Capitol Reef 50K: Adventures in DNF

It started out innocently enough. It was a gorgeous day down in Capitol Reef. We arrived to a scene of lovely red rock cliffs and puffy clouds.

The back drop for the finish line. Not too shabby.

I got my sweet race swag and settled in for the pre-race briefing. As the briefing went on, I became more and more concerned about getting lost. It turns out that was a valid concern.

Sweet swag! I have no problem wearing it, even if I DNFd.

After the race briefing, we went out for dinner. We ordered quite a bit of pizza, because we wanted to have leftovers for the rest of the weekend. There was some other runners there having dinner and when the second large pizza was brought out, we heard one of them say "Wow. Trail runners sure love their pizza,". Yes. Yes we do.

I slept fairly well, having only one pre-race dream about what was to come. I arrived at the Red River Ranch to await the shuttle and lo and behold, I met someone who reads this very blog! Hi Adriana! It was pretty neat to meet someone that reads my ramblings! (Besides my mom, best friends Krista and Geof, and kick-ass running buddy Jamie, that is. You guys are great!) We swapped stories and shared our anxieties about what we were about to do. All of the runners waiting with the shuttle were friendly and easy to talk to. I find this is more common with trail races than road races... I'm still trying to figure out why that is.

The shuttle was late but when it arrived, it was a pretty neat old school bus. It slowly climbed up the mountain, gears grinding as we lurched towards our fate. I talked the ride away with the gentleman next to me and before we knew it, we were at the start line. We only had a few minutes to compose ourselves before the starting shout was issued (it really was a shout, from the race director's cute little girl).

We were off like a shot! Well, we were off like we were about to climb to 11,000 feet. I knew the first 5 miles were going to be incredibly difficult. And I was right.

There we go, winding our way up the Aquarius Plateau.

Getting steeper.

At least this part still looked kind of like a trail. That would change.

We climbed and climbed. And then we climbed some more. It was utterly relentless. I just did my best to keep moving forward. It really was gorgeous, which is why this blog is going to be jam packed with pictures.

This is where I am! Thank you, signs. 

This may have been my favorite view from the course. 

It was a bit rocky where we were...

I finally made it to the top of the biggest chunk of the climbing we would do and I had to just stop and stare for a moment. The view was stunning. The air was thin. It was the perfect excuse to stand still for a bit and take it all in.

The pictures don't do it justice.

I lived through the hardest part! Which is why I have no problem wearing that shirt and hat.

The sweeping expanse of the American West. 

After gathering myself and a snapping more than a few pictures, I continued along the plateau, enjoying the little bit of runnable trail I would encounter that day.

This part was heavenly. Soft dirt and pine needles. Glorious.

It was pretty great...

It didn't stay runnable for long though. I finally made it to the first aid station and was greeted by Kelly Agnew, local ultra runner extraordinaire (I read his blog, he does crazy stuff. Like win the Jackpot 24 hour race with 140 miles). He got me some Coke and provided some words of encouragement as I headed back out onto the course.

The first of many lakes I would see. 

Another excuse to stop and catch my breath.

Dun dun dun! I'm just happy I didn't end up this way.

After the aid station the trail turned into a meadow.  A meadow with no visible trail. Also, lots of mounds and holes to watch out for, hidden by the tall grass. I tried to keep up a quick hiking pace because running just wasn't working. Plus, the markers were tricky to see in the grass. The cairns they had put up were a bit better. Then all of the sudden, the meadow left and I found myself scrambling down rocks and trying not to lose my balance and topple into the stream below.

There's a trail here somewhere...

Whatever you do, don't trip and fall!

So pretty though.

This is the part of the race where the trail started going through this pretty little stream. The flags marking the course were planted in little piles of rocks in the middle of the water. Fun! And it really was fun. I was starting to get nervous about making the cutoff at mile 19 though. I was moving along the best that I could, given the conditions. Then the intense downhill reared its head. The trail got so steep and scary. Every step I took had me slipping down the mountain, slightly out of control.

I finally arrived at the second aid station and filled up my hydration pack. It's a good thing I did, because I would get lost shortly thereafter. Anyway, the aid station was manned by a great older gentleman who was whipping up flapjacks and quesadillas. Delicious! I ate some fruit and had some ginger-ale too. As I was leaving the aid station, two guys were coming in. One of them asked if there was a nurse at the aid station while his friend was carrying a deer antler rack with part of the skull attached. Being the comedic genius that I am, I told them that it was probably too late for a nurse to save that deer. I AM SO FUNNY. And they just kind of glared at me. Fine, dudes. Sure, you're running the 50 miler and you're at mile 31 and your sense of humor is lying dead on the trail somewhere, fine.

I made my way out of the aid station and around the shore of another lovely lake. Then the climbing started again, It was starting to really wear on me. I was only a little over 12 miles in at this point and I was feeling pretty beat up. I had to keep stopping and resting on the way up. I finally made it past the brutal section of trail and got to start going down again. This time, the down hill was pretty runnable. And thus began my downfall.

While the grade was very conducive to making up time, it was still a minefield of rocks and roots. I was so busy watching my feet and running a decent pace, I stopped watching for the trail markers. I just zoned out and followed the trail that was in front of me. I have no idea how far I had gone before I finally noticed that I hadn't seen a marker in awhile.

Now, at the race briefing, they stressed the fact that if you didn't make a cutoff, the aid stations wouldn't be there when you got there. I was flirting with the cutoff time as it was, and since I had no idea how many miles I had gone off course, trying to back track seemed like a very bad idea. The trail I was on was fairly wide and looked to be well used. My gut told me to stay on that trail instead of trying to fight my way back on course. Sometimes, you just need to listen to your instincts.

I kept heading down the trail and eventually it widened out to a road, I even found a trail head with a "you are here" map. That damn map didn't help me at all. This is the point where I started crying. But I knew that I had to keep moving. Roads are where people are, plus, it was leading me down the mountain, towards town. I kept my pace the best that I could and when I had hit 19.23 miles, a savior in a red truck appeared. It was Turd'l, one of the race staff, He had the funniest look on his face when he rolled down the window.

"What are you doing out here?!" 

"I GOT LOST!"

"I can see that. Get in the truck."

"THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU."

It turns out that he was headed up to pick up the 50 milers who didn't make the cutoff time for the Fish Creek aid station. By the time we were headed back down the mountain, the truck was full of weary runners. The DNF rate for all the race distances was very high. We all agreed that this course was the most brutal any of us had encountered. Slow clap to you, Ultra Adventures. A few of the people were pretty darn upset that they weren't allowed to finish the race. Me? I was just so happy to not be lost anymore. It took most of the sting out of getting my first DNF(did not finish, for those who don't know).

When I got back to the finish line, my mom was waiting for me. I ate my finish line pizza and shared my harrowing experience with her. One of the other runners, a successful finisher, brought his chair over to chat with me about the race. Seriously, trail runners are the nicest people. Nothing but smiles and kind words were there for me through the day (excluding the humorless deer head people). My mom thought that I knew the guy who came over to talk to me, since we were able to just fall easily into a conversation. I've said it before, I'll say it again. Runners are some of the nicest people on this earth. I was wearing my hat from the race the next day as we were going around town and through the park and other people who had run made sure to come over and talk to me about it.

I handled the non-finish pretty well, until Sunday night. When I tried to get some sleep, I just tossed and turned. My mind was starting to rebel. And when I did manage to nod off, I would have awful dreams about it. I was in a pretty bad mood about the whole thing all through Monday. Things are feeling better now, and I am bound and determined to get that finish next year.

August is going to be a busy racing month, and that always help to lift my spirits. So stay tuned for many more race reports, and of course, pictures. Until then, happy running!

I ran 50 miles and didn't die.

I have survived that which I was not sure I would survive. My first 50 mile run was a success. Because I did not die. The amount of fear and anxiety I had leading up to the race was not an insignificant amount.

I had to keep reminding myself that I needed to acknowledge the fear, let myself really feel it. (Much like this cat with the vacuum.) Repressing the fear won't make it go away, so I had to take time to understand where it was coming from. I was able to come to terms with what I was about to do in time to begin to be excited about the challenge that lay before me.

We arrived in Montana without incident, checked into the hotel, then made our way to packet pick up. I handed over my two drop bags so that they would be waiting for me at miles 20 and 34. My brother was registered for the 12K, so we both got sweet swag bags. The Trail Rail Run people know how to put together a nice goody bag. There was huckleberry fudge, beef jerky, aluminum water bottles, discount coupons to local restaurants and gift shops, and the all important FREE huckleberry shake voucher.

On my way back into the hotel after dinner, I noticed an Idiots Running Club shirt hanging in a window of one of the rooms. I knew there would be 4 other Idiots running the race, so I was happy to have found one of them. I knocked on the door and met Coral, her husband, and their sweet dog. I would see quite a bit of the dog and husband through the race.

I made it though my morning without any trouble or panic attacks and headed across the street to get on the bus. All of the other runners were friendly and chatty while we waited to take off. Once the bus got going though, it was pretty loud and difficult to talk over. So most of us settled in for the ride and watched the pine trees whip by the windows.

The bus made a few wrong turns once we got off the freeway and I was starting to wonder if the race was meant to be. But we found the start line and gathered around the fire that was happily crackling along. I met another Idiot, Kathy, then we tried to joke about what we were about to do. (It was the first 50 miler for Kathy, Coral, and I. So there was quite a bit of trepidation there.) Before I knew it, the pre-race briefing was over and we were lining up.

THAT'S A LOT OF MILES.

The gun went off and our small band of crazies headed out onto the trail. It's a gradual uphill grind for the first 8 miles. Since I've been focusing on my climbing, and I always use the incline on the treadmill, I hadn't been too worried about that part. Too bad that part almost made me quit the race. Right from the beginning, I just didn't feel very good.

I just felt really tired. I couldn't seem to find my rhythm, my breathing was off. The incline felt steeper than I thought it would. I watched as all my competitors passed on by me, leaving me in the dust.

Look at those tiny specks. Those are people. Running much faster than I am.

I was the last runner before I'd gone two miles. Oh great. But really, I had figured that this would happen. I was feeling so awful at that point I didn't much mind though. It took me 2 hours to reach the top of that 8 mile climb. At multiple points in those two hours, I seriously considered dropping from the race. I knew that if I didn't get feeling better, there was no way I could make it through the full 50 miles. But I couldn't drop out of the race before I got to the aid station. So I had to keep going, at least until that point. Not wanting to have to pay for the search and rescue team they would have sent for me was the only thing that kept me going to that point.

I feel terrible. I should stop and take a picture. That'll help.

I finally made it to the aid station, they checked me in, and I headed to the port-a-potty. I often find myself in port-a-potties when I'm trying to pull myself together. It's like I need that closed off space and privacy to think about what I am going to do next. I had made it though the worst part of the race, I told myself. Get something to eat. See how you feel. I shambled over to the aid station and decided on a single serving sized bag of potato chips, a fun sized Snickers bar, and a cup of Coca-Cola. Once I had taken in the calories, I felt 100% better. I think I was already off on my salt ratio because the potato chips were like manna from heaven.

After the aid station, the course turned into a great stretch of downhill. Where I had been logging 15 minute miles on the way up, I was logging 12 minute and under miles for the next 4 miles. I was feeling like a whole new person and I started to think that I could actually make it through this crazy ordeal.

Tunnel! I had to use the flashlight on my phone to get through it. It was neat!

My "Ooh! A tunnel!"face. 

I was really beginning to enjoy the race, but by the time I reached 13 miles, I was pondering where that next darned aid station was. I was starting to think that somehow I had taken a wrong turn or something (which is really tough to do on this course). It turns out the aid station was just farther down that I had been told and I hit it at 14.5 miles. I enjoyed another Snickers bar and some watermelon. On my way out, I grabbed another handful of potato chips and ate as I walked. I am not one of those people who can run and eat at the same time. My stomach takes exception to that.

I was pleased to see that I was moving along well ahead of the cut off time for the 20 mile check in. I just had to be there by noon and I had about 30 minutes of cushion. I just kept motoring along and was still feeling so much better than I had earlier that day. The first two hand cyclists passed me between 16 and 17 miles in. That's tough stuff, right there. I was wholly impressed with the 5 of them that were there.

The Dominion Trestle! My favorite part of the course. 

It's a heck of a climb to get up to this point though. That's what power hiking is for, right?

I was so happy to have made it to the aid station before the cutoff, and extra happy because my first drop bag was there waiting for me with a 20 oz. bottle of Coke, some Slim Jims, and sunscreen. I ate up a bunch of orange slices, grabbed the Coke, transferred it to the bottle on my hydration pack, snapped into a Slim Jim, and headed back out from the aid station, after going through the second tunnel, of course.

It was at this point that I caught up to Coral. She was having some stomach issues that were slowing her down. I tried to lift her spirits as I passed, and it wouldn't be the last that we saw of each other that day. The miles to the next aid station passed by easily enough and as I checked in at mile 26, Coral's husband and dog were there. It was nice to see some friendly faces and chat for a bit. The man at the aid station was also very nice and helpful. He asked if my feet were doing alright, and at that point, they were. I told him I was on track for around a 13 hour finish and I was feeling great! It didn't take long for that all to change.

Around mile 30, I could feel a blister rising up on my right heel. No big deal, right? I have a drop bag with fresh socks and shoes at mile 34. The day was starting to take its toll on me though. We had gotten out of the shade since the sun was now straight up in the sky. And it got hot. So very hot. I slowed down so much in those 4 miles, the blister was really starting to scream at me, and I struggled through mile 33 so much more than I thought I would.

When I finally made it to the aid station, I found a chair and started to work on getting my feet to be happier. The blister was only about the size of a dime, but it was tight and angry. I took a pin from my bib to pop it (I hardly ever blister, so I didn't have a proper blister kit with me) but it wouldn't go down. So I coated it in Trail Toes, put on clean socks and a change of shoes, and hoped for the best. I spent far too long at this aid station. I was just trying to psych myself up to keep going for another 16 miles. I was still ahead of the cutoff, so that was good. I drank the rest of the pickle juice that I had packed with me, it works wonders on cramps, FYI, got more Coke in my bottle, ate some potatoes, and headed back out after my 15 minute intermission. This is where Coral caught me again. We stayed together for about a mile after the aid station. I had started feeling better again after getting my shoes changed so I ended up going at a slightly faster pace that Coral. So we said our goodbyes and good lucks.

At this point, I was implementing a run/walk ratio of .15 miles of walking with .10 miles of running. It really worked out well. I was able to keep that going reliably though about mile 47. When I rolled into the second to last aid station (7.5 miles to go), I knew that I was going to be cutting it close to the 14 hour time limit. I was on track to come in under, but just barely. And with 7.5 miles to go, anything could happen. So I asked the aid station volunteers if I would still get my finisher spike and jacket if I crossed the line just a few minutes late. They radioed the finish line and found out that would be fine. I didn't want to come in after the time limit if I could help it, but I was getting so freaked out about it that I needed some reassurance that a finish line would be there when I got there.

By now, I was tired, but at the same time, I was starting to feel exhilarated because I knew I was going to make it. My feet hurt, sure, but my legs were okay. The muscles were trained well enough to take me through to the end. When I reached the last aid station, I heard them radioing in that I had just checked in. I yelled to the radio operator "You tell them that I'm going to make it!". I ate more watermelon and headed out. I was within cell service range so I pulled out my phone to let my mom know that I was only 4 miles out. When I turned my phone on, it was flooded with text messages from my friends, cheering me on. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the supportive people I have in my life. I wouldn't let myself open all of them and read the messages while I still had 4 more miles to go. That would be my finish line treat.

I pushed through those last 4 miles, feeling so amazed that I was really doing it. I thought back through the day, about how I had wanted to drop out in the first 2 hours. The ups and downs of the day, floating around in my head. I was going to make it. Through it all, I had set out to do this and I hadn't given up. When I hit the junction where the trail turns to road, there was a man standing outside of his truck. I thought he was a volunteer, so I yelled to him "I'M GOING TO MAKE IT!!!" He looked a little confused, and that's when I realized he was just a random citizen, out enjoying the evening. But he was nice and our conversation was as follows: "That's great! How far?" "50 miles!!!" "Seriously?!" "Yes! And I'm going to make it!".

I saw Coral's husband again, running up the road to go meet her. And I yelled the same to him."I'M GOING TO MAKE IT!!!" This quickly became my mantra, as you can see. He cheered me on and I pushed through to the finish stretch. I started to get goosebumps when I hit the dirt path that would wind through the trees to the finish arch on the park's grass. They could see me coming and I heard them announce that I was going to beat the time limit! I gave it all I could, which felt fast, but in retrospect really wasn't.

I made it!!!

And then I cried like a baby.

2 seconds to spare, ladies and gentlemen. 2 seconds. 

I had done it. Over 50 miles in one day. I am honestly still trying to comprehend it over a week later. I was so thrilled to just sit down and take my shoes off. My mom was there to help remove my shoes, and when she did, oh boy. That little blister that I had had turned into a gigantic blister. And it had gained a twin on my other heel.

Yeouch!

I think the blisters came from all the grit that got into my shoes on the trail. Gaiters can only keep out so much... While I sat there, people brought me food and chocolate milk, congratulated me, and I was able to meet the other two Idiots who had done the 50K, Crystal and Kathy. We were all waiting to welcome Coral to the finish, because, she too, was going to make it. We saw here coming to the end so we all gathered to make a human arch for her to run through. It was a most epic finish.

We are one badass group of ladies. 

I am so proud of everyone who competed out there today. My brother took first in his age group for the 12K; all of the Idiots finished what they set out to do. As I mentioned before, processing this feat has been a bit surreal. It's not always easy to find the words to express how it feels to make through something that I wasn't sure that I could.

I learned that first hand that day.

I am feeling so much more confident now about the things that I have planned for this year and next. I can do anything I set my mind to. And so can you. So can anyone. The thing that gets in our way the most, is ourselves. And now it's time for the swag shots!

The shirt is so cozy. You need cozy after 50 miles. 

The coveted finisher's jacket and railroad spike. 

So there you have it. I didn't die. And I even enjoyed myself for the majority of those 14 hours! I'm hoping I enjoy my 100K, 24 hour, and 48 hour races for the majority as well. The next race on the schedule is the Capitol Reef 50K, on July 11. That one is going to be gorgeous. Stay tuned for the next report, hopefully stating that I didn't die, yet again. Until then, happy running!

A marathon, a triathlon, and a half marathon all walk into a bar...

Forgive me readers, for I have sinned. It has been three events since my last blogging.

On May 30, I completed my 11th marathon, the Jordan River Marathon. This race was a big deal, because it was Jamie's last race to qualify for the Marathon Maniacs (which she did, in spectacular style, with cookies and everything).

Remember how the Ogden Marathon was so cold and wet? Well, this one was just the opposite. It was so hot for this race. By the first aid station, I was already pouring water over my head and dreading mid-day's arrival.

It may have been warm, but what a sunrise!

It was a pretty run along the river. I don't really run there much so it was nice to see some new scenery. The course was an out and back course, which I really didn't mind. The race was small enough that I was actually looking forward to seeing the other, faster runners on their way back. Plus, I got to go through my favorite aid station twice! I was happy to see that the aid station had Coca-Cola and ice. It was a little slice of heaven on a long hot run.

Not the worst place to be running.

For quite a while, I was pretty sure that I was in last place but it turned out that I beat 7 other people somehow... I really wasn't concerned about my pace, since I knew I had to run more after to get my 31 miles for the day. The only thing I didn't like was at the end, when I was very overheated and ready to be done, I still had to go past the finish arch and do a lap around the parking lot before I could be done. That was rough.

Commiserating with Jamie about the heat and having to go around again before I could be done.

FINALLY coming into the finish.

At the end of the race, we got free waffles from a very tasty waffle truck and then we were handed lots of extra stuff, hats, bananas, Dr. Pepper. We walked away with a nice haul of goodies, along with the sense of badassery that comes from completing a tough run.

Sassy, classy marathon ladies. 

The next weekend was our family triathlon, the Daybreak Triathlon, out in South Jordan. My brother, Alex, was our swimmer and my other brother, Jason, was our cyclist. We opted to tackle the Olympic distance and see how it went.

We got there with plenty of time to get marked and set up in the transition area. The lake looked nice and calm, but the dark clouds were ominous.

Getting ready to get in the water. Whee!

The skies did open up while the swimmers were in the water, but thankfully the rain had stopped by the time Alex was done and Jason needed to take off on the bike.

Swim! Swim for your life!

So happy to be done with the 1500 meter swim.

We switched the ankle timer and Jason took off!

 We got through the transition pretty smoothly and then set to work getting Alex peeled out of his wet suit. He started coughing up blood, which didn't seem like a good thing, so he went over to the paramedics. It turns out that he had gotten swimming induced pulmonary edema because the wet suit constricted his chest too much. They told him what to watch for and if it got worse, he would need to go to the hospital. Thankfully, it cleared up quickly and he's fine now.

I got all prepped and ready to run when Jason got back from the bike portion. The ride was supposed to be 26 miles, but his Garmin only showed close to 20... He followed the route perfectly and didn't miss any turns, so we don't quite know how it was so far off.

And he's back, time to switch the ankle timer and run!

It had actually warmed up considerably by the time Jason had finished, So I knew I would be running conservatively. Heat is my downfall. So I just set myself on cruise control and just focused on moving steady and keeping my heart rate from spiking too high.

Starting the first lap of the run. 

Because we had signed up for the Olympic distance, I had to do two laps around the lake to get the mileage in. It was supposed to be 6.2 miles, but the course was half a mile longer than that. I was pleased to see that my pace was dead on for the distance though. It's always satisfying when I can stick to a plan.

Finishing and happy to be done with another hot run.

Swim! Bike! Run!

It was another good experience for Team T-Rex and we're looking forward to doing more in the future. Alex is also thinking of doing some longer swim-only races, while Jason just registered for his first 60 mile bike event. It's safe to say, we're enjoying our chosen sports.

And lastly, yesterday, I completed my 65th half marathon, the Utah Valley half. I had done this one last year and enjoyed it, so why not again? It was a good last longish run before my 50 mile race next weekend. The best part of the race itself was the Boy Scout aid station. Those boy scouts put out quite a spread! There was a whole dutch oven meal if you wanted it. Since I've been training my body to eat during long runs, I've been getting so hungry during races. I was more than happy to grab up some dutch oven potatoes with bacon to help fuel me through the rest of the race.

I was also excited to meet two of my Daily Mile friends in real life, Jill and Wade. It's been so fun to meet more and more running friends through racing. We all had a good time yesterday and are looking forward to hanging out at more events.

I like running. Running is my favorite. 

Their slogan is 100% correct. 

So there you have it. Now I can fully concentrate of freaking out about the 50 miles I'm supposed to live through this coming Saturday. I've scheduled my massage, planned my drop bags, and had a couple of minor meltdowns, so I guess that means I'm as ready as I'll ever be? I'm really mostly worried about finishing in the time limit. I've pretty much figured out that I can go the distance, it's just a question of how long that will take me... And that's why timed events are my new favorite thing. Anyway, look forward to a detailed report of hopefully epic proportions in the near future.

Until then, happy running!