Leatherwood Mountain 50 Mile Ultra

Awesomeness!  Along with some insanity, agility, humility, intensity and a good bit of  profanity thrown in for good measure.  This was the inaugural running of the Leatherwood Mountain Ultra in Ferguson, NC.  The RD’s promised us a challenging course and they more than delivered.  The event offered a 10 mile, 50K and 50 mile option.  I opted for the 50 miler, just so I could get a full dose of mountain magic.

The day before the event the skies had opened up with a deluge, high winds and tornado warnings.  When I arrived at the race venue for the pre-race pasta dinner Friday night, it was still raining.  The pastures and pathways surrounding the Leatherwood Resort were a mess.  Obviously just a little advance warning on what the trails were going to be like.

A muddy start/finish line the day before. (Photo courtesy of Allison T)

I soon found some familiar faces and made new acquaintances.  The highlight of the evening for me was the guest speaker – Jennifer Pharr Davis.  This incredible young woman had set the Appalachian Trail speed record in 2011 having traversed the entire length of the AT in just 46 days.  That’s an average of 47 miles a day!  I got to visit with her and her 6 month old daughter, Charly, prior to the dinner and had a lovely, easy going conversation with her about hiking and running, motherhood and life.  What a personable young woman she is.  Her talk during dinner was hugely entertaining, humorous and inspiring.

That's Jennifer in the background looking on as Daddy and Charly share a special moment.

Most of the dinner conversation seemed to have everybody speculating on their finish times, what the trails would be like, how this course would compare to previous runs, etc, etc.  I was content to just sit back and listen.  I didn’t see much point in expending energy on the unknown.  The morning would bring what it would.  No amount of pre-race strategizing was going to change the trail.  All I wanted to get out of this was to run within my means, pace myself to endure the full 50 miles and have a good time while doing it.  I had no specific time goals other than making it through the first 40 miles in under 12 hours, as that was the single cutoff that the RD’s had put in place.  The one item my ears did perk up about as the RD’s reviewed the course briefly was the mention of several creek crossings that were sure to soak our feet.  I guess I’d put a couple of extra pair of socks and a spare pair of shoes in my drop bags.

As all good ultrarunners do, we all went our separate ways soon after the race briefing to try and get a good night’s sleep.  I slept pretty darn well and drifted off to the sounds of the nearby creek and a light rain hitting the top of the RV.

View from my campsite.

 There were 77 starters for the 50 miler.  We milled about by the stables trying to stay warm and wishing each other well.  We observed a moment of silence for Boston, there was a playing of the national anthem (which always makes me tear up) and then the sound of the starting gun sounded as “Highway to Hell” blared in the background and we set off!  We had a nice easy 1 mile road warmup that allowed everybody to spread out.   

Our first mile looked like this.

This was quickly followed by a challenging climb on gravel roads that netted us 500’+ of gain in mile 2.  That was just the beginning of all the fun.  Over the next several miles as we transitioned to single track we began the roller coaster ride that would seem to last forever. We’d been forewarned that the first 7.5 miles would be the hardest of the course.  I’m so glad we got them over with early on.

I'm a Georgia Tech numbers kinda gal at heart. For all the rest of you geeks out there, take a look at these numbers for the 50 mile course:

1 mile had 800' of gain+descent (remember mile 5?)
2 course miles had greater than 700' of gain+descent
A total of 8 course miles had greater than 600' of gain+descent
A whopping 21 course miles had at least 500' of gain+descent!!
And 30 course miles gifted us with 400' or more of gain+descent

Total elevation gain for the course 10,680’; Total descent 10,680’.

The previous day’s rains left some of the descents as eroded, mud-lined gullies covered in inches of snot slick mud.  At points, I was literally laughing out loud at myself as my arms windmilled frantically and my body twisted and turned this way and that as I tried desperately to keep my balance.  I still don’t know how I came through this entire race without a single spill.  Many runners had lovely mud covered butt patterns adorning the backs of their shorts before the day was too far gone. Periodically interspersed throughout the 50 mile course were a few easier road sections thrown in here and there just so we wouldn’t completely give up.

One of the lovely, but all too infrequent, valley sections.

Some of my most enjoyable miles were in the company of 68 year old ultra runner, Bill Keane.  He doggedly took the lead for our little posse.  At times I felt like there was an invisible rope between the two of us and Bill was hauling my tired butt up those steep climbs.  At one point we turned a corner to see a section of trail ahead that seemed to literally climb to the sky at a ridiculous grade.  I literally stopped in my tracks, started giggling a bit hysterically and exclaimed “Oh My God!”  Bill matter of factly instructed me “Don’t look up” and we forged ahead step by step, one foot in front of the other until the climb was complete.  Thanks, Bill.

One of the many lovely views to inspire.

This course had so many breathtaking vistas.  Many of the hardest climbs afforded us spectacular views of the valleys below.  We’d be deep in the woods climbing up the single track only to break out onto a road beside a picture perfect mountain top meadow populated with gorgeous, curious, and friendly horses happy to come over and say hello if you’d just pause for a moment.  Many of the runners had taken advantage of the cabin rentals Leatherwood Resort offered.  We ran by many of these picturesque mountain top cabins and each one looked more beautiful than the last.  Next time around, we might have to give one of them a try!

Beautiful course shot turns into....

...a friendly hello!

I fared well through the majority of the race.  I gave up counting all of the foot soaking stream crossings when I reached #8.  I’m so glad I put all those extra pairs of socks in my drop bags.  Changing into a dry pair of shoes 24 miles in put new life in my feet (at least for a little while).

Photo by awesome Amy Connolly of Pink Crow Photo

Pacing, fueling, hydrating, etc, etc.  I think I played it all quite well, but there was no way around it that by mile 34 my spirits and my legs were flagging.  The aid stations had been awesome but by then I’d been on my feet for some 9 hours and I was just flat out STARVING.  There were plenty of snacks available and PB and Js galore, but I really wanted something more substantial. 

While stopping in at the Rawhide Aid Station (we visited this particular aid station 5 times throughout the race) I took out my phone (which I’d been using to take pics) and checked to see if I had a signal.  YES!  I immediately thought to text Allison, who had run the 10 miler earlier that day, and see if I could implore her to have mercy on me.  My message went something along the lines of “I’ll pay you a $1M and love you forever if you can have a cheeseburger waiting for me at the 40 mile checkpoint.”  She immediately texted me back requesting details on condiments.  HURRAY!!!  Gotta love having a friend come through for you in a pinch.  With spirits revived and the thought of a lovely, warm, pickle and ketchup-laden cheeseburger waiting for me below, I hopped back out on the trails and felt like I was figuratively flying those 5.5 miles.

I pulled in to the stables right at 6 pm.  40 miles down in 11 hours and a big fat burger and a hug from Allison.  

Life was good once again.  I gave myself a half hour break at this aid station.  I needed it.  I had one final 10 mile loop ahead of me to complete the course and I was whooped.  Some real food, a change of socks, refill my water and snacks and I was off once again with headlamp and flashlight in my pack.  It was right at 6:30 pm as I left the stables.

Upon my return, these beautiful luminaries would be my beacons in the darkness.

My final loop, while definitely my slowest and the one where I felt most fatigued and beaten, was also my favorite. I was mostly alone for this loop.  There were several points where I saw oncoming runners heading down the mountain to either complete their race or check in and head back out for the final loop.  All of them looked tired, some relieved to be close to finishing, some in obvious discomfort, some preparing to call it quits and take the DNF.  I was moving slowly, but steadily and I knew that was all I needed to ask of myself.  As the sun set behind the encircling mountains and dusk began to fall, the woodlands came alive with the sounds of birds and the rustlings of various creatures.  Whipporwill males called out emphatically from trailside limbs.  How many years had it been since I’d heard that call?  Pure magic.

Aerial view of the course

Darkness settled in full by around 8 pm.  I donned my headlamp, warmer clothing and continuously reminded myself to pay attention for markers.  The RD’s had a brilliant idea when they decided to tag each runner with a color coded bracelet indicating which loop they were on and which trail ribbons they should be following.  After being out there for 12+ hours, it was easy for me to forget that I was supposed to be following the orange ribbons this loop, but all I had to do was look down at my color-coded bracelet to remind myself.  I did so no less than 5 times on this final loop.  I was tired, I was yawning, my body was aching and my brain was a bit fuzzy.  That little attention to detail probably saved my butt from wandering on to one of the yellow or pink trails that crisscrossed my path so frequently.

Rawhide aid station

The course brought you through the Rawhide Aid Station twice on this final 10 mile loop.  Gosh how I loved the sight of that lovely blue and white striped tent.  The volunteers were down to a skeleton crew by this point, but they were still incredibly friendly and eager to help.  On my final pass through, I was treated to a cup of warm chicken broth and it was absolutely perfect!

As I headed out from Rawhide one last time with just a little over two miles to go, my overwhelming emotion was one of gratitude for so many things.  I stopped a few times on trail here to turn off my headlamp and just stand in the darkness for a few moments. A half moon had been visible since late afternoon and now it was high up above shining brightly through the tree limbs on a cloudless night and the sky was filled with stars.  It was spectacular and I felt recharged.

My final mile was the quickest I’d covered in many an hour.  I had the good fortune to catch up with a small pack of other runners and between the 5 or 6 of us, we were able to scout out the trail ahead at a confusing intersection and help one another to find the right path, our calls echoing back and forth through the woods.  Our relief at finally breaking out onto the gravel road that would lead us to the finish was palpable.   In the last half mile or so, you could hear the strains of the band that was playing near the stables.  As lights came into view and we transitioned onto pavement, I gave it one final push just for the fun of it to try and come in under 15 hours.  There were hardly any spectators left, but the few hardy souls scattered about here and there offered cheers and applause as we came down the home stretch.  The finish line had been taken down hours ago and our finish consisted of basically stumbling into the stable area and calling out our race number to the two volunteers left at the nearby picnic table.  It’s all good ;-)

Here it is some 3 days later and I’m still not able to walk quite right and stairs are a nightmare.  If my legs were willing though, I’d run this course again tomorrow.

Boring stats:

77 starters, 63 finishers (22% dropout rate)

My place – 54^th finisher, 8^th female

Finish time: 15:00:22
Garmin data can be found here:
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/301683408

Weymouth Woods 100K

What an incredible adventure!  The Weymouth Woods 100K trail race was my A-list race for the start of the 2013 season.  I had been specifically training for this race for the last 4 months.  My diet, weekly mileage plans, specific training run courses, cross training, etc, etc, were all geared to this event.  My goal? – To finish this 100K/62 mile event in under 15 hours and earn a ticket in the Western States 100 Mile lottery! 

This goal was a super stretch for me.  I’ve only been running for 2 years.  I’m a 45 year old turtle.  A turtle with a good bit of endurance, but a turtle.  The longest distance I’ve ever run in one continuous  go? – 34.5 miles at The Promise Land (and that took me over 9 hours).  Yes, I covered 52+ miles at the Hinson Lake 24 hour event, but that was with a 4 hour volunteer shift, a nap and a shower thrown in during the event to break things up. 

I had traveled down to Weymouth 3 separate times in the weeks leading up to the race.  I had run the 4.5 mile long loop course a total of 11 times, including a lap in the dark.  I knew what sections I intended to run, what I would walk, what my landmarks were, where the mile points were, and how the dark would alter my pace.  With all of this “data”, I mapped out a race strategy that basically broke the event up into 3 distinct sections.

Typical trail - photo courtesy Mark Long

The first 5 loops (22.5 miles) were to be my warmup.  I had run 5 continuous loops at Weymouth during one of my training runs.  I knew I could average 56-58 minutes/loop (roughly 12:30 min/mile pace) without overtaxing myself.

"The Swamp Bridge" - photo courtesy of Ray K.

The second 5 loops (22.5 to 45 miles) were where my work was going to be done.  I needed to stay on track, keep myself moving at a steady pace and complete lap 10 (45 miles) by 6 pm when night would come.

My last 4 laps (miles 45-62) were to be my “hang on for dear life” laps.  These would be run in the dark.  If I could complete the first 10 laps by 6 pm, then I had 5 hours for the last 4 laps.  I could slow down a good bit (one hour and 15 minutes per loop, averaging 16:40 min/mile pace in the dark with some technical trails thrown in to keep you on your toes).  Doable, certainly, but after already having run 45 miles, certainly not “easy” or anything to be taken lightly.

The last rooty climb to the visitor's center. - photo courtesy of Tim Preble

 My other secret weapon to give me the best chance possible? - The use of a crew and pacers.  My chances of a sub 15 hour finish were so slim, that every minute was going to count.  If I could have crew to help me between laps (changing batteries in headlamps, handing me food, refilling water bottles, helping me change socks, etc), that could literally save me 20-30 minutes right there.  My husband, Paul, and dear friend, Deborah, both signed up for the challenge.  Each of them traveled to Weymouth with me to preview the course.  We’d had a couple of “meetings” before hand to discuss the details of what I needed and expected.  The two of them developed and fine tuned their task lists, pulled together a “pacer’s vest” that would hold all the gear they would have available for me during the final loops, and basically ran my race like a NASCAR pit crew.  

Paul and I traveled down to Southern Pines the night before the event.  We had a great time chowing on pizza with a dozen fellow runners and talking about the upcoming event. 

Carb loading with fellow runners, family and friends.

We got reports from a few runners who had been out on the course earlier in the day that the trails were in great condition, despite a snow/rain storm that had hit the area just 24 hours ago.  As all good runners should, by 10 pm we had settled down for the night in the RV.  I was surprisingly calm that night.  (Way better shape than I’d been a few days ago.)

My base camp and personal aid station

Early morning pre-race rituals, queuing up at the entrance to the park before the gates opened to secure a good spot for our RV base camp, checking in, catching up with fellow runners, setting up my personal aid station, etc, etc.  You know the drill.    Before I knew it, the race director was directing us to the start line and we were on our way on a brisk (23F), cloudless morning.

Walking down to the start.

Staying warm up until the last minute.

Laps 1-5 were fun.  That’s all there is to it.  Feeling fresh, cold morning temps making your breath billow out in front of you, the low lying sun slanting through the pine barrens, still feeling strong enough to easily pick up your feet and avoid all the roots.  I just cruised along keeping a watchful eye on my pace, reminding myself to hydrate, trying to eat at least 100-150 calories per loop.  I’d done this before and just put myself on auto pilot enjoying the company of other runners, great conversations, new trail friends, and the beauty of the nature preserve we were running through under crystal clear blue skies.

Happy Runner Girl completes Lap 1 (this smile didn't last forever) - photo courtesy Lee Watson

My splits for the first 5 laps:

Lap 1   55:37   12:27/mile   52^nd place

Lap 2   56:56   12:44/mile   51^st place

Lap 3   56:33   12:39/mile   50^th place

Lap 4   57:21   12:50/mile   47^th place

Lap 5   58:10   13:01/mile   44^th place

PERFECT!!

By lap 6, I was taking on a different demeanor.  I had been able to bank a little time over the first 5 laps.  My strategy of running the loops in 55-58 min, had given me a 15 minute buffer that I could spread out over the next 5 loops and still get myself through 45 miles by 6pm.  I tried to slow things down a bit.  I knew I needed to conserve energy ‘cause I wasn’t even half way there.  I wanted to slowly and gradually eat into my buffer, perhaps slowing my pace down by about a minute per mile.

Visiting Jimmy Ballard and Doug Dawkins at Aid Station 2

My stomach was starting to get a little “touchy”.  I was walking a fine line, and I knew it.  Every time I came into the aid station, Paul would try to get me to eat, eat, eat, but I knew my stomach couldn’t handle it.  I could hear and feel the water sloshing around in my gut.  Obviously, things weren’t being absorbed as quickly as I was putting them in, so I needed to be careful. 

By lap 7, my spirits and my energy were flagging.  I was keeping on track time wise, but it was becoming oh so hard to keep doing so.  I knew I needed help.  As I completed lap 7, I let Paul know I was changing the game plan and I desperately needed him and Deb to start pacing me ASAP.  Unfortunately, Paul had forgotten his running shoes (can you believe it!) but Deb was going to swing by our home on her way down and retrieve them.  She hadn’t arrived yet, but we were expecting her any minute.  All during lap 8 I was desperately hoping Deb would get there so Paul could jump in with me on Lap 9.

With just a few minutes to spare, Deb made it just before I completed Lap 8! Paul donned his running shoes and we trotted out of the aid station together.  He had grabbed me a huge cup of chicken noodle soup.  I slowed down to a walk long enough to try and consume at least half the mug.  That seemed to help tremendously.  Between that and Paul’s company, we knocked out Lap 9 still on schedule.

"Determined Runner Girl" - photo courtesy of Ray K

Lap 10 – Darkness was coming with this lap.  Quick change back into long sleeves, grabbed some lights and Deb hopped into the game to trot along beside me.  Company was helping tremendously.  The first few loops of the race, lots of runners were grouped together and it was easy to find someone to hang with and help pass the miles.  By lap 5, I was mostly alone and had resorted to my iPod for some tunes, but that only helped for about 3 laps.  Having a person right there, especially somebody as upbeat and positive as Deb, was a life saver.  I finished this one in twilight darkness with my handheld turned on.  Once again, just about on schedule.  We crossed the timing mat just 3 minutes after 6pm.

"Tired Runner Girl" meets "Uber Perky Pacer" - photo courtesy of Ray K.

Splits for laps 6-10

Lap 6   1:02:17   13:56/mile   44^th place  (completed a marathon with this lap)

Lap 7   1:03:14   14:09/mile   40^th place (completed a 50K with this lap, we’re half way done!)

Lap 8   1:03:01   14:06/mile   37^th place

Lap 9   1:02:25   13:58/mile   37^th place (Paul paced me)

Lap 10   1:07:23   15:04/mile   35^th place (Deb paced me)

The nighttime laps are the hardest.  Psychologically and physically.  You’re already exhausted (heck I’ve run 45 miles!) and the roots seem to come alive and grow up out of the trail to grab at you.  I had tried to plan for this though and allow myself a lot of extra time on each loop to factor all this in.  Crew recalculated what I needed to average to cross the finish line at 10:55pm and then updated my Garmin so I could track how I was doing against that pace.  All I had to do was average 16:40min/mile for the next 18 miles and I’d have it!  Surely I could do it.

These roots seemed to come alive after dark.

I went out conservatively and cautiously.  I made myself walk a lot more of the rooty sections as I wasn’t picking up my feet nearly as well as I had been earlier in the day and was tripping and stumbling pretty frequently.  I just wanted to avoid twisting an ankle or a more serious injury that would prevent me from finishing on time after all the hard work I’d already put in.

Stay focused, stay on track, keep pushing, don’t give up.  These thoughts were constantly filling my head.  It was so tempting to ease off, but I knew that if I let up just the least little bit, I could lose it all so easily and undo all the extra time I had worked so hard to put in the bank.

They say the 100K/62M distance is just a small peek into the world of the 100 miler.  100K/62 miles is just barely long enough for you to truly test your will power, to experience the lows of the ultra world’s “cave pain” and to have to fight hard to climb back up out of those lows.  These next 4 laps I ricocheted back and forth between optimism and confidence (“I’m gonna make it, I’m really going to do it!”) and despair (“There’s no way I can keep this up for 12 more miles.  I can’t make it.  I just need to walk.”)

Spirits and will are flagging.  Lap 11 complete.

Lap 12 was definitely my lowest.  I was drained.  Absolutely spent.  I felt like I had nothing more in me and was so tired of pushing my body.  Deb tells me I was really, really quiet at the start of this lap so she knew things were not going well.  Food.  I needed to take in more food.  It was about the only thing I could think of that might help.  Even though my stomach was still rather unhappy, I forced myself to chew down an entire Snickers bar and just hoped that the influx of calories might work its magic. 

On all our previous laps, my pacers had stayed behind me and I had dictated the pace, where we would walk, where we would run.  At this point, I was falling off the pace pretty badly and just couldn’t bring myself to pick things up.  Deb jumped into the lead and got me running again.  A very slow paced, stumbling, shuffling run, but I was at least still moving.  20 minutes after my candy bar scarf down, my spirits were picking back up, my energy levels were rising again and my optimism was back as we finally, finally crossed the mat to complete lap 12.  Just 2 more laps to go (and in my constant mind game thought process, I told myself I really only had 1 more lap to go because Lap 14 was going to be a “victory lap”!)

Lap 13 with Paul.  Excitement is building. Just do nothing stupid.  Watch for those roots.  Keep picking the feet up high.  Stay on pace.  Stay on pace.  We actually made up a little time on this one.  As we crossed the mat, the clock read 13:37 and change.  I had a whole hour and 23 minutes to complete the last 4.5 mile loop! 

Dropped Paul off at the aid station, picked up Deb, and called out to her “Let’s finish this thing!!”  We trotted off into the dark for the final loop.  I know I was smiling big once again.  I was tired, my legs were hurting, my feet were aching, my shoulders were killing me from holding lights and water bottles…none of it mattered!  I felt super confident…then the cramps hit. 

It started in the meaty part of my left inner thigh.  Every time I would break into a run, no matter how slow, the muscle fibers would clench up and send a shot of pain through me that had me grabbing my thigh and exclaiming in pain.  I tried again and again to just slow down the run, but my legs weren’t having it.  I could also feel my right calf starting to cramp as well.  Ok, ok, I can deal with this.  All I’ve got to do is power walk the heck out of this thing and I can still make it.  I’ve worked too hard to give up now.  I’m so close!  I tried to set a really good steady power walk pace.  I thought I was setting a good pace as Deb would have to trot every once in a while to keep up with me, but I wasn’t sure.  I asked Deb if she could get a reading on her Garmin as to how fast I was actually walking.  She started calling out numbers as I kept trying to up the pace bit by bit – 18 min/mile…17:30 min/mile…17 min/mile… Bam!  That’s the one!  If I can stay right here at this pace, that’s all I have to do.  I can walk this entire lap and still make it with a few minutes to spare.  So I changed gears to power walk mode and forged on. 

As we passed the half way aid station I called out my thanks to Doug Dawkins and Jimmy Ballard and let them know I’d not be seeing them again.  As we continued on the last couple of miles, I bid farewell to all my familiar landmarks.  The quonset hut maintenance building, the moguls, the special trees that marked my walk break point, ... It was right around here with just over a mile to go that I spotted a very well lit up individual coming from the opposite direction headed towards us on the trail.  It was Paul!!  When he realized that my pace was dropping way off and I hadn’t appeared yet, he headed out on the trail to come and find me.  We all let out a mutual cheer and with Paul and Deb chattering away excitedly behind me, we pushed on. 

The end of the swamp bridge marked one mile to go!  I asked Paul and Deb to get me a clock time so I knew exactly how much time I had left to make my goal.  It was something like 22 minutes to complete the last mile.  Onward!  I could smell the barn.  A couple of little uphills, a few more roots to navigate, and finally, finally, that last little hellacious climb to the visitors’ center came into view in our headlamps.  I was so happy to see that nasty little bridge, those steps, and that final set of gnarly roots that you had to climb at the end of each lap.  

We started hooting and hollering as we made the final ascent.  I could hear answering shouts and cheers from the hardy volunteers, family and friends who were braving the cold night temps to cheer on their runners.  (Tim Preble, was that you calling out my name???)  We crested the hill, came around the corner of the visitors’ center and there it was, the finish line chute!  My eyes focused on the neon time clock numbers as I ran those last few steps to the finish – 14:55:22!!!!  Sub 15 hours by 4 minutes and change!

Mission Accomplished!!! Me and my crew!

My post race reward - a massage right on site at the race courtesy of the phenomenal Denise Dilley Martin!

Final stats:

Lap 11   1:12:07   16:08 min/mile   33^rd place

Lap 12   1:11:42   16:02 min/mile  32^nd place

Lap 13   1:10:49   15:51 min/mile   32^nd place

Lap 14   1:17:41   17:23 min/mile   32^nd place

Race statistics:

77 starters, 52 finishers

I placed 3^rd female overall!

My sub 15 hour finish, qualifies me for a lottery ticket to the Western States 100 Mile Endurance Race (the world’s oldest and one of the most prestigious hundred mile trail races in the world)

The last 48 hours have allowed me some time to let it all soak in.  Nobody is more surprised than me at what I accomplished.  I am absolutely certain that I could not have accomplished what I did without the help of my husband, Paul, and my dear friend, Deb.  Every minute counted out there and you two made the difference.  The race director, park staff, aid station volunteers and my fellow runners were amazing in their support and dedication.  My parents once again came to my rescue and offered to take care of our daughters so Paul and I could disappear for our “romantic weekend” at Weymouth (not to mention all the times they babysat for me so I could get in “just one more long run”).

Honest, she's not pregnant.  That's all my crap (food, water bottles, gear) that she's got strapped around her middle.  She was ready for anything!

What would I do different next time?  Not much.  Maybe try not to snap at my crew, who were so unselfishly giving of themselves only to be badgered and snapped at by a slightly deranged 45 year old psycho ultra runner because her PBandJ didn’t have the crusts cut off or her Vitamin Water drink was the wrong color or my pacer was wearing the wrong vest.  Paul and Deb, I love you both so very much.  You saw me at my best and my worst out there and never batted an eye at offering me your unflagging support no matter how grumpy I was.  Honestly, I guess most of this is mostly directed at Paul ‘cause my deep seated need for decent manners kept me from lighting into Deb much at all.  Poor Paul bore the brunt of my “moodiness” with stoicism and grace and for this I am forever grateful.

My incredible crew chief.

What did I do right? – The planning was key for me.  Planning and discipline about staying on schedule early on and not trying to go out too fast.  We used walkie talkies out there.  Sounds super geeky, but it allowed me to communicate to my crew just when I was coming in to the aid station and what exactly I needed on each loop.  That was awesome!

My greeting upon arriving home.