I haven't raced at all lately, mainly because I'm cheap and I'm not a "social" racer meaning, usually when I sign up for a race, I'm either running for time, place, or a training purpose. I love hanging out with my runner friends at races but I usually don't sign up for races just to socialize.
The big race in central Indiana on November 7th was the Monumental Marathon. I was originally going to run it and had asked for the weekend off at the beginning of the year but didn't register because I'd learned my lesson last year. This was originally going to be my fall marathon but I decided over the summer not to do it. Everybody was running it this past weekend. I kinda sorta wanted to be a part of it but I certainly wasn't in any marathon shape. Heck, I'd hardly run in a month since I got sick. I had thought about doing the half but I didn't want to pay $70+ to do it when I could just roll out my front door and run 13.1 miles for free. I guess that's the downside to having the ability to do that; running 13 miles is no longer an event. I batted around the idea of volunteering to pace the half as I was sure I could pace anything slower than 2:10 but then found out that there were no half marathon pacers. Oh well, I resigned myself to not doing anything that weekend.
Then... Sue talks me into doing this trail run. She was going to do it with her brother and her niece. Her brother Jed is a really good ultramarathoner with multiple Boston runs under his belt. He was doing the 50K trail run. Sue is pretty fast too and also has multiple Boston runs under her belt. (Thinking back, she was the one that was supposed to run the Monumental Marathon with me in 2013 in my first try at a BQ but ended up not being able to run that day). She thought she'd do the Fun Run. The Fun Run is 14.1 miles. Kinda funny how perspective changes when you hang out with ultra runners. The other race going on that day was a 50 miler - hence the OPSF 50/50.
This was perfect. I was going to have fun. No pressure. There is no way to compare trail running times to road racing times and you can't even compare trail races with each other because every trail is different. I'd never run a long trail race so there were no expectations. I'd get a long run in, hang out with some friends, and get some hill running in too. A training run with a purpose. For $35 I was in.
Race morning rolls around. My car says it's 39 degrees. Perfect running weather once you get moving. Me, Sue, and her niece Jill are all huddled in Jill's car half joking about a 1-2-3 finish. Jill's never run more than 13.1 miles but she's been training. Sue and I on the other hand have hardly been running. We're gonna just run on our "old lady muscles."
We amble over to the start at the 5 minute call. The 50K/50 milers started an hour before us. I think there are about 20 runners. No corrals, chips or timing mats. The starter says "go" and off we go.
It's been a gorgeous Indiana fall... but it rained the two days before the race. A guy in a cut off T-shirt darted to the front and was gone. After him were two guys running together with gaiters on. I followed these two. I had no idea who anyone was or how fast anyone ran except Sue. We had gone maybe 400 meters... it was really muddy so I had been watching the guys in front of me to see where they were stepping. We went over some leaves when, suddenly, what the heck!!! I found myself standing ankle deep in soft mud in just my socks! My shoes were 5 yards behind me. The mud had literally sucked my shoes off my feet. F***! Here I was, a quarter mile into a 14 mile race, feet soaking wet and muddy. It actually took some effort to tug my shoes out of the mud. Then, I had to cram my muddy feet back in the shoes, tying them as tight as I could to prevent a repeat episode, all the while it felt like the whole world was passing me by.
OK, so I lied. I did have a little expectation going into this run... I had looked up the times from the year before (I know, I know... I can't help it...) The first woman had crossed in 2:59:40. I say "first woman" as there are no awards in this race. I thought I could run this in 3:00 or less. I had run 10 in Morgan Monroe in just under 2:00 about a month earlier. Surely I could run 4 more miles in an hour. However, this was billed as "the toughest race in Indiana." Really? How much tougher could it really be. We're in Indiana. Not Colorado or California.
Anyhoos... I get my shoes back on and take off running. I caught up to a man and woman running together who told me to pass. It was a single track trail now. I caught up to another man and ran behind him until there was a wide spot and then went around him. I caught up to a second man and did the same thing. Soon I saw Sue's pink shirt up ahead of me and caught up to her. We ran together for a couple miles.
It was crazy. It was so muddy it was like trying to run on a huge Slip and Slide. In some spots you just had to pick your way through and try not to sink too deep in the mud. We were both cursing, swearing we would never do this again...and who's idea it was...
We got to the first Aid Station 5.5 miles into the race. I stopped to drink a couple cups of water but Sue went on. I left the Aid Station and the trail sloped down to a road. I crossed the road but couldn't find the trail on the other side. The Aid Stations are just off the forest access roads so the volunteers can get to them. I ran back up to the Aid Station to ask where the trail went. Do I cross the road? One guy said "yes" and another said "no." Just then, I saw some of the Ultra runners coming back from the other direction. There was a trail off to the right just past the Aid Station. This was the correct way. It paralleled the road for a bit and then you crossed the road and picked up on the other side.
Once I crossed the road, it was hillier but a bit drier. This was supposed to be the out and back portion of the trail (from Aid Station B to Aid Station C, and then back to B). The race map looked like this...
I started seeing more Ultra runners coming back the other way. "Good Job" was the common greeting amongst all. The footing was still treacherous. The course was marked with pink flags but to see them, you had to keep looking ahead and then you couldn't watch your footing. What was so treacherous was the thick layer of leaves. Often, like where I lost my shoes, there was thick mud underneath. I started up a hill when I spotted another runner below me on the hillside. "Over here, the course is over here." It was Jed yelling at me. I was totally going the wrong way. If he hadn't crossed paths with me in that instant I'd probably been lost for quite some time.
I ran alone for another stretch. I then came upon two guys coming towards me, but from the side of the trail, who asked me if I had reached the turnaround yet. They said they had gotten lost, then went by me the other direction. I couldn't tell if they were Ultra runners or some of the Fun Run runners that had passed me. Alone again but still seeing pink flags. I hadn't studied the course map very closely so I had had it in my head that the next Aid Station was at the halfway point. I passed 7 miles on my Garmin and I was still running alone in the woods. I started getting concerned.
The guy in the cut off T-shirt then came running towards me. Phew! I knew he was the Fun Run race leader. I wasn't lost. Jill came flying towards me a short while later. I looked at my watch. 7.5 miles. She yelled that Sue was "just up ahead" of me. The two guys in gaiters came past me after that. Then, I felt like I ran and I ran and I ran. Nobody. Again I was seriously concerned I was lost. Finally I saw Sue's pink shirt coming towards me. "Oh good, I'm not lost!"
Sue pointed out the Aid Station on the road just behind her. "Remember where the trail is!" was her advice. She had lost the trail where it met the road and had just now found it again. This was an unmanned Aid Station. Just jugs of water on a picnic table. Just jugs. No cups. I guess all the Ultra runners were carrying bottles. I found the lightest jug and poured water in my mouth. Then I hit the port-a-potty. Second time ever that I've used a port-a-potty in a race but it's not like a couple minutes were going to matter at this point. Garmin read 8.5 miles. I figured Jill was at least 2 miles ahead of us. Might as well be comfortable.
Going back to Aid Station B felt better, mostly because I saw more people and I knew I wasn't lost. I caught back up to Sue but then let her go on ahead. I had tweaked my right ankle four times by now so I just wanted to make it back to run another day rather than all out sprain the ankle. The ground was still so slippery I couldn't stay upright. I felt like I had been on a drinking binge and then decided to go for a run. All the hills were walked aggressively. All the downhills were run with trepidation. All the flats were too slippery to run. There weren't a whole lotta flats either...
Only after I got back to Aid Station B did I realize that the Aid Station wasn't in the middle of the loop. The leg from the Start to the Aid Station was longer than from the Aid Station to the Finish. Garmin read 11 miles. I was ready to get this thing over with!
There was a long uphill going out of Aid Station B. Everyone was walking. I passed two Ultra runners then, thankfully, the trail went to my left and was more runnable. I caught back up to Sue and we ran together for a while. Walked up another uphill. Again the trail seemed more runnable after that so I told her I was going to run what I could and took off running. At about 12.5 miles there was the most ridiculous hill that came straight out of a creek. I literally had to use my hands to get up it. Ran more after that. Then, I turned a corner and boom! there was the finish line. I was not expecting the finish to be there. I thought I'd see or hear it long before I got to it, but there it was, right in front of me. "Second woman" was called out as I crossed. I'll take it. I was happy to be done. Happy to still have my ankles. Happy to still have my shoes. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful fall day. It was a great workout. It was fun. I'm not sure if I could call it running though...
Official time 3:03:57. Not 3:00 but close enough... although... I wonder what I could run it on a dry day?
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