The Bear Lake Report (alternate title: I'm not dead)

It's been three weeks since the Bear Lake triple marathon. Three long weeks in which maybe some of my dear readers thought I had died in my attempt. Since I am writing this, it is apparent that I did not perish.

Let me take you on a journey that covers three days, three states, and 78.6 miles. It is a tale fraught with peril, triumph, and the agony of the feet.

The Bear Lake adventure started out innocently enough. Scott and I drove up to meet with the rest of our party, Jamie, Teresa, and Desaray, in Logan to gather supplies for the weekend. There's nothing like 5 stressed out runners trying to make sure they're buying enough food for the upcoming weekend. The cashier was pretty impressed/horrified by the amount of food that was purchased for such short period of time.

We got everything loaded into the two cars and made our way to packet pick up in Montpelier, Idaho. When we arrived, we were showered with copious amounts of race swag.

We foolishly told the race director that we would be running the secret fourth day race on Sunday. Because I wasn't ready to run three marathons in three days, so I should totally act like I could run one more on the fourth day. But we'll get to that.

We made our way over to our home for the weekend, found that it was on the second floor and had no elevator, and lugged our ludicrous amount of gear and food up two flights of stairs. Scott cooked a tasty pasta dinner for us while we foam rolled and tried to come to terms with what was about to happen. Jamie and I were in for the three full marathons, while Teresa and Desaray were in for the three half marathons. Scott was set to run the half marathon on Saturday.

The alarm went off at 3:30 a.m. on Thursday morning and the adventure began in earnest.

Day one: Location: Cokeville, Wyoming.
Fun fact about Cokeville, Wyoming: they had a miracle.
They also have a really long, hilly road that we got to run on.

For the first one, I decided not to take the early start and start with all the fastholes. The course would be open until 1 p.m., surely I would be able to finish before that. I'm always so funny.

Trying to look excited for what's about to happen. Photo courtesy of Jamie Eckles.

When we started, I watched nearly the entire pack pull away from me like I was standing still. I immediately regretted my choice of skipping the early start. One or two runners were back where I was and one in particular wanted to be quite chatty, until she realized that my pace was "just a little slow" for her. I've been running slowly in races for long enough that this didn't bother me much. It's my pace for my race, and that's how I get it done.

I mostly enjoyed myself for the first 10 or so miles. I wasn't making amazing time, but I thought I would finish somewhere around six and a half hours. The course was an out and back, and it seemed like we were going mostly uphill so I was looking forward to the turn-around. My physical state started to slip somewhere around mile 11, though, and once I hit the turn around the course still felt like it was still uphill.

The strange thing for me was how well I was doing mentally. Everyone was so far ahead of me, but I could just see one girl way up ahead, and there happened to be one woman who was walking the whole thing quite a bit behind me. I wasn't totally alone, but it felt like it. I figured I would make the most out of the solitude and  sing loudly and badly as I went along. I also talked to the cows that were pastured along the course, because why not.

This road goes on forever. And ever. And ever. 

Scott was running up the course to meet me to get his miles in for the day and see me through to the finish. I was supposed to be a lot farther along than I was, so he ended up with plenty of bonus miles. I basically had to walk the last 8 miles. I would try to run here and there but every time that I did, my feet would just hurt. That was the biggest problem of day one, extreme foot pain. I really didn't think that would pop up until the second day. Oh well.

Scott just walked with me and kept me company, which was nice after being alone for most of the day. I didn't even sprint to the finish. I waited until it was pretty darn close and then kind of shuffled in under the arch. It was a rough finish. I came in at 7 hours and 21 minutes. 21 minutes after the course "closed". The great thing about these races, though, is that they allow everyone to finish, the course support just ends. Thank goodness.

We went and got ourselves some celebratory raspberry shakes. Which turned out to be a bad idea after a long race with no real food in our stomachs. Lesson learned. We finally got some real food, had a little time to wind down, and then it was off to bed so that we could get up crazy early and do it all over again.

Day two: Location: Montpelier, Idaho.
Fun fact: Montpelier, Idaho: there are carved bear statues everywhere. EVERYWHERE.
It was also my favorite course of the three.

I opted for the early start this time, but had a hard time getting going in the morning and we got there just a few minutes late. I had to scramble to get going and chase down the rest of the runners. The course was point to point this time and extremely lovely. I was surprised at how well I was moving on stiff legs.

Some shots from the course. 

This was also a fairly flat course, until we hit the dirt road section, and even that wasn't too bad The weather was much cooler on the second day, and that coupled with my early start left me feeling surprisingly good. I always do better when it's cool. All of the fast runners started to catch up with me around mile 9, as we were running through an open range with cows running towards us. That made for some fun moments.

Stock photo of cows. I wasn't about to stop and take a picture as they ran down the road at me. 

I survived the open range and made it back to the paved road where more and more of the regular start people whizzed on by. By around mile 11, I was starting to struggle. I felt like I did during Behind the Rocks, where I was so tired that I couldn't really keep my eyes open. Nothing like going into a torpor when you still have 16 miles to go. I stumbled along, just trying to keep moving. For some reason, I didn't even think to eat something and take my electrolyte pills. I struggled on for another mile before I realized that a boost of calories and some salt may make a difference. Runner brain is a real thing, guys. And it's not pretty.

After I finally got a gel in my system with some electrolytes and a caffeine pain pill, I was nearly a brand new person. I was able to pick the pace back up again and make better progress. At this point, most of the fastys had passed by and I was alone again. So I decided to go back to what worked the day before to keep my spirits up: singing loudly and badly, with a few sweet dance moves thrown in. I also had packed some real food with me for this one and I actually thought to eat some of it later on during the race.

I love me some creepy old buildings. 

Scott decided to drive up and down the course this time, since our "run" the day before was much less than stellar. This proved to be quite a bonus to me. It meant he could bring me a cold Coke to drink. There's nothing like a cold soda during a long race. I don't care if it's good for me or not because for just that little while, it makes you feel like everything is going to be fine.

Not only could he bring me liquid joy, he could also take pictures as I went along. 

I had been moving along at a slow but steady pace and was able to keep it going, which continually surprised me. But that doesn't mean that I wasn't thrilled to see this welcomed sign.

Yaaaaassssssss.

That last mile actually went by rather quickly. I think this was due to the fact that I couldn't see the finish line until it was right upon me. I turned a corner and there it was! And wouldn't you know it, I finished only four minutes slower than the day before. I have no idea how it happened, but it may have just been my previous ultra training kicking in to save my sorry butt.

Then it was back to the hotel to start recovering yet again and going to bed early. I did make myself go and spend some time in the pool, allowing my warm leg muscles a chance to cool off. Everyone was a little more subdued after day two was over. Scott whipped us up another tasty dinner of steaks and mashed potatoes and we were back in bed before the sun went down.

Day three: Location: Laketown, Utah.
Fun fact: bald eagles nest there during the summer. I know because I saw them.
This race was also horrible for 22 miles.

Jamie offered to take me to the early start for day three, even though she would be waiting around for an hour to start her race, so that Scott, Teresa, and Desaray wouldn't have to get up so early, since their race started at 7:00. We were moving noticeably slower on day three. We all had the appearance of ragged zombies, a dead, cold look in our eyes. I made my way up the hilly first portion of the course. Jamie managed to catch up to me quite early on in this one. And when we saw each other, we both vowed that we would not be running the secret day four race. The only thing that was getting me through this last race was knowing that I wouldn't have to get up and do it again.

I was running 16-17 minute miles. Around mile 10, there were some kids out in a field and they were trying to get the runners to talk to them. Since I was moving so slowly, I had time to answer their questions.

Kids: "You look tired, why are you tired?"
Me: "I am tired. This is my third marathon in three days."
Kids: "You're running a marathon every day? Why?!"
Me: "Because it sounded like fun when I signed up. But guess what. It ISN'T fun."

A lovely sight before the busy road. 

And then I kept slogging on. And on. And on. We ended up on the main road through town and I didn't like that one bit. Not having much of a shoulder to run on while large, boat towing vehicles come hurtling down the road towards you is not ideal. Eventually we were directed off the road and onto a isolated dirt road. That was much better. And I was feeling like I could make it, it wouldn't be pretty but I could make it. As I was shuffling along the road, I came to a steep hill just before an aid station, so I started walking.  While I was walking up the hill to the aid station, another runner passed by me and asked if I was walking the whole thing. Now that really pissed me off. That road was straight. He could see me for a long time before he caught up with me to pass me. And I had been running. I HAD BEEN RUNNING, YOU JERK. Why would you ask me that?! Why not just say "hello", or "looking good", or "keep it up"? I didn't mention anything about him puking his guts out after the finish of day one because I'm not a jerk. Rule number one of running; Don't be a jerk.

I had been trying to get my runner brain to calculate what time I would be finishing. Math is difficult when you're sleep deprived and exhausted. But I finally figured that at the rate I was going, I would finish in about eight and a half hours. WHAT. Oh well. There's not much I could do about it but keep moving. I tried to enjoy the scenery, since it was very pretty. The day was not overly hot, we had some nice cloud cover. I got to pet someone's corgi. That was nice.

Scott had finished his race and had decided to drive out to find me. I was not in a good place mentally or physically when he did.  I had been through 22 rough miles at that point. But he had something magical in the car. He had a small carton of chocolate milk. I didn't know that chocolate milk was ambrosia of the gods until that moment. I drank it down and got ready to keep on slogging. Scott said he would go back and get me a Coke as well. He left and I made my way up a massive hill. Once I got to the top, things started feeling a million times better.

That chocolate milk had done the trick. I felt like I could run. So I did. I started a slow jog, and was able to finish that mile in 16 minutes. Then the next mile fell under my feet in 14 minutes. I passed another runner. I flew down the hill and right past the aid station, not daring to stop, lest it should throw off my groove. I was nearly to mile 25 when Scott was back with the Coke. He was amazed that I was so close to the end. I was making up time like crazy. I stopped to drink some Coke, then just kept going.

They cruelly threw in a gigantic hill just past mile 25 that had to be climbed and then run back down before we could head to the finish. I powered up that hill and was down in no time. My time for that mile was 13:34, the fastest I had run the entire day. And that was with the hill, and stopping to drink.

Killing the hill. Photo credit: Scott M. Stringham

I could see the finish, I felt amazing. I was able to sprint my way under that arch with a time of 7 hours and 56 minutes. I had managed to knock 34 minutes off of the finish time that I had projected back at mile 17. I couldn't believe it. I rode that high the whole way back to the hotel and for a while after. Although, when I came down, I came down hard. I then spent the rest of the night eating everything I could find.

We had all successfully finished what we set out to do. Jamie, Teresa, and Desaray were all there at the finish to celebrate that we had all lived through it. Scott had a rough time with his half marathon, but still managed to come in 38th overall, out of nearly 200 runners. I was proud of him for pushing though when all he wanted to do was quit. He's got the makings of an ultra runner.

Hanging out with all our bling after a rough weekend. Photo courtesy of Jamie Eckles. 

I don't know how I got through this challenge, I honestly wasn't ready for it at all. I didn't do a single back to back long run like I had scheduled. My laziness totally won during my training cycle. So basically, the take away from this is, if you're stubborn enough and are willing to deal with massive amounts of pain, you can do anything. I don't think that's a very good moral at all. But it is what it is. I know one thing though, I will not attempt anything like this again on such half-assed training. I learned my lesson.

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Lesson learned and buckle earned. 

My next report will go over the madness that is Ragnar, and a few other half marathons. Until then, happy running!

The May race report!

I'm so proactive on this race report that I'm doing it before the end of the month. So basically, I am winning at life. I do have one more race for this month, but it's just a free little local 10K for Memorial Day. I don't know that anything crazy will happen during it, but I'll be sure to report on it if I find a dead body or something else runners are known to do.

I took a break for the first weekend of May so that I could support Scott in running a half marathon at his pace instead of mine. As his significant coacher, I was very curious to know what he could really do. It turns out, he can run a half marathon roughly an hour faster than I can. It was most impressive.

Coming in at a speedy 1:43 and change.

The next weekend, we headed down to Vernal for my favorite half marathon, the Dino Half. I've run this race every year since it began. I have a three minute window of time that I finish this race in every year, too. I was happy to keep that trend going this year.

The weather was perfect, which was a nice change from all of the stormy races I'd been having. The hotel catered to their running guests by serving breakfast earlier than usual. It was nice to have an actual breakfasty breakfast before a race for once. Most of the time I'm eating a package of Poptarts or a peanut butter sandwich in the car on the way to the start.

I got these for the mornings when I can't choose between one or the other. 

The race started and we were off. Scott made a habit of jumping over the cones along the race course. There were an awful lot of cones along this course, so by the end he was starting to regret his life choices. I was just trying to keep moving forward, neglecting the up and down jumping motion. We finished up the race and got a little fuel to head back out on the race course. We had told our friend, Cevan, that we'd come back up to keep him company while he swept the course.

Photo credit: Cevan Skinner.

We ended up with an extra 3.5 miles for the day. In my mind, that little extra is TOTALLY going to help me survive Bear Lake.

Half marathon rock stars. 

The medals for this race are always incredible.

Swag from the race. As always, great stuff!

I was feeling pretty ready to run the Ogden Marathon the next weekend. And then I got sick. Throat burning, fever and sniffles, sick. I left work early on Wednesday to try and get over the worst of it. And by Friday, I was thinking that I was feeling well enough to tackle the race without much difficulty. I am so funny sometimes.

So I meet Jamie at the bus loading area and we head up to the start. Last year, it poured rain the entire race. I figured there was no way that it could do that two years in a row, but I made myself a trash bag poncho just in case. And it's a goof thing, too, because when we got off of the bus, the rain was already coming down.

Trying to be marathon mermaids in our space blankets and trash bags. Photo credit Jamie Eckles. 

We sat around getting rained on for over an hour and a half waiting for the race to start. I was doing my best to try and stay positive about running in the rain. After all, I had my trusty trash bag. Sure, I was starting to feel sniffley again, and my throat was starting to feel raw again. But I had my trash bag! My head was soaked. But I had my trash bag!

The race started and right away, I could tell that things felt weird. My body was really struggling, my breathing wouldn't settle. But I had my trash bag, so I just kept going. I actually HAD to keep going so that I didn't freeze to death. The trash bag was keeping the rain off of most of me, but my jacket collar was wicking water down onto the rest of me. So I was plenty wet. At least it helped keep the wind from cutting through too badly.

I couldn't see my watch because it was buried under my jacket sleeve. So I just tried to run by feel, and my feel wasn't good. I was only walking through the aid stations because if I tried walking at any other point, I would start to shiver. I hit the half mark at about 3:02, which seemed too slow for how nice the course is. It's a lot of downhill so I knew that something was not quite right. There were people dropping out at various aid stations due to the weather. But I am a stubborn gal, so I just kept slogging along.

I thought I was doing much better than I was. I didn't feel that I had slowed as much as I had. I was just pushing the best that I could, to keep warm. The weather finally did break and I was able to feel some sunshine warming my black plastic trash bag. I kept it on for a few miles, not trusting that the sun would stick around. But after I started steaming in my trash bag, I decided to let it go.

I was happy to feel some warmth finally, but I was really feeling drained. Since I didn't have to keep running to keep from freezing, I ended up walking much of those last 4 miles. My breathing felt rough and my heart rate was not where I wanted it. By the time I came into the finish, a new storm cell was rolling in and I got pelted by a little more rain before making it to the end.

Not feeling fine, at all. At least it looks like I'm moving alright. 

Scott, his son, and my mom were all waiting at the finish so that we could go have our celebratory meal at Rovali's Italian restaurant. As we sat down and began to eat, I could barely get anything down. My body wasn't having it. It let me sip on my hot chocolate and eat my minestone soup, but I had to do it slow. I haven't had eating issues after a race since my first few marathons. I tried to eat my lasagna but I could only get a few bites in.

The rain ate my race bib.

By the time we made it home from the race, it was clear to me that I was still sick. Really sick. I had developed a wicked cough that is still with me as I write this. But I had another marathon to run, and so I did!

The Jordan River marathon was yesterday. I had been out late the night before, watching Scott's band play a rockin' show.

If we're not running, we're rocking.

I managed to get three and a half hours of sleep before the race. No big deal, right? I had gotten decent sleep the whole week before, so I should have been fine. But, surprise surprise, I wasn't! I am playing a game right now that I call "sick or allergies?".  Basically, it's me trying to figure out if I am still sick or if my allergies are so bad that I feel like I'm dying.

The race had 86 people in in. That means that when it started, everyone else took off at break-neck speed and left me plodding along behind. No big deal, it's not the first time and it won't be the last. I tried to keep a positive attitude, but I felt horrible, physically, so it wasn't easy. I spent most of this race all by myself. One lone girl, race bib pinned on, zombie shuffling her way down the trail. I hoped that there were still racers up ahead of me, so that the regular trail users would know I was actually in a race and not just playing dress up.

Scott had driven to the finish and was going to get his miles in for the day by running up the trail to meet me and then running with me until the end. He ended up with 2 more miles than he needed because of how far behind I was. I was 16 minutes behind where I should have been when he caught up to me, and it got worse from there. I was only able to shuffle out 15-16 minute miles. Everything in my body was rebelling. My stomach was resisting my attempts to eat my gels. My lungs were resisting attempts to breathe. It ended up taking me 6:32:39 to finish. By some miracle, I beat two people. Don't ask me how it happened, because I honestly don't know.

Smiling because I am done and don't have to run anymore. Photo credit Scott M. Stringham.

We went out for our post race meal, and I had the same stomach issues that I had after Ogden. I kept feeling nauseous. I would eat a couple of bites and have to stop so that it didn't come back up. I was completely and utterly exhausted and even my beloved queso and chips couldn't save me. If I could have gotten more of it in me, maybe it could have.

Two shirts from this race, the bottom one is amazing. The running party is the best party. 

So after weeks of feeling like I'm going to die while running, I should really find out which ailment it is I am suffering from. Allergies? Possibly. Sick? Possibly. My cough isn't going away, so it may be time for a trip to the doctor. But we all know that runners are no good at going to the doctor when something is wrong.

If I don't go, I don't have to ignore them when they say "no running allowed".

So that brings y'all up to speed on my month of "racing". It's a loose term at this point. June is going to be nuts, so hold on for that train wreck. Until next time, happy running!

The April race report

So now that May is 2/3rds over, I am finally getting around to writing about the races I ran in April. I'm really trying to get caught up, I am. Writing has never been an easy thing for me to do, so getting myself to sit down and get it done is always a struggle.

But here we go! The first race that I ran in April was the Behind the Rocks 30K. I enjoy any chance to head to Moab, and running a race there is always a pleasure. Behind the Rocks was no exception. I had never been to the area where the Behind the Rocks trail is. The area isn't well advertised and that's not at all a bad thing. I just wish that the dudes on 4-wheelers didn't know where it was...

The race started out on a hard packed dirt road, but turned to slick rock, single track, with more dirt roads interspersed. The weather was ideal, the scenery was lovely, the runners were friendly. The trail was mostly well marked, although I did miss a turn a time or two on the slick rock, but was able to correct my course before I got too far off.

I had been sick for most of the week before the race, but that never stops me from showing up to run when it's race day. I felt alright for the first couple of miles. The new scenery helped to keep my mind off of the tiredness I was feeling. But by mile 7, I was feeling pretty awful. I was just really drained, so I mostly just walked. I didn't start feeling better until mile 18, Since the race was only just over 19 miles, I got to enjoy that last little bit, at least.

The famous stopping my watch shot.

I really enjoyed the race itself. The organization was good, the swag was nice, the course was a good kind of challenging. It would have been nice to feel better during it, but that's nobody's fault but mine.

My first ever finisher cowbell.

The next race that I ran was the Salt Lake Marathon. I had run the half marathon at this event the past two years, but Jamie had talked me into doing the full this year. I wasn't really looking forward to it, since road marathons always stress me out. (So why do I keep doing them?!) The first few miles went by pretty well, then I tanked pretty hard around mile 6, which is a weird time to bonk in a marathon. I was worried that I wouldn't make it through the whole thing. I had started to consider dropping to the half instead of turning off at the split for the full. But around mile 10, things started to feel better so I decided to give it a shot. I'm glad that I did, because I felt better and better as the race went on.

I ended up finishing with my third fastest marathon time, ever. My splits were incredibly even for once. The second half of my race was very nearly as fast as the first. That never happens to me.

Photos courtesy of Scott M. Stringham. I have no idea why I'm pulling a face that looks like Beaker from the Muppets.

Marathon #15.

I was registered for the West Mountain Marathon the very next week. I realized when I arrived at the start line that this would be my first time running marathons on back to back weekends. I was feeling pretty prepared though, since Salt Lake went so well. The weather was not looking good on race morning, so much so that the race director changed the course to an out and back instead of a loop so that he could keep track of the racers better.

I had prepared for the weather by making myself a rain shell out of a trash bag. I'd seen runners do this before and it seemed to work for them.

Some shots from the course. 

The sky looked like it was going to let loose any second, but the race started and we were off. As we ticked off the first couple of miles, some blue sky started appearing in the west. I'm a Utah native, so  I know not to trust the weather, ever. So I kept my trusty trash bag rain coat on until mile 11. I only took it off then because the sun was roasting me alive in that black plastic. But I was wearing my elastic race number belt, so I tucked it into the back of the belt and ran with it for another few miles, just to be safe.

The weather decided to be pretty nice, for those first 13.1 miles before the turn around. At the turn around, we got hit full in the face with wind gusts that hit 30 miles per hour.

It looks so peaceful. But the wind was about to give us hell.

The wind kept up for the entire second half of the race. I had been feeling alright for the whole race, and I did manage to pass a couple of people in the last bit. But the wind had really taken its toll by the last couple of miles. Scott had run up the course to meet me, and get some of his miles in for the day. I'm sure he enjoyed the choice words I had to say every time a gust hit us. I still managed to finish the race only 5 minutes slower that I did at Salt Lake the week before.

Close to the finish now, photo courtesy of Scott M. Stringham.

It was a pretty little race, and I didn't mind the course change because things always look different on the way back.

Marathon #16.

The next weekend, I was supposed to run the Salt Flats 50k. I had signed up for it quite a while ago and had forgotten the very important fact that the race was on a Friday and not a Saturday... Oops. So I had booked my hotel for the wrong night, asked for the wrong time off of work, and all that.

Scott and I had already made plans to have dinner with his friends, who live out in Wendover, so we decided we were still going to take the trip anyway. I emailed the race director about my mistake and asked if he needed any volunteers for Saturday, since the 100 miler would still be going on. The race director was really nice and offered to roll my registration over to next year.

We made the trek out to Wendover, had a lovely time with Scott's friends, got a nice 10 miler in the next morning before heading out to take over the last aid station for the 100 miler.

Hiding out in the car while wind gusts and rain battered the aid station. Photo by  Scott M. Stringham.

Once we got to Wendover, I didn't feel so bad about not getting to run it. The rain had gone non-stop basically all week leading up to race day and the Salt Flats had been turned into a lake. A lot of people had to drop from the race due to the elements. I was happy to help the runners that were left finish up their race.  It was really neat to see them come though at mile 95 and see their determination to finish those last 5 miles, even with all they'd been through.

I'll do a May race report after my race next weekend (hopefully). I need to have everything caught up so that the Bear Lake triple will get its own blow by blow, because it's not going to be pretty.

Until next time, happy running!

I forget that I have a blog...

I have been so busy the last little bit, that I completely forgot that I have a blog that I should be writing in. I'm working too much, and not running or writing enough. I also got engaged three weeks ago, (WHAT. That's so crazy, I know.) so there has been a lot of wedding stuff thrown in to the mix.

I've got 5 new races to report on, but I'll just tackle two in this post and the others next week (hopefully). I ran the Zion Half Marathon again this year. I tried something novel this time. I tried running the whole thing without walking. Okay, I did stop and walk for a moment to take my jacket off and one moment to refill my water bottle at mile 5. But other than those two tiny moments, I ran the whole thing!  And guess what. My time was SLOWER than last year's where I let myself take walk breaks. Lesson learned.

Photo courtesy of Jamie Eckles. 

The week after Zion, I ran the Monument Valley 50K. I was nervous at first about this race. The race Director is Matt Gun, and he doesn't do easy races. I wasn't sure that I was recovered enough from Jackpot and that my training might have been less than ideal for this race. But once we got down to Monument Valley, I knew I wouldn't be dropping to the half. I needed to run the 50K, just to see all of the incredible scenery up close and personal.

Mitten Butte, right outside my cabin door.

Packet pick up was held in a hogan, the pre-race briefing included a Navajo sunset prayer ceremony and some traditional songs.

White corn flour being used for the ceremony. Photo courtesy of Scott M. Stringham.

We wrapped up the evening by eating Navajo tacos and watching the stars come out over the gorgeous desert landscape.

Race morning dawned and we headed to the start line for the sunrise prayer ceremony and the start of the 50K. Scott was running in the half marathon that started an hour later, but he came with me to the start of my race to see me off. After getting me on my way, he was able to wait for his race start in a hogan to stay warm.

Sunrise with the Mitten Buttes, just before the start.

The first couple of miles of the race are on a hard packed dirt road that leads past the main formations of the park. As the sun kept coming up, the red rocks began to glow in the morning light.

A view of the Three Sisters formation.

The firs few miles went along pleasantly. The surroundings were breathtaking and it made it so easy to forget that I was running. After the first aid station stop, we headed out on a single track trail called the red loop. Every turn of a corner on this loop brought another amazing sight,

The single track was not too technical, and it made for some very enjoyable running. Towards the end of the loop, the sand started, But it wasn't too bad just yet. Another stop into the aid station and I was out on the white loop. The white loop was my favorite loop, except for the sheer amount of sand that we had to run through, This loop had all of the arches and windows of the race.

By mile 15, we'd been running through deep sand for hours. I had to stop and dump the sand out of my shoes. So much had gotten in that it felt like I had sand orthotics in my shoes. I thought dumping out the sand would have made more of a difference but by mile 18, there was just as much sand in them. I didn't feel like stopping and dumping them out again so I finished the race with piles of sand in my shoes.

I should have put more water in my pack at the second aid stop, because I ran out of water around mile 17 and had to go another 30 minutes without anything to drink. By the time I made it back to the aid station, it felt like my tongue was how it is in the cartoons where the character sticks out their tongue and there's a cow skull and cactus on it.

I spent quite a bit of time at the aid station, getting rehydrated and fueling up. I think I overdid it a bit because my stomach was a little unhappy for a couple of miles as I headed out on the last loop, the blue loop. The blue loop started with a hard packed dirt road that turned off into a sandy single track trail. MORE SAND. I was starting to develop Post Traumatic Sand Disorder.

Oh sure, it looks innocent. But try running 20 or so miles in it and then decide.

This is the only part of the race where I hit a slump. I was feeling gross because of overdoing at the aid station, the sand was slowing me down, and I knew that the giant 1500 foot climb up the mesa was still to come. So from about mile 20 to 22, I was pretty grumpy. But then, the sand ended and we got to go back to packed dirt road until the climb started. I started feeling better and got some good running in on the road.

The climb up the mesa was a very narrow trail, strewn with big rocks that liked to move around when you stepped on them. There were runners coming up and going down, so it made for a lot of stopping and stepping off to the side to let people pass.

A view from the climb up.

This is the only part of the race that I had specifically trained for. I knew that this climb was going to come after I was already starting to feel fatigued, so I had been doing an hour on the stair climber at the gym after my session with my trainer. I taught my body to climb even when it was tired, and it paid off. I kept a steady hike going up the mesa and ended up passing quite a few people.

When I got to the top, the views were breathtaking. It was totally worth it. Also at the top, the trail was incredibly runnable. Nice soft single track, not sand.

There's the finish line! Somewhere in that speck of civilization.

I hit the turn around, punched my bib with the hole punch to prove that I'd made it, and turned around to head back down. I was feeling great at this point, since the hardest part was over and it would be less than 10 miles to the end. I cruised along the top of the mesa to start my descent. There were still a good number of runners coming up the mesa, some 50K runners, some 50 milers.

Coming back down was actually just as difficult as going up, due to the steepness and all of the giant rocks. You couldn't just bomb down the trail because too many of the rocks would slide out from under you. Plus with the other runners coming up, it was just too dangerous to go crazy on the way down. I made it down without too many scary slips of the feet and made some good time back on the dirt road. The only problem with the white loop is that is wasn't really a loop, it was an out and back, so I had to go through that damn sandy single track again. I had hit the end of my sand tolerance and just trudged through it until I hit the road back to the aid station.

I just grabbed a cup of Coke with ice on my way through and asked how far it was to the finish. I couldn't remember if the race was a long 50K or closer to the standard distance. I was ecstatic to hear that there were only 3 more miles to go until the finish. I knew I was going to come in well under the cut off time, and it was all dirt road back to the finish line.

I took off down the road at a decent pace and was able to hold it pretty steady until some of the steeper bits. I hiked up the steep parts, ran the downs and flats, and was in pretty good spirits for that last chunk of the race. Scott and my mom were waiting at the finish line. He had a great race in the half, finishing in the top 10%.

Scott finishing his race, looking strong!

Excited to have finished a tough race!

I finished! It was tough and beautiful and can we come back next year?!

I relaxed at the finish line for awhile with my Scott and my mom. We chatted with some other finishers and took some great photos. If this race isn't on your list, I think you should add it. It's a challenge, but the cut off times are generous. It took me 10 hour and 14 minutes to complete this race, but that was 46 minutes ahead of the cut off. The Ultra Adventures crew puts on an amazing event. They take great care of you at the aid stations (bacon quesadillas, anyone?). The location couldn't be beat. And we wrapped up our trip by participating in a sweat lodge ceremony.

Hanging out by the hogans.

I love the ceramic mug!

I can honestly say that this race is my favorite that I have ever done. I hope that I am able to go back again next year. Scott says that he would love to run the 50K next year so that he can see more of the park. The half marathon runs the red loop and the Wildcat Trail but misses the climb and all the arches, But in those 14 miles, he had his favorite running experience to date as well.

I promise to try and write about the other 3 races very shortly and get back on track with regular reports. But until then, happy running!