(image courtesy of Troy Lee)
The Eagerly Anticipated Story of My First Salem Lakeshore Frosty 50K
Dist: 31.1 Miles
Time: 5:19:24 (10:17 pace)
It was a cold, dark night -- when I fell asleep at midnight. I tried to go through my pre-race evening rituals to ensure I got plenty of sleep, but somehow I knew it wouldn't come together. I even took the night off from work so that I could ensure a proper pre-race meal. Before going to bed, I saw that the current temps were colder than expected for our arrival at Salem Lake, so I knew I was more than prepared for the cold.
Finally, my 4AM alarm went off, and I headed to the kitchen for a small bowl of oatmeal to kick start my morning. Somehow, Christi, her dad Steve, and I were a little behind leaving Christi's parents' house but still made our trip up to Winston by 7:15 just behind the Guys car and the Girls car from UCRR. I hopped out of the car heavily bundled and picked up my bib with Steve and Christi in time to see a beautiful winter sunrise over the lake. Thanks to reading last year's race reports from UCRR, I had a pretty good idea what to expect upon my arrival. I made last minute preparations with my SPIbelt and bib. Started dropping layers then hung out with some of the gang as we heard the call over the bullhorn for "Five minutes till the race starts. If you're racing today, you'd better be headed over to the start." I finally met Troy Eisenberger, Emily Knudson (a potential Amy Poehler look-a-like), Jason Rose, and Vince Smith (my unwitting hero). We lined up for one decent group photo-op, where I happen to look like the only one still sleeping. Emily Hansen and Bill Weimer snuck in without me even noticing, but it was great to have such a great group of local runners who also made the trip on such a cold morning. We all turned and wished each other one last good luck. [SN: I've always wondered, what reaction would one get if they bid another runner to "Break a leg!" for a race. Maybe not that funny after all.] Surely enough, Warren Allen gave us a "Ready, Set, [Bugle Playing]!"
I was more than happy to start off nice and easy as a cool 50+ runners took off passing by in the first quarter mile. I chatted up Landon Dunn and Siobahn about potential March 20th marathons without a conclusion. I looked down at my watch to see that amidst the shuffle of the slightly crowded start of a trail race, I still remained at 11:30 pace (1:30 behind my goal pace). At the same time, it seemed that Vince was ready to have some fun too, so I bid adieu to the ladies and caught up to him. We started talking about our plans for the race, and I started to notice that despite all my talk of just relaxing and finishing the race, I had really put a lot of pressure on myself. Vince agreed to stick by me for a little while, and there is so much I could say about the ensuing miles. If you're looking for a short version of how this time passed, the mile splits for the day were as such: 9:59, 9:13, 8:59, 9:34, 9:02, 9:16, 9:34, 9:24, 9:52, 10:24, 10:10, 10:37, 9:52, 10:05, 10:02, 15:58 (when I stopped to change socks while my fingers should have been fending off frostbite), 9:46, 8:59, 10:07, 10:02, 11:39, 11:14, 10:46, 11:26, 12:30,11:34, 11:12,11:23, 9:48, 10:49, (then some blazing half-marathon pace to the finish for 1.1 where I forgot to stop my watch after crossing the finish).
I don't think any of the ultra-marathon gurus with whom I discussed my plans believed that I really thought I was going to stick the idea of not walking the whole race. To me, I didn't understand how they could expect someone who is in pretty good shape to want to walk at all. I have watched enough videos, and read more than enough information to know that even some of the best walk a lot on more treacherous trails, steeper inclines, and longer ultras than a 50K, but come on! This was only 5 more miles than a marathon. All of my training was geared around holding a 10:00 pace. Even if I had to take a hill a lot slower and blaze down it like you see the ultra fanatics do it, I've even trained to transition from 9:00 pace to 12:00 pace and back on command all while maintaining a jog/run never walking. Boy did I have something to learn. The first aid station around mile three had a good spread of gatorade and water for hydration, oreos, pretzels, and pb&j sandwhiches for solids. Vince and I passed a guy from Florida who had run five Badwater Ultramarathons ("the world's toughest footrace"), but now had to squeeze in this 50K to meet the new registration standards. At this hill around mile 5 is where I first saw a number of racers literally WALKING the hill. This is also the first place I noticed a change in the course from what we saw for the 30K trail race back in September.
Vince understood that I really wasn't prepared to walk any part of the course, so as we approached a hill or aid station, I would slow down to a pace that I could maintain through the aid station/ hill and he would simply walk through it and catch up. I started to notice that by simply trotting through these periods, I wasn't gaining more than 100m on him and it seemed to be hurting me a lot more. The next aid station came soon after the hill on the other side of the lake around mile 6. This is the first time that I was able to see Christi and Steve since the start. I rolled through too quickly to really exchange any memorable comments, but I grabbed a cup of water to down my Hammer gel and kept going. Vince caught up and we started seeing the leaders of the pack. Suddenly, we were faced with a shallow creek due to a water level that was higher than I remember from the September race also. In order to conquer this swift, brisk six foot chasm of potential frostbite, someone had placed about ten rocks, only a few of which were actually above the current water level. Thinking my Brooks footwear would allow me the power to walk across water like the Jesus lizard from their ads, I bypassed the rock path and splashed in the worst way. I was very thankful that I had packed five pairs of socks in the bag after all. Another frigid mile to the turn around point we crossed paths with Michelle Hazelton and B3 making CRC proud. I could've sworn I had seen Matt Jaskot in his unique unripened banana yellow CRC shorts in the parking lot, but never saw him during the race. Shortly after the ladies, we saw in order Bobby Aswell, Mark Cox, Theoden, Jason Rose, Emily Hansen, and Troy Eisenberger all smiling so it helped keep my spirit high. As we hit the turn around, I took quick stock of how my body felt, and there was no unnatural fatigue for just under 8 miles, and the only pain was my feet resembling blocks of ice. As we traversed the creek a second time, I was determined to get a little more practice staying on the rocks for when my feet would be dry next time. Successfully we crossed, with only a slight splash from Vince, and before we knew it, snow was falling around us. I knew it was supposed to be cold, but I hadn't the slightest clue what to make of snow coming down during a race like this. It brought a smile to my face. Sure enough all the girls that started together were still running with each other. Vince pointed out Daniel Lieb and we passed Carolyn Fritzsche somewhere in that period too. Approaching the Carters at the station, I exclaimed what an idiot I was for splashing through the rushing water and asked for a fresh pair of thin socks when I arrive back at the start line.
Coming back up the winding steeper side of THE hill (much like the one on McAlpine's XC course), I still felt no need to walk. My ultra tour guide did convince me to take it easier however and I was beginning to question everything for which I had trained over the last month since Thunder Road. On the way back, I stepped over an unopened Hammer Gel that looked like conspicuously like the flavor I was carrying. Crap! I lost 2 of my 5. In hindsight, I should've found a way to concentrate on fueling the way I know I need. My frigid fingers' ineptness was an easy excuse not to try to open my SPIbelt anymore for the back-up, back-up gel and powerbars I had stored. As we hit the start line at the end of the fisrt lap Christi was holding two pairs of fresh socks for me. We briefly talked about the snow that was sticking to the ground all around us and the appearance of a blizzard over the lake. While Vince took a pit stop at the appropriately located port-a-johns, my fingers fumbled around trying to change my socks. We grabbed some quick solids to take with us, and we were off.
After the nearly five minutes we lost between laps, my legs felt truly rejuvenated. I had no thoughts tiring and had forgotten almost any notion of pain. Before I knew it, our pace was -9:00 again, and I told myself that I could not maintain a race if I continued to push like this. I was briefly distracted by Vince's version of some Black Eyed Peas song and rolled with the punches. Maybe it was only due to the negative thoughts I let creep into my race psychology earlier, or my lack of practice walking uphills, but by the time I hit THE hill again, I was hurting badly. Knowing I had another 9 miles to go when I saw the Carters at the aid station, I told Christi I really was going to need her to finish strong. Approaching the creek for the third time, I negotiated the rock pathway much more adeptly, in part due to the baby steps I allowed myself to take. When we were passing the marshall at the turn-around point, he inquired how I was feeling. I told him I'd be okay, I just needed to stop being a baby. We rolled on with the snow subsiding almost 4 hours after sunrise, and Vince's version of "Barbie Girl" by Aqua kicked us up a notch in the enthusiasm column.
We picked up my secret weapon on our way back at mile 24. Passing off my nearly empty QuickDraw to Steve Carter, Christi jumped right in to pace us through to the end. Thankfulness was on the tip of my tongue every other minute. We recapped Vince's antics and some of the other previous topics of the day as I walked back up THE hill and galloped down the other side. Every mile or so following would result in me seeing a different stereotypical ultra runner ahead of me, warning Vince and Christi of my plans, then turning my gears harder just long enough to push my "opponent" more than they desired, and slowing down to a trot after they would give in. This plan continued for the next five miles as I passed about ten different runners. If I could see them, I could pass them. Vince's rain of positive affirmations and Christi allowing me to draft off her through some pretty headstrong winds made it much easier to conserve energy when I wasn't kicking to pass other runners.
Looking back, I think the last three miles were another lesson all their own, which I will try to apply in marathons to come. With one surge after another, I kept reminding myself that it would be ludicrous to try to maintain a tempo of anything faster than ten minutes, and I would make Christi slow down for me. Although I set out hoping to beat myself into mush over the course of the 50K, by the last 5K I had stopped checking my pace and simply knew that I wanted to be able to sprint to the finish, unaware of how much kick I would actually possess. Just like most every other race, I rounded the last corner before I expected, and my instinct pushed my legs for a faster turnover than I had endured any other instant the entire race. Forgetting about every whining point the last five hours, my galloping sprint evolved into my very first finish line airplane. Never in my life have I felt so good as I did crossing that finish line with every single highlight from this race and my last marathon flashing before my eyes. I was greeted with congratulations from friends and a pretty sweet finisher's trophy. I tried to thank Steve, Christi, and Vince more as I hurried over to scarf down three Krispy Kreme doughnuts. The ladies of UCRR began crossing the finish line consecutively as I changed shoes. I was glad to see everyone from UCRR had finished before 6 hours. It would've been painstaking for anyone to be going around that lake long. As we all hopped in the cars to head back home, nothing could take away from my elation. Looking back, I realized how much more I really had left in me to compete longer/faster. I will definitely return for this 50K at some point, but I eagerly look forward to my next ultra distance being even further.
