Relative success is a dangerous thing. It gives you a taste of what you are capable of, and a thirst for success.
As a runner, I’ve found my niche in multi-day running. I didn’t start experiencing any regular
podium placements until I started going 48 hours and beyond. It turns out, as a slow runner, you can still
have success at races as long as they are races that rely on tools beyond just
raw speed. I've discovered I have an
energizer bunny gear that just keeps going… and going… and going…
Usually, anyway.
Thus, the reason why I sign up for these events that are so
very hard on the body, and so very enlightening for the soul.
48 and 72 hour races… they are brutal enough. But 6 day is a whole different beast. It is, when you think about it, almost a week of constant running. That is a long time. Life in the outside world happens and you are running. There is world news being made, babies being born, people dying. And you are running.
It’s kind of crazy.
At my first 6 Day race, I was chatting with Dave Johnston
somewhere around Day 5 and we were talking about what we were going to do in
the “after” times. I said “see that
CVS? Over there? Across the street? I’m going to go there. I’m going to get off this effing course and
go the that CVS. Because I can. And… see that path? I’m going to walk on that path."
Craziness. For a
week, you are a hamster on a wheel.
Why would anybody do this thing?
Turns out we all have different motivations. For some, it is purely about the record. If there is not an opportunity to set a
record, there is no reason to race. For
others, it is all about the friendships.
Just a couple of days set aside to do some easy running. For others of us, it is somewhere in
between.
Me? I’ve come to like
pretty trophies. I’m always thrilled to
get a trophy – particularly one as beautiful as those handed out at the
Fair. Records? Those are pretty swell too. I managed to get myself an age-group world
record at the first 6 Day I did (although I am well aware that there were other
faster runs that exceed my mark and just didn’t have the right paperwork to
make them a record). So – my name is out
there. Appropriately, or no.
So – this race. It
was to be my 2nd 6 day race.
My first one at Across the Years 2018/2019 went astoundingly well. I exceeded my stretch goal, broke the women’s
course record, and got myself the age group world record (again technicalities,
but…). 453 miles, or you could call it
452 and change after the course got audited and adjusted. In any case, a well-executed race.
It stood to reason that if I had done this at my first
6-Day, there was room for improvement.
Yes?
I set my sights high.
500 miles. Pretty round
number. Planned splits? 100 on day 1 followed by 5 80’s. So that was my A+++ goal. “A” goal was the Women’s Road record which
(also due to technicalities) stands at 475 miles. 475 is only 22 more than I had logged at ATY,
so that actually seemed pretty reasonable.
“B” goal… to at least exceed my
past performance of 453. “C” goal… 400
miles.
It turns out I needed a “D” goal.
Fortunately, I had one.
My “D” goal, after my course walk-off at my 48 hour at ATY last year,
was “Stay on the fucking course”.
I’m pleased to say, (and hope I’m not giving too much away)
that I met my D goal.
Generally I am not good at taper but because of all the
really big miles I’d been putting in all summer, I actually rested quite a bit
coming into the race. My legs felt bouncy and energetic during my baby runs all that last week and I was raring to go.
Given that I knew exactly what I was in for (or so I
thought) in terms of the mental difficulty of a 6 day race, I actually slept
pretty well the night before. I was
honored to have had Dave Oakley of Ohio volunteer as crew, and we both stayed
in our posh new RV the night before the race, getting everything
organized.
Race morning was warm and muggy, and the day only got warmer
and muggier. There were less than 20 of
us on the starting line at 9am. Rick did
the countdown and we started off at an easy jog.
I could immediately see the benefits of the extra rest in
the fast miles that were coming surprisingly easily. Normally my “slow easy” is somewhere closer
to an 11 minute mile but I was throwing down consistent 10:20-10:30’s without
any effort. This got me to 50 in 9 hours
11 minutes, and got me a 100 mile PR at 20 hours 20 minutes. Although my
planned Day 1 split was 100, I had always had it in my head that if I COULD go
105, I would. Turns out I logged 108
(although about 20 seconds of that was in day 2 so my official day 1 total was
107). That gave me a little cushion to
play with in terms of days 2-6 where I hoped to log an average of 80 each
day.
One of the treats of day 2 was the arrival of my cousin Rebecca, who was going to be on Team Amy from Day 2 to 3. Rebecca is not only my cousin, but perhaps my closest friend. We have shared incredible ups and downs all of our lives and had always been there for each other. She had never seen me in my ultra world with my ultra people and I was so happy and grateful that she was coming to be part of the fun
Day 2 the weather
changed from hot and muggy, requiring constant ice bandana changes, to muggy
and rainy in the late afternoon. It was
still warm, but not so warm that the ice bandana was needed, and I was still,
at that point, running in a jog bra. Later in the evening a shirt went on, and
then it REALLY started to rain. It went
from a steady drizzle to a deluge and the course started to empty. Through quite a bit of the night, there were
probably no more than 3 of us on course. Dave and Rebecca were critical to my emotional and physical well being. Despite the downpour, Dave was out there, under the tent, as I ran lap after lap. The real kicker came when the temperature plunged at least 10 degrees
and very suddenly I was too cold to go much further. I decided to come in and get warm and dry and
then go out and get the rest of day 2 miles after a nap. That plan worked and I ended day 2 with a
total of 187 miles.
 |
| Although I didn't know it yet, the Lean was starting |
Day 3, the weather dawned beautiful. Crisp, clear, cool, dry. You really couldn’t get any better. I was running pretty consistent 13-15’s which should easily get me my day’s 80 in 20 moving hours, allowing a bit of off-course nap time.
I think it was about halfway through Day 3 that I saw my
shadow, and noticed my right shoulder was significantly lower than my
left. “Am I leaning?” I asked a fellow
runner in horror.
“Yes. You have been
for a while.”
Oh dear. This was not
a good thing. I’ve seen it, but never
experienced it firsthand. For anyone not
familiar with “The Lean”, essentially the runner mysteriously just starts
leaning precipitously in one direction or the other. Sometimes it is forward or backward rather
than sideways. It looks, frankly,
ridiculous. But worse, although at first
you don’t even know you are doing it, eventually if it continues it
significantly affects your ability to move forward comfortably. For me, this ended up resulting in a running
form that required me to shove my right hand into my right hip and literally
try to counterbalance the right lean with a leftward push. Any time I removed my hand, I went almost a
foot further over and started to tip.
It was awful. And
worse, it was painful. Not in an acute
way, but in a mile after mile after mile weary way – each step adding to the
pain and fatigue and sucking the joy from the run. I think by the end of Day 3 I was pretty
confident that any hopes of 500 were long gone, and that 475 was a long shot. I only got in about 62 miles – my lowest day
so far. There was no way to come back from that. I think this is when I had my first good cry.
The morning of Day 4 was rough. I managed about a mile an hour for the first
few hours after 9am. I had been in touch
with Trishul Cherns who was coming to the grounds to support Camille Herron and
he generously offered to do some body work to see if he could get me moving
again.
After my time with Trishul, I was finally able to string together some consistent laps. He assured me that my race wasn’t over, and that I just needed to keep walking. My goal for the day was to end up with a total of 50 miles for day 4. Unfortunately somewhere around 10:30-11pm I was just so fatigued I couldn’t keep going.
It was supposed to
start raining at 3am and go through 7, so I had really hoped to stay on the
course during the rest of the dry time prior to 3. Given the discomfort of the cold rain the previous day, I had no confidence I’d be
able to get out there and just walk slowly in cold rain, so I pretty much wrote
off 3am to 7. It felt like by coming in at 10:30pm, I was pretty much
giving up the rest of the night. So be
it. I needed some rest. I made a Facebook post at that point pretty
much putting it out there that I was resting and we’d see what happened.
I didn’t set an alarm, because I figured I’d just sleep
until morning. Magically, I woke up
around 3:30. I could hear a steady rain,
but when I got out of bed I realized I felt less sore and stiff than I had in a
while. I realized if I got out there and
got going, I could get in up to another 15 before 9am. I pulled on lots of clothing including a
garbage bag vest for waterproof warmth, because as long as I could move, I
figured my worst enemy was the cold rain.
I got out there and started to move.
And I could.
That was possibly one of the more joyful moments in the race
– to feel myself be able to move comfortably again, one of very few people out
there in the rain, contemplating why I do these things. Realizing that true enlightenment comes when
you are stripped raw and humbled. You
start to see into the inner depths of your soul and figure out what you are
made of.
I wasn’t unhappy with what I saw.
Those moments in night 4 were the epitome of why I do these
multi-days. Enlightenment and Transcendence. At this point in the race, I
had lost hope of all of my real mileage goals.
I was one of the pack – slower, at this point, really, than most of the
pack. Each of us was out here
discovering different aspects of ourselves.
I had a few revelations: It is OK… to run less. It is OK to have
running not be the sole focus of my existence.
I am made up of so much more than running and my other addictions. I bake bread.
I knit. I write poetry. I am the mother to a beautiful, smart,
courageous daughter. I am the daughter
of 2 role models who taught me that I can do anything I put my mind to it. There is peace to be found in running
forever, but there is also peace to be found in stillness, and sometimes it is
OK to be still.
More… I am a woman with friends. And everyone, EVERYONE out here on this
course is my friend. What a gift, to be
able to spend happy miles, sad miles, painful miles, rainy nighttime miles,
scorching daytime miles, with these people. Had I still been able to pursue a monster goal, I would not have these laps with my friends. What a privilege to have them in my life.
No matter what I end up getting in this race, I will always
have this night.
Those 15 miles were as close to perfect as they come. I ended Day 4 with 40 miles rather than the 25 I’d been resigned to when I'd come in at 10:30 the previous night.
It was now Day 5. Day 5 was pretty exciting for a number of
reasons. First, the 48 hour folks were
starting. I had several friends in the
field including Bob Hearn, Marisa Lizak, as well as Camille Herron who was
aiming for the world record. The weather
was beautiful – sunny, clear, cool, dry,
and I had just had a positive start to the day, as well as the most sleep I’d
had all week. I was pretty on top of the
world.
Day 5 was just glorious.
I was happy. I was moving. Not running, but moving, and moving
steadily. I enjoyed the other runners, I
was thrilled that I’d made it to day 5, and I was pretty confident that I had a
shot at my “C” goal of 400. In order to
do that, I had to do 56 on Day 5 and 55 on Day 6. I pulled out a few tools in my arsenal. I’d been running quiet for days – somehow
just didn’t want the noise in my head, but by Day 5 I was ready to rock. The songs I was listening to had a hard, edgy,
driving beat. I started with Boss’s “I
Don’t Give a Fuck” and cranked it to full volume. The raging bravado of the song fit perfectly
with my mood and the beat allowed me to increase the cadence of my walk, swing
my left arm, and let anger at my situation and determination drive me forward. Step STEP step STEP idontgiveafuckIdontgiveafuckidontgiveafuckidontgiveafuck…motherFUCKER…idontgiveafucknotasinglesolitaryfuckidontgiveafuckidontgiveafuck…motherFUCKER
step STEP step STEP step STEP step STEP.
18 minute mile. BAM. I then turned up my new Facebook
collaborative playlist really really loud and ran to Skinny Puppy,
Ministry, 9 Inch Nails, Eminem, and The
Beastie Boys, among others. Those were some good miles.
I also ventured into the podcast world, which I had never
really done before. (4 podcasts – one
about Jack the Ripper, one about unsolved crimes, one interview with Dolly
Parton where they played a game called “Dolly or Dali” where the participants
had to guess as to whether the quote was from Dolly Parton or the Dali Llama,
and one interview with Elan Musk. Who
sounded, pardon me, kind of douchy).
 |
| Moving Joyfully |
The only challenge
with using my phone much out there was that any time I took my right hand away
from my hip (remember, I was holding
myself up), I started to tip over to the right.
So, in order to do anything that required typing on my phone, I had to
stop entirely. Still, I finished Day 5 at 345 miles, with only 55 to go to make
it to 400. I took my 90 minute nap, and
ventured into Day 6.
Which… did not feel so great. Early on, buoyed by my great day 5, I tested
out a few running steps. When I say a
few, I mean a few. Very short, very easy
jogging steps – just enough to turn those 20:35 minute miles into 18:50’s. Which is actually huge, but not a lot of
running.
Whether it was trying to throw in any run at all again or
just the accumulated fatigue of holding my back up, Day 6 was just a constant
pain cave. I was not in a happy place –
I was just putting one painful foot in front of the other. I felt like I was moving through deep water
all day – groggy, miserable, slow, and in pain.
I wanted to enjoy other’s company but I was walking too slowly to even hang
with other walkers for any length of time.
The highlight of daytime in Day 6 was watching Bob Hearn and Marisa’s
steady beautiful running. And the
knowledge that however it turned out, it would be over soon.
 |
| The only way I could move was to force my right arm into my right hip. Stop doing this, and I tipped right over. My arm got very tired. |
The thing about timed races is… you are always doing
math. As in… if I want to get 55 miles
in X hours, and I am going X speed I have to move for X hours and can nap
for X time. If the miles get faster,
you get more nap buffer. If they get
slower…. (which happens with bathroom
stops, aid station stops, shoe changes, or just slowing down due to pain)…. you
get less true rest.
Oh, and did I mention the blisters? Well, somewhere mid-race I had to have Dave
perform surgery on 2 pairs of shoes to cut out the toe-box as, despite my best
efforts, I was getting under-toenail blisters.
So my piggies were bared to the world for the last 3 days. With lancing to drain fluid, and application of Run-Goo, the toe blisters were completely controlled. It turns out it is phenomenally comfortable
to run in shoes with the toe boxes cut out, so that is in my arsenal for the
future. Alas, it doesn’t help with those
half-dollar sized blisters on the pad of your foot nor with the quarter sized
heel blisters. Those I just lanced and
Run-Goo’d, which pretty much took care of the situation.
Anyway, back to Day 6.
I tried. I really did. The miles ticked by, painfully, slowly, and
evening approached. Time was now my
enemy – it amazingly was moving too fast. (This doesn't usually happen in a multi-day, lol). As much as I knew I needed to stay out there on the course, I was also
feeling like without more decent sleep I just couldn’t make any miles quicker
than 23 minutes or so. It was a
balancing game between whether it was better to get really slow miles, or nap
more often to allow short bursts where I could have faster less painful miles. With 26 miles to go, I decided that a nap was
necessary. I figured I could throw down
3 20 minute power naps between 26 miles and the end – so nap, go around 9-10,
nap again, do the same, and finish.
Except… getting up from that 20 minute nap with the 26 to go felt so
very, very bad. I was slow, I was
groggy, and what’s more, my right ankle was starting to get really, really
angry. It was swollen and hurt to flex, and every step was painful.
 |
| It was purely a coincidence that I was wearing my shirt from the Crooked Road race. The Jester said I should take a sharpie and write "With a Crooked Back" underneath! |
OK. What was in my
arsenal? Caffeine. I didn’t want to drink it because my
stomach was sloshy, gurgly and in general unhappy. Which also made it hard to breath – it felt
like nothing was moving, and that plus the lean just limited any room for
breath in my rib cage.
I took a NoDoz and kept moving.
 |
| Hurting. A lot. Dave saying "Just one more lap". |
It was the right call for that moment and got me another 7
miles to 381 – 19 short of my goal. It
was approximately 1 am or so. My ankle
at this point was screaming – I was limping and it was hard to bend my right
foot upward. It felt like a soft tissue
injury or tendonitis and I knew without any doubt or any remorse that I needed
to give up the 400 goal and take care of my body. I came in to rest, hoping that with a few
hours of rest I could at least possibly get to 390. I slept until perhaps 4 – plenty of time, on
paper, to get in another 9 -15 miles. I
gingerly stepped on to the RV floor.
Ow. That ankle didn’t feel good
at all. I walked a lap. Ow.
Not good. I walked another
lap. Worse. Ankle screaming.
Done.
All I was going to do at this point, trying to get in any
more miles, was hurt myself. There was
no getting to 400… there was no getting
to 390.
OK then. Back to
bed. I had 383.
I slept the sleep of the dead for another couple of hours
and woke up at sunrise, feeling both vaguely worried about my ankle as well as
remarkably content. I had a Facebook
conversation with Scotty, who was also injured, suggesting maybe we could do a
hobble lap. I taped up my ankle and with
the tape and wearing sandals instead of shoes, I could, it seems, walk a very
slow not horribly painful 30 minute mile.
This was the time in a multi-day race when everyone who was sleeping
starts moving again – it is often a joyful time. People have made it through the darkness and
are almost at the end. I see Scotty and
we walk and cry together. I love
Scotty. So damn much.
 |
| Walking and Crying with Scotty |
I love all of these people.
John Beck, Linda, Fran, Al, Ke’mani, Fred (who had to leave early due to a family tragedy), Kootz
(son), Jim and Joan, Helen, Dave L, the McNulty's, Shamus, Mark. I’m sure I’m missing folks and I’m sorry. The
Fair… it’s special.
I actually was able to get in 2 more laps after I was done. I finished with 385 miles - enough for first place female, and 2nd overall. 115 miles shy of my A+++ goal. But hey... I nailed my "D" goal.
It was a good week.
 |
| Receiving my award from RD Rick McNulty |
 |
| 3 years of beautiful 1st place trophies hand crafted by Dave Lettieri - 72 hr, 48 hr, 144 hr |
Postscript:
So this has so far focused on my perspective as a racer but
what I also want to talk about is my crew.
Because in this area, I was blessed beyond all measure. Some months ago, Dave Oakley reached out to
me about my next 6 day race and asked if I had crew. I sad “no – are you offering”?
“Yes”.
I knew Dave was going to be great… I just didn’t realize how
special he was.
What can I say about Dave?
He was my biggest cheerleader, he kept me focus and on pace. He got me everything I needed when I needed
it. He worked with me on goal revision
and on strategy as my race started to deteriorate. He butchered my shoes. He got me, without exception, every last
thing I needed with regard to food, hydration, clothing, information, when I
needed it. Above all, he let me run my
own race, set my own goals, and work with me on achieving them. He was my rock.
Thank you Dave. I am
humbled and awed by your support.
My cousin Rebecca as well.
She is the first family member to actually see me at a multi-day
event. She joined the crew on days 2 and
3 – I’m grateful she got to see me when I was still moving well. She got me fresh laundry after the rain
soaked outfits I’d planned for the next few days and when I had almost no dry
socks left.
People. They amaze you.
I had more issues with blisters than usual this race - possible because of the early humidity, heat and deluge rain. I didn't AVOID blisters, but I managed them. Got one the size of a second toe on day 2 which I lanced and RunGood. By day 3 I had Dave butcher my shoes to cut out the toe boxes and only ran in them for the rest of the race. Switched often between butchered Hokas and butchered Altras.
Sleep:
I got more sleep than in my last 6 day, but some of this was just because of the need to lie flat because of the lean. I think I could have gotten by with less had I been moving more comfortably. I still don't feel like i have this area remotely nailed. I am usually really good with either 20 or 90 minute "power" naps, but my last 20 minute power nap (definition: you hit the pillow and are IMMEDIATELY asleep for 20 mins) left me groggier than I started. Still more learning here - although I think every race is unique in the conditions that are handed to you.
Clothing:
I got this right. I was never truly uncomfortably cold - had enough layers even when walking slowly. This included hats, mittens, hand warmers, tights, buff, multiple layers. During the warmth of the day I generally stripped down to a jog bra. Ice bandanas kept me cool enough to keep moving on Days 1 and 2, which were much warmer than the rest of the week. Run skirts were comfortable and at night I could just pull on tights over them. Rain jacket was key. Garbage bag vest layer really helped during cold rain.
Garmin:
Amazingly, I kept it charged for the entire race by having Dave keep my portable battery charged, and just carrying that and hooking to my watch as needed.
I think that's it - but if anyone has any other logistical questions, let me know and I will answer.
Peace.
