A Race for The Ages

Pulling into the parking lot at Fred Deadman park, the familiar doubt and hesitation started to bubble up. This was my third attempt at the 100 mile distance, and my confidence was shaky. It had been an 11 hour drive to Manchester, Tennessee, broken up by an overnight stay in Roanoke, but we still arrived at A Race For The Ages 12 hours before my 5 am start time.  I thought that meant an eternity of second guessing and worry about my decision to  impulsively enter a 100  mile race just weeks before the event.  It didn't get any better when I went to the timing table to "sign in" and was told by the race director (in a very slow, unconcerned, yet knowing manner with a classic southern drawl) "well, the beauty of having starts every hour is that you just have to come back an hour before your start to check in."  Um, that would be 4 am??  "Yup", Laz nodded,  then went back to smoking his cigarette.  Ok.  That exchange, and another approving head nod as I finished my 80th lap were the only interactions I had with the infamous race director of the Barkley Marathons. Definitely lives up to his somewhat mysterious reputation. This was going to be interesting.

The next few hours were busy - setting up camp along the river, making sure what I needed was somewhat organized.  I would pass this spot 99 times throughout my 100 mile attempt so that provided at least a glimmer of relief.  Even as we set up, runners were already on the one mile loop, plugging away.  The sun was  hot - very hot, and that only added to my list of things to obsessively worry about. After eating and dressing in my clothes for  my run, I settled into my tent to try and sleep - time: about 8 pm and just dark.

Surprisingly, I was able to sleep pretty well, although runners continued to pass the tents set up along the  path all night.  In fact, many runners had used the heat of the day to rest, so there were probably more on the course during the night than when we first arrived.  I didn't need the alarm to wake me, and for the first time  ever, I only woke one hour before my race start!  Put me outside to sleep and I am out cold.  Happy to feel well rested, I made  my way to the race start.  No Laz now  - he was probably taking one of his power naps in a chair somewhere.  The race timer, Mike, signed me in, gave me a bib with chip and another ankle chip and had me sit in the "staging area" while the other 55 year olds assembled. There were just 6 of us, all men and me, until another  women joined who got a late start.  At 5 am we made the very short walk up the hill to the starting mats, and "GO".

And so it began.  I was strangely calm and used Coach's mantra from the start.  "Stay in the  moment."  I don't even know how many times I repeated that to myself over the course of the next 33 hours.  I tried very hard to never think of how far I had to go, or even how far I had gone.  With a one mile loop on paved concrete and blacktop, I thought this course would be my worse nightmare, but it really wasn't.  I ran at a very even 11 minute mile for the first several miles while it was cool and dark and then into the dawn of a beautiful day.  I kept running and running and felt so good.  The stars were out, the conversation was great.

I had no real "race strategy" other than to run when I could, walk when I wanted.  As the hours ticked by, and the sun heated up, I walked more and ran less.  But I never took a break.   Meals were served at intervals in the air-conditioned hall, but it took me a while to figure this out, so when I would pop in to grab  something, there wasn't a lot left.  I sent Steve on a food run at  some point, since what I did see was not really appealing - a lot of meat and rice, and cheese ball and crackers?  Not sure if this is running fare in the south but not for me. Steve took excellent care of me and made sure I had whatever sounded good to eat.

Around and around I  went, and the time passed so quickly.  A lot of runners again  came off the course during the heat of the day, but I just couldn't do it.  First, I knew we couldn't stay for the whole race, since we had to be at JMU by dinnertime on Monday,  and second, stopping really scared me!  Not sure how folks get started again after a several hour break.  I would sit in my camp chair to grab a bite to eat, or reapply sun block, but I was so itchy to get back out there.

 Around and around.  Again and again. I listened to all the stories, mostly told by men who had some great stories to tell. I  ran briefly with  the eventual women's winner(she ran 173 miles!!!!) and asked for advice or strategy and she wisely told me to run my own race - find my own rhythm that would surely be different from everyone else's.  It took her over 3 hours last year to develop a strategy.  I was told I had a nice "gait" and that "I made it look easy" which boosted my resolve, as it took me a long time to feel like I should be here with all these "real" runners!  Funny how sharing the laps broke all that down.  We were all just doing the best we could to get in the miles.  Some of the nicest, kindest people who helped at every turn.

Into the night I ran and walked, ate and body glided my feet.  I felt awesome.  At 1:30 or 2:00 am Sunday morning I decided to change out of my wet clothes into fresh running gear.  Peeling off wet clothes in a tent in the middle of the night after running for 20+ hours while trying not to make too much noise was hysterical.  I was so exhausted after that feat, I fell on the air mattress.  Steve suggested setting the alarm for 2 hours and just trying to rest so I  could go out fresh.  And I tried.  I laid there listening to the sounds of the night and breathing the air, and did doze off for about 15 minutes, but the sounds of the runners passing the tent pulled me back out.  I felt good still, so I pulled my shoes and light jacket on and took off again.  After a couple laps I left my jacket as the night air was refreshing and helped me run faster.  Each time I came around I tried to stay  quiet so  Steve could get some sleep - he had been crewing all day and I knew I would need him later in the race.  These night hours were as magical as I knew they would be.  The sounds of footfalls and quiet talking and laughing as we made our way  around and around the loop.  It wasn't long before light began to appear and the course became a  ghost town as many runners went in for breakfast.  I grabbed a granola bar and refilled my sweet tea and kept going.  By  now, I was sure I would finish and was getting anxious.  I ran for a while with the second place woman, who asked me about my marathon time and was surprised I wasn't a sub 4 hour runner!  Ha!  She told me I could be if I concentrated and trained, but I said "life" and she understood.  I enjoyed listening to her accomplishments, like how she made the 20  year old qualifying time for Boston when she was 60.  Wow.  There was some talent here.

I finally had to wake Steve around 7:30 am because my brain was getting fuzzy and I couldn't remember where anything was.  My feet had a few hot spots and I wanted to take care of that in short order.  I tried to go fast as the sun came up and it was already hot.  This part seemed to go much slower.  I only had 15 miles or so to get to 100, but each mile felt long. I ran (walked) with James for a bit and and enjoyed his conversation and pleasant nature.  He also was feeling the heat and  the miles.

I had to stop more often now to cool off, as I was cooking.  Steve took me into the icy hall once and  had me sit to just get my core temp down as my skin was hot and I was moving slowly. That felt good, as did the ice in my running bra and an icy cold towel on my head.  The loop had very minimal shade so every mile after 10 am  was  just so hot at close to 90 degrees.  The miles between 85 and 95 were the hardest for me.  I was hot, and suddenly didn't want to  eat anything.  This is when most of the folks staying for the next day went into their tents or even back to their hotels to sleep.  Not me.  I was "on a mission" and so close to the end. 

Miles 95-99 I ran/walked without stopping and mile 100 I pretty much ran again at a 12 mile pace. I knew I wouldn't go on, as my feet were just on the point of needing attention and it was the absolutely hottest part of the day.  But Steve and I did one victory lap so I wouldn't just have the 100 but 101 miles for my buckle.

 And then I was done.  And I felt amazing.  All I could think was "this really wasn't that bad!!"  And then I tried to get out of my chair and had a whole new respect for those folks who would be out there for the 22 hours left until  the race ended.    33 hours, 3rd woman to reach 100 miles, I couldn't have been happier with my race, but I still wished I was staying, if just to prolong the experience and spend more time with the amazing people I met.

 I have been trying to earn a buckle now for 4 years.  I've had training, support, coaching and family and friends who sacrificed right along with me to try and get me there.  But maybe I wasn't ready.  Maybe I needed this time to really have a reason for being out there and doing this. Maybe being in the moment is advice that I needed to actually believe.  If nothing else, the last four years have taught me this:

What worked:
s-caps every two hours
ice...lots and lots of ice
eating whatever tasted good - freezing cold especially grapes and watermelon
granola bars, english muffins, pretzels, trail mix
sweet tea - a big diluted ice cold drink every 5 miles or so and a bottle for breakfast
body glided my feet 5 times and changed shoes 4 times
aquafor...enough said
ice cold washcloth under my visor
bug spray
listening and remembering everything Coach said (and using most of it!)

What didn't work: 
music - I took it but would have hated to miss the conversation!
Hokas
sleeping
meat - so much meat there
getting in the river - I planned to do this but then snakes
changing more than once
food the last few hours
any planned run/walk ratio - just too hot to stick with it well