I remember being very excited about this race when it was first announced a while back. I remember being excited about having a race early in the year to help keep me excited about my training. Thinking that this race was only the beginning of what I imagined would be an awesome series to fill my year with races was something that has kept me excited since I finished my race season last year. Then, I decided to accept the job in Texas and that changed everything. This race would likely be the last race in Idaho for me for a while. I was happy with my training, and I believed that I could have a nice result. Then... I got sick. And then.... the weather got shitty.... really shitty.
I decided to run this race no matter how bad I felt. "Quit" is not in my vocabulary. I told myself that I just wanted to finish, and I would be happy with it. I stood in the crowd of anxious runners who had the guts to show up and I suddenly realized how much I would be giving up running wise in order to take the job in Texas. It sucks to think about. As the shotgun blasted, we all took off. I basically walked for the first mile, as I was stuck in a tight group. I figured it wouldn't be a problem and that I would be able to catch up later. This wasn't really the case, but I kept a steady pace of walking when it made sense and running when I could. I was happy that I brought my trekking poles, as they made it a lot easier to keep steady in the mud and slippery conditions. The trails were in worse shape than I could imagine. I thought that the Dry Creek Half Marathon was bad, and it had absolutely nothing on this. I made my way up to the summit at Wilson Peak and it was snowing. Pretty hard actually. I remember getting pelted in the eyes by hail which was annoying. I just kept thinking that this was the type of race that builds character. I would need races like these in order to build the mental toughness that I will need to finish at Antelope Island in March. I reached the summit and turned around immediately and started the descent and I quickly realized how much extra energy I had expended slogging up the mountain. My legs felt heavy and nearly worthless to me. I just kept repeating in my head.. "Relentless.....Forward.....Progress". Then, my knee started acting up which is typically what happens to me on the downhill portion of the 20 mile loop. I had hoped that with my training, the trekking poles, and being taped up would keep that pain in check but I was wrong. It began to hurt worse and worse, to the point that I started to consider dropping at the end of the loop. I just kept pushing, knowing that one way or the other, I had to get down off of the mountain on my own two feet. My energy levels were down, my knee was killing me, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Even so, I kept moving forward repeating my mantra over and over. As I entered the aid station at mile 18 or so, I realized that the worst of the race was over. I left the aid station with a smile on my face and a renewed confidence. I ran nearly the rest of the way into the aid station and was greeted by Holly and Brian from the Pulse who filled my pack and gave me oranges. Then some guy came over and started asking me if I was ok and hassled me about whether I was delirious or not. It pissed me off then, and pisses me off now. I am sure that I was lucid and able to go on, and I am also sure that he was just doing his job and caring for me. I just can't imagine that I looked that bad. With my pack replenished, I headed off to finish my race.
I started off down the trail feeling pretty strong, and just waiting for the trail to turn to shit. It didn't take long, as the next 4 miles were nothing but lame slogging up trails. As I reached the Rocky Road aid station, I was excited to see Christy and Linda. I felt my pack and knew that I had enough water to go on. I got a sandwich and some peanut butter balls and tried to get a hug from Christy but she wasn't having it, so I just took off, knowing that I could damn near smell the barn from here. I felt like I started making up some time on the next section, but I was a little uneasy on the trail that was littered with rocks. I decided to play it safe and walk a lot of the way until the trail mellowed out. When it did, I looked down and was running at an 8:00/mile pace. My knee hurt and I couldn't breathe, but I didn't care. I saw the last aid station, and when I entered, I was once again accused of being delirious and got a little more pissed off. I grabbed an orange, thanked the staff and took off for a nice run in the canyon. As I was running through, I almost wanted to walk just to enjoy the scenery. I walked more than was necessary, but I didn't really care. As I was exiting the canyon, Tony Salazar scared the shit out of me. I think I literally screamed like a girl. Seemed like we came out of nowhere. We walked together for the next .75 mile and he left me behind as he was able to run better than I could. I didn't mind. I was on my way to my first official 50k finish, and I was just pleased that I was able to gut it out and finish. When I saw the finish line, I was elated. I crossed at 8:30 with a final pace of 16:10 ish.
I can't say that I am happy with the time of the result. It really felt slow, and I was disheartened when I saw that the winners of the race were more than three hours faster than me. Conditions or not, I should be stronger than than that. Hopefully, I can overcome these issues in my races later this year... whichever they may be.
