You would think that I could write a 50K race report at this point in less than a gazillion words. Apparently not. I don’t blog all that often and when I do I have lots to say. Umm…at least I have pictures this time!

Aren’t Brits generally known for having a drier sense of humor than Americans? I think that cultural difference was in full effect during the organization of The Jewel 50K/100K. Apologies if the RD’s aren’t actually Brits, but they sound like it. They sure aren’t from Georgia!

I went into this race kind of expecting a cakewalk. On ultrarunning.com, this race was rated a 2/2 which means groomed terrain and up to 2500ft of climbing over 50 miles. The course description on the website ends with the statement that a single 100K loop contains at least 2000ft gain. Now that’s a little confusing because the course is a 15.5 mile loop so the 100K would be 4 loops. So is that 8000ft total gain or 2000ft total gain for the 100K? Going with the 2 rating from ultrarunning.com, I took that to mean 2000ft total for the 100K so 1000ft total for the 50K. Compared to my first 50K that had 10,000ft of gain, a 50K with 1000ft of gain seemed easy. Couple that with the flowery course description touting valleys, streams, pastures, hillsides, and glens and I expected a beautiful cakewalk.

Things aren’t always what they seem.

I was happy just to be running this race. The Mister rarely has a Saturday off so I try to stick to Sunday races. I’ve got shin splints too and had to drop out of Operation Endurance prior to the marathon mark. My mileage has been really spotty since running the DoubleTop 100K due to the shin splints. Oh yeah, and that 100K was just a month ago! I’m not yet a seasoned ultrarunner who can do an ultra a month like it is nothing. I didn’t have high hopes of actually finishing this race. My plan was to tape up and enjoy whatever miles I could get in before I had to quit.

Because of all those pre-existing issues, I felt very little stress at the starting line. I didn’t see too many familiar faces at this one except for Brad G. who runs *every* local ultramarathon. Oh, and Rob Apple who is Southern ultra legend having run like 500 ultramarathons (not joking about that). I also recognized two young sisters and their father from a few races. They kind stick out because they are super tall and very young (under 18). I had chatted up their father a bit at the SweetH20 Half in February because I was so curious about how they got involved in this crazy world at such a young age.

The race course was designed as a 15.5 mile loop. We would run 5.5 miles one way, return to the start AKA “The House” because it literally was the front porch of someone’s house, and then run another 10 miles with one other aid station in between. We took off from “The House” and ran off into cow pastures. I stayed in the back as usual, but I was a bit surprised that there were not a lot of people back there with me. A ton of people were running the 100K. You would think they would have held back a bit at the start. I guess they figured it would be easy race too.

I immediately had my hands full dodging round patches of cow manure in the grassy fields. Since I was a bit slower than most, I missed the larger pack of cows who must have been stunned by the sudden appearance of a herd of runners in their grazing area. I did spot one lonely tan cow who ran off into the trees in fear. Am I alone in not ever picturing cows running? Color me a clueless suburban girl! I was equally amazed the first time I saw a cow sitting down on all fours like a dog.

The pasture turned into a wooded section and the rolling hill party got started immediately. These hills were probably runnable, but not for me. I had no desire to shorten my run by exhausting my legs in Mile 2. I soon found company with T who would be my companion for hours and hours of this race. When she mentioned that her daughters were running the race, I realized that she was the mother of the two young sisters. I’ve run across father-daughter teams and mother-daughter teams but never a whole family running an ultra. Sweet!

Her family was running the 100K but she was doing her first 50K coming off only a trail half-marathon as her longest run ever. I kind of cringed at that because that’s a huge jump up from 13.1 to 31 miles. But hey, I don’t know what kind of training she did and she seemed strong and determined and gutsy enough to try the race. She was running a good pace for me so we stuck together and chatted the entire time. We also worked well together navigating the course. It was frequently marked with flags, but it was very twisty so a lapse in attention could mean confusion. I caught her navigation mistakes and she caught mine. Maybe if we both hadn’t been blabbing so much, we wouldn’t have made any mistakes, but that’s what makes ultras fun!

Some runners apparently got confused pretty quickly. Shortly after a creek crossing (low water but feet still got wet), T and I ran upon a group of three runners just ahead of us. A herd of lead runners were coming from some other direction indicated that the party of 3 were going the wrong way. Apparently a few runners missed a section of the course initially. What a section it was! I knew to expect a “memorable” hill from the course description so I readied myself for a challenge. I have no problems with hills when I know what to expect. There is nothing to do but grind these things out. I started climbing without complaint leaving the trio and T behind a bit.

The first hill flattened out and I realized that I had not yet climbed the “memorable” hill. The climb ahead was at about a 40% grade and made up entirely of dirt and loose rocks. I literally had my hands in the dirt to steady myself. I was scared to stop to catch my breath because nothing looked solid enough to hold me.

Just when I was feeling all She-Ra like for conquering the steep hill, I saw a spray painted message left by those wacky Brits that stated “2 of 3.” For real? I had to laugh…and keep climbing. The whole thing was over in less than a mile but that was one tough mile. I would put this climb right up there with the climb just after the short creek crossing and before the main Powerline climbs at SweetH20.

Photo courtesy of runner David Ray

T caught up to me shortly after the turnaround after the top of the climb. Apparently I’m a good climber, but suck at recovering after the hill. I didn’t mind. I was glad for the company again. Slightly scary downhill awaited and then we circled around back to the pasture and “The House” where the race began.

They had a nice spread waiting at the aid station and I grabbed some Pringles and pita bread spread with hummus and walked on to the next section. The first part of the race already proved to be more difficult that I anticipated. Some cakewalk! I estimated that we easily climbed 1000ft in the first 5.5 miles of the course (971 ft according to my watch…I’m getting good at this!). That meant the rest of the course had to be flat. Sure.

In spite of the difficulty of the first section, I was holding up very well physically and having a great time. I wasn’t having any shin issues but I can’t give any credit my stupid KT Tape job for that. It was peeling off once again. What is up with that stuff? It did the same thing at Operation Endurance but I figured that was due to the rain. What am I doing wrong here?

I left “The House” with T for another 5.5 mile adventure. We went down a road and quickly turned off into someone’s house and farm. We ran into another woman and she joined us for a few miles before taking off. It was her first 50K too but she was a faster runner and probably only back there with us due to getting a bit lost. The course was a little confusing in parts here, but it was frequently marked enough that we were able to figure things out. The rolling hills and mini-climbs did not stop like I assumed they would.

We ran through a weird burned out looking forest area before turning into a more heavily forested and overgrown area. I think this would be the deer trails sections. I didn’t like it here at all. The “trail” was not well defined and vegetation was thick. I got scratched by more prickly bramble bushes than I care to ever see again. We had to make careful study of the pink flags guiding the way because otherwise it would not have been obvious where to go.

At some point , I commented to T that I thought I heard screams behind us. I thought I heard dogs too and had to quickly put those noises out of my mind because there was no positive connection I could imagine between the two. The reason for the screams turned out to be less scary than someone being hunted down by a pack of wild dogs. A girl came running towards us on the trail indicating that she needed help for another runner. Someone had possibly broken their ankle out on the trails. This was one of the runners who T and I encountered as a trio on the steep hills in the first 5.5 miles of the course. Another runner was kind enough to wait with the fallen girl who was some ways back. I wonder if I would do the same for someone I didn’t know on the trails. I honestly can’t say that I would. I wouldn’t allow anyone to wait with me either though. That was a very nice person who waited!

We had cell phones, but none of us had the numbers of anyone connected with the race. You can’t exactly call the police at this point because this is private property as opposed to a state park. And really how would you tell anyone where you were? The only thing to do was continue on to the aid station and send back help. Another runner in the trio, Alan, came along with us for help. I estimated that we had about 2 miles to go to the aid station but I wasn’t really sure. All distances are approximate in trail races.

Those 2 miles turned out to be more like 3 and seemed to take us forever. We ambled through more prickly deer “trails”, ran along a dry fairly creekbed with a few downed trees, and climbed up more an endless hills. I felt kind of bad since someone was injured and waiting. But there was nothing I could do and getting injured in a remote area is just a risk you take with trail races.

When we finally reached the aid station, the volunteers took off immediately on the rescue mission. Excitement over, it was time to get back to the business of my race. There was a nice spread at this aid station and a port-o-potty. Yeah! I did not have to pop any squats in the woods at this race because there was a “bathroom” every 5 miles. A definite plus. T & I didn’t linger too long at the aid station because I felt like those miles too took way too long due to the mini-drama. We were at about 3 hours for 12 miles. I think we managed to do some extra miles in the second stretch but I wasn’t sure. I just knew I would be thrilled to wrap this race up in about 8 hours – if I were to finish at all.

The last third of the course started out in a grassy field after leaving the aid station. We then had a nice downhill wooded trek and crossed a road into someone’s driveway. I wonder how they went about securing permission for this race because at this point we had literally run through in at least 3 people’s yards. This house had an attached barn and an overly friendly black dog who insisted on jumping on me (grr!).

If I had studied the course description, I would have been aware that I was going to spend the next 1.3 miles climbing a long gravel road in nearly directly sunlight. But since I was all tra-la-la-la this race is going to be easy and only has 1000ft of climbing total, I was caught by surprise. The temps were fairly cool at that time but I knew that our second pass of this road would not be fun. Every time I turned a corner, I saw more gravel. The good thing is that just like at DoubleTop 100K, gravel road climbs lead to nice views.

Not the top of the hill.

Still not the top of the hill. Stonehenge maybe?

The climb seemed endless. It wasn’t super steep, just relentless and unforgiving and there was that whole no shade thing. We climbed all the way up to a green water tower. I spoke with Brad G about the race and at the top of the tower, a goat was waiting for him. The goat proceeded to chase him for the next few miles. Hilarious! I didn’t have any such fun but be on the lookout for mountain goats if you run this race.

The water tower marked the end of the climb and led into some really sweet shady downhill single-track. I had left T behind a bit as I climbed because I am in my element during ridiculous climbs for some reason. I spied her through the trees on my way down and assured her the end was coming. I loved running the downhill section and appreciated how cool it was under the trees. Then it was back to the pastures and past a little lake with a water wheel. It was really, really pretty out there but it was around noon and there was no shade.

A photographer was set up in the pasture just in front of a final creek crossing (shallow, but my feet got wet). He got some good snaps of me and charged a reasonable fee for digital images so I bought them instead of stealing them. I am all for supporting small businesses that don’t charge $30 for one freaking JPG.

I'm coming!

 

I'm here! Crossing the creek.

 

Creek crossed and feet wet yet again, I continued on through the grass past another barn complete with horses. The course turned back onto a residential road for maybe another 1/2 mile. I recognized it from the drive in earlier and knew that I was close to wrapping up my first loop. I arrived back at “The House” to friendly, cheering volunteers. That was nice. All of the volunteers at this race were so sweet and helpful.

My split time was 4:01. I got 17 miles for the first half and 2700ft of elevation gain on my watch. I blame a bit of back-tracking and my general inability to run anything like a tangent for the extra mileage. During the second loop I ran much tighter path and got about 16 miles.

I’ll talk about that second loop later!

I had a PT session the Thursday morning before Saturday’s race and I casually mentioned my weekend plans and asked him what he thought.  He quickly said “I think that’s a bad idea.”  When I countered that I would stop running if anything felt off he stated that I could feel fine the whole time and still aggravate my issues.

The PT’s doubt put a little damper on my excitement for the race, but I vowed to proceed anyway.  I was well-rested and hadn’t done much running in a few weeks.  My foot felt fine.  I decided to tape my shin and hope for the best.

I should have known that it wasn’t going to work out.  The weather report for the day indicated warm temperatures and rain/thunderstorms in the AM.  Usually, I get lucky and it doesn’t pan out that way.  Not so on Saturday.  As soon as I pulled into Fort Benning it started full on thundering and lightening.  I sat in the car for 20 minutes hoping that it would stop but no dice.  I made my way in the rain to the registration desk and quickly took care of that business.  I asked the Race Director, Kena, if they would delay the 8AM start due to the scary lightening touching down and she said no.

I busied myself with setting up my mini-aid station under the tents with tables and chairs that were thoughtfully provided.  I had figured that I wouldn’t need all of that, but I’m so glad it was there.  Other racers were more prepared and had their own more elaborate tents.  Maybe I would have done the same if I had intended to be out there for 24 hours.

There was nothing left to do at that point but chat with the other racers.  The crowd here was a little different from the more trail like ultras that I’ve done and it was refreshing.  I noticed that there were quite a few older men and women.  I feel like most ultramarathons are full of people in the 25-50 year old range, but there were people there on Saturday for the 24 hour race that were easily 60+.  Very cool.  This is a great option for those who still have mega-endurance but want to avoid the pressure of cut-offs and just run their own race.

Anyway, Kena must have changed her mind about the lightening because we didn’t start until 8:30AM.  The weather wasn’t quite so scary at that point but it was still pouring down raining.  As always, there was little fanfare at the start and the only way I knew to start running was that everyone else took off.

Thanks to Melizza’s comment, I remembered that my fancy Polar running watch does do intervals.  There was no need to find an app.  I think I stopped using the feature a long time ago because I attempted to use it shortly after my Garmin got run over.  Compared to the Forerunner, the Polar’s beeping to indicate the next interval is very quiet.  I recall being frustrated because I couldn’t hear it over my music so I haven’t used it in years.  I decided to resurrect the feature for this race and I was happy that I could hear the beep just fine (mostly).  I set it up with 5/1 intervals and programmed some of the other options in just in case one style didn’t work out.

I committed to doing 5/1 (run 5 minutes, walk 1 minute) for 3 hours because Polar would only let me setup interval repeats in increments of 30.  It turned out that was pretty much all I would need before things went downhill.  I felt like this interval worked out pretty well.  My target pace was 11:13 and I had no trouble holding that pace.  In fact, I found it a little hard not to go way faster.  The race course was very flat so it was easy to just zone out and run.  The only minor difficulty was dodging the huge rain puddles that formed on the flat gravel.

I struggled to slow my pace, but I remained committed to doing the 5/1 thing even if I went a bit faster than I should have.  Early on in the game, the walk breaks felt unnecessary, but I kept the larger goal in mind.  The 1 minute walk break felt so short that it did not bother me.  I allowed myself a 14:30 walking pace, but I was able to exceed that pretty easily as well since the track was so flat.

I purposely kept my gaze low and avoided taking in too much of my surroundings in the first few hours.  12 hours is a long time to loop a track and I knew boredom was going to be a fact of life.  I didn’t want to start out mentally recording every inch of the course.  The rain helped me out here because I kept having to look down for puddles.  I would definitely use this as a mental strategy in the future.

The rain also helped with the warmer temperatures.  I found that it wasn’t really miserable at all.  Rain sucks when it creates muddy trails or when it is cold.  However, it was about 65 degrees at 8:30AM and the rain felt great.  I don’t like running in warm temperatures at all so anything that could cool things off works for me.

I was nailing my time goals pretty effortlessly.  When my watch beeped, I walked.  When it beeped again, I ran.  I as a slave to the rhythm.  The set pace was supposed to help me average about 15 miles every 3 hours.  I ran 5 loops the first hour and another 5 the second hour.  Right on schedule.

The only thing I did find troublesome was managing eating and drinking.  Not carrying a bunch of stuff was great, but I am used to eating small bits of fairly food frequently.  I was  thrown off by only really having access to my food every mile.  Anytime I needed to eat or drink, I had to swing by the aid station and that takes time.  It probably isn’t a big deal for a 24 hour racer, but I had a lofty goal of 60 miles in 12 hours so that is a tighter time schedule for a slow poke like me.

I didn’t have anything on me to stash stuff food in and the pouring rain made it tough to walk and eat.  Damp Pringles don’t taste so good.  Since I couldn’t yet work things out, I felt like I was stuffing myself quickly or else forgetting to eat or drink altogether.

Since it was early in the race that I didn’t notice any ill effects from my poor food/hydration management.  I spotted other racers carrying very small bottles or using those marathon belts with one small bottle.  I think that is the way to go for me in the future.  My Nathan handheld with 22 oz of fluid just felt way too big to carry.

Hour 2 went much like the first hour.  I hit 5 miles again right on schedule.  My legs felt fresh and I never felt like I was working too hard…mainly because my standard 10-mile run is much faster than 2 hours.  I did start to feel a nagging tightness in my left calf that gave me pause.  I wished I had packed my Stick so that I could roll it out.  I had taped my shin but the rain made the KT tape useless (maybe because I had attempted to reposition it once so it wasn’t as sticky?).  I had to remove the tape during the first hour and my legs were so wet from the rain that re-applying seemed like an exercise in futility.

I soldiered on and forgot about my problems in the music and company of other runners.  Some were very focused and serious the entire time, like those who would go on to win the race, but mostly everyone has a smile or would toss off a comment in passing.  I was kind of surprised at how spread out we all became on a 1 mile track.  I was often alone for long stretches of track.  I eventually spied Ron Clay, a fellow Marathon Maniac and National Black Marathon Association member.  He was planning to get 50 miles in even though he was reduced to walking because of knee issues.  I was inspired that he even got started when he was feeling so crappy.

I also finally got to meet Jameelah.  Jameelah is a local aerobics instructor and ultrarunner.  I saw her name in the results of the 50 miler that I wanted to do and sent her a Facebook message.  There aren’t a lot of ultrarunners period.  There are even fewer black ultrarunners.  You can just imagine how many black female ultrarunners there are.  When I discovered one who lived in my city, I just had to reach out!

As many races as she runs, and she runs a lot, I had never gotten a chance to meet her.  She ran up behind me (she started late LOL) and greeted me like an old friend.  We shared a few laps and I nagged her with questions about how she got started with this whole crazy thing.  She eventually dashed on to establish her own pace (she’s fast!) when my watch beeped at me for yet another walk break.  I was glad to meet her and once again inspired by the things some people can do.  Oh, and her perfectly toned quads and hamstrings made me want to stop eating food and go do some more squats and deadlifts immediately.

Shortly after Jameelah moved on, maybe in my 14th lap, I really started to notice my left leg again.  It didn’t feel right, not at all.  I still stuck with my intervals, but my pace was slowing.  I spent a longer time at the aid station trying to stretch things out and went on for a 15th lap.  I wasn’t feeling good.  I was having to alter my gait to accommodate my left leg.  It didn’t exactly hurt, but it didn’t feel strong.  That’s the trouble with this injury sometimes, I imagine.

I wondered if I was just having a case of the typical ultramarathon mental lows.  But I quickly dismissed that as I replayed my PT’s words in my mind.  If I was feeling this way at 3 hours, I would be hobbling in 6 hours.  I finished the 15 lap still pretty much on schedule with 5 laps every hour.  I took another longer break to stretch again.

The rain had finally stopped and I considered taping and soldiering on but I knew that would just mask the problem and not really solve anything.  I wasn’t yet limping but I would be soon.  I could walk just fine but running presented more of a problem.  I’d already messed something up and I just didn’t think there was any coming back from that.

Speaking of messed up, my stomach was feeling all jacked up too.  The erratic eating that was doing did me no favors.  I’ve never had GI issues in a race before (except when I tried a new gel that didn’t agree with me) but I had them that day.  I wasn’t eating anything different than I would normally eat.  I was just eating it too quickly and not drinking as much because I didn’t have means to carry anything on the loops.  Note to self – don’t ever do that again.

I walked a 16th lap hoping that things would miraculously change with my leg.  They didn’t.  I stubbornly started on a 17th lap knowing that it was probably my last.  I attempted to run some of the lap and it was a short-lived experience.

I considered walking the rest of the 8 hours left or at least walking until I hit a respectable distance (26.2 or 50K).  I realized that there was no point.  I was not going to make the goal I set for myself for this race and all of that walking was not going to do my shin splints any favors.  If you aggravate shin splints too much, you can set yourself up for a stress fracture – no thanks.  Clearly my body is not ready for this right now so I called it a day after my 17th lap.

The timers, who I know from other races, looked surprised when I said I was done so early, but everyone seemed to understand when I mentioned shin splints.  Since I had driven 2.5 hours to get there, I ended up acting as an aid station volunteer until 6PM.  If I couldn’t run, the least I could do is help out, right?

I actually loved being on the other side of the aid station and found it to be a very rewarding experience.  When the rain stopped, the temperatures rose, and I could see the strain already showing on the runner’s faces.  It felt good to offer up a smile, a bit of encouragement, a slice of orange, or a joke to help a runner feel a little bit better.  I had a blast chatting with the other volunteers.  Staying was the best decision I could have made because instead of skulking away feeling defeated, I left feeling more inspired than ever by my fellow runners.

So even though things didn’t go the way I wanted to, I had a good day.  I didn’t shed a single tear and I don’t feel an ounce of regret for calling it a day when I did.  I know I made the right decision.  I’m limping because my tibialis muscles are throbbing today and my next PT session is not going to be fun at all.

I signed up for the SweetH20 50K on April 21st but whether or not I will toe the line is a mystery.  I’m cutting out running entirely until the race and even then it might not be a good idea to proceed.  I’ll hit the elliptical and bike for cardio and bump up my CrossFit attendance (no sprints or box jumps though!) so I won’t be bored and I won’t get lazy.

Maybe because of the whole TTC thing, I know that my ultrarunning hobby is on borrowed time.  It can all end any given month with a pregnancy so my only option is to be grateful for whatever I’m allowed to get done.   It sucks to lose precious time to an injury but there is nothing I can do about that.  I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the races I’ve been able to do so far.  I know that I will do bigger and better things when my body allows.