If you want to learn how to finish an Ultra race using all the wrong techniques, please read below.
Race day started early at 4:30 am for the 6 am start. After taking the same wrong turn from Saturday, we arrived at Boulvard Brewery around 5:20 am.
My nerves and pre-race cocktails had done their job and I headed to the porto's to take care of business. First time for me... christened a 100% clean and empty porto-jon. As I exited to find my group, I was pleasently surprised to find CS and his crew rolled in to wish me well on the adventure.
Brooks and I had planned on meeting up in the morning too. I needed to get some salt tablets from him for the race, but the clock was quickly counting down and we only managed to throw Angry Birds, snap a few pics and hit the start line.
This oversight on the salt tablets comes into play later. The temperature was 63 at the start. I'm used to 30-40 these days, so I opted for no jacket, hat or gloves, and stuck with pants and a long sleeve shirt. I was afraid of getting cold for some reason. My crew had several changes of clothes for me, so I knew I could swap out later. It was a bit windy at the start but that was nothing compared to what the day had in store for us.
Start to Aid 1 : 3.9 miles
Nothing exciting to report for this section. Felt good running on the Levee. Saw the crew but didn't need anything from them, hit the "lap" button on the Garmin, or so I thought, and didn't even stop. The plan was to start eating from this point forward after each aid station. I had packed plenty of Bloks, jelly beans, granola bars and an apple. I don't normally eat much during my day-long mountain climbs anyway but I knew I had to try here. So I brought stuff that I've been able to stomach on those trips.
To Aid 2 : 5.3 miles
This section was the 2nd longest, so I was happy to get it started and over with. I looked down at my watch to check my pace only to see 30+ minutes stopped on the timer. I didn't hit the lap button, I hit stop. Oh well. I didn't want to cumulatively know where I was at anyway, but sucked to know I wouldn't be able to capture all my splits for the race. Sun was coming up, wind was picking up, but I was still running 9-10 minute pace. Kept it slow on purpose. At the station, I filled the bottle with Gatorade, grabbed a new sleeve of Bloks and kept moving.
To Aid 3 : 5.6 miles
As you leave Station 2, I was presented with the first of many trains I saw that day. There was a sign telling runners who were stopped to record and turn in their delays but I figured it wasn't really going to be a factor for me. I just kept running in circles to stay loose. After the tracks, this section had us running on a highway for the entire time. Not fun. You could see a few miles in front of you so you were just starring at where you had to go. And cue the wind. We were completely exposed. I know I'm 136 pounds of meat and steel but one gust picked me up. Literally. It was horrible. At minimum 40 mph gusts. I could barely hear my music with the wind whipping by earphones. But I motored through figuring it wouldn't last long. I was able to eat some beans but couldn't get the Gatorade down. It was too sugary for me. Told my crew to have plenty of water at all times and that I'd be changing my shirt at the next station. They needed to be ready.
To Aid 4 : 2.3 miles
On my way out, I grabbed some apple slices to munch on. The coldness of them felt so much better than Bloks and beans. And of course, the wind got worse. (I'll be saying that a lot in this post.) It was relentless. Brooks coined a new term - We got face fucked by the wind. It seemed antiproductive to attempt a strong run. I revereted to as-fast-as-seems-fair pace and was looking forward to a fresh shirt. Let me preface these next few comments.... I love BruceBruce and K for coming out and crewing for me. I know the kind of stress and boredom that goes with it. They did a great job for their first time. But they didn't follow my #1 rule I gave them. Bring EVERY bag to EVERY station. I had it packed so 3 littler bags fit into 1 easy shoulder strap bag. As I approached the aid station 4, I see BruceBruce coming at me with my shirt and more water. I see K just strolling empty handed. I yelled, "Where's the #$%^&@# bags?!" Bruce says "We got your stuff right here." looking at his hands. I need my first aid bag since a blister was starting to form. One of them takes off back to the car as I change shirts. Wrapped up a toe and headed back out reminding them... "Bring every bag to every station."
To Aid 5 : 4.8 miles
More apples, more beans, more Bloks, more heat, more wind. We were still running on exposed roads and I was taunting the wind gods. I was audiblly yelling "This is all you got!?" It just got stupid. I started to mentally check out here. I knew I was only 1/2 way done and it wasn't going to let up. I refocused and decided I can't change the weather, so I best figure out how to deal with it. This was the mental turning point in my day. Prior to this I felt strong and ready. I was beat down and hot. Approaching the station, I found the crew and requested the shorts. I dropped trou right there on the street. Didn't care who saw my white ass in Kansas. Poured some water on my head, bitched about the conditions and moved on.
To Aid 6 : 3.3 miles
I had pretty much reverted to walking at this point. I was able to manage a trot every now and then when the wind would die down. It felt so much better on my legs to be moving in the running motion but again, felt antiproductive when the wind was strong. My hammies were singing. To give them a different kind of break, I employed my walking-backwards strategy a few times. The crews on the side of the road seemed to really enjoy my insanity. It worked, my legs got a break, my face got a break from the wind. I considered it a win-win. Another blister started, so I was ready for a sock change and more first aid from my crew. But my crew forgot some bags again at the car and had to run back. I yelled. People stared. "Shit changes in a mile. EVERY BAG EVERY TIME." I was pissed when I left.
To Aid 7 : 4.7 miles
It got really hot now. Probably high 80s and not a cloud in the sky. Perfect for running right? I don't remember much of this section except the boat ride.
The bridge had been washed out and never replaced so 8 at a time, you crossed in 2 boats. If it wasn't for my shoes, my ass would have been in that river. It looked sooooooooooooo refreshing. Me coming up the other side.
Found BruceBruce and K. I think they were getting worried as I was slowing down quite a bit. I was exhausted. Since I had taken the shirt off at this point, I tried to coat myself in sun screen for the remainder of the day. Poured more water on my head and told them I'd see an hour or more. Yep, and hour to go 4 miles. It was pathetic but all I could do.
To Aid 8 : 4 miles
The next stretch had us on "gravel" roads and hills. This shit was loose rock. It was not gravel. With blisters on 2 of my piggies on the right foot, I tried to find the most worn parts of the road and avoid any big chunks under those toes. I started taunting the wind gods again. Another solo runner caught up walking with me, so she and I chatted for a stretch. It really helped having someone to talk to. I can see why pacers are so important in these events. The 30 minutes I shared with her gave me some new found mental strength to get through this race. I stopped to stretch a one point and wished her well. Never could catch back up with her. Came into the final aid station for solos. The next "station" was just a drop off point for the relay teams, so I relieved BruceBruce and K of their crew duties and said I'd see them at the finish, in about 2.5 hours. That sucked having to say that. I still had 2.5 hours to go.
To Non-Aid 9 : 4 miles
More hills. I doubled up on water since I wouldn't see the crew again. I was desparately thirsty but knew that I had no salt in me (remember that point from the morning... other runners had take 20+ salt pills during the race) and I would end up sick if I drank too much. I felt like I was on a deserted island rationing my water. And it was so hot out, the water was instantly hot. I scored a fresh bottle from someone else's crew. Their license plate was from Alaska. I figured if anyone had cold water it'd be them. I arrived to the relay drop off really really wanting to say "Hey, pick me up and take me to the finish." No one will know but me that I cheated! But of course, I stayed on track wanting this day to be over with.
To Finish : 4.7 miles
Worst 4.7 miles ever. After the turnaround, you cross some tracks and end up back on a levee in Lawrence. This "levee" is a raised mound of grass/dirt that circles around a huge farm field. You can see miles in front of you. Again. Urg. Then they had plaques every half mile telling you 4.5.... 4.0... STOP. I didn't want to see anything but the finish line. Everyone was walking this stretch around me. Wind, heat, all unbearable again. I backwards walked. I probably would have crawled if I thought it would of helped. I saw an ambulance in the distance and quietly prayed for it to make me stop. Surely they would see I wasn't fit to be out there anymore. My mental strength was leaving me again so I started repeating "left, right, left, right" just to keep my brain occupied. Tried putting myself in different running spots in Indy to help count down.
Towards the end everyone's cheering you on "almost there"... "you're doing great"... to which they all about got a big middle finger from me. I wasn't in the mood. With 1 mile to go, a guy had a sprinkler set up. It felt magical. Where was this all day on the course?! I didn't want to walk it in, so I found my last reserves of energy to run across the bridge and to the finish.
The toe carnage.
BruceBruce and K wanted to interview me, but I was having nothing of it. I was pissed and needed to put some hatred filled closure on what I had just accomplished. I had a bet with Brooks on whether or not I would cry, and I wasn't letting this race get one tear from my body. It took everything else though. I composed myself and sat down to let my followers know "I finished but the ultra won. GAME OVER." Notice my sweet sock lines.
The finished mile marker timeline.
I ran 44 miles in 10.5ish hours and all I got was a sunburn and this....
So, there you have it. Time for my reflective thoughts... I'll interview myself:
Why did you sign up for this race, Natalee? Because I'm stupid and am always looking for a new challenge. If Brooks can do it, I should be able to right? He has CF for pete's sake.
Will you do this race again? Hell to the No.
How did you train for this event? I'm not sure I understand the question.
How did you prepare yourself for the event? Training runs, etc? I did an 8.3 mile run once and then would go out for like an hour a few times a week on the trails.
Is another Ultra in your future? No way. Well. Ummm. Maybe. Yes.
This was the most painful thing I have ever done in my life. It was the most mentally challenged (get it?!) I have ever been. I know I was successful by finishing but it doesn't seem right to call it a success. It was flat out misery at times. I wished the elements would not have been so brutal. No amount of training runs in the midwest could have gotten me ready for the wind and heat. Of course I could have prepared more but that's just not my style! I am happy I did it. I am happy I am alive. I am happy I didn't DNF. I guess there are a lot of positives to still uncover about the race but bottom line... it sucked.
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