Not long after I finished Ironman Louisville, my coach Vince and I talked to discuss what was next.
“I want you to run a 50k,” he said.
“Squeeeeeeaaaaaaallllllll!!!!”
I was so excited, and so very loud in my exclamation. I do feel optimistic that Vince will regain full hearing at some point.
Prior to this talk, I had assumed that his recommendation would be another 6-months of cycling, with a side of cycling.
But, I was wrong. Gloriously, wonderfully, happily wrong.
I had about two months to focus my training on the thing I loved the most: the run. And it was even better than that:
Running…
On trails…
For very long periods of time…
Was it my birthday or something?
We wanted a 50k that would give me enough time to recover out of Louisville (oh, yeah, and IMLP), and then have time to ramp up for the race. That turned out to be the Rosaryville Veteran’s Day 50k on November 9, 2013.
At the race start, it was 29-degrees, the first truly cold weekend of the freezing season. The frost on the field numbed my toes, as I tried my best to achieve blood flow with some warm up drills. In that moment, I had an inkling of what horses must feel like in the moments before the gates open.
It was time to race.
I wasn’t nervous. I just wanted to run in the woods. I just wanted to do my thing.
The race starts with about a 1 mile section on the road in order to get to the trail head for the Rosaryville State Park Perimeter Trail. Once there, the course takes 3 counter clockwise loops, and then back to the start, which doubles as the finish.
In terms of elevation, the Garmin data puts the race at a total of 1900 feet of gain, and about an equal amount of descending.
Running trails is play at its best! No expensive gear. No expansive egos. It’s your body, your mind, your spirit, and the trail.
Pure #awesomesauce.
This particular trail was a great playground, with twists and turns and loopy-loo hills that kept you mentally engaged. As I galloped around some of the turns, I would grab a tree and swing in order to keep my balance. Amid the twists, the rocks and the roots, the trail was a puzzle to piece together. I had to find just the right place to land my feet, to take the downhills at just the right speed, to work around the blind turns without tripping on the unseen.
So. Much. Fun.
I was in the zone — a true flow experience. I was working hard, but I was not overwhelmed by the intensity. I would check in with myself. How am I feeling? Every time the answer came back:
Pure #awesomesauce.
My plan was to take the first loop steady and see how I felt from there. You know what they say about the best laid plans… So, race day execution took a different approach.
From the start, my heart rate was elevated about 10 beats from what Vince and I had discussed. But, I wasn’t concerned. I’ve learned that racing requires on-the-spot decisions to determine what is workable and what isn’t. I felt fine — better than fine — at the elevated heart rate, so I carried on.
In the first mile of the race, there is a gentle decline on the road before you enter the perimeter trail. During this portion, I was able to count roughly how many women were in front of me before we got on the trail. By my count, I had about 9 or 10 women in front of me, and maybe 40 or so people total.
That’s okay, I thought. There are many miles left to go.
Patience.
When we first entered the single track trail, I got stuck behind a group of people, and realized that maybe I should have pushed a little harder to get out in front.
PATIENCE. I continued to remind myself.
I took my opportunities to pass when they came, and I tried not to be an a$$hat about it. The trail was mostly single track, so you had to ask people to step aside in order to pass them. By the time I got to the half-way point of the first loop, I had passed two women, who were running together with a male in between them.
A few seconds after I passed them, I heard one woman say, “You should chase her.”
To which the male replied, “Nah. This is a long race. She won’t be able to keep that up.”
Oh really?! There’s not much I like better than a challenge about what I can’t do. Nothing like a little bit of smack talk to get the energy flowing.
At moments during the first loop, I worried that my effort was too high. But, I kept checking in with myself, taking an objective read on how I was feeling. All systems pointed to: Keep Going. I knew I was exerting a relatively high effort for the distance, so I ate more calories than I normally do. One thing I learned from IMLP and IMLou is that I’ve been under-fueling. I wasn’t going to make that mistake any more.
As I finished up the first loop, I came into the aid station set up there. (There was a second aid station half-way through the loop.)
“What do you need?” one of the totally excellent volunteers called out to me.
“Nothing! I’m self-sufficient,” I replied, patting my Camelback. Yes, it gave me extra weight, but I didn’t have to stop once, a trade-off that mattered in the end.
I re-entered the single track for my second loop. At this point, I rejoined some of the people that had been in the front-of-the-pack. I felt phenomenal. I mean – really freaking great, better than I expected to feel. I was getting ever deeper in a flow state, having fun, not worried about the outcome, and wanting this run to go on forever – or at least a few more hours.
About 4 miles or so into the second loop, there was a volunteer who was taking numbers (to ensure no one cut the course).
As I passed him, he told me, “You are in fifth place.”
By my count, I had been in 7th, but I must have passed a few women who stopped at the aid station.
Shortly after that, I passed a woman to slip into fourth place. I was starting to think about the possibility of third place, but I didn’t know how far ahead the next woman would be.
I did my best to stay in the present moment, keep my focus on running this playful maze.
Toward the end of the second loop, I could see two ponytails in the distance.
Oh. Em. Gee. That’s 2nd and 3rd place, my brain screamed. I wanted to sprint after them.
PATIENCE, WOMAN, cautioned the voices.
I kept them in my sight as we entered into the aid station at the end of the loop. They stopped. I didn’t. That’s when I found myself in second place.
Shut the F—ront door! Me?! I’m in second place?
It seemed incredulous. But there I was. The voices said: You might win this race! I was starting to believe them.
Belief is one thing – but if you don’t put the work in, belief won’t become reality. So, I threw my effort into high gear, at an intensity well above what I ever thought might be appropriate for a 50k. I was going for the win, and if I blew up, so be it.
The chase was on.
With about 5 miles left to go, I came upon the volunteer in the woods, asking for my number.
“1172.” I told him.
He looked at his paper and replied, “You are in second place.”
Then, he paused for just a moment.
“She’s only about 2 minutes ahead of you!” He called out to me as I headed down the trail.
That was the information I was looking for. I yelled back, “Thank you!”
Two minutes. 5 miles. Do I have enough space to make it up? Do I have the brain power to figure out the math? As it turned out, no.
Since I couldn’t figure out the math, I just ran harder.
A few miles later down the path, I saw her ponytail.
At first, I wasn’t sure if that was indeed the first place female or another runner on their second loop. I caught another glimpse, and figured from the pace she was running, it had to be first place.
As I passed a runner seemingly on his second loop, he whispered (yes, whispered!), “I think first place is only 30 seconds ahead.”
I whispered back (why? I don’t know): “Yes, I think so too.”
A few minutes later, and I saw her walking up a hill, just paces in front of me.
Walking!! The voices hissed in gleeful excitement. But, it was way too soon for celebration. I had to keep running.
After that hill, we came upon a twisting and turning downhill section. That was my opportunity, and I took it. She heard me coming and stepped aside.
As I passed, I said, “Thanks. Great run!”
“You too,” she responded.
We had about 2 miles left to go at that point. For the first time in my life, I was winning a race. For a brief moment, I got a little weepy (who didn’t see that coming?!). Then, I checked myself.
You haven’t won yet, I reprimanded. Keep up the heat.
I desperately wanted to look behind me to see if she was going to come back on me. But, I didn’t. I just ran harder.
I exited the trail to run the final portion on the road to the finish line. I passed a group of spectators: “FIRST FEMALE!”
Then, I ran past two more spectators. “FIRST FEMALE RUNNER COMING!!” They yelled up the hill, several times.
I passed two guys in a truck. The driver rolled down the window: “Yeah girl! You won this!”
I have to admit: it all made me feel so very puffed up, like a big old running peacock.
There is something so very magical about the support fellow humans lend to you. Their cheers made my heart feel so good. Those people made me feel so special as I made my way up the road, up the field to the finish line to my first ever overall race win. I am grateful for the love they showed me.
I saw the banner of the finish line, and started up the field. I saw John on the side, and saw the surprise register on his face when he realized I was the first female. I watched him as he said to the person next to him, “That’s my wife!”
His surprise quickly gave way to smiles and cheers.
I crossed the finish line in 4:28:18, a time which turned out to be the course record for the race (which started 4 years ago). If you told me this a few weeks ago, I would have told you that you lived in fantasy land. It’s still a little hard to believe.
If you are thinking about doing a 50k, this is a great one to pick. The trail is super fun, and the race is well-organized, and staffed with helpful volunteers. The race directors are friendly and welcoming.
The race schwag and awards are personalized and thoughtful–made for runners, by runners. The AG awards were custom towels (made by one of the race directors sisters, I think?). The towels have a slit at the top, which makes them great bibs (as modeled by Carole and John above), capes (my personal suggestion), or what I imagine was the intended use: a car seat cover. First place prize for me was a custom mug from Annapolis Pottery. On the bottom it reads: “2013 first place female”. *Weep* *Weep*
I’ve drank more coffee than I need to just so I can use this cup. Over. And over. And over.
So, wow. That happened. I won a race. While the win feels good and I love my coffee cup more than I probably should, the best part of the Rosaryville 50k was the feeling I had running that trail.
That feeling was pure #awesomesauce.
