Taper Time Again!

Yes this picture is real.  A huge reason I run is that I get to look at things like this.

First of all, I want to thank all of you who are following this blog.  Since I started posting, I have had viewers from Canada, USA, Russia, Australia, France, Germany, the Czech Republic, Mexico, Poland and Peru.  Amazing!  There are people interested in ultra-running all over the world and I am glad that my narrative from this little slice of the world in western Canada seems to interest and hopefully inspire so many.

It has been been a while since my last post, but honestly, I've been busy.  I continued to build and peaked with the highest mileage week last week.  I ran some big weeks with the final back-to-back run being 80 km in 24 hours (30km + 50km) on terrain with elevation that mimicked the race course as closely as possible.  But the end of that final run I was so ready for taper time.  I was tired of always being tired.  I needed a hair cut.  I needed to spend time with my family.  But then life got in the way.

And I hoped on a flight last Thurs to head to the city where we will be moving this summer for job interviews.  I spent 3 days flying, driving to interviews, driving around with our real estate agent, then flying home.  After that, getting up to run only 3.5 hours on Sunday seemed like a gift.  It's all in the perspective.

A week ago, I commented mid run that, "I am in the best shape I've ever been in my life.  No.  Wait a minute.  I'm the most broken down I've ever been in my life."  Which segues nicely into the purpose of taper time.

Many people think that the training makes you stronger.  Those long runs are what make you stronger.  Wrong.  Actually, the training and the long runs break you down.  It's the recovery time, and the time between runs when you actually get stronger.  When you are training, you are asking a lot of your body.  You are microscopically and sometimes macroscopically breaking your muscles and connective tissue down.  You are putting a large demand on your organs and burning fuel stores that are finite.

After all that hard work is done, the real miracle begins.  There is a law in physiology called Wolff's Law.  It relates specifically to bone, but states that bone gets stronger in response to the stress placed upon it.  The rest of the body does the same thing.   Muscle fibers and connective tissue rebuild stronger than they were before in response to the demand that was placed on them.  Energy systems fine tune, organ physiology works to find the balance between demand and ideal function.  Following the SAID principle, the body undergoes Specific Adaptations to the Imposed Demands that the athlete places on it.

The recovery period (and taper time) are where the real magic happens.  I still feel very broken down. I tried to run a tempo run today and my legs felt like lead weights.  But in about 10 days I will start to feel amazing.  Training right up to a race breaks you down and is foolish.  I've learned that entering a race well rested, if even slightly under-trained, is better than entering a race tired.  The longer the race, the longer the taper, and a month of recovery will hopefully allow enough recovery time without deconditioning for my 100km run.

Our human body is an amazingly miraculous piece of machinery that works better the more it is used.  Train it well, feed it well, rest it well, and it will perform.  The human body never ceases to amaze me.  It is so easy to live very narrow lives within very narrow limits.  It is only when we push ourselves to the extremes that we experience an element of divinity, where we witness ourselves accomplish things that defy logic or common sense. That is the essence of ultra-running for me.  Defying common sense to experience something truly amazing.

Mental Toughness

It's been 3 days since our last long run and I finally feel I can blog about it.  Wow.  Talk about training for the mind.  Despite our AMAZING winter (or lack of it) and really early spring here on Vancouver Island, not all runs can produce picturesque postcard Go-Pro pictures worthy of travel magazine or real estate insert covers.  Last week reminded us that running on the island often involves getting wet.  And cold.  And muddy.  And repeat.

Backing up, for the last 2 weeks our family has been fighting all manner of flu and cold bugs. My kids seem to have brought EVERYTHING home from school in 2 or 3 variations this month.  I have been doggedly determined not to get sick.  I've taken my vitamins, oil of oregano, gotten extra sleep by going to bed super early (to make up for being woken in the middle of the night by sick kids), washed my hands repeatedly, even done acupuncture on myself 2x/day, all to boost my immune system to fight those nasty bugs. Going into our 2nd-to-last long run week, I knew I needed to log the miles cause there is no time left.  I managed to get 30K in on Thurs by running 2x that day - all without getting really wet, and got to bed really early.

2 hours in and still smiling

Friday I woke up to wind and light rain.  Sarah and I met in the parking lot at the trailhead at 0600.  Not many words were spoken, we just switched on our headlamps and took off trotting up Queso Grande.  First mental note of the day: my headlamp is sufficient for night road running, but NOT night trail running.  Must get new headlamp before Miwok.  It was a slow first 1.5 hours in the dark up the mountain, but the sky started lightening as we summited Upper Queso and I could relax and stop prancing like an idiot to avoid tripping in the dark.  So much for energy conservation.

Blurry pictures as reflective of how much moisture covered EVERYTHING in my pack.

The rest of the run was a blur of getting wet, wetter, cold and colder.  We looped back to the cars after 3 hours to change socks, grab hot miso soup, restock water and fuel, and say hello to a hard core friend who showed up with her baby snuggly tucked into the jogging stroller to start her own run amidst the downpour.  Ok, maybe it was a drizzle at that point, but I was wet and miserable.

Puddles and mud

At the 5 hour mark, I wasn't doing so well.  We were very high up, the wind was cold, the mist was deeply penetrating into my bones.  I was tired.  I was cold. Mentally, I was DONE.  All I could think about was, "what is the fastest way out of here?"  If it wasn't for the fact that I really needed Sarah to guide me out of where we were, I would have bailed on her.  Whoops - did I say that?  She kept me going, even though all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep in a puddle.  I am NOT kidding. But lesson learned again...

If you just keep going, it gets better.  After a lovely Oskri Pineapple Coconut bar snack, and descending to an altitude that brought the temp up maybe 2 degrees, I felt revived!  I was Chatty Cathy as we picked our way down the mountain, while Sarah was having her own issues with seriously cold body temps.  I bored her with a long narrative summary of my latest audiobook (Running with the Kenyans) to keep her sufficiently annoyed enough to stay ahead of me lol!

My shoes are still holding up!  I wore through 1 pair of socks today though.  Completely shredded.

When we finally made it back to our cars (total time 6 hours), we made a beeline for Sarah's backyard cedar woodfired sauna to stretch and restore our core body temps.  What a treat.  We didn't log the miles we'd hoped for during that run, but the energy expenditure in keeping warm and dodging puddles alone must have counted for 10 extra kilometres.

Miwok, please bring me warm sunshine and shoes that aren't weighed down by water and mud.  But if you don't, my mind is now tougher.

Adaptability

"A lot of people talk about expecting the best but preparing for the worst, but I think that's a seductively misleading concept. There's never just one "worst."  Almost always there's a whole spectrum of bad possibilities. The only thing that would really qualify as the worst would be not having a plan for how to cope." Chris Hadfield, An Astronaut's Guide to Life on Earth

This week I've been thinking a lot about adaptability.  It's mentioned a lot in places like URP podcasts, that ultrarunners have one essential characteristic in common: we are adaptable.  We have to be.  Nothing EVER goes exactly according to plan, especially when your plan can cover several hours and kilometers of time and space, not to mention months and months of training.

Our long run Friday was supposed to be another building week - over 6 hours, 45km with 30km the day before or after.  But things got in the way.  Sarah's body was telling her it was time to back off, so she texted the night before asking me if we could drop down to 3 hours.  I agreed.  Even though I was game for a 6 hour run, I was exhausted from getting the house ready to list and a sick child home from school.  Thurs I had gotten up at 4:45 to run 16K before work, then other 5K that night with the ELM 10K Clinic.  Then that night, my other child woke at 2:00am vomiting.  Needless to say, but the time 5:45 Friday morning rolled around, I was just getting back to sleep rather than leaving the house for a 6:00am long run start as originally planned.

At 7:30 we met at the trail head.  Our original plan had called for more drop down weeks, which left some flex for days like this.  Thank goodness.  We took our time, running some flat miles along the river, then climbing before descending to the bluffs on Goat's Head for this great picture.  It was a lazy, sunny, perfect run day. And we did not feel guilty in the least.

I've learned that when training for a 100K race, you MUST be able to adapt.  Adapt your schedule, adapt your fuel, adapt your mindset.  Injuries. Job stress. Illness. Birthday parties. Vacations.  Life gets in the way.  The only way to succeed at ultrarunning as a working wife and mom is to weave my training into the rest of my life, while having a plan for how to cope. Thanks for the perspective Chris.

One For the Memory Bank

Five days ago we received something we've dreaded for at least the last 5 years.  Notice that my husband's job will require him to move.  This summer we are to move to Winnipeg, Manitoba.  Where there are no mountains, no vistas, no forest.  Only long, flat roads and open prairie.  On which I might take up cycling.  But in the mean time, I want as much trail time as possible!

So, after a down week last week, I was so grateful for an amazing run on Friday in the mountains of Cumberland.  I couldn't start til 0900 after I dropped the kids off at school. Sarah had started at 0600 with another running buddy and was already 3 hours in when I joined her.  It was a perfect sunny spring day, the air still slightly crisp, and the trails almost dry.  We climbed for 2 hours to the highest point in the area and then followed the Trent River for a long loop that brought us back to the parking lot 1 hours later.  Sarah was done at that point and headed for salt hot chocolate from the Wandering Moose and I refueled and headed out for another 2.5 hours.

I had tried to find someone to share the final half of my run with me, but there were no takers.  And honestly, I was ok with that.  I retraced our path back up the mountain to the top in the mid-day warmth.  I felt great.  I had been fueling perfectly, taking Succeed caps every hour, and pacing well.  I honestly felt like I was kissing mountain with my feet with every footstep, trying to keep things light and reverent.  There won't be many more runs like this for me in this area and I was determined to take it ALL in.  The green of the moss, the smell of the ozone in the air, the creaky boardwalks on Thirty Beaver, the lonely tall tree in the middle of a logged out area somewhere near Switchback, the view of the Georgia Strait in the afternoon sun.  For once I didn't even think about cougars and bears.  I felt totally safe and comfortable out there in my endorphin-induced bliss.

I did have one interesting thing happen to me.  I had my first real hallucination.  Which seems weird as I was fueling so well, and felt great.  When I reach the highest point in Cumberland a second time at 4.5 hours elapsed time, I felt a sharp sting on my forearm.  I looked down, actually fearing some crazy bug bite that might leave me incapacitated way out there in the middle of nowhere by myself.  I saw a huge white topped boil on my arm, and I totally freaked out.  I literally blinked once...and it was GONE.  No sting, no boil, nothing.  I blinked again.  Rubbed my arm.  No sign of ANYTHING.  Very weird.

My last long run was 4:40 and I only at 2 bars and a few gummy bears (I was experimenting).  My tummy was actually growling most of that run. Not good.  If I didn't actually bonk on that run, I came very close to it.  This run was 5:40 and I was determined to eat well and kept to my fueling-every-45-min routine.  I stuffed myself with Oskri Bars and Pro Bars, as well as some of Sarah's heavily salted broiled baby potatoes.  Baby potatoes are heaven sent for a runner who has missed lunch and hasn't stopped since breakfast. Take note.

This week will be filled with getting the house ready to list.  It will be a struggle to get my runs in, which might mean some awfully early mornings...so I'm off to bed!

Self Doubt

So the sign ups were done.  It was a week before Christmas, and I realized that the training had to start right then.  Sarah scratched out a training plan on a napkin in Hawaii, took a picture of it and sent it to me.  That was the start of my 100K training cycle (which has been revised since).  We affectionately refer to it as the Napkin Plan.   The first 1/3 of my training happened through Christmas, New Years and into January while single parenting and working almost full time.  My only salvation was the fact Fridays are my day off and with the boys in school, that leaves me 6 hours to run.  I would drop them off and head straight out to the trails for my long run, finishing just in time to shower, hit Costco, and pick them up at 2:30.

Fast forward now to the present.  My husband is back, just in time.  We are 10 weeks out from Miwok and starting to get serious with some long back to back days. If I thought that running 50K was entering a whole new world, then training for 100K is entering a whole new universe for me.  This past week I ran my first 100K week, with loads of elevation.  My body has just gone into uncharted territory and I'm honestly getting really nervous.  I'm starting to have thoughts like..."I just ran in 6 days what I plan to run in 1 day...and I'm exhausted."  "I don't think I can do this."  "What in the world was I thinking?!?!"

All that running took me 13 hours and 22 minutes.  That's a lot of time on the trails.  So what do I think about while I'm out there?  How do I keep my mind occupied and my legs going?

A few weeks ago my husband and I lost a friend to a tragic ice climbing avalanche accident.  It has affected our circle of friends, and really given me pause to think about life in the "rawest" sense of the word.  Last week, even though there was a LOT going on, I cherished my time on the trails in the peace and quiet - to think, to grieve, to just be.

Running has a very spiritual component for me.   I revel in the simplicity of human movement and the wonder of the human body.  I pray.  I appreciate nature as God created it. I worship as the sun rises and the sun sets.  I see the changes of the seasons and the weather as something I am a part of, rather than something to resist and avoid.  I am filled with gratitude that I live in a place where I can run year round in lush rain forests, mud and all.

When I'm alone I listen to a variety of things when I need a diversion from my thoughts.  Which sometimes leads to more thoughts.
1) Audiobooks - Last year Unbroken kept me going for hours. This year Running for My Life is the most inspiring work of non-fiction I've "read" since Unbroken.  I'm currently listening to The Elements of Effort: Reflections on the Art and Science of Running, and War & Peace.  Yes, I figured since I have hours to spend out there, I might as well use the time to become knowledgeable on a classic that I've never taken the time to read.
2) The Bible - I have a daily devotional app that guides me through the Bible in 1 year.  Great way to start an early morning run.
3) Podcasts - UltraRunnerPodcast.com is my favorite.
4) Music - always challenging finding the perfect playlist for the occasion.  Current favorite song: I Lived - One Republic. The music video gives me chills.

For at least one run a week, I have my running buddy Sarah to keep me company.  We have been running stairs, during which time we do not talk as we can barely breathe.  But during our long run, we talk.  We catch up on our lives, plan our futures, talk about work, gardening, etc.  Really, anything under the sun.  I know I couldn't do this without her.


Last week did me in.  I am seriously having doubts I can do this.  But I cannot let those thoughts define me or I'm done.  I have to refer back to my post last year The Biggest Question: WHY. I knew there was a reason I wrote that.  Just when I needed a boost, my dear aunt in CA emailed me today telling me that they are planning to come cheer me on at Miwok.  Wow.  With support like that, I know I can do this.  Little does my aunt know, she might end up scrapping me up off the ground at the finish line :)

One of the reasons I am blogging this is to focus.  When I write, it helps me self-analyze.  Whether or not anyone reads this doesn't matter to me.  But if someone out there is struggling or at least wants to know they are not alone in this crazy ultra-running world of ours, then hugs to you. We can do it!

Back in the Saddle

Well, I'm back in the saddle.  It's been a long time since my last post, and during that time I've continued running, simply for joy and trying to maintain a base level of fitness.  Completing 2 - 50K races last season seemed like quite the accomplishment.  My first foray into the ultrarunning world.  But it took me a LOT longer to recover than I thought. Interestingly, my body recovered much faster than my mind.  I simply could not fathom entering another ultra race.  I volunteered at a few, but avoided entering anything.  I decided to start weight training again and try to achieve some balance in my body after a long season of training in one discipline.  There was a lot of work to do.

That's until Dec came along and it seemed almost all the races had moved their registration dates forward and decided to go to a lottery system.  December is NOT the time of year that I am really thinking about race schedules and training plans. My husband was away with work for a few months and I was in survival mode at home.  But, it was time to consider what 2015 was going to look like.  My friend and running buddy Sarah had identified 2 races that she wanted to do this year.  The Diez Vista 50K in Port Moody, BC and the Miwok 100K in Stinson Beach, CA.  I knew I wanted to push myself again this year, but thought maybe a 50 miler would be the next logical step, not 100K.  In a flurry of texting between Hawaii (where Sarah was vacationing) and Comox, we somehow managed to enter the lottery for both races, never dreaming we'd get in to both.  I figured I would just throw it out there, and God would decide what I was meant to do this year.

Well, we got into both races.  Diez is 3 weeks before Miwok.  I've never run more than 50K before. Tickets were booked to San Francisco, beach house accommodation was booked - all with my husband conveniently absent and unable to be a voice of reason.  What in the world was I thinking?

Squamish 50K Race Report

It has been 3 months since I ran my first 50K in Winthrop, Washington. Since that time I have managed to maintain my mileage and get a few long runs in, taking advantage of early summer sunrises. Quite honestly, I've struggled to maintain the same focus and commitment that I experienced going into Sun Mountain in May. It would be hard to keep that intensity up though, and I don't think I had been so focused on my running in my entire life. With camping, BBQs, and vacations to distract me, I headed into the Squamish 50 rather fearful that I wasn't ready.  Although I had only run up to 5 hours and hiked up to 9 hours, I wasn't worried about my body.  I knew I could do the distance.  I was more concerned that my mind wasn't ready.  I hadn't visualized, hadn't memorized the course profile or map, hadn't even signed up for the shuttle bus to the race start until 3 days before the race. I was worried about the heat and humidity and the elevation profile.  But really these were only vague concerns because I was too busy with summer family distractions to spend much time dwelling on the race much at all. So the day before I left, I packed my race bag, drop bags and updated my playlists and off I went!

Sat, Aug 16 - Squamish 50M

I am reminded of the movie Traffic, when I think about the race weekend.  Varying perspectives converging on one course. Each of us experienced it in our own way.  A crew of us were going over for the race from the Comox Valley and we arrived just in time to see the first men come in from the 50 mile race. We waited and cheered for friend and coach, Sarah Seads, who crossed the finish line 10th woman overall!  After running 11 hours and 20 minutes, she announced she was NEVER doing another race over 50K, and that she hated Gary Robbins. It was a hard race for her (see her race report here) and after hearing her tell of the suffer fest that she had just endured, I started to get worried.  Really worried. Sarah has done numerous adventure races, and ultras so when she said that SQ50 was harder than the Canadian Death Race, I started to choke.

Her top words of advice:

- carry way more water than you think, it's hot and humid out there

- the race starts after Quest, second half runs harder than the first despite the deceiving race profile

- run slow, and when in doubt, run slower

Ok. After forcing down my pre-race meal I begged off to bed at 9:00, saying my prayers for divine intervention the next day.  Yikes.

Sun, Aug 17 - Squamist 50K

Race day started at 3:40 am. I stayed in an apparently brand new residence at Quest University. Although they had advertised a fully equipped kitchen, there was only a fridge and stove.  No pot or kettle to boil water, no microwave. When you can't make your pre-race breakfast as planned, you push down the panic before the race even starts.  I had brought my own oatmeal, so I hit McDonald's at 4:10 for coffee and hot water. By 4:20 I was parked at the race finish and boarded the 4:30 bus for Alice Lake, the race start. My friend Rob was also racing that day and we chatted briefly on the way. It was his first 50k. I shared Sarah's words of wisdom and wished him luck! By 4:50 we were at Alice Lake. It was pitch dark, but warm and humid.

Second hiccup of the day: the bathrooms were locked. Seriously? 1 hour before an ultra and no bathrooms? We found a pit toilet and I stood in the line for over 30 minutes, not moving a step. Finally with 5 minutes to go before the start, I ran up to listen to the pre-race briefing, started my GPS, said another prayer, and started across the line! 

Leg 1 - 8K

Fuel: 1 Solo Bar

My race plan was simple. Personal management: water every 10 min, salt every hour, food every 45 minutes.  Run easy easy easy until Quest.  It was about 15 minutes in when I remembered I hadn't taken my 1 salt pill before the race as usual.  I gulped it down and managed to maintain a super easy, no heavy breathing pace for this whole leg. The day dawned during this leg, the air was heavy and humid, but it was very comfortable.  I filled up water at Aid 1 and headed right out again feeling great.

Leg 2 - 18K (10K)

Fuel: 1 Lara Bar, 1 Fruit Bar

Shortly out of this aid station we headed up the largest climb of the day.  I kept it super easy, trekking a large part of it, but passing people doing so.  Climbing is not my strength and I wanted to reach the summit feeling great so that I could capitalize on my strength, downhill running.  I was pleasantly surprised at how relatively easy the climb was - steady, not too technical.  We reached the top and headed down before I knew it.  Sarah had been following me on MotionX-GPS and had been texting me cheering me on.  I didn't see these messages for a few hours, but hearing the ding in my pack was uplifting!  This was my favorite section of the race.  My legs were still fresh, I could bounce over roots and logs with ease.  The course was very technical overall, and this was the first section that really reminded me of what I train on at home.  Gnarly roots, wet rocks, logs, twisty paths.  Fun!  The air started to smell like ozone (with that extra molecule of oxygen) and I took long drags of the sweet smelling air to fuel me into Aid 3.  I had a rock in my shoe during the descent that I knew better than to ignore.  I stopped, shook out my shoe, but the darn thing was still there.  I foolishly ran on.  I also noted a slight niggle in my L achilles, but again, ignored it.  Another quick stop at Aid 2 to refill the water (2L completely gone) and I headed for Quest!

Leg 3 - 23 K (5K)

3:30 Elapsed Time

The 5K before Quest was pretty uninspiring if I recall right.  We emerged out of the forest a few times, reminding me that it had gotten sunny and really hot already.  I'd guess 95% of the course was in the shade and for that I was very grateful.  The rock in my shoe was causing me to blister under my L big toe and that worried me.  As soon as I ran up the steps to Aid 3 at Quest I headed for my drop bag, shook out my shoe AND sock, restocked my fuel, refilled my water, etc.  I tried some potatoes, but they didn't seem appetizing.  I was starting to feel pretty dry by this point and all I wanted was wet food.  Watermelon was the choice of the day and I started eating it at every aid station from then on.

Leg 4 - 32 K (9K)

This next section was my low point.  I had completed the only part of the race I really had thought about in advance.  The next section was a series of never ending switch backs and totally uninspiring terrain.  It seemed like we ran and trekked forever without ever really going anywhere.  I was having a lot of conversations on the trail at this point.  I seemed to be in a pack of 50/50 racers who were nursing wounds from the 50 miler the day before.  In their company it didn't seem right to mumble grumpy thoughts in my head so I tried to be grateful for the fact that my legs were "fresh." After cresting what seemed like the top of the next climb, a super cheery volunteer waved to me to turn L and head up AGAIN.  No way.  Up up and up again.  No recovery for these legs!  When we FINALLY started to head down, I actually let out a holler of sweet relief.  I am not a hooting and hollering type of runner and I think that may possibly have been the first time I have ever truly let out a "whooo hoooo!" on a trail. That gratitude was short lived however, when it became immediately clear that my legs were not going to get a break.  Large boulders, steep drops, roots, bridges.  I just couldn't relax and had to stay hyper vigilant.  It was at this point that my legs were starting to feel a little heavy and I feared catching a toe and biting it.  So I kept my step light and just kept chugging.  The achilles pain was gone, the blister under my toe was not an issue, but still by hour 4 I needed something to pick me up. So I pulled out my phone and started the tunes.  I planned to save them for the last hour, but it was looking like this race was going to be LONG.  The Kongos "Come With Me Now" carried my feet into Aid 4.

Around hour 4 I also started feeling the tell-tale signs of low salt.  The low grade nausea start the rumble around 45 min into the hour.  I debated whether to wait until hour 5 to take another pill, but ended up taking the 2 tabs early.  Almost immediate relief, and ability to eat.  Good choice.  Heading into Aid 4 all I wanted besides water was watermelon, potato chips and a sip of Coke.  Another full 2L fill-up and I was off again.

Leg 5 - 40 K (8K)

At this point I wanted to trek way more than I needed to.   I don't remember the exact time I headed out of Aid 4, but I was hot and I was actually bored.  The terrain we were running was very very similar to the terrain where I train at home.  I felt like I was running in Cumberland.  The good side was my legs knew exactly what to do.  My feet managed the technical terrain very well.  The bad side was that my mind was going crazy!  I needed something new to look at. I needed a great view.  I did notice that the few runners around me at that point had really started to smell.  I'm sure I did too.  Funny the things you notice. To distract me I played my running playlist over and over.  On to Imagine Dragons, On Top of the World.  Yes, I'm am on top of the world, I feel great.  Thanks for reminding me guys!  Hmm.  I was seriously sweating at this point and fighting nausea by the 30 min mark each hour.  I ended up taking 1 salt pill on the 30 min mark and 2 on the hour.  Much better.  I couldn't believe how much I was drinking and sweating. Those little pills are my sweet salvation.  I managed to run into Aid 5 looking better than I felt I'm sure.  Another stellar meal of watermelon, potato chips and coke.  More water. A volunteer asked me how I was feeling and I blurted, "Horrible."  She looked taken aback.  I'm sorry whoever you were, I was rather grumpy at that point.

For the record, the volunteers at the aid stations were absolutely incredible - grabbing my bladder to fill it for me, offering food, cheering us on. I did make it a point to thank several volunteers who were all along at various points on the course, making sure we took the right turns and offering a hearty cheer as we came by.  Note to self: volunteer at a race I am not racing in, soon.  These races cannot happen without volunteers.

Leg 6 - 50K (10K)

Time to just bear down and get this done. Although trekking was tempting and I did my fair share, running seemed easier on the mind and it was getting me to the finish sooner.  Coming out of the last aid station and fellow racer who had done the 50 miler the day before commented that he wished he didn't know that there was still another climb coming.  I was prepared for another climb, so when I reached the top and headed down I thought I was almost done and could coast into town!  Then with about 5K to go, the real climb began.  Let me say that the race profile tells you basically nothing about this race.  It tells you that you have a long climb in the first half, but doesn't even come close to representing how unrelenting and unforgiving the course really is.  The elevation is made up of constant up and downs.  With the last 4K leading you down super steep stairs, past the Smoke Bluffs (where I learned to climb many years ago - what memories!) and then a nice flat road stretch into the finish - the race was done!  Fellow ELM racers Murray and Paula were marshalling near the finish line (after completing 50 miles the day before) and their smiles were so great to see.  Marian met me at the finish with a smile and a hug (brave girl!).  It was so great to see all the ELM racers out cheering and having awesome races of their own.

This race was HARD.  It tested me to the max.  Mind body soul.  To the max.  But I felt that I completed it as best as I could have given my level of experience. The RD's did a super great job of organization - thanks for a great day guys!

I didn't keep track of exact fuel consumption timetables, but in addition to aid station super food (note sarcasm here), I managed to eat 1 Solo bar, 3 fruit bars, 1.5 Lara Bars (stayed in my cheeks like a chipmunk for about 30 min), 1.5 packages of Margarita Clif blocks and 1 gel.  Not the whole foods list that I would have liked, but getting anything into my tummy on that hot, humid day seemed to be a monumental undertaking.

I finished the race proclaiming that I didn't care if I ever ran another step again.  Now, 10 days after the fact, my quads have healed, the painful memories have faded, and I've had 2 rather pleasant joy runs.  I've decided that ultra running is like childbirth in that it tends to be a long arduous event completed with lots of sweat, determination, and euphoric pain. Both are planned for well in advance, the decision seriously questioned during, and the horror completely forgotten a short while afterward, enough to make you sign up for more. I thought a lot about childbirth during that run.  Maybe I will do another ultra again, but not for a while.  Who knows what my next post will be about?!

Statistics:
Distance: 50K
Elevation: 8500 ft up, 9000 ft down
Time: 8:20