Preparing for 100 miles

It seems like 100-milers are the new marathon. Seriously! I have three or four Daily Mile or Twitter friends recently announce they are doing their first 100-miler. And, half of them talk about "training." Of course, whenever I said I was running a 100-miler last summer, most responses from non-ultrarunners were "How do you train for that?" My response was "you don't." You don't find 100M training plans out there... why? Because, if you're gonna run 100 miles, you know what's best for your body; you don't need someone telling you what workouts to do. 

 From June to September, I just ran a lot. There are no 100-mile training calendars because it's not about following a schedule. It's about building endurance and listening to your body so that you don't break. It's about running all night until you want to cry because you’re so tired and still standing up at that aid station to make it to the next one.

As I look forward to my second 100-miler, I thought it'd be nice to go over my Grindstone training, starting from June 5th, my first 50 miler. You'll see that many of my runs were with my running group (WUS), I went hashing, I did VHTRC races--which are a big party, and did a lot of hiking as part of back-to-back weekends. Running took over many aspects of my life. 

The key to preparing for a 100M race is getting advice, leaning what works for you strategically on race day, nutrition, and getting the long run in almost every to every other weekend. I did several runs over 26 miles long.

I had two, minor injuries that were not running related. I rolled my ankle in while I was running drunk at hashing (I sound lame) and I fell in the bathtub and hurt my back (I sound even lamer). Otherwise, I really listened to my body and only ran when I wanted to and when my body felt up to it. This kept running fun and me injured-free!

I did a good bit of strength training, mostly mountain-man reps, core, and hip workouts.

I spent 18 weeks preparing for Grindstone, with the first week my 50-mile qualifying race. You can see that I didn't run many miles; focused on the long run, recovering from that, and spending time on the trails.

Week 1:

Run 1: 2 miles

Run 2: 7.5 trail miles

Run 3: 50 trail miles - North Face Endurance Challenge

Total distance: 59.1 miles

Total time: 13:16

Week 2:

Run 1: 13.1 miles

Run 2: 4.5 miles

Total distance: 17.6

Total time: 2:57

Week 3:

Core workout (30 min)

Run 1: 10 trail miles - WUS run

Run 2:10 miles

Run 3: 13.5 miles

Run 4: 10 miles

Total distance: 43.5

Total time: 7:01

Week 4:

Strength training (1 hour)

Run 1:7 trail miles

Strength training (30 min)

Run 2: 9.5 miles - fartlek

Run 3: 4.2 miles - hashing **rolled ankle**

One hour doing exorcist stairs reps

Total distance: 22 miles

Total time: 6:07

Week 5:

Run 1:12.25 miles

Strength training (30 min)

Run 2: 6.27 miles

Run 3: hashing (3-5 miles)

Run 4: 25 trail miles

Total distance: 43.5

Total time: 9:34

Week 6:

Strength training (30 min)

Run 1:6.3 trail miles - WUS

Run 2:5 trail miles

Run 3:7 miles

Run 4: 32 trail miles - Skyline 50k

Hiking: 7 miles

Total distance: 55.42

Total time: 13:45

Week 7:

Strength training (30 min)

Run 1: 8.9 miles - WUS

Run 2: 3.73 miles

Run 3:4.78 miles - hashing

*moved this weekend with my parents visiting

Total distance: 17.41

Total time: 3:36

Week 8: 

Run 1: 8.94 trail miles

Run 2:7.5 trail miles - WUS

Run 3: 6.72 trail miles

Run 4:31.05 trail miles - Catherine's FA 50k

Hiking: 9 miles

Total distance: 63.25

Total time:18:11

Week 9:

Strength training (30 min)

Run 1: 8.4 trail miles - WUS

Run 2: 7.1 trail miles

Run 3: 3.1 miles - Battle for Ballston 5k

Run 4:26.2 miles - my solo effort towpath marathon

Total distance: 44.8

Total time: 8:54

Week 10:

Run 1: 6.35 trail miles - WUS

Run 2: 4.1

Run 3: 30 miles

Total distance: 40.45

Week 11:

Run 1: 6.35 trail miles - WUS run

Run 2: 7.74 trail miles

Run 3: 3.5 miles

Total distance: 18.6

Total time: 3:56

Week 12:

Run 1: 3.5 miles

Run 2: 3.73 miles

Run 3: 7.78 trail miles

Run 4: 6.43 trail miles

Run 5: 27.5 trail miles

Total distance: 48.93

Total time: 10:51

Week 13:

Run 1: 6.5 trail miles - WUS

Run 2: 9 trail miles

Run 3: 6 trail miles

Hiking 13 miles

Hiking: 13 miles

Total distance: 45.44

Total time:15:58

Week 14:

Run 1: 8.3 trail miles

Run 2: 13.5 trail miles - WUS

Run 3: 7.68 trail miles

Run 4: 4.18 miles

Run 5: 38 trail miles - The Ring

Total distance: 72 miles

Total time:17:17

TAPER:

Week 15: 33 miles, 6:49

Week 16: 32 miles, 6:26

Week 17, 28 miles, 5:55

Race week:

Run 1: 3 miles

Run 2: 4 miles

Race: 101.87 miles, 32:06

2011

Looking at my 2010 goals post I realized that this year was a big failure... in the best way. I got promoted instead of getting a new job, I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life, I'm not out of debt (and never will be with my student loans), and I did not get a marathon PR.

I did finish my 100 mile race, and last year I said " I would love to do Grindstone on my birthday, but I want to work toward a better marathon PR. ... Its a hard goal to give up, since I said that I'd do it, but I really will one day! Its just not the best for this year." I also said "I love running with all I have, so I'm doubting whether I'd be good at storing my energy for something like a 100k or 100M race." Silly Brittany had decided against something she never tried!

Seeing as I didn't do anything I planned on doing last year, is there really a point to this post. Do I need to recap my year and outline goals for 2011?

Why not?

My Goals:

1. Start running again. (Kind of important)
2. Two 100M finishes: MMT and Pine to Palm
3. Place in an ultra. (I always get 4th or 5th and it's kind of annoying)
4. Run in all minimalist shoes.
5. Keep up strength training year-round.
6. Get out West for a race at altitude (and a vacation).
7. Don't get injured.

I think these are good goals. I just need to get my IT Band healthy!

(Running miles by month. Don't include hiking miles.)

I said 2010 was a failure, but it really was a great year. I jumped into trail running, ultras, and I discovered something I love even more than road running. I didn't get any PRs, but I reached new distance goals with my first 50k, 50M, and 100M races. I also ran a fast 20k in 1:31. I placed fourth in my first 50k and fifth in my first 100M. I pushed myself more than I ever had, and learned a lot. Not just about trail running, but about what I'm capable of.

Daily Mile provided a page with all my 2010 stats: http://www.dailymile.com/people/BrittanyZ/training/2010/summary

10 Things I did in 2010:

1. Ran 1,453 miles.
2. Burned off 1,066 doughnuts.
3. Raced 6 ultras.
4. Raced 3 marathons.
5. New distance PRs at 101.87 miles (32:03), 50 miles (11:20), and 50k (6:33).
6. Did one 5k at the exact time as my last (and first) one. Damn.
7. Learned how to swim.
8. Got promoted (twice).
9. Moved into a group house with awesome access to Rock Creek Park.
10. Lost my anal virginity.*

*Kidding. That was 2009.

Just because I need a happy post

One of my running friends told me I needed to update my blog. The first post is a heavy, depressing post, and I haven't talked much about running on twitter either. I haven't even been doing a good job at updating Daily Mile. Thanks, for pointing out that I suck. Here are my 5 things Friday.

1. INJURY UPDATE
First, an update on my IT band issue. This is not going away! Especially not as easily as it did last time. Often, it wont feel tight, my foam rolling barely hurts, but then after running a few miles, my knee is feeling a good bit of pain. It's very odd. I want to crack and see a physical therapist, but that just seems lame. I should be foam rolling more. And suddenly, it's Friday and I haven't gone to the gym all week! Oops?

2. I GOT INTO THE MMT LOTTERY!
I don't know why I'm planning on running MMT. Every time I've been out there, I've had an awful run. But, I guess that's why I want to do it. At the same time, after running the Ring, we were driving home on 81 and I used my map to figure out which mountain we were looking at, and it was incredible to see how far I ran and how beautiful the ridge is. When I started running with Happy Trails, I couldn't figure out why so many races were in those mountains and why everyone loved them so much.... but I think I'm catching on!

3. TRAIL FUN
Just because I'm injured doesn't mean I've abandoned the trails! My boyfriend and I did a fun hiking trip in VA a few weeks ago and did a hike to Bird Knob and Great North Mountain. It was cold, windy, quiet, and wonderful. We saw prints from a large cat (bobcat?) and I got to see even more of the Massanutten area.

Last weekend, Jon and I finally met up for a run. We're both fighting off injuries and are sort of new to ultrarunning. We walk/ran/skipped our way along the perimeter of Rock Creek Park (15ish miles) in the cold rain. We couldn't stop talking, jumped into puddles, and had a really good time. It felt great to get back out on the trail and get some running in.

I really love my house. On Wednesday night, I skipped my workout, and Brian comes home and nearly drove me crazy until I finally agreed to run with him. We ran to my boyfriend's apartment and then he ran back to our place. It's about 4 trail miles. We had deep discussions about the meaning of life... as per usual.

4. NEW TRAINING CALENDAR
I really wanted a new calendar that I could use for planning workouts and races. I made it with Keep and Share and finally started planning out the Spring... which is already full!

January 15-16: MLK Training weekend (I doubt I'll be ready for this) - 32.6 miles and 26.7
January 22: Eagle Run
February 5: Uwharrie run- 40 miles
February 19: MMT Training Academy #2 - 50k
March 12 - Elisabeth Furnace - 50k
March 26 - Terrapin Mountain - 50k
April 9 - Bull Run run - 50 miles
April 23 - Promise Land - 50k
April 23 - Chocolate Bunny - 32.3/40 miles
May 14 - MMT - 100 miles

That gives me an ultra almost every other weekend. Which is perfect for MMT training. And yes, I'm thinking of running two 50ks on April 23rd. I'm aware that I can't run yet, but that's a minor detail.

6. NEW SHOES
Even though I'm not running, I've gotten three new pairs of running shoes.

First, I got a pair of Gore-Tex Inov-8s for running in the snow. I haven't run in them yet because I think I need a bigger size, but they feel pretty good! A little heavier than what I'm used to, but I find the Inov-8 footbeds to fit really well.

 

Another pair of Inov-8s I got are the Roclite 305s, in the hope that they may keey my feet from catching fire during MMT. I was shopping for my old shoes, only to find that Inov-8 cut all but 3 women's styles, while there were 21 men's styles. I sent them a tweet, and they responded that most of their shoes are unisex. These are made for men, but they fit me really well. I've been running in them a handful of times, and I think they are a good balance. There is still a low heel, but a good bit of cushioning. I've found that, like my other Inov-8s, they don't have the traction for wet rocks. I almost fell several times in Rock Creek. 

I updated my WT100s with the WT101s. They are the same light shoe, but I was disappointed that they didn't lessen that achilles support. It's led to some bad blisters int he past, and I remember reading that they were planning on doing that. The support structure makes it look a little flashy, and I find myself missing my WT100s when I wear them.

That said, I do love New Balance shoes, and I leave you with a pretty sweet video. It will make you want to disappear into the mountains asap. I also have a mild crush on Tony Krupicka.

Have a fabulous weekend!

Reflections on life, death, injuries, and other lightweight matters

(Disclaimer: My title was stolen from the VHTRC list-serve)

For the past few weeks, the VHTRC listserve has been filled with e-mails about Mike Broderick, a Happy Trail member who recently died of lung cancer, only 4 weeks after he was suddenly diagnosed, and who just completed Western States four months ago.  Stories like that hit everyone, even newcomers like me who didn't know him, because ultrarunners like to think we're strong, invincible, and able to overcome whatever life throws at us... even death. All my housemates went to the funeral, friends changed their facebook pictures to photos with Mike, and paid tribute through a blog post. It was sad to see my friends mourn a loss of another running partner, friend, and coach.

Within a week of his funeral, I got a text message from my cousin that an old friend of mine, Anne Jackson, a cross country runner at Nyack college in NY, collapsed while out for an evening run and died before her family made it to the hospital. She was a senior in college (with a 3.97 GPA--holy cow!), 21 years old, and had not a bad bone in her body. She was young, healthy, and there was no known pre-existing condition. It was so sudden and shocking, and her friends, now scattered across the country, are mourning the sudden loss of a runner and friend. I can't imagine how her family, close friends, and teammates are handling this tragedy. My thoughts and prayers have been with them every waking moment since hearing of her death.

Yesterday, after hearing the news, I stumbled onto another blog with a tribute to Mike, and I was almost angry. His life shouldn't be mourned; he had really lived, he had fair warning, he completed races around the world and had touched so many lives that police were needed to direct traffic to his funeral. Anne was too young, it was too sudden, and it all of it too shocking and unfair.

I became friends with Anne through our church when I was around 14 years old. She was two years younger than me, but we had the same group of friends. We lived near each other and so we would often carpool to events or meet up on weekdays. I have so many wonderful memories that include her, and I don't remember one in which she was not smiling... looking through her facebook pictures, I swear that she is glowing in every one.

Moving away from home to go to college is tough. She stayed close friends with everyone in Buffalo, and was the Maid of Honor at our friend's wedding earlier this year. Unlike me. I barely talk to my friends anymore. I think a comment on a facebook photo about the beautiful wedding pictures is sufficient... I didn't even send a card. I envy her ability to stay close with our friends, and I've been hearing from them throughout the last 24 hours. Things like "I feel like I should tell you I love you..because I do! and I never said it enough to anne..and I certainly don't say it enough to you." What kind of person does it make me that I haven't spoken to people that I considered my best friends five year ago, in years? Is it time and miles that bring people apart, or is it people?

And what of the friends and relationships I have now? Already, since it isn't as convenient as when we were in college, I make little room for my closest girlfriends and sorority sisters. I'm fighting an injury, and I wonder what will ever happen if I am out for months on end. If I get seriously injured, will I keep my friendships and ties with the running community I've jumped into, or will I lose them as friends too? I am thankful that while miles have hurt friendships in the past, they build friendships today.

Runners are supposed to be patient people. When we get injured we should build miles up slowly. We shouldn't race too much too quick. We all schedule only 1-2 big races a year. I keep getting told I don't need to do every big race in my first few years of running. Recent events have put into perspective that maybe we shouldn't be patient. You never know when you'll get injured, get in a car accident, or have one of your vital organs fail you. I might not be able to run Western States in 2012 or 13... and it's awful bold to think I will be.

Last night, I wanted to go out for a run for Anne. In a way, to let out all the frustrations of the week and the sadness that I feel guilty for feeling. I walked for about 5 minutes and then tried running again. I was able to run for about two minutes before my IT band felt tight. I stopped and walked home, knowing that the only way it will heal is by resting it. After just completing my 100 mile race (101.87, actually) less than two months ago, I've had to deal with a tight IT Band that kept me from doing well at MCM and kept me out of my running shoes for weeks. Even though I have never felt more strong and able, I cannot overcome this injury.
 
And that's what I've learned recently, as a runner and a person, that even when we feel our stongest, we're still weak and fragile.

MCM - Halloween edition

On Sunday, I ran the Marine Corps Marathon for the 3rd time.  I wore my friend Ann's bib, and removed the chip.  Yes, this is generally frowned upon but it's not my fault marathons tend to have giant sticks up their ass and charge a ridiculous bib transfer fee.

On Saturday night I was inspired to dress up like a zombie.  This is why I wanted to do MCM to begin with! I went to CVS to buy black eye make-up and red lipstick when I ran into Brian, who was on his way to get a bib from a guy in Arlington.  I was excited I'd have a housemate headed to the race with me. I made my costume: I ripped up a 5k t-shirt and shorts, lined the rips with lipstick, and wrote "First rule of Zombieland: CARDIO" on the back. 

We decided to leave a little late because I'm always sitting around the start line forever. But, I didn't anticipate a 15 minute metro wait. We were totally screwed. We got to the Pentagon City metro at 8:05 when the race had already started. It wouldn't have been so bad if we knew where the start was. We were in a car with two guys and we all ran out of the metro station. When we got to a broken escalator (typical) the two guys ran up it when Brian and I slowed to a walk at the exact same time. We burst into laughter... it was the most typical road runner v. trail runner scenario imaginable.

There were no directions to the start. We were running around, hitting dead ends, and wearing ourselves out. Finally, we figured out the route to the start, and we were probably 2 miles into the run. As we neared the start, a spectator yelled "You're almost there! You can do it!" #clever

Brian and I jumped into the start just moments before the police cars that trailed behind the last runners.  There was a sea of slow runners and walkers to work through for the first several, several miles. Brian disappeared ahead of me (and finished in 3:09! Incredible!) and I let go of any hope of getting anywhere near my PR or a BQ time. It was like a fartlek: run slow behind a group then speed up the moment a window opens. My only forseeable problem at the time was a blister that already bothered me at mile 3: the most epic blister ever! It literally takes up 1/3rd of my foot.

The race flew by. I couldn't believe when we hit a new mile marker. I got a little bored, started a few conversations, listened to some good music, and started a list of why I like trail running better.  This is what I came up with:

Trail Ultramarathons	Road Marathons
Better aid stations with food and awesome volunteers who feed you and fill up water bottles.	More water stations so you don’t have to carry water—but almost no food.
Made a wrong decision and wore old shoes?  Change them at your drop bag.	Made the wrong decision and wore old shoes?  You’re fucked.
Lots of trees.	Lots of spectators with funny signs.
Run alone or with a group of friends.  Single-tracks usually get crowded at the beginning but thin out over the first few miles.	Run through massive crowds with people cutting you off and getting knocked over.
Built in walk breaks up mountains.  But, this means more time on your feet.	You have to run it all—and fast.  But, at least you can run it fast.
You have to carry all your garbage.	Volunteers pick up all the garbage.
Friends, housemates, or boyfriend chauffeur me to start.	Metro.  Fuck.  Metro.
You can’t get lost in a loud iPod.  People might need to pass, and you need to listen for rattlesnakes and bears.	You can just ignore everyone and blare your iPod to get you through the race… even though they discourage it.
You can find your friends easily; there is hardly anyone else there.	Trying to find one person in a sea of 35,000 people is impossible.
The trail is gentler on your body.  Unless you’re running on rocks.	The constant pounding on roads hurts more.
Always exciting with falls, wild animals, mountains, stream crossings, etc.	You run a road the whole time.  Sort of boring.
You are sleep deprived and bleed real blood.	To look like a zombie you need black eye make-up and red lipstick.
Pictures from event are free.	Pictures from event cost at least $40.
Gear is more expensive.	All you need are the running basics.
Usually in the middle of nowhere.  Requires rental car.	Located in accessible cities.  (Metro.  Fuck.  Metro)
You run through streams.	You run on bridges over rivers.
At mile 19 you realize you have 83 miles left.	At mile 19 you realize you have 7 miles left.
Better value per mile.	Usually very expensive.
Serene and quiet—unless running with Snipes.	People bring cowbells and scream at you as if muscles feed off noise.
After the finish, you can sit right down and start drinking beer and eating food.	After the finish, you are stuck in an unmoving crowd for an hour.  Still standing.
At sunset you are still running.	At sunset you are on the couch watching a movie.

At mile 22 I ran into my hasher friends and I hung out too long and had 4 (or 6) cups of beer. I ran into thisamazingday and stopped to chat.  I thought my 4 hour goal was totally do-able.  Then, my IT band really started to act up and I was really slowed down at the end. I pushed through it and unofficially finished in 4:00:32.

At 6:00:32, I made it through the start area and headed to Chadwicks where I drank several glasses of champagne, then stumbled/limped home (it was to make my costume better, I swear). But I woke up this morning with sore quads, and achy IT band, a swollen ankle, and low energy. It doesn't matter if I proved I can run 100 miles, 26.2 still isn't easy.

Grindstone 100

Start/finish line, picture courtesy of Bobby Gill

Most people don't celebrate their 23rd birthday with a 100-mile race.  I'm pretty sure that my finishing Grindstone was against all odds.  Of the 106 starters, only 72 finished, and only 6 of us were women (11 showed up).  Not only was I a 100-miler virgin who picked the hardest one on the East Coast because it was local and started on my birthday (it was destiny), but I've been running trails for uh… 7 months.  The first time I even climbed up a mountain was after I signed up for it (confession).

At the start, picture courtesy of Bobby Gill

As the race approached, I was hit with exactly how long 100 miles is.  I recognized that this wouldn't be all fun and games.  Grindstone would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.  I would likely spend most of it miserable.  I got to the race somewhat excited but honestly, I was not up for it. This course was going to chew me up.

The best advice I received was from Quatro, who told me “Don't run 100.  Just run from aid station to aid station.  It'll be all good - next thing you know, you will find yourself back where you started.”  I always did this during ultras, but I had never thought to really only think about each section and nothing else.  Anytime I let my mind wander to what I did or had yet to do, I told myself to forget it.  All that mattered was getting to the next aid station.  So, this is how I broke up my race report.  It was a somewhat uneventful race, but beware, it’s a long report!

Splits can be found at my eco-x runner page.

Start! Picture courtesy of Bobby Gill

 Start to Falls Hollow

Brian and I signed up for Grindstone together and so we ran the first mile together (how corny and sentimental, I know).  He’s the one who made me change from the North Face 50k to the 50 miler and sign up for the race.  The first portion was rocky but quick, and I knew the race didn’t really start until we got started on summitting Elliot Knob.

Me and Brian, ready to go

 Falls Hollow to Dry Branch Gap

Getting to Elliot Knob requires about 3,000 feet of climbing, two stream crossings (the day after 3 inches of rain), and a 1.5 mile climb up a crazy steep gravel road.  I played leapfrog on the still-crowded trail, and I ran a lot of the gentle uphills, the flats, and got my feet wet.  It got dark, and I was glad I couldn’t see the never-ending road.  It wasn’t as bad during the race as my hike (since we didn’t have 95 degree weather), but a cold breeze hit me on that road.  After the summit, I had never seen the rest of the trail in this section.

It was nasty.  I’m still scarred from my Ring experience in the Massanutten and I was not happy to see all the rocks!  I even yelled out to the group I was in "I thought MMT was the rocky one!" There was a little ridge running, and then the descent was switchbacks along a rock trail with a scary drop off.  I heard and saw Snipes and his group ahead of me, but mostly ran it by myself with my iPod.  I’m surprised I did this portion in less than 4 mph because was near impossible to run a lot of this and I wasn’t happy to give up a running descent.  But, it’s ok, I had plenty of chances later!

Mile 1.5

Dry Branch Gap to Dowells Draft

The main motivation for this section was seeing my crew at the next aid station.  We went over Crawford Mountain and this was probably my favorite section of the whole race.  There were rolling hills interspersed with steeper climbs on the way up and then I flew down it.  I’ve really just got the hang of running down technical trails about 2 months ago, and I totally put it to work.  I was laughing the whole time and had a blast.  I’m pretty sure that running down a mountainside is the closest thing to flying that man can get on its own.  I passed a man and yelled “this downhill is amazing!” and it really was.  I knew that if I didn’t let myself just fly down the hills, my knees would be destroyed.  If I wanted to finish, I needed to hold off the brakes and just go.  I flew through this section and had a blast.

Heading out of Dowells Draft, picture courtesy of Bobby Gill

My crew was amazing and Tyler got me out of the aid station in 7.5 minutes.  I ate butternut squash (it was perfect) and got refueled and on my merry way.

Dowells Draft to Lookout Mountain

This was another great section.  I made a friend and getting to talk and meet new people on the trail is always one of my favorite things.  He ended up deciding he couldn’t keep up and I ran ahead.  It ended with several miles downhill on a fire road that I took really easily.  The aid station came up sooner than I thought and it was the best aid station of the race (both times through).  The people were so supportive and energetic.  They screamed and clapped when they saw you coming, they had coffee, they were super helpful, and it really lifted my spirits.

I hit 30 miles in 7:08, only 45 minutes slower than my 50k PR.

Lookout Mountain to North River Gap

I had done Lookout Mountain as a hike, but I completely forgot how rocky it was.  It was really late and dark, and I started getting spooked.  A log was a wolf.  The moon was a fire.  A stick was a snake.  It was silent, I didn’t see anyone, and I was letting my imagination get the best of me.  I focused on my iPod and the trail, and belted out to Miley Cyrus.  I know, you thought I was hardcore until you read that.  But who can resist Party in the USA?

Coming into the next aid station, I was excited to see my crew and I finally decided road running was ok.  Running down the road to the aid station, the crescent moon was visible through a tree gap and the sky was covered in stars.  It was such a clear, gorgeous night!

There was a weigh-in at the TWOT lot and I had lost one pound.  Not bad for 35 miles, but I made a note to continue to hydrate.

North River Gap to Little Bald Knob

I knew this was the worst part of the race.  The 7-mile climb just got worse and worse.  I tried to run the flats and the downhills, and the climbs killed me.  I think I pushed it too hard.  I reached the “bald knob” that was covered in grassy meadows, but there was no aid station.  The mileage was off and instead of 7.74 miles, it was 8.83.  I was cold, tired, and was frustrated that the aid station wasn’t where it should be.  I saw Sean pacing the leader in and Keith, who was kicking ass as usual.  Finally, I got there and sat by the fire and had three cups of soup.  I dropped my pack, grabbed an extra handheld with some gels and salts in the pocket and ran toward Reddish knob feeling quite miserable. 

Little Bald Knob to Reddish Knob

Even though this was an easy piece of trail (other than the mud) I took it pretty slow.  My feet hurt, I was exhausted, and not feeling hot about the run.  I saw the first woman on her way back and Brian, who looked fantastic.

Before really getting to the Reddish Knob station, you have to summit it.  I caught up to Snipes and a group of us dropped our things and walked up the asphalt road. 

The view from Reddish Knob made the entire 47 miles to get there worth it.  We arrived as the sun rose and the 360-degree view of the Northern Virginia and West Virginia mountains was amazing.  I remembered seeing the intersection of the Black and White desert in Egypt and being motivated to travel and do more with my life if the world had places like that to offer.  I was sure that was one of the most beautiful, unreal views I’d ever see and the view from Reddish Knob topped it.

The mountains looked blue, and you could see about 8 ridges, the last topped with a line of red to bright pink.  The valleys were filled with fog and this really lifted my spirits.  It inspired me to want to run more trail races if this is what ultrarunning has to offer.

The aid station had brown sugar poptarts.  ‘Nuff said.

Still running at mile 66, picture courtesy of Bobby Gill

 Reddish Knob to Briary Branch and back to Reddish Knob

I thought for sure that when I saw my crew again, I’d take a nap.  I saw Mario on the way out and he said that he did it last year and woke up a new man and had a negative split.  I half ran the road down because my feet were throbbing.  I was worried I wouldn’t be able to run any more of the race.  I was determined to nap.

I got in, left my iPod to charge, changed my socks and shoes, and felt like a new woman!! The difference between my Inov-8 and Masochists was crazy.  I was so excited that I could run again! Mark took me to the turn around, and now I was headed back to the finish.  I saw Doug and Steve Pero and walked a lot back to Reddish Knob due to exhaustion.

Reddish Knob to Little Bald Knob

I barely stopped at Reddish Knob and had a tough time with this whole middle section.  I wasn’t feeling great when I got to Little Bald, especially knowing what was ahead.  I decided to cave and take some painkillers and holy crap, they worked!

Weigh-in at TWOT, picture courtesy of Bobby Gill

 Little Bald Knob to North River Gap

I don’t know if it was the painkillers or knowing that I’d be picking up my pacer, but I ran a lot of the descent into the TWOT lot.  I hung out and chatted with some cool people, listened to my iPod, and ran all but the very steep and rocky descent… which was most of the trail.  I knew if I ran those, I would have to put the brakes on and I might not be able to run downhill for the rest of the race.  Again, this section never ended and just got worse and worse.  I came into North River Gap saying that it was an evil trail.  Then I got weighed and found out I gained that pound back and I made a joke about running for 20 hours and not even losing a pound.  I was able to get down a rice and bean burrito (a little one) and my pacer and I went out for the finish.

Me and James out of North River Gap, picture courtesy of Bobby Gill

North River Gap to Lookout Mountain

James and I hauled up Lookout.  We made excellent time and started chatting about everything.  I could run well and I felt amazing.  He was surprised I had so much energy, and I was too!  The huge bummer about getting to this aid station was seeing Brian there shrugging and telling us he DNFed.  His ankle was irritated and swollen.  Since Brian and I were in this together, it was tough to know he was out. 

Lookout Mountain to Dowells Draft

From North River Gap, James and I passed 10 people through these sections.  He was really pulling me along and making me run everything that wasn’t uphill.  I felt so great, and I can’t believe I felt like this after how miserable I was earlier.  I remembered ultrarunnergirl telling me to remember that it doesn’t always get worse, and that was great advice.  James and I just had great conversation and he had so much energy.   One of the best things about having a pacer was being able to look forward to meeting him and then drawing energy from him.  It made me feel so fresh!

Dowells Draft to Dry Branch Gap

Clark Zealand is a sadist.  There are two, 2,000 ft, 4 mile (ish) climbs in the last 10 miles of this course.  It was hard to focus on just this section knowing I had to do it again.  The sun started going down, and James had heard it was 5 miles hard, 4 miles easy, and so we tried to run the easy parts.  It started off as a nice run and then we took the climb pretty hard.  Once the climb was over I told him I was finished running. No more running for me.  He says “But look what you just did… its like waking up Sunday morning and saying you’ll never drink again and then by Wednesday you’re out at a bar.” 

We took it slow for a moment to get our energy back.  This is when I started losing it mentally.  I was seeing crows everywhere, and sticks looked like they were twisted into some type of voo doo doll.  The sunset made the trees look like I was seeing the course ribbons everywhere.

James said we should try to run a quarter mile.  So, we did and I started to feel really good.  We got to a descent and I just leaned forward and ran effortlessly again (seriously, I just loved Crawford Mountain both ways).  When we hit the rolling hills part, running up the slight uphill rocked.  It was all new muscles being used and we tore through that section.

Me and my awesome pacer, picture courtesy of Bobby Gill

 Dry Branch Gap to Falls Hollow

The sun was down when we left the aid station, with just one to go.  I remember ultrarunnergirl also saying that at one point, you will want nothing more than to stop, and that’s where the race begins.

This is where Grindstone began.

The 4-mile climb on the rocks was downright dangerous.  I was cold and wobbly and the rocks were not stable.  For the first time, I sat down on the course.  James was smart and made me take some salts, gels, and water while I sat.  It was a really, really awful stretch.  When we finally hit the gravel road, I tried running but it didn’t work well.  I fell once and another time just sat right down, hugged my knees, and tried to muster up the strength to go on.  If it were possible for someone to drive up the gravel road, I would have quit right there.

When we were off the road and the ridge and finally out of the breeze and cold, I sat down again and was seriously so far gone.  James dragged me over the streams and we got a little running in on the jeep path.  When we hit the last aid station I ran (or walked) straight into Tyler’s arms and started crying.

I couldn’t fathom being out there for another few hours.  I put pants on, I ate (was hand fed) crackers, I closed my eyes, I cried, and I really felt awful.  I spent 23 minutes there and almost locked myself in the car so I could sleep because they wouldn’t let me.  Tyler literally had to drag me out of the car and push me back onto the trail. 

Falls Hollow to the Finish

I’ve never been so slow in my life.  I even needed a walking stick to handle the terrain at this point.  I was so slow but just kept moving and the miles came onto my watch so slowly.  When I finally hit 100 miles, James congratulated me and we discussed this whole “101.87” thing.  Can you imagine if you’re signed up for a marathon and you check out the elevation profile and it said 28.17?  Seriously, why can they do that in a 100-miler?! It just wasn’t fair.  We hit the 1 mile to go sign when I thought we had about 8/10ths and so that was a major bummer. Then James says, “look behind you”

There were 2 headlamps.

“Let’s move!” We did some running with some walking and I still had my stick.  Then I heard a female voice. I was not giving up my 5^th place finish in the last ½ mile. Hell no! (FYI, she was a pacer)  I threw my walking stick and took off.  My pacer fell, and I left him there and damn near sprinted across the lake (ok, around it, I cannot run on water - and I really did sprint. I got my pace down to 7:23 min/mi!) and then got lost for the first time about a tenth of a mile away.  I ran through the flume and then stopped, done!  I did it!  Clark Zealand then told me I had to actually cross the finish line, and I got my first belt buckle and hugged the totem pole.

Finish photo

 I don’t believe (still) that I made it.  I made it to the finish line uninjured, with no nutrition problems, perfect hydration/sodium balance, a tough finish, but a good race, and a great time.

Totem pole hug

Thank you to Tyler and James, I couldn’t have done it without either of you.  The ultrarunning community is truly amazing.  Everyone has been so eager to help me, to share their knowledge, to give me a ton of advice and encouragement.  Grindstone was a success not just because I finished, but because it introduced me to so many great people.  There are few things I am more proud of than being able to call myself a 100-mile finisher and an ultrarunner.

Grindstone... its here!

If you wanna follow updates, Tyler (my crew) will be updating my twitter page, accessible at www.twitter.com/beezales

Eat extra calories for me this weekend!