The whole point of entering this race for me was to get me back on track. Back into running. Back to running weight. Back into the easy form I had in mid summer, where nothing hurt. Motivation, inspiration, raison d’etre, this race was to be all of those things for me.
On these fronts, it was a total failure before it even started..
But, as JH said about one of her first races after Leadville 100, the race did bring out in stark relief the undeniable fact that I hadn’t been running.
After Leadville, I decided I deserved 3 weeks off from running. I still did run a little here and there, but my totals for those weeks were around 15 miles. But this was my first wrong turn – not taking the time off, but my attitude about it. I saw it as some kind of entitlement, a gift I had earned, or maybe something I was getting away with, and to hell with anything trying to stop me.
Where did that attitude come from? Since when was a break from running outside (during one of the most beautiful fall seasons in ABQ ever) a
good thing?
But once the attitude gained a toe-hold, I refused to let it go. And the 3 week break stretched to 3 months. “It’s ok,” I thought, “my weekly 2.5 mile race times are still good. I’m losing a little fitness, but I can get it back. Besides, I’ve been traveling, and it’s hard to maintain a schedule. And my hips are still tight. And…” The litany of excuses kept me from really examining what was going on. I was listless.
Fast forward to Saturday. I had run a 22 miler at the end of Nov. and two 10 milers in December. And now I was heading out on a 31 mile course, undertrained, but at least well rested! I had entered thinking I might be able to finish in 6:10 or so, way back in October. But now, I only knew I’d finish. Though I desperately hoped I’d beat my time (7:01) from 2009, when this was my very first ultra. It would be great if I could squeak out a 6:20. I’d be really happy with anything around a 6:30, though, I decided. I felt a little disappointed at how I had maybe cheated myself out of a great race.
The first 10 miles are hilly, with lots of rocks and thankfully also pretty scenery. I just wanted to get through this section with a minimum of turned ankles. My left ankle was already stretched out and unhappy from turning it over and over again in Nov. and Dec. After running with KC and RT for the first few miles, I slowly pulled away as I followed a girl (“she’s my age,” I thought) and a guy. He was doing his first ultra. She had done this race as her first ultra after a couple of disastrous road marathon attempts. And, as they discussed races, her run history sounded a lot like mine. I learned that she had also done Leadville. Their pace was good for me. I then heard that she now was considering a Leadman attempt. Soon after that, they pulled off and stopped to admire a view.
I continued on. I wondered if the pair would pass me again as I got tired. A small seed of competitive-ness sent out shoots over the next 10 miles. “If LEADGIRL doesn’t pass me by Crossroads aid station at 21 miles, then I will do my best to not let her pass me.”
At 10 miles into the race, my feet hurt. My legs were tired. I’m sure I didn’t eat enough. In any case, I didn’t feel low in energy, I just felt like I was approaching my mileage expiration limit. The aid station at mile 15.5 came and went, without a sign of LEADGIRL. As I passed a guy around mile 16, he shouted – “way to go! go get ‘em! Turn on the afterburners, it’s time to give it all you’ve got!!”
Um, no, that would be the last 5 miles. Or maybe just the last 0.5 miles. I grinned.
In any race, after the halfway point is when I start passing people. Those who have gone out too fast, mostly. Even though I felt like I should stop, that my preparation wasn’t up for this run, I was still running past people. I brightened up a bit, as one after the other came into view, and I steadily ran them down. I couldn’t run with any intensity, but I was persistent. A couple of guys traded places with me, but I eventually left them behind too.
Crossroads aid station appeared through the mesquite brush. Ok, I guess I don’t have a thing to worry about. I’m feeling steady, and haven’t seen or heard that LEADGIRL. I’m doing fine, just fine. Coke please!
And as I stood there enjoying my second cup of coke, the LEADGIRL ran into the aid station.
Dang.
I gulped the coke, and left. I hoped that she hadn’t noticed me, that she wasn’t paying attention to the little competition I had built up in my brain. But now I had to do a little work. This 5 mile section comes after 10 miles of flat to rolling, rather smooth terrain that has lulled you into running along, not picking up your feet much. It is punctuated in the middle by three hills, rocky, and covered with nasty spiky stool plants.
If you don’t wake up, this section is also punctuated by curses as you stumble through rocks, ledges, ruts, and plants.
The first three miles are runnable. I tried to run, but I was tired. The coke sloshed in my belly. I didn’t want to pick up my feet, and I left a couple of German curses up there with the rocks. I heard a female voice echo behind me, laughing at something. Dang. I move a little faster. I’m starting to feel a little better when I hear behind me approaching footsteps as I climb the first hill. Crap.
The voice says, “You run like a GIRL!” It takes a moment before I convince myself that it is a male voice, that it is a voice I know, that it is, in fact, KC, who has caught me. Whew.
I let him go by, enjoying him tell me that he’s been really running since the halfway point, and it feels great. At first, I think maybe I’ll keep him in sight, but there is no chance of that going uphill. He is quickly gone. I pass 5 runners in the last 2 miles of this section, just hoping that LEADGIRL behind me is lulled into a slower pace by the slower runners. I try to spur myself on a bit. It's fun when I recognize the runners I'm passing as those who passed me at miles 3, 4, or 5 - and every one of the 5 runners I passed fell into that category. I stop hearing the female voice behind me. Is it a trick of the twisting trail, or has she dropped back?
I get to the 26.3 mile aid station (so 4.7 to go) and see DT spectating. I’m happy, I actually feel pretty good still. I kind of assumed that the wheels that were only rated for 15 miles would have come off by now, so I was pleasantly surprised. So pleased that I forgot about my little private competition, and didn’t watch for LEADGIRL.
As I left the aid station, I looked at my watch.
“Oh that is not good.” It read 5:32. I now wanted to finish under 6:30. I actually felt good enough, and that section had seem to go by so quickly, that I hoped, I thought, I expected my watch to read 5:10.
The next section has 2 miles of very slight uphill followed by a rather steep uphill mile. Then a nasty ledged 0.5 mile descent that I have never seen anyone run – everyone is inching down the rocky 2 feet high ledges to gritty slides on tired achy feet. Finally the last 1.2 miles is a gentle downhill on jeep road which is very runnable.
I consider myself weak on slight uphills, and weaker on steeper uphills. And now I needed to run them at a little better than 12:30 miles. That might sound awfully slow. And it is, really. But my garmin shows that after 26.3 miles, I was averaging 12:57 miles (with stops). So over that terrain, and at the end of the 31 miles, I’d have to do better than I had all race.
Ooops.
But I wanted it. I should be able to do this. It really isn’t fast at all. I ran the slight uphill, and pretended that it was flat, that I was just tired and needed to work harder. I saw people in front of me, and ran them down, always with a good job. I was still reduced to hiking the steeper parts. The gnarly descent wasn’t much faster.
Finally getting to the jeep road, I see I need to run less than 10 min miles to make it under 6:30. I didn’t remember the two ravines I had to climb down into and back out of. I tried to go faster, and found I could. The aid station at 30.5 miles showed up early according to Garmin, and I was relieved to think I probably had it in the bag. Unless the distance to the aid station is an approximation…. So I talk myself into running faster. Why not push it more, I’m almost there. Around the corner through the trees, I see a building. I am there!
In 6:28:57. I almost plow KC over at the finish line, as he had crossed 1.5 min in front of me.
Very pleased with how the last section went, I talk over the race with my friends. I look up, and not a minute after I’ve finished….
THAT LEADGIRL crosses the line. I clap for her, and congratulate her.
In the end, I think I got what I needed from Bandera, if not what I wanted. I feel energized to go out and run. Many goals remain even after I’ve finished 100 miles, but I can’t make them for free. JH was right, Bandera showed me that I truly haven’t been running. I didn’t “get” a 6:10. Because I didn’t earn it. It was still fun, and beautiful, and challenging. I still love running. So, all in all, an odd sort of success I feel good about.
Other things of note:
Oh, those dratted cedar/juniper trees. My allergies were killing me all weekend.Try taking Zyrtec before I get there.
The three hours of sleep I got Thursday night before the 6:35 am flight was not a wise choice.
The pepperoni pizza at the Kona Grill is too salty. Get something else next time.
Wearing 5fingers after the race felt really good.
Don't do the $15 race pasta dinner - since they've gotten larger and moved it to the senior center, the food is not great.
The River Oak Inn has repainted and cleaned up some. No more deer murals.
A handheld bottle is all that's needed.
A drop bag is nice to ditch clothing in, but not necessary.
Finish in 6:28:57. 18/54 women. 6/20 in AG. 90/189 overall.
If I want a chance at a prize, I'd need to run around 5:45.
Maybe.
