Hinson Lake 24 Hour 2019

This smile is super fake. Photo credit: Peter Asciutto

It's hard to believe that the last time I pinned on a race bib was at EVEREST BASE CAMP. (Yes, I'm shouting about it. It is the coolest thing I'll probably ever do.)

I have signed up for Hinson Lake 24 Hour Endurance Run every year since 2016 when I had my sights set on running 100 miles for the first time. I had no idea what to expect in 2016 (109 miles), had big goals in 2017 (115 miles), and was less than 2 months out of the boot/training for NYC Marathon in 2018 (58 miles). This year, my big goal for fall is Javelina Jundred in October and while plenty of cool kids can go run a 100 miler one month and then do it again the next month, I know I am not one of those runners.

All summer long, I was feeling a bit of FOMO from not racing, but I was also really proud of myself for not signing up for things just because everyone else was. I truly was training for a goal race and watching my fitness build with each increasing week. I'll be the first to admit I was antsy to post big mileage numbers right after I got back from Nepal, but now I'm really happy to have the buildup go nice and easy.

Heading into Hinson, I knew it would be an opportunity for me to get in a long run as well as get some night running miles in. After conferring with my coach, we decided I would do 50k on Saturday and then 15-20 miles on Sunday morning after getting some rest. Left to my own devices, I certainly would have not had the restraint I exercised and I'm honestly happy I did.

I got to Rockingham on Friday just after noon, dropped my gear at camp, and downed a Subway sandwich in about 7 seconds. Then I came back to camp, set up my tent, picked up my bib, and went back out for ice and other supplies. I vegged out with Jenster, Angie, and John the rest of the afternoon and eventually, carbed up at the $8 pasta dinner put on by the race. We chatted for a bit around camp after dinner, drinking beer/wine and catching up.

I got close to 9 hours of sleep and felt really well-rested when I woke up. The best part of camping at Hinson is that I never worry about setting an alarm or sleeping through the race because it's plenty noisy in the morning when everyone starts to stir. Morning prep went as planned (or so I thought, re: chafe prevention) and I had a bagel with almond butter and a small cup of cold brew.

At 8am, the race started and for the first hour or so, the temperature was reasonably pleasant. I decided to pick up my bottle of GU Roctane at the 3rd lap (mile 4.5) as that would allow me a few miles of not having to deal with holding it. I meant to grab a gel at that time too, but forgot and was already behind the nutrition by the time I got to mile 6 (mistake #1).

I thought I'd be okay because I used about 2.5 scoops of Roctane and then proceeded to take a gel every 45 minutes or so for the next few hours, but eventually, I got lazy about my nutrition (mistake #2). Plus, my handheld lid was not screwed down tightly when I had the race volunteer fill it with Gatorade and it was squirting all over the place. It was just annoying the shit out of me and so I chugged what was left and threw it in my camp chair (mistake #3).

I knew in years past that I had success in staying around 10:00 pace in the beginning and could somehow manage to keep that through around 100k, give or take a few miles where I might need a little extra time for pit stops. It seemed super easy for the first couple of hours, but I knew even when I got to the first of 2 prescribed tempo parts of my run that there was no way I was going to have the gas to do it. I had basically given up before I even started. So I just kept on with my supposed forever pace until I was clinging on and just waiting for that 50K mark to rollover on my watch.

Dying on the inside. Photo credit: Peter Asciutto

As the day warmed up, I was trying to be all proactive about staying cool and grabbed ice for my sports bra and buff. Except it was so humid that nothing was drying out and everything was sopping wet. I had applied plenty of Vaseline to my thigh, the top of my shorts, crack (sorrynotsorry TMI), and on the front part of my sports bra. However, I negated to put any on the back part of my sports bra or the liner of my shorts (mistake #4). BECAUSE WHO CHAFES FROM THE SHORTS LINER? Oh wait, I do...FML.

I felt the chafe slowly and increasingly stinging and at mile 25, I stopped and put on capris despite the rising temperatures. Fun fact: there was a huge hole in the hip on them. But it's ultrarunning and I honestly would have still put them on even if I had known it beforehand.

So I ran the last 6 miles with gaping capris, wondering how in heck I ever ran 100+ miles around Hinson Lake before and how the heck I was going to do it again in 4 short weeks.

I stopped my watch at the 50K mark and then finished my lap, grabbing a few slices of pizza as I headed to our tent. Then I proceeded to try to hydrate, eat, and stay out of the sun for the next few hours. I laid in Angie's anti-gravity chair for an excessive amount of time, grateful she was actually out running while I was eating pineapple with dirty hands.

Jen sat with me for awhile, staying out of the heat of the day and then she went back out at 5pm to get in some miles. She let me know when hot chicken tenders arrived and I did a lap to go get myself some dinner. And about an hour later, I finally had to go pee so I did another lap to take care of that at the lodge and to stop for more food. I happened to go out at a perfect time to catch a couple of great pictures of the lake at sunset.

Once it got dark, I decided to go try to just lay down in my tent even if I didn't actually fall asleep. I set my alarm for 12:30 a.m. so I could give myself some time get ready for round #2. I think I actually fell asleep a bit despite all the noise and somehow felt really good once I woke up. My legs felt fresh and I was excited to go knock out the miles left prescribed. I asked Jen if she was headed back out and tagged along with her for a number of laps. It was so nice to run with someone and my head was in a much better place when she left me to my own devices around the 10 mile mark.

I decided 15 miles was plenty and then stopped to change into my flip flops so I wouldn't be tempted to run any more. Because I was now walking, I was able to eat and drink pretty easily with each lap. I thought I should stop with each passing lap, but then I was like, well, what the heck else am I going to do? So I just kept walking and surprisingly felt pretty good just cruising around lap after lap.

The sun eventually finally started to come up, I grabbed my banana from the volunteer, and made it halfway through a lap when the buzzer went off at 8:00 a.m., signaling the end of the race.

I completed 63.78 miles and was 39th overall out of 388 runners. Not a shabby day (& night) for the legs.

It was definitely the weirdest Hinson I've had so far. Mostly because I feel like I should be the fittest I've been since 2017, but that 50k did not leave me feeling that way. In fact, I felt like I was even less fit that last year's race! But I also know I went into the race without really much of a taper (40 miles in the prior week and some shorter tempo sessions) and it was arguably the hottest/most humid it's been since I've been racing it. So I'm trying to give myself a little grace and hope that it was a good way to get all the funky racing out of my system before Javelina!

Hinson Lake 24 Race Report: Get Your Banana Ready!

In 2016, the Hinson Lake 24 Hour Ultra Classic was the race that earned me my first buckle. I completed 109 miles that weekend and knew that I would return after recovering from experiencing some of the highest highs and lowest lows.

 

In 2017, I trained hard. Really, really hard. I ran half marathons on weekdays and spent 6-7 hours running each weekend. I had big goals going into the race and ended up with nearly 116 miles, a new 100 mile PR, and a course record.

At the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve, I signed up for my 3rd Hinson Lake 24 Hour Ultra Classic. I had just come off a new 6 hour PR and had some successful marathons despite doing zero road marathon training. I felt strong and good and happy.

Fast forward through 9 months that consisted of 2 stress fractures and all the recovery processes that came with them. I had a reasonably successful half-marathon (+warm up and cool down =16 total miles) the weekend prior at Augusta and with the notion of getting in a long run before NYC, I had a plan. I would run 20ish on Saturday morning at HL24, 5ish on Saturday evening and 6ish on Sunday morning. This would give me a nice 50K and not tax my body too much.

Photo cred: Tim Garriss

It was incredibly humid the day before the race and it did not appear to be getting any better according to weather predictions. I crawled into my tent that night, almost sweating on top of my sleeping bag. Luckily, my superpower is sleeping anywhere, anytime and I found I had dozed off easily when someone latecomers woke me up dragging their cooler through the sand just outside my tent at 11 p.m.

I didn't even set my watch alarm because I knew the hubbub of the morning would wake me up. People started stirring around 5-something and I eventually made the trek to the lodge to pee. There was still plenty of time and I lounged around, eating my overnight oats and eventually getting all my gear laid out like I wouldn't have any time to stop. It was hard to disassociate myself from the fact that I would have plenty of time to comb through my snacks.

I pinned on my bib and headed over to the start. I watched Ray receive his 1,000 mile jacket and put my hand over my heart for the national anthem. And then we were off!

The first few laps, I ran in stride with Matt, keeping the pace around 11 minute miles and conversation light. We parted ways around the 4th loop and I continued on while he conserved himself for a long day and night. I was enjoying the easy effort after the half marathon pace from the prior weekend. Thought it wasn't ideal to be going as slow for NYC, it really was better for my psyche to have the time on my feet and the easier effort.

Photo Cred: Peter Asciutto

The air was like soup and while I was having huge feelings of FOMO not going for big miles, I was also a little relieved that I wasn't going for big miles.

Round and round I went on the 1.5 mile loop. I grabbed peanut butter pretzels, mixed sweet tea with water, and didn't worry about the pace on my watch. With the 1.5 mile loop, I either had to run 19.5 miles or 21 so clearly I opted for 21. When I got through that lap, I had been toying with the idea of doing a marathon and then stopping for a bit. So I keep running through 22.5 and in the middle of that lap, I came somewhat to my senses and told myself to stop no matter what at that lap.

It was really, really hard to make myself go sit down.

Which sounds insane if you aren't a runner. Most people would probably be relieved to go sit at nearly 23 miles. But I was frustrated for a bit that I wasn't healthy enough to continue running without screwing up my progress.

So I sat.

About 30 minutes went by before Rachelle came to sit and asked if I had any of the pizza yet. My A goal was to eat the pizza hot!

Well, shit. 

The start/finish line was about a quarter mile in the wrong direction from our camp so anytime I wanted to eat or drink, I opted to just take a 1.5 mile lap instead of backtracking. So I got up and walked a lap so I could grab some hot pizza.

And then I sat again.

I grew restless and decided to go on a slushie run to Sonic. Jen had mentioned it the day before and I thought it would be A) a forced way for me to not be racing B) a nice treat for Jen and C) a nice treat for other people. I managed to get there during happy hour and sat in line for 20 minutes in the drive-thru. Yes, it was super weird to leave a race in the middle of the race, drive to a fast food place, and come back.

I doled out the slushies and had a few extras that I hawked like scalped tickets on the corner of the trail. It took less than a minute to find takers for the extras. One guy thanked me at least 3 times throughout the rest of the race!

Jay came and got his gear from me and then I walked another lap at one point with Jen and then did a few running laps with Matt. I turned on my GPS for a bit on the running laps, but then just decided to keep it off for the rest of the race.

Everything else I did after those last 4.5 miles of running were strictly walking. I walked when they had hamburgers and chicken tenders at dinner and marveled how I never even realized they had those before. Maybe they didn't? All I know is that I definitely wouldn't have been eating them 8-9 hours into the race if I was chasing big miles!

I walked when Jen needed company. I walked a bit with Win and Paul. I walked after sitting in my camp chair for extended sessions.I ran into old Hinson friends (hey Tim!) and made new ones. And I actually felt really, really good!

Photo cred: Tim Garriss

After the sun set, I did a few more walking laps and then decided to try to get some rest so that I could be alert for Matt and Jen if they wanted company in the evil 2am- 5am time. With all the walking laps after I ran 22.5 + 4.5 or so earlier in the day, I was at 43 miles by about 10:30pm. I got into my tent and passed out almost immediately, but had the wherewithal to set my alarm for 2am.

When my watch alarm went off at 2am, I reset it for 2:15am and laid in my tent for a few more minutes. At 2:15am, I stumbled out of my tent and got ready in case if anyone wanted company. I refreshed the tracker and saw Matt had not crossed the mat in awhile and I immediately went to his tent and starting shaking it. Discovering he was not inside, I stood and waited. He arrived shortly thereafter looking pretty rough. Everything was hurting and despite my cajoling him with calories, hydration, Biofreeze, and the promise he could do it just by putting one foot in front of the other, he was not interested in making another step at the moment.

I actually felt annoyingly refreshed from my 3 hour nap and decided to walk a lap. And then a couple more. And then I sat for awhile and walked a few more laps. Laurie was at the aid station at this point and I was actually kind of hungry so it was fun to just go 'round and 'round, walking and getting snacks with each loop.

One of the many silly things that this race does is have a bunch of garden gnomes all over the course. Runners move them to different spots the entire 24 hours. There was once with a snorkel that ended up in multiple puddles. They stick them on the trail, on the sewer drain tops, next to trees, etc. I had never moved one in my prior two races, so it seemed like a good year to walk with one for a bit and I left it on a bench on the footbridge over the lake.

I hit 50 miles total and took another short break before the sky started to lighten up. More and more people returned to the race as the clock wound down and I went back to walking. I brought my phone with me to take some pictures of the sunrise and the signs on the course. My legs were starting to get a bit tired, but as it neared 8am, I kept a decent walking pace.

I crossed the timing mat around 7:30 or so and grabbed my banana for the banana lap. Volunteers write your number on a banana and a horn blares right at 8am. You drop your banana on the side of the trail and they measure out your last lap to add to your total mileage. I ended up crossing the timing mat one more time and kept going for about a minute past our campsite.

58.82 miles total!

Jen had been pushing for a top 10 female placement in the final couple of hours and I loved watching her get all competitive. Spoiler alert: she did it! We were all pretty exhausted from our individual efforts and decided to sit around enjoying breakfast beers before breaking down our camps.

I definitely was FAR more awake than in years past going home and while I had 58 miles on my body, I was actually not very sore all things considering. My feet and ankles were a little puffy and I had a funky rash/skin irritation from the sand and grit in my shoes. However, I had no blisters and my chafing was pretty minimal. Woot!

I was worried I might have overdid it on the walking in retrospect and made sure to stick to my post-race plans of complete rest for a couple of days. By Wednesday, all the tightness had subsided and I breathed a sigh of relief that everything felt really, really good! After a week of very short runs, I will be ready to return to go into the last 4 weeks of marathon training on Monday. I have no idea what my fitness will look like on November 4th, but I'm excited to toe the line healthy!

Resolution Run 6 Hour: The last PRs of 2017

After I raced the Jacksonville Marathon and came up with my 3rd fastest marathon on December 16th and the hurt-but-still-BQ'd Rehoboth Beach Marathon on December 2nd, I was definitely in recovery mode. I didn't even crack 20 miles the week before Christmas mostly because I was sore and tired. So I plodded along a few miles here and there, but it was all just slow and short. The top of my left foot felt bruised from JAX so I was also trying to be smart (ish).

The week of Christmas, I felt sluggish from all the cookies, steak, and wine. I asked Laurie & Jen on the 26th if they were doing the Resolution Run and they both were traveling. I did a 10 miler at MP +30 on the treadmill that evening and woke up the next day with a return of the sore foot and a head cold. Ugh. I took the 27th off running and decided to do an easy 5 mile progression Thursday.

On Friday, I woke up thinking I was just going to tell Matt I would skip the Resolution Run. But then he texted me a screenshot of his registration. Crap. I seriously wavered back and forth for hours about it all day when it popped into my mind. My sniffles were mostly subsided, but my stupid foot was still sore. I taped it up and told myself I would just wait until after work to decide.

It did actually feel much better with the tape and decided I would just sign up. The race fee was only $10 so even if I woke up feeling horrible, I could just either not go or hang out and volunteer.

With a 1:00 p.m. start in Greenville, SC, I had plenty of time to sleep in and pack up my gear in the morning. I made the 2 hour drive easily and ate some avocado wraps and granola I had packed about an hour before the race. It was definitely chilly just sitting around and I waited until about T-minus 15 to toss off my warm-ups before we got going. I popped a couple of ibuprofen, ate my traditional mini Snickers, and popped in my ear buds.

Matt got caught up at work and so I would be starting the race without really knowing anyone. Cool with a marathon, but kind of lonely in an ultra. The race director ran the first 1 mile lap with us so I just stuck to the front of the pack when we started. It was just under a 10:00 minute mile and while I was grateful for an easy start and conversation, it was nice to get moving after that first lap.

There was a teenager who leapt out in front and I watched his galloping, light strides as he slowly separated from me. He was built like a typical fast high school runner and immediately wondered how long he would hold that pace. I knew I was being a bit reckless with my own pace, but it felt comfortable and all my body parts seemed to actually being feeling good.

Each lap we ran, we had to grab a pebble from a 5 gallon bucket and place it into a cup. The first few times, it was kind of fun to stop and watch the pile grow. Admittedly, I got a bit annoyed with this system later in the race as other runners would take their time to choose a rock from the communal pile and drop it in their cup. Silly in retrospect as those few extra seconds didn't mean anything, but it was just one of the things breaking my rhythm every mile.

The course this year was less hilly than the prior year, but I still ended up with over 2,000' of gain for 40 miles. It was a mixture of paved sidewalk, concrete sidewalk, a smidgen of dirt, and a grassy soccer field. All of that in a mile. So just when I'd find my groove on the pavement, it would switch. And when I started to feel happy that the grass would be absorbing some shock, it would switch. So it really kind of was like an urban trail run in that you had to pay attention to your footing a good portion of the time.

I started blasting my music after the first mile, content to just put my head down and run until Matt got there. I was about 7 miles in when he arrived and we continued seeing each other in the same out-and-back section for many, many miles. It was kind of funny that we were running nearly the identical pace for about 15 miles or so. He stopped at the aid station at one point long enough that I was able to finally reach him when I was in my 20-something mile.

Somewhere in the late teens, I felt a twinge in the hamstring and started to panic. It wasn't acute like when it first happened, but rather the same residual soreness I had afterwards. Strangely enough, it dissipated after about 5 minutes and I never felt it again through the race. It kind of put me in a funk through those middle miles though as I was worried I was going to have to cut my run short.

When I did catch up to Matt, I was still in that funk. And really wasn't in any mood to talk. I kind of mumbled some words at him for about a mile and a half and then pushed him to go on ahead. Though I wasn't inherently feeling anything physically bad (wahoo!), I wanted to do quiet work by myself.

There was a 3 hour race that started at 4:00 p.m. and it was good to get some faster moving legs out on the course. The 12 hour runners were definitely into the zombie zone and the teenager who led the 6 hour for awhile had begun walking. About an hour into their race, I passed one of the 3 hour women and she must've thought I was in contention in her race because she immediately came blowing past me with a whole new gusto. Though I knew we weren't competing in the same race, it was good to kind of have someone be the pacemaker for at least a short while.

I had been pretty on top of my calories all day and was proud that side of the race was going really well. After I got into the double digits, I put my handheld on and kept hydrating until the final hour. I started with gels and then guzzled Tailwind in the middle miles. At some point, I grabbed a coconut bar and a handful of rosemary potatoes from the aid station and felt like a new person.

I drank an entire Coke from my stash as I was actually feeling sleepy in the second half. It seemed to be helping so I sought out another one from the aid station. I found one on the table, opened it, drank a quarter of it, and came back about 45 minutes later and drank the last quarter of it. Apparently I was sharing with someone, but these things somehow seem less gross when you've been running for 4 hours?

My marathon split was somewhere in the 3:40s and I was relieved when I hit that mark. Somewhere before I actually hit 50K, Matt and I were running together again and he asked if I had ever gone under 4:30 for a 50K. My 50K prior to this race was 4:47, but happy crossed over the line around 4:30 and Garmin beeped at 4:32:21. My GPS was losing about 2/100ths of a mile each lap so no official chip PR - just a Garmin one. But hey, a PR is a PR!

As it got close to 6:00 p.m. and the 5 hour mark, I noticed the waning sun and decreasing temperature. When I stopped to get my headlamp, I also tossed my gloves back on. I actually felt very comfortable temperature-wise the last hour so the gloves were a great choice!

Runner math was not really on the table until I had about 45 minutes left in the race. I was content to just get to a marathon, a 50K, then 35 miles. Once I got to 35 miles, I realized that I could hit 40 if I stayed within a reasonable pace. It was definitely getting harder and the miles were wearing on me. But with the finish nearing, I kept going. Just 3 more laps, just 2 more laps, just 1 more lap.

I knew I'd have 39.5ish on my Garmin when I stopped and really wanted it to say 40. But when I stopped after my 40th lap - the lap time became good enough. I was pooped. Happy, but pooped. I counted all my rocks, recorded my laps, and waited for Matt to come through on his final lap. He ended up with 33 laps - we basically did the same pace for 5 of the 6 hours - and he came in second!

40 miles in the 6 hour is a PR for me. Coming off 2 marathons and on a less-than-ideal course makes me feel good about where my fitness is even if my body parts are randomly uncooperative. There is always the what if factor of an ideal course and a rested body, but a couple of extra miles in the 6 hour is one I'm okay to leave on the table for now.

Life and Merrill's Mile RR: having the courage to be as raw and real as possible

July 1st, 1:30 p.m.

For the umpteenth time in my life, when things didn't go as planned, I have turned to running for a bit of therapy. Partially for the ability to feel in control of something, but partially to physically exhaust myself to the point that I am more patient, more kind, and more understanding. Sometimes I need those qualities to treat other humans better, but more likely, I need it to treat myself better.

Losing my job just over a week ago was a direct punch to the face. It was unexpected and certainly left me questioning everything I have done as a professional. I went through all the grief emotions. And though I felt enormously flawed, I also couldn't help but feel guilty. Guilt because of all the things I still was grateful to have. Tremendous people in my life that have lifted me up. A roof over my head and food in my belly. A healthy body. The ability to keep dreaming despite feeling pushed to the ground. But there is no denying that there were dark moments over the last 10 days. 

I told myself I would give myself a calendar week at the very least to consider my options. I updated my resume, made contacts on LinkedIn, reached out to former colleagues, and forced myself into becoming comfortable talking about it. I started with the most appealing positions first and slowly moved into things that I would consider or felt I met the qualifications. 

Radio silence until Wednesday.

In the first few days, I dreamed about the AT as an outlying possibility. It wavered from really possible to really financially irresponsible and I pecked at research. Because I wasn't hearing anything back immediately from any future employer, I allowed myself to fester on this dream. Advice trickled in and I even went so far as to compile a list of gear I would need to begin the journey.

But Wednesday came and I got my first bite of returning to work as a "normal" adult. It made me feel empty inside. I went through the motions of the interview and while I could picture myself in the position, it didn't make me feel any sort of joy. At the end of the day, I knew that if prolonged, I would have to accept whatever was offered to me. I could always look while I worked, but I feared that I would get stuck in something that I ultimately did not want to be doing. And I don't want to live to work. I want to work to live. 

Again, the guilt. I should be grateful for any opportunity. I should take whatever it offered. 

But Wednesday morning, I had found out about a former colleague passing away far too young and wrote a brief manifesto about my crossroads. I went for a run. I started out slowly as it was taper week and I had already used my rage energy to run a 5:57 mile the previous Friday. My mind was wandering and as I made the turn around, I started to get sad and angry again. Sad that the stupid adage of "only the good die young" was so poignant in the situation. And angry that it took someone's death to make me aware of my life.

It seems like a simple decision when put into that context.

But as the week came to an end, I had 5 interviews and the very millennial attitude of I only want something that enjoy. Am I sabotaging my own chances of being a viable employee? What if I turn something down and I don't get any more offers? Am I being too greedy and should I just be gracious with what I am offered?

I'll never know how the other way would turn out. That's the thing about decisions. You don't get a redo. My logical brain is weighing the pros and cons so hard on every situation that I feel like my brain is going to explode. And the few minutes I find in peace every day without the anxiety of the unknown are rare.

But when I run, I am at peace. It is all I have to do in the moment. It is all I have to concentrate on. No matter what else is going on, I cannot change the past and I cannot worry about the future.     

July 1st, 7:30 p.m.

Adam and Megan have traveled an hour to see me off. There is no trade-off for them as spectators and I cannot help but feel overwhelmed by the fact I have such good people in my life. Dan raps on my car window in the rain and tells me that his wife and daughter are also staked out in the car. A short while later, the rain stops and Adam helps me pull out my gear. Jay has come down from Raleigh on a very last minute decision to cross Georgia off his list. Soon after, I see Sam out on the course, plugging away at his 100 miler. And look, Sarah and Sean are here too!

We chat a bit with everyone and bide the time until the 9:00 p.m. runners line up at the starting line. A few of us are called to check our timing chips and suddenly, it's go time.

There is a pack of us that starts out running mid-9's very comfortably. Jay and I are super chatty the first mile and I almost forgot that we had spectators as we came around the first lap. Hi Megan! Hi Adam! It is surprisingly comfortable for an evening in July in Georgia and after a long week of limiting my runtherapy due to the taper, I am ready for some miles.

On the second lap, I high-fived Megan and gave Adam a kiss before they took off for the evening. Our pack continued to go around and around for the first hour with steady conversation and introductions. I had been outed as the overall winner from the prior year which put pressure on me in both good and bad ways.

At the 45 minute mark, I stopped to grab a gel and my handheld. 12 hours is a long time to stay on top of calories and hydration and I was hoping that I could be as successful as last year. The pack thinned a bit in the next hour and then it was just Jay and I. Every time I saw someone on the course, it was a boost and though I didn't run with Hal, he did leave me a bag of popcorn in my camping chair.

I had another gel at about an hour and 30 minutes in and that marked the end of any strategy for nutrition. Jay and I separated at some point and I started just clicking off the miles in the low 9's. At first, I was a little concerned to lose company so early on. However, it did make it much easier to just run by feel and not be as concerned with staying in stride. I continued to reevaluate my effort and backed off when I felt like I was pushing the needle a little too far.

By the end of the 3rd hour, I was feeling good about my overall pace and pretty much on track to repeat the prior year's performance. It rained for about 15 minutes or so and I was happily cooled off. My guts were rebelling a bit and I felt instant relief after a porta-potty jaunt. My miles in the 3rd-4th hour were some of the best, but I was digging myself into a hole by avoiding calories and hydration. I ignorantly clipped off some sub 9's and would later pay the price.

After hitting the marathon mark just past the 4th hour, I picked up my iPod as a treat. The rain caused one of the earbuds to be full of static and so I just had one in my ear. Coupled with my inability to be comfortable at time, the music situation was hurting more than helping. I think I ended up tossing it onto my chair after about 3 laps.

Hitting 50K was the next milestone and I was plunging hard and fast into the pain cave. I stopped talking to people as I went by. The next 2 hours were completely and utterly miserable. I knew I needed to eat, but I kept passing the aid station because my stomach was a wreck. As the 6 hour mark loomed, I desperately wanted to throw in the towel. Everything hurt. My stomach, my legs, and worst of all, my mind. I couldn't wrap my head around running for 6 more hours.

I went to the darkest crevices of my mind. The self-loathing was cutting me deeper with each mile. I screwed up at life. And now I am screwing up running too. Mentally, I was 99% certain that there was no way I was going to find a happy place again in the race.

At 6 hours and 28 minutes, I stopped to do damage control at the aid station after emptying my guts at the porta-potty. I knew even if I was going to spend the next 5+ hours walking, I needed to get my stomach under control. I ate a slice of orange and drank a cup of ginger ale. I walked about 50 feet beyond the start/stop line and started making noises like a dog about to puke.

And then I puked everything I had just consumed. 6 violent and painful pukes.

I brushed my mouth with the back of my arm and stood still for a moment. And then I moved tentatively forward. Into a walk. Into a jog. Into a run.

Though I knew I was basically running on empty, I felt better than I had for about 15 miles. I gave myself a few more miles and then decided to try some broth. I'm not a soup person. And I was shoving ice in my sports bra half the night to stay cool even though it was in the 60's. But Sarah's love broth was a magical experience. I drank a cup of it and within minutes, felt like someone had injected me with a power boost. As I came around with my empty cup in hand, I asked for a refill.

At 8:14, I passed the 50 mile mark. 7 minutes slower than last year. I felt a little defeated and couldn't do the runner math to figure out that I still had a shot at a repeat performance. But the broth definitely got my body going in the right direction and though the miles were wearing on me, I was in a much better spot than the 2 hours prior.

My strategy dropped into the run/walk category over the next 12 miles. I would start walking at the start/finish line and pick up at the D2 sign. It was maybe about 1/8th of a mile. It would allow me a minute or so to digest the few things I could manage at the aid station. And mentally, it gave me something to look forward to every lap.

As the sky started to lighten, I felt a sense of relief knowing that I could get rid of my headlamp and visor. Plus, being able to see the other runners was huge. We could yell out to each other across the loop because we could finally see each other!

Nearing 7 a.m., I realized that I actually had a 100K PR that I was about to beat. This gave me a huge mental boost towards the end. And last year, I was trying to just hit 100K so I stopped and did a lot of walking after reaching my goal. This year, I had a shot at cracking 70 if I stuck with it the last 2 hours. I allowed myself a little bit longer walk as reward for the 100K and then kept on plugging away.

My mind was settled, my stomach was tolerable, and now I just had to overcome overuse soreness. The upper outer portion of where the hip meets the glutes meets the thighs on both sides were aching. Of the three pains, I can handle the body soreness easiest so I was relieved that this was the devil I was dancing with late in the race.

I really wasn't paying much mind to the overall standings until the last couple of hours when Jay checked on them. Loop races are weird because you never really know who is in first. Even the fastest runners will stop for aid and walk at some points. I was a lap ahead of the field and unless I experienced a breakdown and/or someone found a second wind, it was likely I could pull off an overall win.

Sean was pushing me to go for 71, 72, but I was definitely content to hit 70.X. As soon as I realized that hitting 70 was a possibility, I really just stayed in the moment. There was no outside noise. No dwelling in the past. No dreaming about the future. Just one foot in front of the other. Breathe steady. Stay moving.

The best part of the race usually is the last mile. But this one was especially great because I got to finish with Joseph and Cary who had been part of our pack at the beginning of the race. Both had hit the 100K mark and we all walked the last mile together with less than 20 minutes left on the clock. I don't even remember what we talked about, but that kind of camaraderie in ultras is easily the best part of doing them. It was so distracting that the finish and finish line experience was kind of a blur.

We all stood around and talked for a bit before collecting our medals and going about the rest of the morning. Jay and I had breakfast beers and sat soaking in the sun before we parted ways. I bid Sam good luck as he continued his 100 mile journey and high-fived John on my way out.

As I drove down the winding roads heading home, I honestly couldn't believe how dark things got around 3:30 a.m. and how I somehow managed to keep going. The body is an extraordinary thing--I am grateful for the one that allows me to do what I love. These experiences prove that things don't always go as planned. And maybe it's a bunch of idealistic hogwash, but I like to think that getting roughened up makes me appreciate all the things I am still so fortunate to have.