Scott Jurek wrote about a race that I hoped to take on one
day and I finally had the chance. The Voyageur 50 mile ultramarathon was this
race. Fifty miles, out and back course from Carlton to Duluth, Minnesota. I
read about this course as being rough, rugged, historical, and the epitome of
what ultra courses should be so there was no chance in Hell I was going to pass
up the opportunity for this experience. Timing wasn't fabulous; two weeks prior
I ran another ultra that totally owned me. That course was awesome as well, but
I just didn't have it in me for a multitude of reasons. I spent a few days
following that ultra disaster and ripped about the day-examining factors that I
could change, and acknowledging factors that were out of my hands. I determined
that there were a few modifications that I had made in my prep for the previous
ultra that did not work out in my favor. Primarily, my nutrition was way out of
whack. I had cut carbs significantly about a month prior, trying to determine
if I really needed them as much as I had depended out them for triathlon in
ultrarunning. I noticed that when I eliminated most processed carbs from my
diet, I felt better and was leaner. Who wouldn't call that a win? However,
looking back, I do recall that the longer, more demanding training runs were
less than stellar and can now recognize the culprit. I need carbs-maybe not as
much as I used to each in tri (lived on cereal, whole wheat breads, etc.). That
really doesn't shock me considering I typically put in two-a-days for most days
of the week but it was a definite trial and error.
Leading up to the Voyageur 50 miler, I decided to go back to
my roots and indulge in about 40% more carbohydrates that I had previously been
consuming. However, I did ensure that most of these carbs were early in the
day-allowing me to use them as fuel and not stored as fat. I swell up a bit
when I consume carbs, I can't figure that on out, but it's all good. The two
weeks between the previous ultra and Voyageur didn't give me a lot of time to examine
much else, but I've learned it's much more beneficial to modify one training
element at a time to accurately measure its effect, eliminating other
variables. Two weeks also didn't allow me to put in the miles that I wanted to
as within a week, I had to start my mileage taper. Again, HATE THIS. On top of
low mileage and dietary changes, life was more stressful as usual which really
messed with my head. My therapy (running) was restricted and my dietary changes
definitely took a toll on my body as well. However, dreams of running the same
course as Jurek, in my home state, kept me focused and kept me semi-sane.
I took on the Voyageur expedition solo. I had mixed feelings
about this. Part of me thought I was going to be lonely as hell; another part
longed for some quality time to myself away from distracts and free the typical
BS that the norms of life present. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I found a
resort and goggled some sights that I wanted to check out to keep me focused
and my mind occupied. I jetted up to Minnesota Friday morning and it was an
amazing drive. I called a few friends that I haven't chatted with in awhile and
before I knew it I was laughing my ass off, rocking out to my iTunes with the
windows down and sunroof open. I'm pretty sure I smiled the whole way and loved
every minute of the 6+ hour drive. I arrived early, as usual, for packet
pick-up in Carlton so I decided to trek on to Duluth to get checked in to my
hotel and screw around for a bit. I was in awe of Duluth and Lake Superior and
the beauty that consumed it. I checked out the University planetarium,
aquarium, and downtown all before heading back to Carlton to get my packet/swag
bag. For the record, I would move to Duluth in a minute..love that place. And I
will definitely return to check out the nightlife, see some potential for pure
awesomeness there. After getting my gear in Carlton, I met some awesome fellow
runners and spent some time talking about the course, strategies, tips, and
post-race plans. I loved it; they were awesome (even ran into a few fellow
Ironm(e)n). Back to Duluth I headed-knocked out a killer supper with a local
IPA, chilled in the hot tub, and geared up for race.
Race morning was spectacular. It was warm already and racers
were already joking about the predicted temps in the mid-90's. Funny enough,
Sunday's weather predictions were in the 60's. Go figure. My mindset was
uncharacteristic. I told myself going into this race that I didn't want to kill
myself in competition and miss out on the unique beauty and majesty of the
course. I was relaxed and felt no pressure whatsoever. It was invigorating and
welcomed, a pleasure that I'm not accustomed to race day.
It was awesome talking to the other runners, checking out
everyone's gear strategies and shoes (I love shoes), and listening to the
adrenaline-filled conversation fueled my nerves and excitement. It was good to
see a few people I knew as well. We all lined up at the start, cued our GPS
watches, and took off.
The beginning of the course was on a paved bike trail. This
was ideal to get the nerves out, jockey for position, and warm up. I was blown
away to see a dude running barefoot. Rock on you maniac! Before I knew it, a
sharp corner took us into a filling, technical single track full of rooty,
rocky crossings and a few traverses over some rocks that demanded minimal
mountaineering skills. Running some of this was impossible. The sound of the
river crashing over the rocks next to us was something I will never forget. I
felt like I was in Colorado next to growing rapids and it was indescribable.
The pack stayed pretty tight for the first several miles. Crossing over the
swinging bridge was a little challenging but our spirits were high as we were
welcomed by a cheering crowd and aid station. The aid was killer. I opted to
only use my 9 oz handheld due to the
proximity of the aid stations and that worked out well for me. They were
stocked too, it's like they took my order and presented it to the
"T". My 'go to' foods were there-raw potato and salt, watermelon and
other fruits, and a grocery list of other goodies. The volunteers rocked;
joking around with us and immediately taking our handhelds for refills before I
could even ask. Midway in, I was second place female and the volunteers kept me
posted on how far ahead she was. Honestly, I didn’t care-winning was not a goal
for that day.
A group of us ran together and enjoyed the course and
conversation. Mid-chatting--SMACK--I wiped out, face planting on the cross
country ski course. I got up, laughed and joked about how graceful it was and
pressed on. This was not to be my last fall of the day. Looking back, I'm
blaming new shoes..
Ten+ miles in we hit the power line section. Holy hell, I
have never run hills like that. And it was hot, mid 80's with no shade. I was
happy with my performance on those beastly MN mountains, but cursed them all
the same. The rumors are true, don’t underestimate your hill work if you plan
to take those bad boys on. Pressing on we ran through a lot of hilly
single-track, several creek crossings, a few rock climbing demands, a ski
slope, and a few open areas. My pace was pretty decent for that course for
quite some time; even through in a few sub-8's. Then it happened..Mile 23ish..I
was running down a rocky section when I took another fall-but this one set the
stage for the rest of the race. Before I knew it I hit the rocks hard-headfirst
on one the size of a watermelon (but with less give) and slide several feet
over the rocky trail. Immediately I lost my hearing and sight on the right side,
felt like my jaw was hit by a baseball bat, got the wind knocked out me and
felt like a f*cking elephant was sitting on my ribs, and banged up my quad,
shoulder, elbow, hands, and right knee. I looked like hell. Mud and blood
covered my body. Another runner was more freaked out than I was and before I
could really catch my breath, he told me to stay down and he was getting a
medic. I don’t blame him for bailing, there was nothing he could have done. I
stood up to help my breathing as blood dripped down my arm. Other racers
immediately approached me but I couldn't hear what they were saying, all I
could hear was this damn horrible ringing in my ear. After some time of leaning
against the free I decided I would continue on to the turnaround point, mile 25,
for medical since I thought the course was too congested for them to come to
me. I walked almost the entire way down the hill until I saw aid; then I
jogged. I freaked out several volunteers who immediately helped me clean up and
wiped off the blood. This hurt like hell as I was sweating from the 90+ degree
heat and salt poured into the open wounds. Everything hurt. I took a little
medical help for a few minutes and did a self assessment, head to toe. What I
discovered changed my mind about my post-fall plan. Yes, I was hurting; yes, I
looked like I was hit by a bus..But, I was able to make it over a mile and a
half to aid and even jogged. The wounds were superficial and the injuries
(quad, head, ribs) didn't necessary stop me from movement. Actually, moving
felt better. I could finish this race. I wasn't going to be pretty, but it
could be done and I am NOT a quitter. Death before DNF.
I downed some nutrition, thanked the volunteers, and turned
towards the course. They were stunned and a couple argued my sanity. I had no
argument. I told them that I would stop for assessments at each aid station and
determine my status there. Immediately they radioed the other stations and told
them the status of runner "245". At first, running was not an option.
I discovered that the more I got my heart rate up, the faster my blood pumped,
and the louder the ringing in my eyes was. My head throbbed a bit more then and
my vision waivered. Eventually I found an easy pace that allowed my pulse to
slow. The hills challenged me and I didn't push it. #gimpclimbinghills
I felt like celebrity at the aid stations. Everyone was
expecting me. After the first couple, I realized that they were asking me about
the same questions. "Do you know your name?" "What are you doing
today?" "Where are you from?" I rehearsed the answers to these
questions as approached each station, to be sure. I felt somewhat better and
even found comedy in the situation and threw out a "Roseanne Barr"
when asked for my name. He didn't find it as funny as I did.
The other runners were amazing; lots of encouragement,
high-fives, and marvels at my 'badassness'. This drove me forward; I am forever
grateful for that. Mile 49 welcomed me with the same ole bike trail trail that
I kicked off the day on over 10 hours ago. I jogged comfortably..until….a
female and her husband passed me. This had occurred on and off for the day and
I didn't care but for some reason, this bothered me. I quick self checked
resulted in me determining that I was holding back. What the f*ck was I holding
back for?!? I had no answer to this and I was pissed. I continued to run behind
them, thinking about the day, the course, Jurek, and my accomplishment thus far.
Did I have anything left? Before I knew it, I noticed my pace increased and
their lead was starting to shorten. Somehow, from somewhere, I tapped into a
little speed. Nothing hurt at this point. All I remember is how thirsty I was
and how that finish line was going to be my saving grace. 400 meters out and it
was very clear to the couple that I was challenging them. The female cursed
outloud when we had 100 yards to go and I made my move; passing them. Her
husband said "let her go..". I assumed that she would listen, but
wasn't banking on it (hell, I wouldn't have) so I dug deep and gave it all I
got to cross the line. I finished 6th place overall female and the crowd
solidified the achievement. It was amazing. High-fives, fist bumps, and a
couple hugs after I crossed the line for the final kick were soon overpowered
by concern and medical assessments. The pain returned as I sat down, but it was
the best pain ever. I could have quit at mile 23; arguably I probably should
have. But I didn't; I took on 27 more miles of hills, heat, and pain and I have
no regrets. I needed that accomplishment more than I realized. Post-race shower
(OUCH!!), medical attention, meal and beers with racers was my victory lap. No,
I didn't win it. There were 5 other amazing girls in front of me, but it was a
victory in its own right.
The Voyageur 50 is the most challenging, beautiful course
that I have experience to date and I plan to return as long as I am physically
capable. Who knows, maybe Jurek will return one day and I can meet the master
himself.
I learned a couple days after the race that I broke a rib.
I'm not surprised but it isn't a bad break, minor fracture-the pain has
decreased from a sharp pain during deep breaths to an annoyance. Sadly enough,
I had a similar injury from college basketball on the other side of my body so
the pain is familiar. I guess I'm all evened out now. Balance is important in
life.
I still look like crap and am a bit sore, but--very
recently--started to feel like myself again. As before, I chose to take away
positivity from this experience. The mind/human desire is far more powerful than
we give it credit. Pain comes and goes at all levels, but it's up to us on how
we handle it. Focusing on the pain, disappointments, and setbacks restrict
advancement in every realm of our lives. It's extremely easy to be overcome by
this and it can lead to regrettable life decisions and anger. Looking past the
pain doesn’t mean that we should ignore it, avoid it, or minimize it..it just
encourages us to find the victories in life and amazing gifts that we all have
before us. After we acknowledge these gifts, it's easier to take on the pain.
No comments:
Post a Comment