Jackpot 48 hour. How much do you want it?

 

Another 48-hour race is in the books.  Not my best, not my worst.  Which, I realized, is just fine.  It is what MOST races are going to be, outside of those select few magic races where everything goes your way.

This one wasn’t that.

I came into this race just 6 weeks off of a 6-day effort.  Anyone who’s done a 6-day knows that they require much recovery.  Mine was particularly tough, as I had an almost debilitating case of PF by the end of the 6-day that I have been vigorously rehabbing since the end of that race.  In the days and weeks prior to Jackpot, I was still experiencing regular residual heel pain and went into the race concerned that it could be a race killer.

Still, I ALSO came off of the 6-day race with a renewed faith in myself as a multi-day runner.  We’ve all been through COVID Year.  And COVID Year the Sequel.  Neither one of those did anything good for my racing.  Nor had a DNF at my last 48 hour, plus a DNF at Spartathlon.  Still, I have had a few wins this past year, including Angry Owl 24 hour, and Silver Moon 100 miler; just had a 3^rd place finish at Jed Smith, and recording my second fastest marathon ever.  So I knew I still had some good running in me.

Part of my problem mentally is the astounding success I saw just a couple of years ago.  That year, which included a 453 mile 6-day, a 202 mile 48-hour, and a successful Spartathlon finish, set a bar for success in my head that I really may never achieve again, given the changes that have occurred with my body and my energy as a 53 year old post-menopausal runner. Which means that regular solid performances that I would have been thrilled with prior to my best year now feel to me like failures.  It is hard, when you still have big goals, to realize that your best running days may be behind you.  It is even harder when your racing window is so short.  I didn’t even start doing ultras until 2015, but saw success relatively quickly.  It sort of feels like my racing performance graph is like the Omicron surge bell curve.  Quick up, quick down. 

It means that if I’m going to keep doing these races, I need to re-find what drove me before the thrill of an outstanding performance.

So – Jackpot.  This would be my 3^rd time running this race.  The first time got me my second best 48-hour performance and the overall win with 190 miles.  The second got me a spectacular DNF, curled up in a fetal position on the cool cool concrete by the culvert trying to escape a brutally hot and draining day, walking away with only 41 miles under my belt.  (I did go on a beautiful solo hike to Red Rock Canyon the next day, so the trip was by no means a complete loss).  This time, I was HOPING for big numbers, but in all honesty just wanted to escape the lure of the cool culvert and stay on the course, whatever the day brought me.

Jackpot is in the Nevada desert, not far from Vegas.  From a tourist perspective, it’s great, with Vegas and Red Rock Canyon nearby.  From a runner perspective, well – it is desert running.  Which means that for about 4-5 hours out of any 24, (6 if you’re lucky), you get temps that are JUST RIGHT.  Otherwise, it is either too hot, or too cold.  (Conversation with myself:  “God it’s hot.  God it’s hot.  I wish the sun would go down.  When is the fucking sun going to go down.  Ahhhh, thank God, the sun is going down.  This is nice.  This is great.  Shit this is cold.  Good god DAMN it’s cold.  I’m fucking freezing.  Maybe I need to run more to stay warm.  When is the fucking sun going to come up.  Ah thank god, the sun is coming up.  OK this is nice.  Shit I’m getting warm.  God damn it’s hot.  That sun is brutal.   I can’t even RUN it’s so hot.  I am literally melting.  My castle for a milkshake.  When is the fucking sun going to go down….”  And so on.

The other thing about Jackpot is Elvis.  And showgirls.  There is plenty of fun to be had.  There are several races going on at once, so you get to cross paths with the USATF 100-mile runners as well as the 72 hour, 24 hour, and 12 hour runners. 

BJ had driven into Vegas and arrived early Thursday morning.  I flew in from Santa Rosa with, thankfully, relatively little delay, and arrived late afternoon.  On the plane to Vegas, I sat next to a gentleman who started talking to me about my trip.  I had told him I was flying in for a race, and we started talking about it.  Turns out this guy had participated in a world record attempt for playing softball longer than anyone – 56 hours, it turned out.  He said…  “it’s all about how much you want it.” 

Truer words were never said.

I saw the man one more time, heading to baggage claim in Vegas.  He leaned in and whispered “how much do you want it?”

BJ picked me up at the airport and we checked into our swanky hotel on the strip.  We ended up staying at the Paris hotel, as it was geographically where I wanted to be.  Right across from the Bellagio light show, and down just a few blocks from the Venetian – but not as pricey as either of those. 

I love that light show.

We went out in search of dinner shortly after our arrival, wandering down the nicer end of the strip.  We tried the Bellagio first, because I really wanted to check out the buffet.  Turns out the buffet was only open for breakfast/brunch, and had closed at 3.  We threw some money in the slots before heading back out.  

I, of course, was thinking that every single restaurant we saw should be our next stop (I was kinda food focused), but BJ wanted to show me the Venetian, and the really cool shopping section he remembered from a previous trip.  So, after passing by such goodies as Giada, Gordon Ramsey’s steakhouse, and Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville, we arrived at the Venetian and made our way up the moving bridge-like walkways into the center of the complex.  Which was truly magnificent for anyone who is as thrilled with Disney-esque eye candy as I was.  The ceilings were painted realistically to look like an outdoor sky, and there was a canal complete with gondoliers running through the middle.  We happened upon an Italian place BJ remembered from his last trip and had an excellent meal with lots of bread and homemade pasta.  We turned down the restaurant dessert in favor of nearby gelato.  Heading back to the hotel, we first stopped at “It’s Sugar” where I spent a blissful 20 minutes filling up my variety candy bag, and then arrived back at the hotel casino where we only lost a modest amount of cash in the slots before a good night’s sleep.

It is a rare thing that I sleep in until 8, but that is just what I did.  It was disconcerting and wonderful. 

The worst thing about staying in a Vegas strip hotel is that none of them have coffee makers, forcing you to pull on clothes and wander bleary-eyed down to the restaurant area where you can pay a king’s ransom for a cup of joe.  ($15 for one coffee and one hot chocolate.)   I knew that if we were going to ever get to the Bellagio buffet, it had to be for Friday morning brunch.  Dinner would be too close to my race for any sort of respectable gorging, and there would be no time afterwards between the race end and my flight.  So off to the Bellagio we went again.  A boatload of dough down for breakfast for 2 including tip got us the works. It is kind of impossible to describe this buffet, but the things I remember include a carving station complete with prime rib, an omelet station, pancakes, waffles, french toast, sushi, oysters Rockefeller, mussels in white wine and garlic sauce, mac & cheese, bacon, all sorts of sausages, cheeses, mushrooms, yogurt, polenta with beef marrow, fruit of all sorts, juices of all sorts, a pizza bar, a Chinese food buffet, shrimp, blintzes, crepes,  pastries of all sorts, mini donuts, puddings, a dessert section (cookies, mini pecan pie, mini chocolate peanut butter tarts), and gelato.  I paced myself well and ended up with a total of 4 plates.

Next stop was Caesar’s palace, where I was told the cocktail waitresses all had short white dresses and thick thighs just like the roman statue babes.  This I wanted to see.  Alas the cocktail waitresses were in short supply – we only saw one and her legs were really thin.  However, there was some great statuary and a circular escalator, so it was a win.  Onward to the “Bodies” exhibit at Bally’s, followed a really cool ride called “Flyover” which was a virtual reality ride that made you feel as if you were truly flying over Iceland.  No trip to Vegas is complete without a visit to the various chocolate and candy shops.  I had loads of fun filling up my bag at the M&M store and “It’s sugar” (where they had a $150 gummy snake).  Oh my.  And the best thing was…  I knew I was about to run for 2 days, so all of this was just fuel for the furnace.

My buddy Rachel Entrekin arrived around 6.  She was a last minute add to the race and was looking forward to surprising Jill with her arrival.  We ended up at Giordano’s for deep dish pizza, followed by a little sugar splurge at “It’s Sugar” before heading back to the hotel to finalize race preparations.

I’ve done enough of these that I can usually sleep, but I didn’t sleep well at all.  I think I was a bit dehydrated from all the salt in dinner, so only managed a delayed and light sleep all night.  I was groggy waking up, but pretty much on auto-pilot with my clothes all laid out.  Our departure was pretty seamless, getting us to the race venue about 55 minutes before race start.  It didn’t feel like enough time but I got my stuff in order as quickly as I could, and, feeling not quite ready, lined up for the start.

And off we went.

There are times where I dread the beginning of a race, but as soon as I start running, I know why I do this and pretty quickly feel the joy in motion.

This was not that kind of race.

I think the best thing you can say about the early hours is that it was not TOO hot, and it was not TOO painful.  Miles were consistent, in the low 11’s, which is kind of a perfect starting out pace.  However, they felt a little less easy than I would have preferred. 

(how much do you want it?)

I ran without music for a few hours, just so I could talk to people and not be stuck in my own world.  At some point, I needed motivation, and stuck the tunes on.  It helped make the time pass a little bit faster.

The 2 times I’ve bailed from a 48 hour race were both between 40 and 50 miles, so I’d already put a plan into place to try to avoid that scenario again.  Each time, I’d get to about 8 hours or so, and the thought would occur to me of JUST how much LONGER I had to go.  And I wanted no part of it.  As I told my brother, when I called him up mid-bail during my last Jackpot…  “This is stupid.  I don’t want to be an ultra runner.  I just want to be a regular runner”.  It truly is a “What the fuck am I doing out here” moment – I’m not having any fun, and I could be doing something else for the next 40 hours.  ANYTHING else. 

To try to avoid this, I worked with my coach Shannon, who advised me that “chunking” was really the only way to go in a long race.  Which is to say… never (NEVER) focus on the entire 48 hours in front of you.  Break it up into manageable chunks, and just focus on getting through that chunk.  Don’t even THINK about the next chunk.

I decided my chunks were going to be 6 hours long.  I also very pointedly did NOT set any mileage goals for any of the chunks.  They were merely mental time periods to click off.  The reason I did this is that the OTHER reason I get discouraged around hour 8 or 9 is that this is when I typically slow down.  It is almost invariably sooner than I feel like I SHOULD slow down, so it triggers thoughts like “OMG.  That was a 12 (12:30, 13, 14) minute mile!  I suck!  I’m never going to hit (whatever goal). “  So another part of the chunking was to just let my mileage be what it was going to be during that chunk, recognizing that things could improve during the next chunk.

Running for a few minutes with Bruce Choi

Considering I was able to get through 3 chunks, or roughly 18 hours, before I started experiencing anything close to the joy I often feel in this sport, it was a good strategy.

The ambient temperature was fortunately significantly cooler than when I had been here last year in April, but the sun was blinding, the air was dry and the course was dusty.  Relatively early on I shed my shirt and ran in my jog bra, using ice bandanas to stay cool enough to keep moving.  The challenge with the ice bandana and the jog bra was that my wet pack was rubbing against my bare stomach, so I had to do some chafe management before that got too bad.

As almost always happens, during the speedier hot miles of day 1, I really couldn't eat much of anything.  There were a couple of popsicles handed out during the race, and sometime later in the evening BJ went out and got me a large Dairy Queen milkshake that was finally something I could ingest comfortably.

During the first 24 hours, I ended up taking 2 sleep breaks.  The first was just a 20 minute power nap probably shortly after midnight.  Probably not strictly necessary but the nerve pain in my feet and calves was pretty uncomfortable and I just felt I needed to get off my feet.  I moved pretty well after getting back on the course, but not as quickly or strongly as I would have liked, so I decided on a “for real” sleep of about 90 minutes.  This is a new strategy for me in a 48, having relied previously on severe sleep deprivation.  Had I really been laser focused on a big number I probably would have foregone the longer sleep – but I think I had already revised my goal for this race to get the women’s win, as well as a regular Spartathlon qualifier (about 161.5 miles), so I thought the sleep wouldn’t interfere with either of those goals.

(how much do you want it?)

From a “joy” perspective, the sleep was a good thing.  It helped with the mental “chunking” and allowed me to go out feeling relatively refreshed. The joy finally arrived somewhere close to early morning.  The temperature was comfortable enough with the right clothing, I was moving well, the music was good, and I had 20 hours under my belt.  I hadn’t bailed at 8 hours, so I was pretty sure I’d make it through the 48, and I was optimistic about the next day. 

I hit 100 miles just 15 seconds shy of 24 hours.  For perspective, when I'd hit my PR of 202, I had 113 under my belt.  However, this 100 in 24 was pretty close to my split for my 190 mile Jackpot.

Hit 100 in 23:59:45

For anyone who's never run a multi-day, there there are things that happen that I always forget about.

Sometime many hours into running, things just start to get weird.  For example, my entire midsection gets rock hard and painful.  It is kind of like gas bubble pain but different.  Like my entire abdomen just feels tender to the touch.  I have no idea what that is, but it happens with regularity.

I often get anxiety and some dissociation – as if I don’t know who I am.

If the multi-day is in the sun, count on super chapped lips, followed generally by both thrush and/or a cold sore, no matter how well I treat my lips with sunscreen.  1-2 (sometimes more) post-race days of mouth pain are a given.

Nerve pain in my feet.  This one is no big surprise when you are running big miles.  In this race, I managed it with regular shoe changes, going back and forth between my zero drop Altra Torins and my 5mm drop Hoka Machs.  This plus the pre-race Plantar Fasciitis tape job I did seemed to do an astoundingly good job of not only keeping the PF manageable during day 1, but almost eliminating it during day 2.  I remembered from my last desert Jackpot race how cracked and painful my feet were at the end of the race due to the dryness, so I made sure to liberally lube up my feet at the 24 hour mark to prevent the cracking.  I also did a good job of keeping my nails short and lubed, so I had zero under-nail blistering, which also often happens.

 I had some really really good miles early into day 2.  I had some caffeine, some food and some ibuprofen.  This brought me from my nighttime speed of 15-16 minute miles back down regularly into the 13:30’s, and a few in the 12’s.  I’d say physically and mentally that was the most joyous time of the race.  I was steady, the race was half over, I was comfortable and moving. 

And then it got hot.  And everybody… EVERYBODY… was walking.  (Except Viktoria Brown.)  BJ suggested I might take advantage of the heat by taking my nap now instead of later – but I wasn’t even a little bit sleepy, so it felt like that would just be wasted time.  I could get daytime miles in – they would just be 18-20 minute miles.  I was still throwing in some jogs when I could – but they were pretty pitiful.  I was just trying to get to 4:00, which I figured was the magic time when the temperature would improve enough to start moving again.

(how much do you want it?)

4:00 eventually came, as did cloud cover and a breeze that brought the temperature back into some semblance of runnable.  Still, I was only achieving 16-17 minute miles and I didn’t know why.  It occurred to me that I was probably dehydrated, but no matter how much I drank (and I drank enough for a worried BJ to demand I take some salt to avoid hyponatremia), I just didn’t seem to get any faster.

OK, well, whatever. 

Night 2 was much warmer than night 1, but also much breezier.  I passed the time for hours listening to the Cultra Trailrunning podcast, where I actually heard them talking about my ATY race.  That was kind of a cool moment – to hear someone talking about my last race when I was smack in the middle of my next one. 

The wind continued to worsen, making it hard at times to move forward.  At this point, I had about a 9 lap lead on the number 2 woman, which probably translated into about 20 miles, or a cushion of 5 or so hours assuming I was running nothing, and she was moving at 15 minute miles.  So, with the discomfort of the wind, my slow pace, my general weariness of the whole thing, and no real big mile goals at this point besides my 161.5, I went down for another nap.  I figured I could safely be off course for an hour, and then I’d power through the rest of the race.

(how much do you want it?)

The wind, by this time, was howling and whipping the edges of the tent we were fortunate enough to snag as an aid station.  You could hear things being blown over nearby.  I was out like a light, and woke up easily after 45 minutes.  The worst thing about getting up from a nap at night is the instant cold when you take the blankets off.  Going out into the night and getting moving again is just about the hardest thing there is.  Still, there was the joy in knowing that I only had 4 hours left, and that I’d get to watch the sunrise again. 

I spent a bit of time with my new friend Luke – a trail runner who was venturing into his first multi-day.  His comment:  “man – I’m one and done.  You guys must really hate yourselves.”

Got that right.

Luke is a great guy.

Sunrise came, and the wind was still a force to be reckoned with. 

The best thing about the Jackpot course is the birds on the lake.  I believe the entire park is a bird sanctuary, so there were really interesting looking black ducks with white beaks, geese and other waterfowl just birding around, having a great time in the water.  When the sun started to come up, the lake was dappled with pink and yellow ripples, punctuated by duck and goose calls.  The sunrise also highlighted a snowcapped mountain in the distance.  Everything was soft, pink and beautiful.  This is when the gratitude hits.

A couple of hours prior to the end of the race, it appeared that 170 was in sight.  I started walking with my good friend Bala, grateful to finally have the chance to spend some miles together.  One of the best things about multi-day races are those hours close to the end, where you have pretty much done all you are going to do with regard to pushing, and you can relax and enjoy the people.  It is impossible to do that if you are spending every moment chasing a goal. 

(how much do you want it?)

Bala and I walked, joined shortly by Jennifer.  We crossed the timing mat 64 minutes before the end of the race, and I saw I'd just hit 167.3 miles.  At that point, our laps were probably about 45 minutes in length, as we were doing about 20 minute miles and the course was 2.2 miles long.  This meant that EITHER I’d end up with 169.5, OR I’d have to bust ass and run faster than I’d run for the past 12 hours during the last hour to break 170.  Michael Tatham, who assisted BJ in crewing me, let me know what the only choice was.  “Well – better get moving.”.

“I can’t do it Michael.  I can’t.  That’s a 30 and a 34 minute lap.”

“Yes you can”.

“No.  I can’t.”

Silence.

I turn to Bala, and said “I can’t do it!”

She said… “well… then I guess this is our victory lap.”  She didn’t sound all that proud of me.  

Grrr.  OK.  Fine.

(how much do you want it?)

I start running and tell Bala I’ll see her soon.  I run steady, maybe a quarter of a mile (more continuous running mileage than I’ve put down all night), before walking.  I walked only long enough to put on the music I knew I’d need to get this done.  Start running again.  Got that first mile out of the last 4.4 in a 12:22.  Kept running.  Second mile 11:37.  Got the first loop done in 24 minutes, leaving me with 40 minutes for the last lap.  I realized I wasn't sure if  BJ was awake yet from his well deserved nap, and I knew he'd want to see me finish, having contributed so much toward this moment, so coming through the timing mat I yelled to Michael to make sure BJ was up because I was on my last lap.  Mile 3 was an 11:55.  Mile 4 was 13:01.  Less than half a mile to go – came through the timing mat with 171.7 mile total, and about 12 minutes left on the clock.

It was done. 

Lap splits at the end of the race

I finished 1st woman, and 2nd overall.  As noted in the beginning, not my best, not my worst.  

And now I have some reflection to do.  Because it turns out, when I had some major motivation to run fast, as I did in the last 64 minutes, it was all right there.  I could pull some respectable lap paces.  Hell, more than respectable.  

I knew what motivation looks like.  It looks like Viktoria Brown, who kept constant the entire race.  Clearly she was hurting.  But she had the motivation that I, at the moment, lack.  

I don't want it badly enough for that kind of pain.  For giving up the conversations with my friends.  For the comfort of 20 minutes of sleep, or for just 5 more minutes eating my burger.  

At least... I didn't want it badly enough in THIS race.

I know runners who only value records as a valid race goal.  And certainly, I'd love a record.  But when the big goal becomes out of reach, I'd like to have a better way of keeping a high bar and wanting it badly enough.  The example here?  202 is my 48 hour PR, and clearly that wasn't going to happen.  190 was my Jackpot PR.  That probably COULD have happened.  Cut some of those 18 minute miles down to 15.5 by focusing more on lap pace; cut the 75 minute sleep down to 20.  Understand that my head controls my body.  Once I knew this.

(how much do you want it?)

Nonetheless, I view this as another success in that I spent an enormous amount of time really not feeling like I wanted to be where I was - yet I persevered.  I revised my goals and I'd say I achieved my C Goal.  And although I said I "didn't want that kind of pain" with regard to aiming for a record, this race was not remotely without pain.  I was in relatively constant pain from early on in the race, with foot nerve pain, hip pain, and some pretty special calf pain.  But I worked through it and kept on keeping on.

In the end, it is about the people.  The relationships with the Balas and the Karlas and the Lukes.  The support from crew and loved ones and the race directors.  And the awe of watching tremendous performances and records being set.

 

 

ATY 2021 - Relentless Forward Progress

Once upon a time, I was kinda good at multi-days.

Then, job challenges, moving, big life changes, and, well, COVID year. 

After a previous slew of multi-day successes, I DNF'd a 48 hour at ATY in December of 2019, had a really challenging 6 day race at 3 Days at the Fair in Fall of 2020, where I developed the lean early on day 4, and subsequently DNF'd a 48 hour at Jackpot in April of 2021, leaving the brutally hot course to go hiking at Red Rock Canyon.  (Quote from my on-course call to my brother right before dropping out:  "I don't want to be an ultra runner - I just want to be a regular runner.").  So, going into ATY , it had been almost 2 years since any sort of successful multi-day.  Added on to this was my DNF at Spartathlon, failing to make the cut-off at 41 miles.  My confidence was not what you would call high

Still, I've had a couple of successful races this year.  Got first place female finish at Silver Moon 100 in the spring, followed by first place female at Angry Owl in Oregon along with the course record.  Finished Javalina in about 26 hours, and had a great joy run at TGNY in June.  So, 2021 was a mixed bag.  

My first 6 day at ATY was 2018/2019, where I set the female course record and hit 453 miles, for a world age-group record.  I went into this 2021 race with a few goals.  Super super stretch A goal (call at A+++), was 500 miles.  Pace plan for this was 95 on day 1, followed by 81's every other day.  It sounds good on paper, but anyone who has run a 6 day knows that 81 on the later days of the race is pretty tough to achieve.  Goal A was 475, which would be a female road record, and B goal was anything over my previous 453 - or a personal best.  C Goal was anything over 400. 

Really, all of these represented success to me as long as I stayed on the course and did my best.  

My biggest physical concerns going into the race were the possibility of getting the "lean" again, and the question of whether or not my nagging plantar fasciitis would become an issue.  Other than that, I was in good race shape, having just run a fast almost PR marathon a few weeks prior, and feeling healthier and stronger than when I went into Spartathlon in September.

Sue Scholl was originally going to crew me, but she had a work project unexpectedly come up, so I was going to be on my own.  This is doable, but requires more organization and planning.  I was going to be sharing an RV with Seattle beast Jill Hudson and her friend Jennie.  This set-up allowed all of us to both have a bed, as well as a bunk or shelf where we could have all of our race things laid out.

For a 6 day in the desert, where weather can (and usually does) include hot, cold, and rain, you need lots of clothing.  Essentially at least 6 sets of hot weather clothes, medium weather clothes, and cold weather clothes - plus rain gear.  I always bring at least 3 pairs of shoes, and also brought about 5 different types of inserts in order to switch things up if my feet started giving me trouble.

Travel to the race was a nightmare.  My plan had been to arrive early on 12/26 which would give me that day to relax and sightsee, and then more of the same, plus race prep on 12/27, followed by race start on 12/28.  Alas, that was not to be.  I ended up spending 14 hours in the San Francisco airport and did not arrive to my hotel in Phoenix until close to midnight on 12/26.  My plan was to sleep until I woke up the next morning naturally, snag breakfast and a shake-out run, then get organized for the race.

I slept well, breakfasted well (my hotel had a little pancake maker!  Love those!), and met my new friend Cole for a 5 mile run.  He lives in Phoenix - I'd met him after Javalina, and we went to a local park.  Normally my first run after an airplane ride is crap, so I was stunned and thrilled to average a 10 minute per mile easy pace with bouncy legs.  

I touched based with RV bunkmates Jill Hudson and Jenny Appel.  Their flight, like mine, was now experiencing delays, so I was charged with meeting the RV people when they arrived on the course.  The RV arrived and got set up, and I focused my nervous energy on organizing my race things in the RV for easy non-crewed access.  Soon enough, it was time for dinner, and my last hotel sleep before race start.

I've done enough of these now that I was able to get decent sleep without thinking too much about what was ahead.  That is my general coping strategy:  ignore my imminent reality until the race starts, and then, well, it's too late.  

Breakfast included more adorable pancakes, and an early arrival to the race course.  I hung with Jill for a bit, got dressed, and went over to the starting line about 20 minutes prior to Go-time.  It left just enough time to say hi to all my old friends, without too much getting nervous time. 

Hanging at the race start

Day 1 was smooth and relatively easy.  I had gone in well rested and the miles just ticked off.  I put my feet up for a few minutes when I hit 50, at about 10 hours.  I got off course at 90 miles to rest, with a plan to get in the last 5 after the sleep.  I managed that plus 3, all while feeling I wasn't going too hard.  The hardest thing about day 1 was the rain.  It drizzled all day.  The drizzle itself wasn't a problem, as the temperature was mild and the rain wasn't too hard.  I generally don't mind running in the rain, and didn't this time either.  The problem was the mess that it made of the course.  The course is largely packed dirt - which means that run turns it into a muddy slippery mess.  There were also many potholes that turned into little lakes.  Many runners were trying to assiduously avoid the puddles, but I just splashed right through them.  There was really no point in trying to keep my shoes dry - it was impossible, and in fact sometimes the cool water was soothing on my feet.  Still, it meant that my shoes were caked in mud, and my socks were trashed.  I'd need to pay more attention to foot care to avoid blisters, and would definitely need more socks than I had brought.

Day 2 plan was a total of 81 miles, but I had already banked 3 in the 8-9am hour, so really, just 78 before rest.  Again, this came relatively easily.  I was starting to get fatigued on day 2, but nothing I couldn't work through. The course was starting to dry out, which was nice.  However, Friday (day 4) was forecasted to be a downpour all day, so we were all painfully aware that the dry course would likely be temporary.  I was thrilled that after 2 days, I was still solidly on pace plan.  Day 2 is always rough emotionally, and it is hard to say why.  Maybe it is because the newness of day 1 has worn off, and you still have so much time to be out on the course.

The morning of day 3 felt great.  I'd had a solid nap about 10 miles before the end of Day 2 miles, and that plus foot care, ibuprofen and some caffeine made the morning tremendously happy.  I ran solidly for what felt like hours, just in the zone, listening to my music. I was, however,  definitely slowing down a bit.  This is not at all suprising - negative splits in 6 day races are rare, and slow down is to be expected.  This was probably the day I mentally slipped from A+++ goal of 500 to A goal of 475.  At this point, I was solidly on track for that, and was still feeling confident.  And, one of the cool things that happened on Day 3 was hitting the 200 mile mark.  I was fortunate to be close to some of the fun runners I'd been spending time with, and they escorted me across the timing mat for my 200 lap.

The 200 mile crazy train

I think it was the evening of Day 3 where my first major issue occurred.  I was playing around with my sleep schedule and I decided to go down for my long nap a bit earlier to see if it might help.  This turned out to be a really bad call.  First of all, I wasn't sleepy enough to sleep.  So, after taking the time to address feet, change clothes, and do all of the things you do in the long break, I lay there unable to get the restorative sleep I needed.  Secondly, I checked out Facebook and saw a post about the status of the 6 day race, and comments regarding specifically my performance as compared to that of the runner who was currently in second.  The gist was that I might be in first place now, but that due to my dodgy sleep strategy, I likely wouldn't be by the end of the race.

This did nothing to help me sleep.  Nor did it do anything for my confidence.  Regardless of the fact that I knew my sleep strategy was fine (as long as I GOT the sleep I went down for), it was disheartening to see that forecast.

After 2 restless frustrated hours, I went back out on the course to get the rest of the day's miles.  Because I hadn't slept, the speed burst that normally comes after a good sleep didn't come, and the miles were slower and fewer than planned.  Day 4 dawned and I was just feeling tired and hurting.

Day 4 was the day it was supposed to pour all day.  It dawned cloudy and cool, and because of the forecast I stayed in my tights and long sleeve shirt.  However, sometime mid morning instead of raining, the sun came out and it got unexpectedly hot.  So instead of getting soaked and maintaining a comfortable temperature, I was battling heat and some relatively brutal sunshine.

Because I kept expecting the rain, I never actually changed my clothes to deal with the unexpected conditions.  The best I could do quickly to deal with the heat was to take off my long sleeve shirt, so I found myself running in black tights and a jog bra.  Stupidly, I also forgot my hat, and I never put on sunscreen.  These are all things a crew might have kept my on track with, but on my own, my brain was getting mushy.  I therefore spent the morning of day 4 getting progressively more overheated and sunburned.  Adding to the discomfort was the overall "unwell" feeling that occurs after breathing through your mouth for over 250 miles in the desert.  I felt flu-ish, hot then cold, having a horrible time maintaining any steady body temperature.  I was headachey with some cold sweats.  These symptoms in the time of COVID suck, because they could be anything.  I knew it was perfectly normal to feel this way during a multi-day, because I've felt it every time.  Still, there was a lingering question of whether or not I truly was getting sick.  (Jump to post race - tested negative).

The miles on day 4 came agonizingly slowly.  It was as if this horrible day was in slow motion.  I had pretty much resigned myself to losing first place.  I didn't see how I could maintain it, feeling the way I felt.  My coach texted me earlier in the day with a pep talk, giving me the splits I'd need to hit to stay on goal for the 75.  I knew they were impossible, so I just gave her a thumbs up and ignored her.

Sometime late in that awful day, I caught up with Marie Boyd and had a chat.  I told her I was exhausted and that my speed was suffering.  Which is to say... there was none.  If I stayed out on the course without getting some restorative sleep, I'd just steadily lose ground to the other women who currently were significantly faster.  Marie agreed that at this point sleep was imperative.  I might lose a couple of hours on the course, but it was crucial that I refill the energy tank.

After I hit the 50 mile mark on what I had originally hoped would be a 75 mile day, I resigned myself to a long rest.  With a huge sense of relief, I went into the RV, and did all of the self care things.  Foot care, clothing change, food/drink, and finally, blessed sleep.  This time, unlike the previous night, it came quickly and soundly.  I set my alarm to allow myself 3 hours, but after a little over 2 hours of sleeping like I'd been drugged, I woke up wide awake, alert, and optimistic.  I can't even begin to describe how much better I felt.

Downed some caffeine, pulled on my clothes, and headed out.  

Oh.  My.  Goodness.  This was happy making.  So, too, was my knowledge that the other 2 lead women were still sleeping - so as long as I was out on the course, I was banking miles into the lead.  

The hours on day 5 just ticked by.  The weather was sunny but cool and breezy.  Really, the first perfect running weather we'd had for the entire race.  Tom Jackson's wife M'Lee generously bought me a hat and some aloe, so I was able to both prevent sunburn that day and address the burn I already had.  The biggest issue that started to occur on day 5 was the steady deterioration of my feet.

I'd struggled with plantar fasciitis in the months prior to the race, and although I kept it manageable, I never really chased it away.  By day 5, I was starting to experience some pretty significant heel pain.  Also, I was getting some impressive nerve pain in both feet - they constantly felt like they were on pins and needles, with some numbness in my left toes.  It felt like there was grit under my socks, even when I had a fresh change of socks and shoes.  

Because of the previous day's poor mileage, and because of how my feet felt, I'd ratcheted down my goal to just exceeding 400 miles, and maintaining the women's win.  This was looking pretty doable on both fronts, but I was starting to get concerned about where Sandra was.  Sandra had been steady on my tail for 4 days now, and I had every expectation for a while that she would pass me - but as of 11:00 on Thursday morning I still didn't see her out on the course, and I was getting worried.  I texted her but didn't hear back.  

Sometime in the next hour, I saw her.  We hugged, and both cried.  Turns out her day 4 was as shitty as mine.  These things are all mental, and she'd had a rough night.  But, now she was back to do what she was here to do, and I was glad to see her get in her zone.

For anyone who doesn't know her, Sandra Vii is a world class badass.  She won Badwater in 2017, and has the female record for a transcontinental crossing of the United States.  She podiumed at the Dome in 2019, and then came back and won it in 2021 with 422 miles.  Also... she is a truly amazing human being.  On day 5 we spent a bit of time running laps together, and I got to hear a bit of her story.  She is humble, powerful, and one of the best runners I've ever seen.  If there is anything I am truly grateful for about this 6 day race, it is having had the privilege of running with this wonderful woman.

Sharing a lap with Sandra Vii

This is not to diss the other amazing woman pushing me to continue.  Andrea Mehner came into ATY without any previous multi-day experience.  I had raced against her before, at FarmDaze 24 hour in Georgia.  She won by a couple of miles.  She came into ATY with the absolute right attitude for a first 6 days - which was, to just be out there for as many miles as she could do a day - and then get solid sleep at night.  She was regularly off the course for 6-7 hours each day - far more than me.  However, when she was ON the course, her miles were incredibly fast.  She was ticking off regular 14 minute laps, while I was trying to maintain 16-18 minute laps.  Truly a remarkable performance.

Some of the other folks who I was thrilled to spent time with include Aussies Marie Boyd (73 yo, 10 day) and Annabel Hepworth (72 hour winner), Seattle babes Jill Hudson, Jenny Appel (72 hours), and my bud Rachel Entrekin (48 hours), Florida phenom Lisa Devona (OMG! speedy!  48 hr winner); Terrie Wurzbacher (73 yo and in for 10 days!).  I'd gotten to share laps with Tom Jackson, a Spartathlon teammate and with whom I will run the Berlin Wall 100 in August, and with legend John Geesler.  Witt Wisebram, who also shared the podium with Andrea and I at Farmdaze, was in for 10 days and going through his own spiritual journey.  Van Phan is an ultra legend - she was the women's leader in the 10 day, and was here with Mikey Sklar -  a truly wonderful human being and Van's SO whom she met 2 years ago at ATY.  My new friend Chad, my friend Steve Tuttle, my new friend Eddie Fackler who was running 200 miles after losing 200 pounds.  So many wonderful people.  I'm sure I'm missing folks and it is unintentional - I love you all.

A lap with Rachel Entrekin and Mark McCaslin

Scott Thompson, Rachel Entrekin and I

Anyway, back to the race.  Mid-day Day 5, Sandra's husband went out and got us lunch from Culvers, and Sandra and I took 30 minutes off course to chow down.  I had a double burger with cheese, onion rings, and a huge diet coke.  It.  Was.  Heaven.  I had no problem stuffing in a few more french fries since Sandra didn't want all of hers.  I was thinking I'd take a quick 20 minute power nap after the big lunch (sleep does great things when combined with food) but realized that my phone was in the charging station in the warming tent so I had no way to wake myself up.  Charging devices was another thing that was a little more challenging without crew, as I had to managing getting devices hooked up, unhooked and back in my possesion - which took a bit of time.  Anyway, without my phone, I had to keep going and stay on course.

As decent as my mood was on day 5, I truly was having trouble with my feet.  The pain was relatively constant - it was just a matter of how severe it was at any point in time.

Still, I was on pace for the women's win, as long as I stayed the course.

Day 6 was all about foot management.  Once again, the miles came painfully slowly.  I knew I'd be hitting 400 miles sometime on day 6 and expected it to be sometime around midnight.  But even slow 20 minute laps were eluding me.  I think I probably changed my shoes 20-25 times day 6.  Pretty much every lap.  I'd dart into the RV, pull on some other combo of shoes and inserts, and hobble back out.  Really, nothing was working.  The heel pain was awful, as were the pins and needs of nerve pain.  Finally, I pulled on my oofo sandles and started walking in those.  Those were the best miles I got during the day.  I was actually able to jog/walk for a bit in the foamy flip flops.  I just needed to watch my footing to ensure I didn't trip or stub my toe. 

Shoe surgery day 6

I took a power nap about 6 miles before 400 miles.  As much as I wanted to power through to 400, I was just too exhausted.  It was my plan to get a decent 2 hours of sleep after 400, and then go straight through until the race end.  And this was what I did.

Jill gave me a pair of her Hokas that were a size bigger than mine.  They proved to be the magic bullet in that I didn't have to change them every lap.  My goal after waking up from my post 400 mile nap was to land somewhere between 410 and 415.  

With Jill Hudson and Rick Haas

I think I forgot to mention just how cold it was nights 5 and 6.  Once the rain was gone from the forecast, the temperature at night plummeted.  Night 5 was below freezing, and night 6 was in the 30's.  So one of the challenges was clothing choice.  If you wear clothes that are comfortable for a walking pace, you get overheated if you run.  If you dress to run, then you freeze your ass off if you are reduced to a walk.  There is really no winning.  I chose to wear pretty much every piece of warm clothing that I had, and every once in a while would burst into a jog just to warm up.  Although my feet at this point felt well enough to run more laps, there wasn't any need in order to meet current goal, and I didn't want to do any more foot damage.  At this point, due to Jill's larger shoes, I had a significant hot spot on the bottom of my left foot that was transforming into a sizeable blister. Sometime in the middle of the night my strategy became "a lap an hour".  During this special time, I walked with John Geesler, with Tom Jackson, with Sarah Emoto and Dennis Williams, with Marie Boyd, and with Jill.  And, I did end up getting in more than a lap an hour.  The time in between laps was spend thawing out in the warming tent, and eating all the food.  The starving kicked in.  At 4am I had 2 blueberry pancakes, followed by 2 more the next lap.

Rachel Belmont arrived in the morning hours with a breakfast sandwich and hot chocolate, so enjoyed a bit of second breakfast with her arrival.  Rachel and Cole had come to the course several times to bring me sustenance and cheer.  Cole works at a pizza parlor, so earlier in the race I'd been gifted with a pizza.  Rachel also brought a box of magic donuts (magic because they improved my speed by 4 minutes per mile for several hours!) earlier in the race.  Mucho thanks to their race support, as they were also busy with events in their own lives!

Rachel brought me lots of goodies!

As the last 2 hours often are, they were magical.  There is something in knowing that you will soon be off of this hamster wheel and back in the real world again.  Doing things like knitting, and baking, and showering, and sleeping in a clean bed!  Being... a normal person.  There is a quiet joy in knowing that you have done what you set out to do - maybe not in terms of total mileage, but in terms of giving it everything you've got.  You have faced every problem that has come before you in the 6 day period and come up with the best solutions you are able to devise in the moment.  You gain inspiration and stength from your comrades in arms.  You share stories, and wisdom, and heartache.  You cry with each other.  You laugh, oh so much, with each other.  You get silly; you get serious and somber.  You get reflective.

I am happy to say I left only 8 minutes on the clock, and I ran it in to the finish line.  414.911 miles, first woman.  It was done.  My 3rd 6-day.  Not as strong as my first, but nowhere near as broken as my last.  Good enough to make me think I need to give it another go.  

At the award ceremony with Andrea Mehner