and had never been to Canada. She taped her long cerulean blue fingernails on the marble countertops in impatience and hummed a song she had never heard before in a voice she had never spoken in before. So that was a little unsettling. When she was absolutely about to burst with anxiety, she heard a loud crash in the guest bedroom, and was certain it was either her brain finally exploding or her eels having enough of each other and escaping. She ran down the long, dark hallway to the bedroom, and stopped – froze – in the doorway. There he was, Feather Meteor, Lizard Wizard King. He was about eight feet tall, bright green, piercing red eyes, and a purple robe with planets and stars on it. He had a long grey and white beard, and was wearing Birkenstocks covered in glitter. Feather was distinctly radiant and smiling warmly, emitting lightwaves from his aura for all to ride. After what felt like 12 minutes of intense eye contact, he finally spoke in a soft voice. “How are you this morning, Mildred?”

“I’m feeling a little awk-”

“I don’t want to be short with you; I’d love to sit and had a long conversation, but right now is not the time. Listen, they are coming. They will be here in forty-seven minutes. Where is the trampoline? Didn’t you get the toaster oven message? Why is there a pine tree in the eel room? Eels feel distressed around pine trees. Didn’t you read The Eight Shakra of the Adranda Indians: Life as it Pertains to Multiterrestrial Vibe Interactions? Well, there’s nothing you can do about that now, but please try to remove the tree so the eels can smile again. Anyways, the Alien Indians will need to land their spaceship in your yard, so if you could please mow the grass down that would be wonderful and I would greatly appreciate it and bless you with six Jewels of the Bavarian Illuminati so when the Great Awakening happens you will be safe. Our Popes will be informed of your kind service and send their gratitude your way. Does this sound like a reasonable assignment?” Mildred stared blankly. She couldn’t believe that this was happening; she’d been ardently living by the Discordian society’s Living for a Discordian Star Beam for years and knew she was a chosen one – she could feel it in her bones – and now it was finally happening. She didn’t answer Feather, just nodded and ran outside to the barn (where she grew lily pads in an Olympic sized swimming pool) and brushed all the frogs off her riding lawnmower. She turned it on and backed out. “Bye, Mildred!” a frog on her lap said to her, and she took the frog in her hand and tucked into her chest pocket.

Back and forth, back and forth, she cut the grass and stared sternly ahead. Her right shoulder began to burn intensely, and she almost fell off the lawnmower and down the hill it hurt do badly. The pain subsided, and she looked in one of the windows of her house. Feather was hanging by his tail from the ceiling meditating, but opened his eyes as soon as she looked at him. She turned the mower quickly around the side of the house so he would not see her, but she was sure he was still staring slyly at her. Suddenly, everything went quiet. The lawnmower shut off, no cars drove by, no birds chirping or crickets singing. She felt light. Everything turned neon and spotted, like she was wearing the brightest 3D glasses. She got off the mower and looked at the sun. It was glowing bright green and pulsating, and the clouds around it were swirling kaleidoscopes of water vapor. And out of the sun came the space ship. It rocketed forth so quickly she was blown back by the pressure change its flight created in the atmosphere. Suddenly, it was hovering above her, and landed in the newly mown grass. Feather exited the house, but in the bright 3D color everything was projecting, she could only see his eyes and the parrot tattoo on his shoulder. His aura felt excited, and he exclaimed “They’re here! Oh wonderful this is perfect timing, I just reached a new level of enlightenment while I was practicing my morning meditation and I have to tell the Fnordian’s immediately, for it could be the answer to the question I chapter six of their metacognition literature! By the way, get ready for the journey ahead of you, for it will be metaphysically demanding but spiritually enlightening.” And he floated off to the blue orb that was floating in her yard. Mildred collapsed under the weight of possibility before her, and stared into the sky. With each passing second she became more a part of the universe and the universe became more a part of her, and she was absorbed into the sky and for a moment was at peace.

 

.........
IT'S REAL. and now my poem
...........

Honey Tastes

                        like a flower freshly blossomed and still covered

in morning dew that reflects the days dazzling joy
                        like a sun rise over a field, a blessing
of newly cut grass
                        like a lazy Saturday afternoon in late spring,
 contently laying on a hillside absorbing the sunlight
                        like warm summer mornings praising you overflowing
endless rivers of euphoria – just dive in
                        like laughter bursting from children as they leap  
through sprinklers during the hazy summer days
                        like slow motion fireworks, viscous volcanoes,
mudslides of mercy – these are good things, why rush them?
                       like Rosh Hashanah, when we recite our Parsha
and pray for our next merciful year to be a humble one
                        like a single amber orange autumnal leaf floating
 as the crisp wind lifts it off the tree and brushes it across your face
                        like a headcold lifting – treated best with a mug full
of warm ginger tea and a tablespoon of grace
                        like rainy weekends wrapped together in blankets
next to a woodstove, when all we do is idly smile at each other      
                         like that smile – you know that smile – on your lovers face
a benediction that everything will be infinitely perfect
                                    amen.

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.

Summer Races

Summer 2012: Best summer of my life.

Trying to make the rest of my year as euphoric and the summer.

I also races Highlands Sky 40 Miler and got 3rd woman in a time of 7:57 or something like that. It was one of the toughest races I've ever run; definitely ran like a 50 miler. It was also the most beautiful race ever, though, so that totally balanced it out! Physically, I felt pretty good during the run. I felt like I was going to throw up for the first 20 miles, but then started running with this incredibly nice and REALLY COOL woman named Tina and we basically ran the last 20 miles together. Getting 3rd was unreal, to say the least. I wore that Top 5 vest for a week.

The next weekend - as in 6 days later - I found myself that the pre-race dinner for Eastern Divide 50k, the first running of a new local 50k course, about 20 minutes for Blacksburg. A few of my friends and my boyfriend were running it, so I just decided to tag along. However, I found myself cournered, fourced to accept a free entry into the race.....I accepted. My legs were still tired from Highlands. So with 11 hours to prepare myself for another ultra, I ate carbs and went to bed. And at 7:30am the next day I was on the start line. I actually felt good and ran mostly with ledgend Rick Gray, who also ran Highlands the previous weeked. We ran together until about mile 20, then I decided to take off and "sprint" the rest. I finished 4th woman (though the entry I took was a mans, so Scotty Dwyer finished 4th woman!) in 5:25 or so.

The rest of the summer was bliss.

More on Cheat Mountain Moonshine Madness 50 Miler later, I have mineralogy class now.