I ran my first Ultra-Marathon last Sunday and I'm still on a high. It was a 50K [[The Glacial 50 Trail|http://badgerlandstriders.org/GT50/]]]] on part of the 1,000 mile Ice Age Trail in Wisconsin. First-time experiences have a way of unleashing new energy and excitement. I remember my first race, my first marathon, and my first Eco-Challenge. The mystery of the event keeps a constant flow of motivation to train, prepare and of course, obsess.
Although I trained well for the Ultra, I had no idea what the race would bring and that is what makes the journey so darn exciting. It was an out-an-back course on a very technical single track trail full of rocks, roots all covered in the fall's leaves. I tend to like technical trails better because they demand your constant attention. One look at your watch and you could be flying through the air and down on your face.
I love large running events, but I love the serenity of a trail even more. There is also an honesty about Ultra's that I found refreshing. But then again, that could be more about it being my first. Firsts are always refreshing because they're new! Collectively about 105 people towed the line and the race was started with a shout out from the director. No chips, no music, no pace teams. Just 100 or so people looking to tackle 31 miles on a tough trail. It reminded me a lot of my first few adventure races. The races are out there for the experience, not the swag.
As we set down the road towards the trail, I positioned myself in the back of the bubble. Since this was my first one, I wanted to pace wisely so I would look good for the finish (good meaning vertical). I was surprised at how "friendly" the runners were and listened to them chat for the first few miles. I met a runner with a picture on his back and asked him who she was. My running partner of 12 years," he said. He went on to tell me all they had done together and how she was in her fourth round of chemo for breast cancer. For me, it really put perspective on the day. I thought of my dad, who we lost last year from a brain tumor and his journey. It was the first time I could talk about him without falling into sadness. The miles went by as we discussed her spirit and the hope to some day find a cure for all cancers. My dad was with me every step...
As I reached 15.5 miles and the half-way turn around point many of the lead runners were coming back on the trail. The course is set up as an out-and-back. The competitor inside me starting tapping on my shoulder. "I know you are out here to just finish this thing, but if you push a little harder you can pass some of these nice runners." The first half of the race was all about conservation in the hopes of finishing and as I passed the half-way mark, the race became all about picking off runners (nicely) along the trail. There is nothing like being strong enough in a race to be able to pass people.
As the course rolled up and down the rocks seemed to multiply and the hills grew steeper. (Total elevation gain is about 6,000 ft) I didn't remember that many rocks on the way out! It started raining and it quickly became more difficult to navigate over the slippery roots and rocks. My mind was growing tired of looking for the next spot to place my foot. One false step on a rock or root and you're down on your face. In fact, falling is a big part of ultra-running, especially as you fatigue.
Surprisingly, I was able to pass a few runners as I counted down the miles and then something kicked in. The song "The Fire Inside" from Bob Seger came on my ipod and all hell broke loose. It is one of those songs that motivates me to leap tall buildings in a single bound. My arms started moving faster and my legs followed. I passed a hiker with a cute dog and he yelled out, hey, you have about 7 runners just ahead if you push you can catch them. That is like telling me, hey, there is a sale going on at my favorite store and if you get there early enough you'll hit all the good stuff! I kept hitting the repeat button on my ipod and kept passing runners. What a high! As I finished up running my fastest mile of the race, I saw three men and a truck which for this race was the FINISH and couldn't believe it was over already. Don't get me wrong, I was ready for it to be over at about mile 25.
It was a great race and a breaking moment in my life. I've been stuck in a fog the past few years dealing with the loss of my father, grandmother and dog. Running this race cleared the fog and unveiled the trail ahead.
Getting off the beaten path unleashed the fire inside and for that, I am grateful.
Happy Trails,
Coach Jenny