My first DNF (did not finish)
I thought it would feel a lot different than this. I guess this was the true test to see where I am at in my racing career, and there are so many thoughts going on in my mind.
Coming into this race I felt so much different than any other race. It was very noticeable to those around me. I trained a lot for this race, but not the way I used to. I don’t know what has shifted in my mind, but I just had a revelation that some things are just more important than getting the miles in. This is a great feeling in many ways, but also brings with it the shedding of the old me, which isn’t always easy.
Typically if the training plan called for 5 hour run on Saturday, followed by a 4 hour run on Sunday, there was no question that’s what would happen. If it meant missing time with loved ones, that was the price I was willing to pay for winning the race. This training cycle was different. You see, Erik and I have nearly no time together and Sundays is a day we can hang out. I typically work Sunday’s until about 1030am and I wasn’t about to give up another 4 hours away from him. This is where things have shifted for me. My training was all about, “what means the most to you” and creating memories with loved ones trumped putting in long miles solo. So, maybe I’d run 90 minutes then do a Ruck Hike with Erik for 2 hours. Or maybe it was a bike ride with Erik starting and ending at a brewery. Looking back, I don’t regret any of the decisions I made.
I did a training run with my brother for this race and on that run we talked about how we have both changed. How 20 hour training weeks just don’t seem to fit into our life anymore. How those hours can be spent in so many other ways, whether it’s with family, or just doing things for our overall well being (for me: yoga, nutrition, meal prep, etc)
So, I went into this race with so much less stress than past races (if you read my Tahoe 100 post you will see this is something I have been working on for years) I KNEW I could win the race (female) and even said it out loud to a few people. I also knew that I could blow up and not finish. I was ok with both.
THE RACE: Matt and I started together. I knew the race was going to be a mental F%$# because it was four 25 mile out and backs. Not my kind of race at all. I also knew there would be some benefits of that (seeing other racers a lot, staying on course, many aid stations, etc) My original plan was to go out easy the first 25 and get a feel for the course. That plan changed, however, because the temps were doing to get into the 90’s and I wanted to get in as miles as possible before the heat really kicked in. The first 6.5 miles was all single track, rooty, rocky and technical. Then you hit an aid station (Middle Earth) and the next section to the turnaround and aid station is a lot of ATV trails with one single track section with a lot of climbing.
During this section, about 9 miles into the race, I turned my ankle (this has been an ongoing issue for the last 2 years and I think at this point the only option is surgery as it keeps happening on almost every run) When it happens, there are two outcomes….I hobble back to my car in tears, out for a month or so or I can run it off. This time it was between the two. I tried to keep running and every time my foot was uneven at all (which in trail running is often) I sharp, shooting pain that made me want to vomit or pass out went through my foot. This was happening every minute or so. Not to mention my mind was so focused on every step and just WAITING for that excruciating pain to come. I could NOT do this for another 91 miles.
At that point Matt and I discussed that I would make it back to that start/finish (mile 25) and assess the situation. I was so upset because I felt pretty good otherwise and was ready to at least get to the “pain cave”. This F%$#ING ankle. I was so damn sick of it. I ended up taking a ibuprofen and it got a little better. At about mile 14 I asked Matt how he was doing and he said “to be honest, awful. Everything in my legs literally hurt. It’s ridiculous I’m hurting this bad only 14 miles in” At this point I started to run ahead. (I was also first female from the start and I think we were both top 10 overall)
I got back to the mile 25 in 4 hours and 30 minutes, way faster then I had planned. This is where my crew was (Erik and Ryan) and we decided I would definitely head out for another 25. In my mind I kind of thought 50 would be it for me. I couldn’t do another 75 worrying about EVERY SINGLE STEP and that immense pain. I had also gotten behind on my food and drink during that 2-3 hours because I was so focused on the pain in my ankle. I made some stupid mistakes at this aid station, including not sitting long enough and not taking in really any nutrition or liquid. I think I was just thinking about getting back out there and getting it over with and not the long run (literally)
However, as I kept popping ibuprofen the pain kept dissipating. By the time I got back to Middle Earth (mile 32ish) it was much better. The aid station let me know I was first female and 3rd overall, however, the first place was dropping (at this point the heat had crept up past 90 and people were dropping like flies) and I soon passed the next guy to put me in 1st overall. The racers and aid station workers were so sweet cheering for me out there. “You’re a beast.” “You are incredible”. I was running strong into every aid station and feeling pretty good. When I turned around at mile 37 I was running a lot of the sections, however, I was VERY aware that I was not eating anything the last couple of hours. Everything I put into my mouth I had to choke and gag down. I knew this wouldn’t change as it is always and issue for me. Typically I cannot eat much when racing and I need to drink my calories, but I was just not prepared for this race with no drinkable calories to sustain me. (Bring it back to the relaxed mindset, not much thought about anything, lol) and the last 6.5 miles on single track back the aid station I had pretty much decided I was done. I felt super woozy, I was starting to hurt (blisters and chaffing) the temps were in the 90s and the thought of going back to Ryan’s cabin and having a beer was much more appealing than another 12+ hours on the trail.
When I entered mile 50 I was still running pretty good, but my heart just wasn’t in it. The race director (a female) was so excited that a female was winning and Erik told me that 2nd place was about an hour behind. I was pretty sure I could win the race, but guess what….I just didn’t care. Being out there for another 12 hours, in the dark, suffering, when I could go to the cabin and have a good nights sleep and probably be back running in a few days was more appealing. A big part of me felt like I was letting everyone down. My crew and what became a team of cheerleaders out on the course.
I would be lying if I said I am 100% okay with my decision. I am still trying to sort it all out. Am I disappointed in myself for not pushing or am I disappointed I didn’t take my first overall win in an ultra? Just writing those last words I think that’s more the truth. And if thats the case I still have some work to do with ego. I think in my gut when you take ego away I am very happy with my decision. I can still teach classes and do my job unlike my last 100 miler when I was in crutches for a week after. I have friends who are still unable to run after pushing their bodies too far in races like these. I told myself going into this race I would not sacrifice my body. Of course, I didn’t realize I would be in the position I was in when I dropped. That made it much harder. I just knew that if I pushed another 25 that chances are I would have finished no matter what, and that’s when you start to do stupid shit that puts you out of commission for weeks, months or more. I want a lifetime of adventures and I think I have realized that the big lessons, the victories, the pain caves have taught me enough and I am ready for another chapter.
When I told Matt, Erik and Ryan my thoughts at mile 50 and my reasons for dropping I said, “but do I really want my last ultra to end in my first DNF?” And Matt replied, “I think it’s the perfect way to end.” He is usually right
The World is My Gym 