March 5, 2011 will be one of those days that I remember forever, not just because I managed to finish my first 50-mile endurance event, but because of the way it happened. First off, thanks to the generosity of many of you out there, we managed to raise over $2,500 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society before the starting gun went off at 6 in the morning. Second of all, it was an absolutely beautiful day, and the event was held in a spectacular location. And finally, things went just about as well as I could have hoped for them to go. The following is my attempt to recreate the experience for anyone who's interested in what it was all about (for me, at least).
4:20 a.m.: The alarm goes off, but I'm already awake, and have been since around 3:00. I haven't slept particularly well, but I don't feel bad about it, because I was kind of expecting it. I've been fairly nervous about this for the past few weeks. Not sure if I'll be able to make the distance - especially because the course is so tough (8,000 feet of elevation gain – and 8,000 feet of descents - on some pretty rough trails and roads). What if something goes wrong? What if I take a wrong turn? Twist an ankle? Tweak a calf? I've tried to stifle the doubts and remember all the time and effort I've put into training for this. It's been a long haul, and the time is finally here, so I get up, get my gear together, get my act together (as much as possible) and go out to the common area to meet the rest of the group (there are five of us running today).
5:00 a.m.: As soon as we step outside, the cold air hits us. We drive to the starting area, get our numbers, and find a spot to store a drop bag for the finish (the course starts and finishes in the same spot).
6:00 a.m.: The race begins, but rather than immediately running, everyone around me is walking up the first hill. There’s definitely a different vibe in this group than in the usual marathon crowd – kind of mellow and relaxed – plus there are only around 150 of us. I’ve got a couple of guiding principles for the day (taken from Born to Run, a great read by the way). The first is to walk up all the hills. The second will serve as my mantra throughout the day – “If it feels like work, you’re working too hard.” With that in mind, I set off in an easy shuffle-jog on the flat portions and walk up all the hills. The sun rises, and we move from road to trail and back again as we wind up and down hills. There’s no opportunity to really get into a groove, but I don’t mind that – I’m kind of enjoying the constant changes in terrain and conditions. Sometimes the road is rocky and steep, sometimes it’s gradual and smooth. I focus on eating and drinking enough, and the time goes by quickly.
11:00 a.m.: I reach the halfway point after about 5 hours on the trail. This is faster than I was planning, but I know that the second half of the course is supposed to be even tougher than the first half. I change socks, eat and drink as much as I can, and hit the road again. The wind has picked up and is in our faces as we head up a long 4-mile uphill stretch. I try to run, but with the wind it’s just not happening, so I resign myself to a slow uphill climb.
1:00 p.m.: I pull into the 33-mile station. The wind has died down, the temperature has climbed a bit (still pretty comfortable, though), and I’m eating and drinking as much as possible. I can’t believe I still have 17 miles to go. My legs are feeling it now – but nothing is really bugging me, just general fatigue, so I’m still feeling pretty confident. The next portion is one I’ve never run before, so I’m not sure what to expect.
2:45 p.m.: At the 40-mile station, I realize I’ve now gone further than ever before. I’m tired, but I know I’m capable of another 10 miles. The last stretch was really tough – lots of steep, rocky hills. I change socks again, eat and drink as much as possible, and hit the road.
4:15 p.m.: The final station at mile 46. The final section is one I’ve run before, so I know now I’m going to make it. As I set off through the last five miles (the race is actually 51 miles), I’m just soaking it all in. As I run, I get a little choked up as I my thoughts wander. I think about all the people who donated to the cause – helping us raise over $2,500 to support the fight against cancer. My mom, who’s going through a tough time right now. Wendy, Susie, Kathy, Colleen, and Kathleen – the other four runners in my group. All our friends and family members who came out today as our support crew – especially Sandy and Katie, who have been on the course all day (and will stay till after 9:00 when our final runner finishes). All the people who have encouraged and supported me along the way. The runners I’ve coached over the past few years and run with as they’ve completed their own events. It’s kind of overwhelming to think that I’m going to actually do this – something I never really believed I’d be able to do, and I’m a little surprised that I’m still feeling pretty strong as I pass by several people who are walking. The last section is deceptively long, and I keep thinking I’m almost there, then find out I’m not.
5:30 p.m.: For a little while, I think I’m going to be able to finish in under 11 ½ hours, but 5:30 passes and I’m still not in sight of the finish area, so I decide to relax and savor the moment. I slow to a walk and soak it all in. The sight of the mountains around me, the feel of the breeze cooling the sweat on my face, the taste of salt on my lips, the grit in my shoes, and the aching fatigue in my quads and glutes. It’s all good. I pass through a gate and head up a slight hill to the finish area, and as soon as I round a corner, people start cheering and encouraging me forward. “It’s just around the bend. You’re almost there.” I continue on to the top of the final hill, where I can see the finish line about a hundred yards away, and with a smile on my face, I reach down for one last burst of energy, and I start to run.
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