Can Lake 50's Race Report Part Two: Race Day

Can Lake 50's
October 12, 2013

I awoke on race morning at 4:30, brewed a cup of hotel coffee, and got to work preparing to run 50 miles (eek!). I managed to settle my nerves just enough to choke down a banana and a tablespoon of almond butter. Then I worked through the mental check list I tossed and turned over all night: tape shins, body glide the high-risk chafe spots, get dressed, obsessively unpack and repack Camelbak to make sure I didn't forget anything, write mantra on inner arm with Sharpie (I also paint my nails black for significant races, it reminds me that I'm a badass during the low points when I forget!), sip water throughout.

My Sharpie'ed Mantra (taken from a race earlier in the summer)

 

The race allows a pacer for the last fifteen miles. The choice was simple; my very dear friend K has an uplifting spirit and is made of positive energy. I knew she would be the one I needed to keep me moving forward and help me overcome obstacles in the late miles of the race. Bonus: her husband G thinks like I do. He's a Type A personality, very organized and detail-focused. During race week, when he returned my race plan to me in spreadsheet form, I relaxed a little and knew he would be exactly where, when, and with what I needed.

I packed up my mid-race snacks, a bag of various meds, a full change of clothes (including shoes) and whatever other random supplies I though I might need (massaging stick, duct tape!) into plastic bin for G. Then Hubby drove me over to the race start.

 

Anxiety-filled pre-race waiting!

I elected to take a one hour early start because the course was set to close 12 hours after the official start and I figured I would need that extra time. The temperature at the start was in the forties but I was comfortable in a tank, arm sleeves, gloves, shorts and calf sleeves. We set out at 6 am, following a bike who lead us through the city. It was still dark then so I was fortunate to be able to watch the sun rise over the lake. Beautiful! I began a conservative run/walk pattern of nine minutes to one minute as soon as I settled in on the course.

Starting before sunrise allowed me to finish before dusk!

The scenery on this course is stunning. The leaves at this time were near peak and the air smelled like Autumn. The temperature stayed cool, cold at times, for my first two hours. The first major climb was at ten miles in. Just as I looked up the turning incline of Coye Road, I received a text from Hubby. He, K & G, and Little One were on their way! What perfect timing it was to have my support system make their first contact with me just as the run became challenging.



Best! Crew! Ever!
Hubby, G and K
Photography by Little One

They arrived after the turn on to Seneca Point. I dropped off my accumulated garbage and unneeded gear (gloves, arm warmers, headlamp) and picked up some more food. After a few quick hugs I was running again. Seneca Point Road is a very steep downhill, much steeper than I had trained on. I knew I was trashing my quads with every heavy, shocking step but there was little I could do beyond moving in to the softer shoulder.

After that came Bopple Hill. Locally famous, Bopple climbs at an average grade of 6.3% over 1.75 miles. I had never seen it but figured I'd know it when I got there. I posted on Facebook "So this is Bopple Hill." The responses were amusing and a much needed mental break during the long, calf-burning climb. Then I chatted a little with a resident out walking his dog. For the first time that morning, I did not focus on how many miles were left and enjoyed the moment.

After Bopple was behind me I snapped this pic of grape vines.
I love how running heightens my sense of smell.
The smell of these made me consider climbing down and grabbing a few handfuls!

 

The 50 km start was about three miles past Bopple and I arrived less than two minutes before they lined up to begin their journey. They cheered as runners passed and it was invigorating to see a crowd of amped up athletes after spending so much time alone and quiet. Within a few minutes the leaders began passing me. The road was very crowded then and I was thankful to hit a planned aid station stop only 1.5 miles after the 50 km start. Most of the field passed while my Camelbak was being filled. I applied some Cryoderm to my thoroughly whipped quads, got some hugs from my crew and set off again. I had planned ahead of time to take a longer break at an aid station 28 miles in where there would be bathrooms and an opportunity to change clothing if needed. At this point I was near the southern tip of the lake with 30 miles to go.

I don't remember much of the next 8 miles. I do remember that they sucked (sorry, no better way to describe it). Maybe I needed more sugar or maybe I had gone out too fast (probably both). My quads talked back with every stride. I became discouraged and depressed and started planning my drop out at mile 28. A couple cyclists passed by me and one shouted out "good job, purple!" I knew she was talking to me, my pack is purple and population was pretty scarce at the time. Then she turned and looked at me and we recognized each other. I had only met her a couple times and needed to be reminded of her name. She said I looked great to which I replied I don't feel so great and that I was in an ugly place. She pointed out that I was smiling and therefore was just fine... and the miracle was I believed her! She circled back once and cheered for me again then road on. After that I passed the 26.2 mile mark. G cycled out to find me but I explained to him I had to gut this last section out and sent him back to the aid station. The slump wasn't over - I was still very sore, exhausted and hungry - but I looked forward to getting over the hurdle and on with my race.

Post-Slump scenery, when my head and heart were back in the race!

At mile 28 I met up with the crew again. I explained that I needed an attitude adjustment and not to push me along as we previously planned. I changed my clothes head to toe, even shoes. I washed my face and rinsed out my contacts. This became a symbolic "starting over" point. I hung out a little bit indoors and drank a ginger ale while watching Little One play basketball. I admit I whined a little to procure some more encouragement from my team! ;-)

Knowing that I would pick up K as a pacer in only 7 miles was a boost to my spirit. The sugar from the ginger ale certainly helped too!The third major climb began right out of the aid station, so I had a good walk break to settle myself back in to the race. I met up with my crew again at mile 32 and started a 3 mile out and back along the east side of the lake. Since the turn at the southern tip, I did not recall seeing the lake; the course follows mostly rural roads away from the lake for this part of the race. Just as I began this segment I ran in to a friend who was crewing for another runner. I was so very excited to see another familiar face. I hugged her and chatted a bit and left more determined than ever. During the return portion, I passed by another friend (this one running) and exchanged a hug. She was an enormous influence in getting me to the start and believed in me every step of my training. I walked most of the back portion, as it was a long, gradual uphill and finally picked up K. My mood peaked at elation then.

We set off and immediately hit the fourth and last major climb. I was excited to run with K but frustrated at the topography. We tried a couple times to run the flatter sections a bit but the hill went on for over 2.5 miles. I later called this my angry phase, when I realized we had been walking since the aid station. I swore a bit; I believe K apologized to some spectators on my behalf! After what felt like scaling a wall for few hundred feet, it was finally over and I attempted to settle back in to my run walk pattern.

This was somewhere between 40 and 42 miles.

By this time my quads were cramping, so the walking segments got a little longer and even the small rolling hills were too much to run. K told me some stories and made me laugh. I tried to eat and drink but I knew my stomach wanted nothing to do with it. I never felt sick but definitely did not hydrate or eat enough in the last 15 miles. I started to feel stupid and unaware of the traffic and definitely relied on K for my safety. I eagerly watched for each descending mile marker. I was even surprised a couple times to find a number lower than I was expecting! We entered the campus and I remember approaching the start area. Then the enormity of the accomplishment hit me. I had no tears to cry so I laughed instead. Then the finish banner came in to view - a big blue Fleet Feet finish line I've crossed under so many times.

I finished in 11 hours and 53 minutes. Little One handed me a bouquet of wild flowers and the relief of being done settled over me.

The finish line I thought I'd NEVER EVER see!

I still cannot believe that I finished this race - it doesn't feel real. I'm not sure if I'll ever run this or any ultra-marathon again (I have some triathlon goals to work though before I try to push the distance barrier!) and I am completely satisfied with the experience. It was super well organized with patient and helpful volunteers, a beautiful course and very friendly to first time ultra-runners. I am highly recommending this to all aspiring ultra-marathoners!