A "Brief" Recap of a Not-so-brief Race

To paraphrase a popular idiom: “How do you run 158 miles? One bite at a time.” Perhaps many would consider eating an elephant more enjoyable. I would counter that it might take longer than 2 days.

My training in 2022 was inconsistent all year, with hamstring injuries taking me out for weeks at a time almost every two months. My most consistent training block with speed work involved was before my Saranac 6er Fastest Known Time in May. It seemed like every time I attempted to run 7:00/mile or faster, something would go wrong. So, most of my training from July through race day was slow and easy – a lot of 9:00/miles.

I figured that reading an article or two about a 48 hour race would be mental preparation enough and found Jeff Hagen’s article incredibly helpful! The run/walk combination and the suggestions around sleep were particularly helpful.

Race day morning was smooth (or, smooth as it usually is with trying to get 2 kids and a toddler ready to go to school) and my friend Calvin graciously agreed to drive me to the race. After we arrived, I used the restroom and Calvin had set up my “camp” for the weekend. “Camp” was 6 tote boxes, a metal folding chair, three bags and a picnic blanket plus a camping air mattress. I was ready to go!

In case you’re wondering, the starts of ultramarathons are pretty anti-climactic; perhaps even more so than the anticlimactic finishes (wait for drama of hitting my goal and finishing the race)! Imagine a bunch of people dressed in running clothing muddling around an area, with some nervous chatter. If it wasn’t for the running clothes and starting timer, you wouldn’t necessarily know it was a race. The majority of the people are over 50 years old, none of us seem in particularly great shape, and then the race director says “go” at 9am Friday morning.

Instead of the exciting running out of the gate that happens at marathons, most of us start walking. If we’re ambitious, it’s a muted shuffle. The race has begun. Uninformed onlookers would be confused. Even the runners are confused, “Did we really just start a 48-hour race? Oops.”

My plan was simple: walk about 5 minutes every loop, run the rest and shoot for 12-minute miles as long as I could. I stationed my “camp” right before the start/finish line, which also coincided with a slight hill. I only ran this portion of the course once – on the first lap. I would reach the bottom of the hill and then walk for around a third of a mile. This allowed me to grab food at the aid station (also at the start/finish) or my camp and then walk while I ate and drank. This turned out to be a perfect location for me! I will do it in the same location the next time I run this course!

The first 60 miles almost went off without any issues. I kept the 12 minute/mile goal pace and hit 60 miles almost exactly at 9pm. My legs were feeling solid, the walking breaks were helping me stay fresh and I was able to eat well. I shoot for 200-300 calories per hour when I’m running ultramarathons and my stomach was holding up well.

I had planned to eat Crafted Energy bars, fruit roll ups, Pop Tarts, and then drink the different mixes I brought. I ate 1.5 Crafted bars and never touched the Pop Tarts or fruit rolls ups! It turned out I didn’t want to eat those things! I ended up sustaining myself mainly with blueberries, strawberries, applesauce, and gummy bears for the first 12 hours. Those gummy bears were so good every time!

The main issue over the first 30 miles were my shoes. I had bought two different pairs of Hoka One One’s specifically for this race and they served me well in training (up to 2.5 hours). However, during the race, they both irritated my left ankle to the point where it was quite painful, and I was concerned about doing damage. My ankle was hurting after 15 miles, so I switched to my second pair of Hoka’s, only to find that 15 miles later, my ankle was still quite irritated.

Switching shoes so frequently is undesirable and I was discouraged. Even more so, because the Hoka’s had so much cushion and the pair of Brook Ghosts (which probably have over 500 miles on them) were not very supportive. However, my ankle felt better, so I went with it.

While I was running, I almost always had music or a book on. I likely listened to about 14+ hours of books over the two days and even more music. I would turn it off when I was walking/running with people. I also enjoyed numerous phone calls and Facetime conversations over the course of the two days.

After 60 miles, I remember being hit with a wave of fatigue. I suspect it was because it was bedtime. A normal person would have gone to sleep. I laid down for 5 minutes on a picnic bench and then got back up to continue doing the loops!

Somewhere between 60-65 miles the shin splints started to echo up my legs. My right hamstring was also tweaky. This was discouraging because I still had leg strength to run, but I knew if I pushed it, the shin splints or hamstring could explode into pain and end my race on the spot. I moved to walking more.

A text message exchange with Em at 10:35pm communicated this and then I didn’t text again until the next morning. Em lovingly sent me several messages voicing care, then concern, the “Going to bed now. Call if there’s an emergency. Text if you feel like sharing anything that can wait until morning.” Oops. Sorry for the under-communication Em!

Here’s what I think happened that night. I say “think” not because I was hallucinating, but mainly because I forget how the timing lined up. I laid down for a nap around 11:00pm.

Caption contest welcome

I woke up around an hour later shivering. Apparently, it gets cold outside at night and shelter helps keep you warm! I slowly walked up the hill and the cook on duty at midnight asked if I was doing okay.

“Cold” was all I could muster.

“Stand by the grill” Linda said, inviting me into the kitchen.

“Why don’t you take some hand warmers and get moving”

This was “what saved Tim from being very cold part 1.” Thank you, Linda. I got up the hill with a determination to walk until I warmed up.

Part two came when I heard the distant noise of ultra-runners shuffling. I looked back and Gary and Suzanne were coming up behind me. (In another post, I hope to share some stories of the amazing people I met – Gary and Suzanne were among them!). What happened next is one of the reasons I love ultra-running.

“Can I tag along with you guys?”

“Absolutely!”

And off we went, a three-person midnight party. They had a strong walk/run rhythm, and I was happy to join them for it. I warmed up right away - handwarmers and hot soup brought hope and energy back. After 5-10 miles together, they needed a longer break, so I continued on ahead until around mile 77 (I think). The shin splint echoes returned, and I found myself tipping over as I was walking from fatigue.

Sometime around 3-4am I fell asleep again, this time with hand warmers pressed against my chest to keep my core temperature up. I set an alarm but woke up before it went off – maybe around 5am, and found myself cold, but not shivering and walked a loop to help myself wake up. The moon had travelled across the sky and was ginormous. It was a beautiful way to enter into the last four hours of day 1.

Then something miraculous happened. The shin splints were gone. I was curious to test them out at first, but found I could run 1, 2, 3, even 5 minutes at a time without pain. So, I started to pick up the pace again, shed a couple of layers and got back to 13-minute miles! I’ve never been happier in my life to run a 13-minute mile. I extended my walking portion by about a minute, so I was walking 6 minutes and still running around 7.

I hit 95 miles at 9am and then crossed 100 miles at 10:14am on Saturday morning. I was still moving well and pressed into my walking and running rhythm. I don’t remember many specifics of the next 20 miles. Every loop, I would get to this brown wooden shack that was my cue to start running again, pump myself up somehow and get back into a 10ish-minute mile pace. Not to mention this was happening when every mile after 105 is longer than I’ve ever run before!

This was amazing to me every time. After a night of shin splints, shivering cold, and falling over as I was walking, I was putting in consistent 13-minute mile splits for about 9 hours straight. Wow. One of the reasons I run races like this is because I want to find my limits. This stretch of running showed me even this race hasn’t brought me to my endurance limits yet.

The string of solid miles ended around 120 with the return of the shin splints. I laid down around 2:30pm to try and grab some sleep with no luck. I got up and tried another loop or two to see if the shin splints disappeared again. No luck. I laid down again at 4:47pm with no luck at sleep, but some nice time off my feet.

I then did some math – if I started to walk, just 3 miles an hour, it would take me until 2am to hit 150 miles. This was not the way I wanted to hit my goal (I’m not sure what way I imagined), but I knew almost immediately that this was what was going to happen.

I got up, grabbed my poles, got warm enough clothing and started to walk. 16-minute mile after 16-minute mile I walked.

The sun went down, and the temperature started to drop; I walked.

Whether I was alone or with someone; I walked.

The shins were a low hum of pain; I walked.

And the miles slowly ticked away; I walked.

Around 10pm, I came up to the aid station and another runner was milling around.

“Help get her moving Tim” came encouragement from Rick, the race director.

“Let’s get going! What’s your name?” were the words out of my mouth right away. I was at 138 miles and just needed 12 more. Friends for the journey (plus a cup of coffee around midnight) would be a gift.

The next 10 miles were spent with Emily, and we were joined a little later by Jess and we walked together through the moon lit night.

They went to sleep around 1:45am when I was at 148 miles. I didn’t trust myself to wake up in the morning, so I set my gaze towards 35 more minutes and two more miles.

The only memorable thought I had over those last two miles was that I hadn’t hallucinated yet in the race. Then I hallucinated. A pile of dirt with grass growing off it became two snarling wolves. It took significant mental engagement to remind myself that wolves hadn’t been there for the past 148 times.

At the same spot on my 150th lap the images came back, but with a tiny demon-ish creature showing up before the wolves took shape. This time I had to convince myself not to go over to the pile and poke them with my poles. “Don’t poke hallucinatory images with running poles” would make a good bumper sticker.

I took a video of myself crossing the start/finish line for the 150th time. I was pretty tired, ready to rest and super thankful to have hit my main goal of 150 miles around 2:30am.

I fell asleep (inside this time – thank you Rick!) and sadly woke up 45 minutes later badly needing to pee. The short hike up to the bathroom felt like an eternity. But I managed and made my way back to sleep. I set my alarm for 6am and gladly laid down again. I woke up before my alarm (again!) and sat up, everything in pain. I will attempt to capture my thoughts as accurately as possible from that morning.

“Why am I awake. It’s only 5:15. What’s wrong with me that I can’t sleep to my alarm.”

“I’m cold.”

“My shins hurt. OW. I moved my feet a little and it hurts.”

“Glad Jordan gave me this air pad.”

“My feet are cold.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I guess I’ll walk some more. Nothing else to do.”

I was out by around 5:20 and back to the loop for some more fun! I knew that I had the time to reach 158 miles, which would amount to 6 marathons in 2 days. So, I did it. I walked some laps with Jason, some with Jessica and crossed the finish line for the 158th time at around 8:40am.

158 miles in 47 hours and 40 minutes.

I definitely want to do this again.

Without the shin splints, I think I could do over 180 miles. I can’t wait to try.