It's All About The Patch

"When you want something, all the universe conspires to help you achieve it."
- The Alchemist

OK, it's been a bit over a week since the Green Lakes 100K so I guess it's time to put my thoughts together and analyze what this run really was for me. First of all, this was my first ever 100K race. I have numerous times run this distance and further, but this was actually the first time that I covered this distance knowing that 62 miles was to be the end point. It was kinda cool knowing that I have gone this distance before, feeling good throughout, so I should be able to complete the distance without too much of a problem. But there are no guarantees with ultrarunning; I also knew that this particular race would be a huge mental game for me. The course is a 7.7-ish mile loop, repeated eight times. Loop courses are always difficult for me because when the going gets tough, it's way too easy to say I can't go on. So knowing this, I was prepared for the mind games, and had already mentally prepared for loops 5, 6, and 7 to be the challenge.

So here's skinny on how the race went down . . .

- 41 starters toed the line for the 6am start. It was a cool morning but the forecast was ominous with a prediction of sun and temps in the high 80s to 90s. Hydration and electrolyte replacement were going to be crucial to survival.

- Loop 1: 1:19:09. Time to savor the cool dawn sky. My plan was to try to maintain 1:30 loops. Despite my time on this loop I did run conservatively and felt very at ease and didn't feel like I pushed to get under 1:30.

- Loop 2: 1:24:05. The sun started to come out but the temp was still comfortable. Took a little extra time getting some eats and refilling my bottle. Still felt at ease here.

- Loop 3: 1:33:17. Here come the 50K-ers. Nice to see more people out on the course and the speed of the front-runners. It was warming up at this point but I was still feeling good and taking in enough fluids to prep for the coming heat.

- Loop 4: 1:42.26. Hot now! I really tried to get some solid foods into me but the heat was already taking its toll and I just couldn't stomach anything solid. Thank goodness for the protein-carbo mix of Accelerade. It really kept me fuelled. However, I started to get this weird hot-spot feeling in the middle of my left foot which seemed to initially get better with a sock change. Never had that before.

- Loop 5: 1:50:48. OK, something's gotta give with this foot issue! At the lap area where all my med supplies were, I sat down, dried my foot, didn't see any blistering but noticed an area that could easily turn into a blister. Slapped on a piece of moleskin, got the sock and shoe back on, and felt instantly better. Now I only hoped that this would hold. The heat was also becoming more oppressive, so at the suggestion of Jill Perry who was working the aid area, I put a bandana filled with ice around my neck. Who knew how good this could feel? Amazing! I didn't think I would be able to tolerate the bandana on my neck, but the relief it brought to me was so amazing that I didn't even notice having it around my neck. This turned out to be a definite life-saver.

- Loop 6: 1:49:45. Walking a bit more now but still feeling in good spirits. Looking at the time I still felt that I was doing OK to make the cut-off (which was that you had to complete loop 7 by 12 hours). But mentally I was having issue with the I have to do this TWO MORE TIMES!

- Loop 7: 2:18:06. OK, now things were getting really mental. Not only did I wonder if I would be able to make that 12 hour cut-off but I was wondering if I really wanted to make it. By the time I hit the 3rd aid station, which was being manned by my friend Sam Pasceri and his family, I was near breaking down. I went into the station thanking Sam for all he did for all of us today and told him that I was done; I wasn't going to make the cut-off. Sam sat me down, fixed me another ice bandana, dosed me up with some Mountain Dew and a grilled cheese sandwich piece, and basically gave me a kick in the ass. He told me "It's all about the patch". The patch was the award for finishing and it was all about finishing, not about time, not about place. He told me that so many had dropped because of the heat. Finishing was about overcoming. Even his young son, Dominic, told me that all I had to do was 15-minute miles to make the cut-off. Those two were just so infectious and up-beat, how could I give up? I left his station telling him that I would see him again and tried running a little.

OK, so the run and the optimism lasted about 100 meters. What the hell? I couldn't do it. So I walked and thought about how I would break it to Sam that I just didn't make the cut-off . . . it wouldn't be my fault then that I didn't go on; it would be out of my hands.

And then I came into The Beach area, walking and looking at my watch. Damn! I still had more than 5 minutes to make the cut-off. And then I saw my grandkid cheering squad of Kaitlin, Cara, and Clare! Kaitlin told me that I could do it. Cara distracted me with talk about their day. I asked Clare if I should go out for the last loop and she told me no. I asked her why not and she told me that I might get hurt. Sounded reasonable. I came across the mat with less than 3 minutes to the cut-off, ready to call it quits. But my ever-loving honey, Joe, had other thoughts. He got permission from the race officials to go out with me, not to pace me but more to make sure that I got around safely - likely because my loop 7 time was so pitiful and everyone expected that loop 8 would be much longer. So I downed a 5-Hour Energy with caffeine and we left the area walking.

- Loop 8: 1:45:01. And then it happened. Somewhere around 40 minutes into the loop that 5-Hour Energy kicked in. I still couldn't stomach anything solid, but I was drinking and peeing and still moving. And then I was running (ok . . . it's all relative!) again. It was getting dusky out and the deer were coming out. We were alone up on The Serengeti and it was beautiful. And then we hit Sam's station. I was so psyched to see him and Dominic and Ginny again and the energy just kept coming. It was time to finish this puppy off.

Heading back down to the lower loop I started to get a bit queasy so I slowed the pace a bit, but once we hit the lower portion of the course I was back. And running . . . actually running. And I crossed the line in 13:42:40 . . . didn't fall once, still felt good and alert, moleskin on my foot intact, and oh-so-dirty-and-stinky! And I won the Female Masters RRCA Champ category (OK, so I was the only female masters that finished, but whatever!).

I was the last finisher but I have to say that this was a very cool place to be. Did you know that the cheers you receive as last finisher are probably just as loud as those for the first?! Very cool indeed. 18 people dropped from this race, so finishing to me, even last, was huge.

Once the going got really tough, I kept telling myself that I didn't need to suffer, that this race was a training run for the upcoming Virgil Crest 100, that any distance I completed would be a good training run. But finishing . . . I am so glad that I did . . . this gave me a huge confidence boost that I was able to overcome something so hard. Thank you to my cheering squad, to Joe and Sam and Ginny and the kids for the much-need ass-kickings, and to all of the volunteers who took care of us on this brutal day! These runs are never a one-person victory.

OK . . . kill the heat! I want a cool Fall day! And in less than three weeks there better be one . . . but if not, I feel more confident now that I can take it on. Cowgirl Up! Team Honey will take on VC100 next!

Getting Younger With Every Mile

It all started in February 2010 . . . The Beast Of Burden. What a name . . . what a challenge. The winter version was huge fun for me as I ran in the 24-hour race and Joe supported me along the way. Joe has always supported me in my craziness of running long distances. Thank goodness that the BOB race director, Sam Pasceri, decided to bring The Beast to another season . . . the heat of the summer. And thank goodness I had absolutely no desire to run in the open sun and heat and humidity along the Erie Canal towpath. So not my thing. So this opened up a whole new opportunity.

Joe’s longest run ever has been 35.75 miles, which he ran at the BPAC 6-hour Distance Classic a couple of years ago. Since then he has run some 50Ks, but nothing longer. The Summer Beast Of Burden 24-hour event would give him the chance to see just how far he could go; a chance to challenge his limits. And it would give me the chance to give back to him for all of the times that he has been up all night long supporting me. I would now get the chance to be crew and pacer all in one and experience what he and others so generously do for me.

A 24-hour race is a different animal. It’s a combination of things; it’s not just who can run the fastest but who can play the game the smartest to endure. Yes, speed is a factor but if you don’t take care of yourself with proper fuelling and clothing choices, the game can end early. Some plan to run a certain distance and that’s that, finishing whenever they do within the 24-hour period. Some run the entire 24 hours to see how many miles they can log in that period of time. Joe opted for the first, choosing the number 66 miles; a mile for each year of his life. A challenge, in deed, but very doable, I was sure. All he had to do was to keep moving at a consistent 2.5 miles per hour for the 24 hours and he would be fine. Of course, I was sure that he could get ‘er done well before the 24 hours were up. So training started; we worked on the miles but more so we worked on the eating and hydration aspects that would keep him going for the long haul. This has always been one of Joe’s downfalls in the long run – making sure he stays fuelled. But we found a solution and I have just two words to say – TAPIOCA PUDDING. Believe it, there is nothing better than ice cold tapioca pudding that just slides down and digests easily when your body just doesn’t want to even do the work of chewing and swallowing. And we went through quite a bit of it last weekend.

So here’s the run-down of how the day (and night) went:

- Saturday: cool, overcast morning. We set up our canopy with chair and cot for resting when the work was done and a cooler with our special fuels.

- At 10AM the runners were off. My first feeling was that of relaxation because I wasn’t running, then big-time nerves set-in, hoping that Joe was doing what he was supposed to do. It was out of my hands; all I could do was wait.

- Seeing Joe, approximately 2 miles into the run, on the other side of the Erie Canal, running with others and talking. I hoped that he was not going outside of his comfort zone.

- Got our “transition zone” in Lockport set-up with Joe’s clothes, food, and drink, and then headed off to Middleport (the turn-around point) at 12.5 miles. I knew I was well ahead of the time he would get out there, but I didn’t know what else to do with myself other than go and wait for him and run through my mind if I had everything in the proper places for him.

- I had hoped that Joe would take about 3 hours to relaxingly get out to Middleport on that first trip and was a bit concerned when he arrived under 2 hours, 30 minutes. He assured me that he felt fine and that the overcast weather helped him to get there faster. I refilled his bottles and got him to eat a bit and he was off again. Did he eat enough? Should I have done something else for him? Did I do everything that I was supposed to do? Man, I think that actually running in the race is easier!

- Watched some others runners come through and then couldn’t stand it any longer, so I headed off to the grocery store to grab a few things for my lunch, more ice, and a bit more Gatorade for Joe. Back to Lockport to eat lunch and talk with friends while I hoped that Joe had slowed the pace a bit.

- Watching my watch and anticipating about when Joe might arrive at 25 miles, I got my clothes changed to my running gear to prepare to jump into my alter ego as pacer.

- Joe arrived in Lockport looking good and running with a couple of other guys, which he really seemed to enjoy their company and didn’t seem to be getting “pulled into their pace”. So we all grabbed some food and posed for photos and prepared to head out for the second loop. Spirits seemed very good in all three guys.

- We ran Joe’s pace, running at times, walking at times. It was all good as long as we were moving forward - and we were. What started off on this loop as me, Joe, Joe, and Jim was soon down to me, Joe, and Jim, and then as nature called as well as the need to loosen shoelaces on swollen feet, Jim moved on and it was just Joe and me. Moving along steady. Still good.

- Turn-around in Middleport went well. Joe went on to cross the timing mats while I refilled the bottles. Some pizza and Little Debbie’s later and we went on to the tent where the drop-bags were and I cleaned Joe’s feet and changed his socks. The feet looked great; no problem areas noted. I told him that the plan was to powder the feet and change socks again when we arrived back in Lockport. Some tapioca pudding, Ithaca Ginger Beer, and we were off again.

- A couple of miles before reaching the Lockport station again my cell phone rang. Lorrie was calling to find out how Joe was doing and I filled her in on everything. Things were looking great and Joe was about to complete his first 50-miler! It had finally started to lightly rain and the humidity was lessening. Things were looking good.

- Into the tent I went to refill the bottles and change my clothes while Joe crossed the timing mat (completing his first 50-miler in 12 hours, 3 minutes) and then changed his clothes. The plan was for me to check Joe’s feet here, powder them and change his socks. He wouldn’t let me do this; he just said he was fine. Knowing that I wouldn’t change his mind and hoping that he was right, I let it go. Pick your battles. Still lightly raining I discussed wearing jackets with Joe. Again, he assured me that he was warm enough and was fine. He seemed to know very well how he was doing and that made me feel better and off we went again – without jackets.

- Frogs – everywhere. Huge frogs whose eyes kept glowing in the light of my headlamp. I was glad to be able to see them because I was sure that stepping on one would make a huge squishy mess that would send either of us flailing into the canal. The rain picked up a bit but we were walking at a good clip right now with plenty of time in the bank to cover the desired distance.

- And then it happened . . . it started pouring rain. And the wind picked up. I had change of clothes and rain ponchos for us at the turn-around in Middleport, but it was getting to them that would be the challenge. And Joe’s feet were really hurting at this point. I feared that we were not moving fast enough to avoid hypothermia. We pulled into the Gasport aid station and after 14 hours, 27 minutes, and change, and it was good enough – a huge, huge accomplishment. The pride that I felt for my husband at this time was just so overwhelming that I was nearly in tears. How does he do it for me over and over again?

- So Honey, you wanted to run a mile for every year of your age? You covered 57 miles. So guess what? You’re 57 years old again! How’s that for a milestone!!

Thank you so much to Sam, Dani, Jen, Ginny, Nancy, Sam’s Mom & Dad, and all the other volunteers whose names I didn’t know! You guys rock! And thank you for the opportunity for me to help Joe do something that he has never done before – and now I know what agony he must go through worrying about me! Joe is now walking normally and able to get up off the couch without too much of a grunt. The blisters (one, I swear, looked like a sixth toe!) I had the pleasure of popping and dressing. And who knew that toenails could look like that? Eeewwwwwwwwwww. (Did I ever mention that the only things that really make me wretch other than earwax is toe-jam and really gnarly toenails?). Love will make you do all sorts of crazy things. And now I really realize how hard it is to help someone you love keep going when the going gets tough. I have to say that this is my most rewarding ultra ever. Thank you and congratulations, Honey. I love you.


“A lot of people run a race to see who’s the fastest. I run to see who has the most guts.” - Steve Prefontaine

And A New Brew Is Discovered . . .

One other great find on the rugby adventure last weekend . . . a new brew! Lake Placid craft brew 46'er Pale Ale. A rich copper pale ale with tons of flavor. Check it out, all you brew fans!

Rugby Once, Rugby Twice . . .

FINALLY . . . a weekend away from everything! Between training for upcoming races and volunteering all of our spare time as well as the never-ending daunting task of being the club's equipment managers, burnout was rapidly approaching. It was time for a much-needed weekend away from home, from running, and from life in general. And how fortunate for me that Joe keeps up with what's going on in the rugby scene and just happened to know that the CanAm Rugby Tournament was happening in Saranac Lake/Lake Placid this past weekend. So when I said to Joe "we need to go away for a weekend and do something non-running related" it was a huge treat to have the tournament happening that very same weekend that we wanted to get away.



So I worked on Thursday evening, got home after midnight, slept a few hours, and then we hit the road for the Adirondacks! The weather could not have been more perfect! It was sunny with clear blue skies and when we hit Saranac Lake on Friday afternoon it was actually a bit cool and I had to put a long sleeve shirt on! Awesome! We immediately caught a few matches of rugby - a contrast of the under 19 kids on one pitch and the over 50 guys on another. And it was really cool that the passion for the game was pretty much the same no matter what the ages of the players! These guys love their hard-hitting rugby and the people on the sidelines are equally as passionate about what is happening in the game. More sarcasm being tossed around than you can imagine!



We hotelled in Lake Placid and had a great time walking around the village on Friday night before enjoying a super italian feast outside. Again we had to pull on the long sleeves, but a nice fire out on the deck in combination with the cool temps made it so relaxing. And it seemed that no matter where we went we found someone to talk rugby with! These guys - current and past players - were all over the place.



Saturday's games were on some really beautiful fields in Lake Placid and we spent the entire day just going from match to match - there were about six pitches going with games, so if one game got a little boring we just turned to another one.






Joe gets to play touch judge















lineout
OK, back home and to reality and running. My secret life of rugby goes back into hiding and it's time to get it in gear and ready for the upcoming ultras. But I have to say . . . it was soooooooo good to get away and not have to think about anything except relaxing. We may have to do this more often . . .

Getting Ready

WOO HOO!! Training is going well . . . and we finally had a great day to run yesterday. Joe did a 14 mile training run on the Catherine Valley Trail (rails-to-trails path) on Friday when it was so disgustingly hot and humid, so the weather today was a definite welcome. Joe and I went out for a run on his "Mountain Madness" course (18.6 miles) yesterday as a nice training run for Joe's upcoming Beast of Burden 24-Hr race (where Joe wants to run 66 miles - the longest he has ever run at one time!) and my upcoming Green Lakes 100K. We had a beautiful day - temp was 73 at the start, sunny, nice cool breeze. Fortunately, Joe had the great idea of putting out an "aid station" for us about 10 miles into the run. So we parked a car with extra water and food, and when we both started to feel a little whippy from the hill climbs out in the open sun, just knowing that the food was waiting for us really kept us going. I have just two words: tapioca pudding. Let me just say how awesome this tasted! We were hot and hungry and cold tapioca pudding just slid right down our throats and immediately absorbed! No GI distress after and it was really nice to not have to think about chewing. My only regret is that we didn't have a little more at the stop and that we didn't put out another station in the later miles. However, this little experiment revealed another food choice for Joe, who doesn't like to have to chew any dry food during his runs.

The entire run took us about 4 hours, 15 minutes. If you check out the Mountain Madness pictures, you will see why. LOTS of hills. Joe won't have those hills at BOB but the training on them will make him mentally and physically stronger.

And we finished-off the day with a nice dinner of cucumber slices and a spicey chicken/rice dinner. So training is looking up.

"God has given me the ability. The rest is up to me. Believe. Believe. Believe . . . "
- Billy Mills

Way Too Long

OK, it's been way too long since my last post. My bad . . . I have just been totally overwhelmed with preparing for and then cleaning up after the big ultra . . . The Finger Lakes Fifties. This year I did not sign up for the Vermont 100, which I have done the past three years. Last year I realized that after putting so much of myself into getting The Fifties together, I just couldn't make that switch from race director back to runner in time to get myself ready for Vermont. So this year I didn't even try to. And I have to say that despite the fact that I felt like I was in withdrawal this past weekend with not being at Vermont, it was the right decision to not do it. No way I would have been ready. I have not been able to put in some really solid training runs for at least a month leading up to The Fifties and now that it's over - two weeks plus after - I am finally getting my mojo back on. The trails await me! So much to do, so little time. So as to keep myself on track and make myself feel at least a bit more accountable, I am going to put it down in writing right now what the plan of attack is . . .

* Stop eating so much crap! I have been living on instant sugar energy to keep going with race preparations and then feeling too tired to put much thought into eating the right stuff. It's time to get my training mind in order. Balance the diet: protein, carbs, veggies, and lots of water. Lay off on the beer for a bit and reserve it for the reward after hard training and racing.

* Get Joe in gear. Joe is doing quite well in his preparations for his big summer ultra - The Summer Beast of Burden 24-hr run. The plan is to run 66 miles in the given 24-hr period. I am confident that he can do it as long as he paces himself during the heat of the day, stays hydrated and electrolyted, and listens to his pacer - me - finally, I get to be the whip-ass! Rock on - what goes around, comes around, my lovely crew-man! I can't wait to help him reach his goal. Still more training runs to go, but his is on the right path.

* Gear up for the Green Lakes 100K. This will be my first attempt at the 100K at this event - actually my first real 100K race! I have completed 100K before during my 100 mile attempts, but have never actually run a 100K race flat-out, so I am really excited for this. The biggest issue with this race is the lap-thing - EIGHT laps! This is going to be a real mental challenge to keep going each time I come through the start/finish area, but Joe will be there cow-belling me on.

So that's where things are at right now. Other than that, I am glued to the Tour de France and am totalling rooting for Andy Schleck who, after yesterday's chain disaster on the climb, must have a gut full of anger that will bring him back to the yellow jersey. The kid's got style and he's an amazing climber. I am confident he will make his move on Contador.

And then there is Tri-Nations rugby starting up again. I have to admit that I haven't been able to get away from The Tour to even watch one game. This is a great tournament - New Zealand, South Africa, and Australia pitted against each other - and I don't have any emotional attachment to any of the teams, so it doesn't matter who wins! They are all super teams but I have to admit that if I had to pick one, South Africa - winners of last year's Tri-Nations - is my team for this year.

Time to get out for a run - maybe I will check out Joe's Mountain Madness 30K course today for a run. If you're up for a good run on August 15, check us out! It's huge fun. CLICK HERE for a tour of the course.

Until next time - cowgirl up!

The Body Forgives What The Mind Forgets

If you looked at my bruised and battered body right now, likely the first question would be “why?”. Why indeed. Kids play hard and look like this, but shouldn't adults know better? I haven't looked this beat-up since my days of mountain biking. Oh, that's right . . . I was of adult age then, too. And now I'm . . . 40 . . . and it's great to be a kid! And I just keep coming back for more. Right now I hurt and am tired. Thank goodness the body forgives what the mind all too quickly forgets.

Why do some people run long distances? It certainly can't be because it feels good - because those of us who have done it know that it hurts like hell - physically and mentally. Could it be for that ecstatic feeling that you get when you cross the finish line? Hard to say - you don't want to even think about the finish line because making it there is never a guarantee. But then, what is the “finish line”? The finish actually comes when you have gone as far as you can; when you have laid it all out there and have nothing left. It’s when you have gone beyond the point of where it is pointless to keep going, gone beyond what is reasonable and sometimes beyond what is safe. It’s the point where you find out what you are truly made of; where your passion keeps you going for that last little bit. That’s what attempting to run 100 miles is about for me. It’s the challenge. It's about constantly looking for the finish - and never knowing where that may be.

I have now attempted four 100 milers. The first one I went as far as I could and didn't reach the official finish. I reached my finish for that day, but completing the event was still unfinished business and so I had to go back for more. In my next attempt I crossed the official race finish line. Business finished, right? Nope. I craved more. 100 #3 - too sick to keep going after 83 miles of nausea. This sucked - I wouldn't do it again, right? Wrong. Time to go for broke; time to go to a new location and try again. Go for the hills. Go for the rocks. Go where there are lots of nasty, gnarly, disgusting creatures and sheer drops that would scare the hell out of me. Yes, that's what I wanted. And that's what I got. Enter Massanutten Mountain Trails 100 Miler . . . one of the hardest, nastiest, unforgiving 100 milers on the east coast.

A lot of money, training, time, and devotion from your friends is required to prepare for and get through the actual event and it’s a lot of pressure to perform. But that's the great thing about running ultras and the friends who support your addiction - they are there for you, no matter what. When you are disappointed in what you haven't done, they point out what you have done. They support you, feed you, clean your dirty feet and wounds, change your nasty stinky socks, and they lie to you. That's what friends are for. And, once again, I had a great lying, loving crew of Joe, Karen Fennie, and Jill Fickbohm (the "virgin" in a group of ultrarunners, who now knows what 100-milers are really about) who ignored my tears, bitching, and pleas to stop and kept me going. Even when the possibility of reaching the official finish line within the time limit was no longer even viable, they wouldn't even think about letting me leave any unfinished business out there in the mountains.

So rather than bore you with the step-by-step run (and the term "run" is totally relative when you refer to the MMT course), let me just give a run-down of the highlights and remembrances.

Maybe these images will intrigue you into trying one of these events yourself!

• Packing the car and the rear-hitch carrier the morning of our departure for Virginia. And then Joe coming into the house and saying "I hate to even ask . . . do you think we will need The Clam?" (The Clam is the roof-top carrier. Those of you who have traveled with me to ultras know what a "light packer" I am - NOT!).
• Filling The Clam, the car, and the rear carrier and the four of us packed into the vehicle and not being able to see out of the back window! Somehow I think we resembled Sanford & Son as we rolled down the highway!
• Joe trying to sever my right arm as I tried to pack just one more bag into the already overstuffed back of the car and him closing the door on me. My first of many bruises.
• Foregoing the hotel room and opting for a tent to sleep in - OK, so I think this is really what put my packing limit over the top! Sleeping out in nature with only the sounds of a light intermittent rain, bugs hitting the sides of the tent, and the coyotes howling in the distance was actually quite relaxing.
• Waking up race morning feeling eerily rested and ready to hit the trails.
• Hitting the first trail and actually being able to run . . . but not for long . . . the climb up Short Mountain brought the entire group to a sweat-drenching hike, where us runners were pretty much bent over with chests touching knees as we climbed higher and higher.
• Catching glimpses between rocks and branches (and repeated ear-popping) just how high above the rest of the world we were.
• Never actually being able to take in the views and run at the same time. If I was running, my head was down with eyes on the trail. If I wanted to take in the views it required coming to a complete hault. Running and sightseeing at the same time almost assuredly meant kissing the ground - which I did - HARD - several times.
• Running along a sunny trail, feeling good to actually be running, and having to hit the breaks fast to avoid stepping onto the four-foot black snake that was stretched across the trail. The runner behind me assured me that the snake wouldn't hurt me, but just to be sure I made him go over it first.
• Having to go for 9-10 miles between aid stations and many hours without seeing my crew.
• Reaching an aid station in the dark and not being able to have my pacer with me for another 9.5 miles. I have always had someone with me when I run in the dark. This was my very first experience running alone in the dark . . . and doing it on a high ridge and over rocky trails. I am scared of the dark. Dead leaves curled up and hanging from tree limbs really resembled bats hanging and many times I had to stop and really assess the situation before going by.
• The incessant chirping of the whipporwills, howling coyotes, and moving glow eyes in the dark kept me very much alert to my surroundings.
• Reaching the 68 mile aid station, still in the dark, resigned to stopping since I knew there was no way I would reach the finish line in 36 hours now. I had already been going for almost 24 hours.
• Choking down french toast while my crew and a very persistant woman working the aid station tried to tell me how bad I would feel for "DNF-ing". The finish would be when I was not allowed to go on anymore, not stopping just because I hurt. They tried to convince me that I would feel better when the sun came up. Having not the mental fortitude to argue, I got my fanny out of the chair and started the death march.
• Leaving that aid station crying but moving. Adding on some extra feet here and there as wrong turns were made, but still being able to keep going.
• Seeing that second sunrise and still feeling very much awake and alert and able to make the ridiculous climbs up the ridges and over rocks but crying and yelling obscenities with the pain that came from each foot coming down on yet another rock.
• Being at the top of the world and taking in the views through tears.
• Having a wonderful pacer in Karen who, despite my swearing and crying, kept telling me how good I was doing and how proud she was of me. How can you let someone down when they can keep giving you these good vibes during what you think are your worst moments?
• Finally making it through what I thought was only supposed to be a 4-mile section which actually was a 9-mile section and seeing Joe and Jill waiting for us. And then having to hit the pavement to get back to the aid station. And I thought rocks were hard on the feet!
• With about 1 mile to go to get to the aid station and after 28 1/2 hours of being on my feet, knowing that I was not going to be allowed to go any more, I reached my finish. And sat on a guardrail and waited for Joe to get the car and pick me up.
• 28 1/2 hours on my feet and completing 76 miles and feeling just as awake and alert as the moment the race started. Sorer, stinkier, and much hungrier, I was content with what we had accomplished.
• Receiving my "MMT Visitor's Award" (picture at the beginning of the story). Way cool.
• Getting to a hotel with a real bed, putting my feet up and downing two beers with my wonderful crew. And after a nap, heading out for dinner where I actually was able to sit up and stay awake, and enjoy two "mucho margaritas" with my wonderful crew. Cheers to us! Another Pork Slap Ale when we got back to hotel room, and my recovery was well under way.
• Waking throughout the night to eat . . . salt & vinegar chips, peanut M&Ms, Combos, cold french fries, and a piece of cold fried fish left over from dinner. And still being hungry when I woke up in the morning.

So this was my adventure through the Massanutten Mountains. Not a 100 miles this time, but likely one of the greatest adventures I have and will undertake. It was the scariest, hardest, most awesome thing I have ever done. I did more things that I would never have done on my own because they are high on my "fear factor" list - and did them without even thinking about it. You do what you have to do. But it is so much easier to get through them with a lot of help from your friends.

Will I try another 100-miler? At this time I am ready for a break, ready to get some strong 50-milers in and get ready for a 100K in August. But 100 miles? Never say never. I may be bruised and battered, tired and whipped, but remember . . . the body will forgive what the mind will inevitably forget.

CLICK HERE for a link to some of the pics of the weekend. More to come when the Funsaver gets developed!

Cowgirl up! Pick 'em up, put 'em down, RAWHIDE!