Endless Summer 6-Hour Run – Race Report

The Premise: Run a 4.2 mile paved loop course on the trails of Quiet Waters Park in Annapolis, MD as many times as I can in a 6 hour time period.

The Challenge: Heat. Humidity. Sweat. Sun.

I signed up for this race only a few weeks ago. I have been intrigued by the timed-event concept – run a loop as many times as possible in a set timeframe – and this race fell on a weekend I didn’t have anything planned, it was after the Mad Marathon so I was not training for anything specific, and it was within driving distance.

As the heat wave hit the mid-Atlantic region last week, I started to question whether I should attempt my first race of this kind but I gave myself permission to take my time, walk if I needed, and even drop early if it I started to struggle. I didn’t put any pressure on myself to fight it out to the end. I handle heat fairly well and the organizers were doing all they could to make sure the runners were safe – weighing us every 2 hours, pushing salt and hydration, setting up a hydration station at the half way point, and a misting station on the course. I woke up Saturday morning ready to give this race my best shot.

Unfortunately, traffic had other plans for me. I left the house with enough time to get to the race site with more than 30 minutes to spare. At 6:50 I came to stop on Route 50 due to an accident that required the entire road to be shut down, and didn’t make it the 1 mile to the next exit for another 50 minutes. The whole time I was inching down the highway, I was under 15 miles to the race…I could have run there!! I contemplated turning around and going home but I thought, what the heck, they might still let me run. After taking a detour and several backroads (thank you iPhone Google maps app), I finally got to the park around 8:10 (40 minutes late).

I quickly found an organizer and within 5 minutes of parking, I had pinned on my number, grabbed my water bottle, been weighed (came in right at 130 pounds), and was running. As I started the race, I was a mix of feelings. I was still upset about being late, thankful that I took a shot, showed up and they let me run, and anxious because I felt like I was way behind everyone else. I told myself to focus running.

The first loop was mainly about recon: The first mile or so was shaded and had one noticeable downhill and one noticeable uphill. After mile one, I hit the misting station and declined a spray from the volunteer – not yet, I said, but I’ll be back. Mile 2 was more exposed and after running by a dog park and up and down some small rollers, I came back to the that noticeable downhill from mile 1. The marker for Mile 2 was at the top and the hill was in full sun. After the hill and more sun, I hit the midpoint hydration station. I declined to fill my water bottle as it was about halfway full. The next part of the course was the toughest mentally for me. Though Mile 3 and then some, the course followed a fitness trail with exercise stops (sit-ups, pull-ups, stretching, balance beam, etc.) but other than that there wasn’t much in the way of landmarks and with each turn I was looking for the road crossing that meant I was getting close to the end of the loop. After the road crossing, the course was back in full shade and it wasn’t long before I saw the Mile 4 marker and then it was just up a hill to the start/finish/aid station (why do all races have to end on a hill?).

I hit the start/finish, heard my number called out to make sure my loop was counted, had a volunteer put ice and water in my bottle, grabbed a cookie and a handful of potato chips and headed back out on the course. My first lap, including time in the aid station, was 45 minutes. I smiled when I saw that time because it was an excellent way to start this race and I no longer felt like I was way behind everyone else.

I settled in to a routine – up and down in Mile 1, hit the misting station and have them spray the back of my neck, out in to the sun, up the hill to Mile 2, grab a cup or refill my bottle with water at the hydration station, get mentally tough through the Mile 3+ stretch, cross the road, almost there, over some wooden bridges, see Mile 4 marker, a few more turns and then up the hill to the finish.

I was running strong and steady and was curious, with the heat and still recovering from the Mad Marathon two weeks ago, how long could I continue to run the entire loop without walking. Loop 2 – 8.4 miles down – went by and I was still running. I grabbed more chips, asked for a refill of ice and water, was weighed again (130#, right where I needed to be), and was back out on the course in 44 minutes 30 seconds. Wow, just a smidge faster. Seeing my time remain steady was a definite confidence booster.

The volunteers were asking about hydration and salt every time we came in to the start/finish. I took one salt tab on the second loop and then two on each loop after. Also, I made sure my water bottle was finished by the end of the loop and even refilled it if it was more than halfway empty at the midpoint hydration station. I also grabbed whatever looked good at the aid station – today it seemed to be potato chips, pretzels, watermelon and Gatorade. I had two gels throughout the day, just because I had them with me and I felt like I should.

I started Lap 3 and told myself to be smart, if at any point you feel like walking, just walk. To my surprise, I went through Lap 3 quickly and hit the start/finish without walking, once again in 44 minutes 30 seconds. Wow, just wow. I felt strong and unstoppable. Take that 100 degree heat!

However, the day was definitely getting warmer, the few early morning clouds were gone and more of the course was in full sun now that the sun was getting higher in the sky. Starting Lap 4, I again reminded myself that it was OK to walk. I came to the long uphill in Mile 1 and decided that walking was definitely in order. For the rest of the lap, I walked the larger uphills (except the finish, I was determined to always run in to the finish) and to my surprise came out of aid station at the end of Lap 4 with a time of 44 minutes 52 seconds. Holy moly, walking wasn’t taking away any time. I ran out of the station with a huge smile on my face.

I knew I couldn’t keep it up though. By this time, between sweating and the misting station, I was soaking wet (I could literally ring the sweat out of my running skirt – eww!) It was hot but I was handling it well and kept to my hydration/salt plan. For Lap 5, I decided to play a game: each time I passed someone or someone passed me going the other direction, I had to run for 60 seconds. If I passed someone else or someone passed me going the other way, the 60 seconds started over again. This was excellent motivation. The lap seemed to fly by and before I knew it, I was back at the aid station. My time was just over 48 minutes. Even with the additional walking, I added less than 5 minutes to my lap time. Woohoo!!

When I started the race my goal was one lap per hour, so since I was late and would be running for 5 hours 15 minutes, my goal was 5 laps and a little bit. Here I was, with 1.5 hours left on the race clock, 5 laps down (20.8 miles run) and I was feeling great.

I played the same game for Lap 6 – pass or someone pass me, run for a minimum of 60 seconds, the timer starts over if I passed someone else (or sometimes I just felt like running further). By this time, there were fewer people out on the trails and I was proud of myself for still being out there and feeling great. My legs were tired, my feet were starting to hurt a bit and I looked forward to the short bits of walking more and more but I also felt like I was on top of the world.

However, when Lap 6 was almost done and I started to have a weird moment of doubt. It was hot and I started to wonder if I really wanted to be out there. Six laps. Twenty-five miles. One hundred degree heat. Those are not things to scoff at. I could stop running and feel proud. When I came in to the aid station for the final time, a volunteer asked me what I wanted in my water bottle and I’m not really sure why but I told him, I think I am done. What, you aren’t done. Look at you. You look great. Get back out there, he told me in rapid fire succession. All these were valid points. But there are hills and sun back that way, I countered. You have 30 minutes left, come on. You could at least walk for 30 minutes, he said. Alright, alright, I’ll go, I said, and the volunteers handed me a little orange flag. If I was still on the course at the end of the race, when I heard the horn, I was to plant the flag on the side of the trail and then I would get credit for the distance I covered in that partial lap.

And so, thanks to that volunteer, I headed out of the aid station one last time. I was tired and sweaty and feeling gross. I wasn’t keen on being out there but I was back out on the course so I might as well make the most of it. I ran and walked. During a walk break, a relay team (there was a relay also going on at the same time – those little buggers would blow right by us individual runners all refreshed and rested) caught up to me and told me I should run with them. Alright, I said and reluctantly started running again. We exchanged some small talk and to my surprise I actually felt better running with a group. As they talked and encouraged each other and me, it reenergized me. On the next big climb, though, one of their teammates started to fall back so they told me to go ahead.

Once I left them, the boost didn’t last too long and after hitting the misting station for a final time (my favorite people all day!) I was back to walking wondering if I could get to Mile 2 before hearing the horn. Then, they caught up with me again, and shouted, come on Becki, run. Again, reluctantly I did and again, it felt good to run. I gave myself permission to walk the hill up to the Mile 2 marker but after that I would run until I heard the horn.

And that is exactly what I did. I heard the horn somewhere between Miles 2 and 3 of my seventh lap, planted my little flag and happily started walking back to the start/finish. Unfortunately, I think I was at the point in the course that was the further away from the start/finish and ended up walking quite a ways, on a sunny road, before a volunteer came by in her car and offered me a ride. Thank goodness she did, I was starting to feel a little nauseous from the heat and sun.

I hung around for some food and gobbled up cookies, chips, veggies and a hot dog. I tried to stay until they announced the awards but I was getting tired and had an hour long drive ahead of me. Since I was soaked, I did a quick change in the car, happily put on flip-flops and headed for home.

I ended up running 27.42 miles in 5 hours 15 minutes. I am confident that if I had been able to start on time I could have completed at least 7 laps and then tacked on another mile or so. I had a great time at this race. The volunteers, organizers and aid were top-notch. The shirt and race medal are neat. The food after was yummy. All the other runners were super supportive. I would love to give this course another shot when we aren’t experiencing the heat wave of the century and I’m not late to the start. A favorite race, for sure.

Race Report: The Skyline Challenge 50K Ultra-Marathon

What am I doing here?

 

That was the thought running through my mind in the early morning hours on Saturday, July 10th. What in the world am I doing standing in the rain, before the sun has even come up, surrounded by 100 or so people, waiting for someone to shout “GO!” so that I could spend the next 8 hours running/walking/moving forward through the mountains?

 

I have been in such a funk lately that I just couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that I had actually signed up for an ultra-marathon several months ago and now I was asking my legs to go through with it even though my brain and heart just weren’t in to it. What am I doing here?

 

I won’t bury the lead here – I had a great day, a great race and I loved just about every second of this experience. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the race. My brain has been churning away faster than it ever has before considering possible future races and experiences. I keep playing back the race in my head, trying to hold on to every second of the race at once – all 8 hours and 9 minutes, all 29,340 seconds at once.

 

Even though I’m hobbling around on sore, weak post-race legs, I feel completely reenergized and strong. Sunday I couldn’t help staring at my legs in amazement at what they are capable of accomplishing.

Start to Aid Station #1

 

It had rained heavily all night but it was only just drizzling when I woke up Saturday morning. As I walked to the race start from the campground, I wasn’t sure how to feel about the rain. While it was cooling things off significantly compared to the last few days, I also wasn’t prepared to be slipping and sliding along muddy trails all day long. The drizzle continued through the pre-race announcements and the short time we waited on the dirt road for the race to start but as soon as they shouted “GO!” I forgot about the rain and didn’t take notice of when it stopped. It couldn’t have continued for more than a mile or two.

 

In fact as soon as I heard the word “GO!” and took off at a slow trot toward the trails my mind started to focused on getting to the first aid station. The aid stations were supposed to be 4-5 miles apart and I just focused on getting to the first. I’d figure out the rest once I got there.

 

According to the pre-race announcements it was 5 miles to the first aid station and afterwards we’d hit a long uphill. “You’ll hate this hill now and you’ll hate it even more when you get there” the race director told us. However, I couldn’t think past the first aid station. I knew I had to make it there and that was it.

 

The trail was muddy from the rain and there were huge puddles along the course forcing us to tiptoe around them. Also, we were still bunched up so this part of the race was a little slow. After a moderate climb we spread out a bit and I even ended up going down the wrong trail for about 5 minutes with a large group of runners before we realized we hadn’t seen pink or orange ribbons in a while. It was a bit of a “Who’s on First” routine trying to figure out which of the three trails we needed to follow but we eventually figured it out and I made it to the first aid station in tact.

 

Aid Station #1 to Aid Station #2

 

I grabbed 3 Oreos, a gel and filled my hand-held water bottle and headed back out on the course. I ate the three cookies and saved the gel for later knowing that I would probably need a boost after we hit the “hill” the race director warned us about. After the ups and downs during that first section it was hard to imagine what could be worse that would necessitate a warning from the RD.

 

This would be the shortest distance between aid stations of the day at roughly 3 miles but it involved that now infamous (at least in my imagination) incline. Even though the sun had come up, it was still overcast and the mud on the trails had not improved. We were still a bit bunched up as we all hit that steep hill, with large rocks and slippery mud. I managed to power hike my way to the top without incident but others seemed to be struggling up the muddy trail and a few even fell in to the mud.

 

Once at the top, I didn’t take time to catch my breath, happy to be able to run again. I made it to the next Aid Station faster than I expected, hitting a short (but rocky, hilly and exposed) out-and-back. Again, I grabbed a few cookies and a gel or two for the road before heading back out on the trails.

 

Aid Station #2 to Aid Station #3

 

The next part of the course was a lot of fun. We ran along the top of the mountain, hitting an overlook that would have been very nice had we not been fogged in. After a few miles of relatively flat but rocky trails, we hit the switchbacks down the other side of the mountain. It was a lot of fun to bomb the switchbacks, barely slowing for the turns, using trees to make the 180 degree turns easier. I didn’t take much notice of how long we were on this section of the trail and I should have because it would be important for the way back but I had a great deal of fun running down that mountain.

 

Coming off the switchbacks we ended up on a wider fire road with plenty of room to let loose. I cruised the flats and down hills, walked the up hills, and felt like I was in the zone.

 

The sun started to come out and at this point, I had been out on the course a little under 3 hours 30 minutes. It was starting to warm up but the trees were providing a nice shade and I welcomed the opportunity to dry out a little bit.

 

I had been aiming to hit each of the aid stations in 1 hour 15 minutes or less and I was on target. I felt surprisingly good considering I had run nearly 15 miles on hilly, rocky terrain.

 

I made it to Aid Station #3, refilled my water bottle, grabbed some pretzels, cookies and gummy bears and some salt tablets and headed down the road.

 

Aid Station #3 to Aid Station #4

 

There was a small bit of road running after leaving aid station #3 but I didn’t mind it before we hit a wide gravel trail with some rolling ups and downs. I also finally saw the lead runners coming back and got my first taste of just how supportive and friendly ultra-runners can be. Every single runner who passed me going the other direction had a smile and words of encouragement. I’ve cheered on faster runners in plenty of road races but never once have the lead runners broken focus in order to tell me “good job” or “keep it up” or “looking strong.” It was an awesome show of support.

 

Nearly to Aid Station #4, we headed up a long, winding hill. I walked most of it but it felt great knowing I was so close to the turn around point.

 

As I came up to the top of the hill, I realized I had only seen 7 or 8 woman coming back the other direction, meaning I was in the top ten (now, there were only about 100 runners I would guess and only a quarter of those runners were women but still…top ten!!). I breezed through the aid station, grabbed some goodies and gels and headed back down the hill.

 

Aid Station #4 to Aid Station #5

 

I felt GREAT. I was flying.

 

I hooked up with another runner going down the hill who was from Northern VA and we started talking about ultras and running in DC, etc. He was amazed that this was my first ultra and that I was looking so good. It was fun to have someone else to talk to and it must have shown because everyone commented on how much fun we were having as we passed.

 

Then, I realized we hadn’t passed anyone for a while. Then, I realized we hadn’t seen an orange or pink ribbon in a while. Then, I realized that we were running on a road, not a trail and had been for some time. Then, full realization set it…we had missed a turn (it wasn’t just me and my new friend, there were 5 of us strung out along the road) and were not on the course. We headed back the way we came and I took off. I didn’t really care that we were lost or that I had run two extra miles. I just wanted to get back to the course because I had something to prove to myself now.

 

I’d be lying if I said getting lost and running extra miles didn’t knock the wind out of my sails a bit but I was still having a good time. I was also happy to be back on track.

 

Aid Station #5 to Aid Station #6

 

As we back-tracked along the course, it didn’t occur to me what I had to face. As I quickly made my way through the fifth aid station, refilling and restocking, I was just focused on the task at hand. We got back on the wide jeep road and before too long we were back in the woods and headed toward the switchbacks.

 

Oh crap! The switchbacks.

 

As I headed up the mountain, I kept telling myself that the run down didn’t seem that long so the hike up couldn’t be that brutal. But I just kept climbing up and up. By this time, no one was around me. I couldn’t see anyone head of me or anyone climbing up. For 30 minutes of steady power hiking, I just followed the trail from orange or pink ribbon to orange or pink ribbon. I started questioning the situation and myself. What if I was supposed to turn off somewhere and this was only supposed to be for the climb down? Where is everyone else? What am I doing out here? When will this end? God, my legs are killing me! This is supposed to be a running race, not a hiking race. Argh! I will even admit to mumbling expletives as I hiked up the never-ending mountain.

 

I still wasn’t any close to the top but after 30 minutes I saw a group of runners slowly gaining on me. I was so excited to see another human being that I didn’t even care that they were coming up so fast it looked like I was standing still.

 

Fifteen minutes later – after 45 minutes (I’m guess-timating) of walking up a mountain – I finally made it to the top. The group behind me soon passed me but I took off running after them. It wasn’t easy, or fast, my legs were officially shot after that long climb.

 

However, I was eager to get to the next (and last!) aid station. As I left the last aid station, #5, I heard someone say that we were at mile 22 so I was trying to do the math and figure how much more running we’d have to do after the #6.

 

As I finished the trail and headed back down and back up the gully to get to the final aid station (what was aid station #2 also) I heard someone as they ran by me going the other direction – “once you get to the aid station, it’s only four miles to the finish.”

 

I have never, ever wanted to see an aid station as much as I wanted to see this one. I knew that the worst of the course was over and I knew I would finish. I was quick to grab my goodies and refill my water (I took a swig of soda because I was intrigued that they were offering it at all the aid stations. Blech! Last thing in the world I wanted while running). I was out of there and on my way to the finish.

 

Aid Station #6 to Finish

 

I kept an eye on the one woman in front of me the whole way to the finish. I didn’t have the energy left to pass her but I knew that if I kept her in sight I would be able to keep a decent pace.

 

The sharp climb up the mountain really zapped my energy and fried my legs. It actually felt better to run than to walk but I wasn’t able to run any of the steep down hills any longer. My quads were shot and didn’t have the strength to hold my knee in place on the left leg so it started to hurt on the down hills. It wasn’t terrible pain and it went away as soon as I was able to run on level ground or walk up hill. (I even started to wish for up hills while I was stumbling back down the “hill” from the beginning of the course, which thankfully had dried out by this time. I wasn’t looking forward to sliding down the mud on that one).

 

And before I knew it, I was on the dirt road headed back toward the campground and the finish line. Cars were passing me and the drivers would wave and shout encouragement (much faster runners than me headed home, I can’t blame them). I saw the lake, I made the last turn and I headed for the finish line as fast as I could, which was surprisingly fast considering all I had been through.

 

I felt no pain. I felt no fatigue. I just felt elated.

 

Someone near the finish line spotted me and started shouting and cheering. She was pretty impressed with my finishing sprint and said so. I turned in to the grass and down the finish chute…and then I was done. I finished my first ultra. I ran 31 miles. I ran MORE than 31 miles since I got lost! I did it in 8 hours and 9 minutes. Right on target.

 

It was the absolute toughest thing I’ve ever had to do but it is definitely something I would do tomorrow if I could.

 

 

Me after finishing the race

 

The course profile - Mountains! 

 

Pros:

• First ultra-marathon experience couldn’t be beat
• Challenging – I’m so proud I was able to finish
• Nice performance shirt
• Awesome food at the end and I nice low-key picnic feel

Cons:

• I got nothing – it was great!

 

So I did something…I did it a few months ago but I’ve been hesitant to tell too many people. I was waiting to see how I did running the marathon (well, what turned out to be two marathons) but I’m not even sure why. It is not like running poorly in the marathon was going to make this thing go away.

Well, what did I do? I signed up for my first ultramarathon. On July 11, I’ll be tackling the Skyline Challenge in the mountains of Virginia. It is a 50K (31 miles) of trails, out-and-back.

Ever since I signed up I have been at times excited, doubtful and scared, and some times even all three.

Since I just ran two marathons, I am going to use the endurance I’ve already gained and try to simply maintain my fitness through July in order to survive and finish the ultra. I am found several sources that says that running a 50K a month or two after a marathon is actually a great way to train so that is encouraging. My plan is to continue recovering from the marathon and slowly build up my weekly mileage back to the level I was running before Nashville.

At the same time, I am going to be doing something slightly different for the weekend long runs. Rather than focus on hitting a certain mileage I’ll run/walk with my focus on time on my feet and trying different foods to see how my stomach handles running and eating (this I am not worried about). I am taking the advice of most experienced ultra runners and will be walking up every hill no matter how small and when I can run, doing a 5 minute run/1 minute walk ratio. I’ll be practicing this on the weekends as well.

The other thing I am doing to prepare that is different from marathon training is walking. I’ll be hitting the gym during the work week for practice walking up hills and strengthening those muscles.

It’s funny, as I’ve been telling more and more people my doubt has been slipping away. I’m still exciting and scared but in a good way. I am starting to believe that I’ll finish it but I’m still scared that it is going to chew me up and then spit me back out.

Daily Dozen:
Walking – treadmill hill workout @ lunch hour