A Sad Sad Tale or "My Sissy Feet Took Me Down"

Lap 4...about 47 miles in.  I knew I was compensating trying to not step on the bulging fluid filled sac that was the entire bottom of my foot.  The trail went up hill now and the rocks were loose, and suddenly, I felt/heard the pop and I know I screamed.  Loudly.  I also felt the liquid filling my shoes from the inside out.  I stopped and someone behind me asked if I was alright.  At that moment I thought I might throw up, so I waved him on and just stood there contemplating what to do next.

In the end it was my feet - pure and simple- that prevented me from finishing what was to be my first 100 mile race.  I would never have suspected it and if anyone asked what might keep me from heading out on the 5th loop, blisters would have been close to the bottom of the list.  I have run for over 25 years and while I have had minor blisters, well, nothing like this...or even close.  But on this day, in this race, my feet would be my undoing.

The weekend started perfectly.  It took a while to get to Raleigh, but it was a fun road trip with beautiful weather, and when we stopped for dinner around 7, the flowers were blooming, it was still plenty light and just beginning to get cool.  We ate, continued on our way and made it to the hotel about 10 pm.  We left a day early just for that reason - wanted a day to familiarize ourselves with where we were going and just have a chance to relax.  While I had everything "arranged" I hadn't done the final "packing" so I wanted time for that as well.

Full disclosure: I was somewhat overwhelmed and ended up just throwing everything in the car figuring we had most of the day Friday to make a real plan.  The manic weather forecast went from  heat to rain to cool so it was a crap shoot knowing what to wear or bring.  Of course I brought everything.  Still, we ended up in Dicks, Target and Home Depot getting things that I suddenly felt like I needed.  Such a rookie!

We headed over to the park early, probably before 1 pm to find out where we would be assigned parking and to pick up my number.  We were in parking lot B, which wasn't very far from the start/finish.  We scouted around a while, and took pictures before finding the cabin to pick up the race stuff.  I felt so amazing - so confident and healthy.  I had no doubt in my mind I could get this thing done!

We left the park and came back later for the Runner Briefing in the evening.  It was warm, but exciting and all the first timers had to stand and take an oath to "Eat before we were hungry, Drink before we were thirsty, and Walk before we were tired!"  Check, not a problem.  I had plenty of practice with each of those.  And on walking out of the cabin, we were pleasantly surprised to see my amazing crew, Pam, Nanette and Lucia, who had come all the way from Carroll County/DC to support me.  I am so lucky!

We decided not to stay for the race dinner - it was really warm and I am so superstitious about eating unfamiliar food - we decided to just get a pizza in the room while the crew did a little pre-pace partying!  Not really, but I did hear that they had a wild scrabble game!  It was hard to go to sleep that night, especially since the hotel, in addition to hosting guests for Umstead, was also hosting a biker convention...wtf??  (Not the best combination, but I am not sure I would have slept well regardless, so at least it was entertaining listening to the conversations outside the window. 

Finally, Saturday morning and I was off.  And really, the first two 12.5 mile loops were big fun and uneventful.  I ran, I walked, I ate, I drank.  I felt pretty good and while it was a warm day, I wasn't uncomfortable.  About half way into the second loop, I made a mental note to change my shoes and socks (I wore trail shoes, and this was very "untrail" running- more of a packed stone road).  I thought that changing into my road shoes would feel better since I didn't need the traction of my montrails.  So at ~24 miles, I switched out my socks, powdered my feet, put on the new shoes and was on my way.  Fine and dandy until about half way through when I had passed the mid way aide and was making my way up the hillier section of the trail.  I started feeling hot spots, but they came and went, so when I came into the main aid for the third time, I didn't bother too much with my feet. I was feeling a little nauseous at that point, so hubby walked the spur with me, until my stomach settled and I went on.  All was fine for miles - I was getting tired, but was eating and drinking and starting to feel better stomach-wise.  I loved seeing the frontrunners, who by now had lapped me, just cruising along.  Everyone was so kind and supportive.  I ran and walked with so many people all giving me first time advice, especially to drink, since it was a warm breezy day.  One guy gave me a whole explanation about why wicking clothes are bad in certain temperatures, because they fool your body into thinking you aren't sweating, so you tend not to drink.  Interesting.

At the mid way aid station, there were four port a pots, and one was marked "Women Only!".  What a great idea!  It felt nice to have a break from the woods, which didn't provide much privacy yet!  I headed out again, and only then did I start to feel bubbles growing on the balls of both feet.  What??  I wasn't sure what was going on, but I had passed the manned aid and all that was available the next 6 miles was unmanned tables so I continued on.  I knew it was getting warmer and I was sweating more, so I shouldn't have been surprised when I felt a real blister developing on my right foot.  It seemed to be at the base of my big toe, but rapidly growing.  One thing I did not carry with me in my pack was duct tape, or really anything to do something for my feet, so I kept going, but was shocked and dismayed at how quickly my feet were degrading.  The last 5 miles of the 12 had a lot of hills with larger rocks on top of the road, and because the weather was so dry, there was also a very fine grit that was on top of everything.  Not sure if this contributed to my foot woes, but by mile 47 I was in pain. The right blister on the ball of my foot had popped and after a few stinging moments, it stopped hurting, but my left foot was just in a world of hurt.  I am not sure why I didn't just sit down and pop it then and there on the side of the road with my fingernail, but I didn't, and instead figured I would make it to the main aid station and take care of it then.  But I ended up trying to run and then walk on the very outside of my foot, so my ankle was also beginning to hurt.  I decided to go back to running on my full foot, up the hills, but on the first push off, that blister burst, and here I was.  Not sure what to do with almost 3 miles left to run to get back to the aid station.   I have given birth twice without medication so am no sissy when it comes to pain.  But this was as if I was walking on shards of broken glass, and every time I stepped on another small rock, it made it that much worse.  Thank God I had my music.  I focused on that as I made my way the last few miles.  Each step ignited an internal debate with my brain insisting that my foot not be put back down on the ground.  I was not alone in my misery at that point, which didn't make it better, but did provide a distraction.  A few of the folks who were finishing 62 miles were in the woods with various ailments, trying to just keep going.  Honestly, the people who looked the most comfortable were the ones who were far behind (but who ultimately made it the whole way....hmmmm.)
As I came up on the 50 mile mark, I didn't see how I could go on.  I had been talking to another runner for the last mile who had finished several  hundreds, and he said that although the aid stations were good with blisters, trying to save my feet for another 50 miles might be more than they could patch up. Once they got so big and burst, it would be hard to save the feet.  As I climbed the steps to the timers, I knew I had to tap out.  I could hardly walk, and even if they were able to fix up my feet, the pain had made me so nauseous that I knew I was behind eating and drinking in the last 5 miles.  I was ready... to be done.  So sadly, and without fanfare, I took the 50 mile finish and sat down.
My biggest regret was not getting to do the evening part of the run with my dear friends.  I was so looking forward to hours of talking and running and walking and hearing stories.  I think I was more looking forward to this than the actual finish.  I felt so sad that they had made the journey to N.Carolina, only to have to turn around and go home without running with me at all.  They were so very gracious though, and still made me feel good for getting to the 50.  I think they knew as soon as I took my shoes off that there was  no saving this run.

So many things to think about if I try this again.  First, I was too impatient to get out of the aid stations.  Taking the time to assess what I needed and how I felt should have been my first priority, but I was most concerned about moving forward.   Second, I was pretty ignorant about the trail surface.  I was not at all expecting packed stone, and while I have done lots of miles on roads and even rail trails, this surface seemed to really irritate my feet.  As we drove into the park, I remember seeing dirt trails in the woods and thinking how nice and spongy that would feel.  Now I know.  And I think the last thing that I learned is that no matter how much you prepare, or want something, knowing when to stop is a good thing.  I don't think I could have pushed myself to continue, or been talked into it, but maybe I could have.  I'm not sure, but for that moment, stopping was the right thing for me. I can always second guess now, but right there, with my feet on fire and my stomach rebelling, I did the best I could do.