50 Mile Race Report

I did it. It’s over. 50 miles was the goal, and 50 miles was completed.‍

The last couple of weeks hadn’t been easy. The best way I can explain it is that I became “numb.” And it wasn’t just with training—I felt like I wasn’t feeling anything in life. I think I was experiencing burnout. That, combined with calf and heel pain that had been coming and going during training, finally started to wear on me.

But I continued with every physical and mental preparation I needed. It wasn’t easy, but I kept reminding myself that I had worked too long and sacrificed too much not to go into the day as prepared as possible. A couple of not-so-great weeks shouldn’t derail over 40 weeks of training.

When you look at it from a larger scale, I’ve been working toward this goal since 2009 when I started running. No, I didn’t set out to run 50 miles back then, but after it took me weeks just to run for three minutes straight, I promised myself I’d keep going until I found my limit. I put no expectations on what that limit would be. Frankly, that’s one of the reasons I think I’ve been able to accomplish ultra-marathons—I never said, “I can’t do that.” I just kept going.

Remembering that my goal has always been to see what I’m capable of was a big part of my mental preparation. I wanted to show the world that ANYTHING is possible when you challenge yourself. To be honest, that’s why I share my journey. I want YOU to believe that if I can do something hard, so can you. It doesn’t have to be running; it can be anything you set your mind to. If you ask for help, make a plan, and put in the work, YOU can make it happen. There will be setbacks, and you’ll have to overcome unexpected obstacles, but you can push through.

The “numbness” I was experiencing was actually helpful in the days leading up to the race. I didn’t get nervous or lose focus from excitement because I wasn’t feeling much of anything. I focused on my plans, methodically checking off tasks from my list.

On race morning, I woke up to my period. Not ideal, but I couldn’t let it get to me. I counted my blessings that I hadn’t been feeling any PMS symptoms, likely due to the numbness. And again, I had worked too hard to let it be a factor.

The next few hours flew by. We drove to the park, set up a tent with all my food, drinks, extra clothes, etc., in the dark. I warmed up, and the race began.

I stuck to my planned pacing, focusing on fueling and counting loops until I stopped for quick breaks to grab what I needed. The course was short loops, and my plan was to stop every four. For the first four hours, I was a little ahead of where I needed to be, but around 20 miles, I could feel my legs fatiguing earlier than expected. I wasn’t discouraged—I knew it would happen eventually—but it came sooner than I’d anticipated.

As fatigue set in, my pace slowed, even though I felt like I was putting in the same effort. I made a quick decision to switch to run-walk intervals, and it immediately made a difference. It wasn’t a strategy I had used in training, but it was clearly the right call.

As the miles continued, I was managing fine. It wasn’t easy, but I expected that.

Just after mile 41, I felt a sudden sharp pain in my right foot. I wasn’t sure what had happened, so I limped to a nearby bench, took off my shoe, and discovered that a blister on my pinky toe had popped. I called Joe to let him know I’d need first aid when I reached the tent. It was less than a mile away, but it was painful.At the tent, Joe found another blister on top of the first one. “This is going to hurt,” he said, and I screamed as he popped, drained, and wrapped my toe. We checked the other foot and found more blisters. By this time, my screaming had drawn the attention of the race director, who offered additional supplies. I bit into my arm and screamed into a towel as Joe finished bandaging my feet and helped me put on new socks—an equally painful process.

I looked at Joe and said, “This wasn’t on the list of reasons I can quit. I’m not stopping.” Without skipping a beat, he replied, “No, it wasn’t. It’s not going to feel good, but it’s no reason to quit.” I stood up, feeling the pain in my feet and quads, but eventually, I got back into a jog, and the pain began to subside.

The next several miles were a blur. I had been consistent with eating and drinking all day, but the unexpected stop threw me off. While I didn’t completely stop fueling, I wasn’t as consistent.

At mile 46, adrenaline took over. My pace picked up slightly, and I knew I would reach 50 miles, no matter what.

At mile 49 I got a low battery warning on my Garmin, and minutes later it completely shut down. It should have lasted the whole day, but I was constantly getting texts and push notifications which is the only reason Joe and I can think of that the battery shut down so quick. While I had adjusted some settings that week, that was not one I had touched. I was close to being back by the start of the loop and because it was minutes until the end people were cheering and yelling loud. I had to scream at the top of my lungs that my Garmin died. While it sucks that I don’t have that completed metric, I was more worried about just making sure I ACTUALLY did the distance and I wasn’t going by the “official race” stats (more on this later)

Luckily my coach (Jenn) had made a surprise appearance about an hour earlier, and made the quick decision to jump in with me and start her Garmin. I knew it had died right around 49.3 and even though I had some untracked distance before I made it to her and she started recording, I just wanted to have no doubt I made it to 50, so we would do at least .6 together. That last 20 minutes of the race is off the loops and a shorter out and back of .47 miles. I passed through the timing mat at 11:58 and some change and said to Jenn, “just keep going, let’s just make sure I get it.” We went about .1 of a mile out, turned around and I hit .67 miles before getting all the way back to the finish. But I was done. 50 miles.

I sat down. I explained to Jenn that I didn’t want to get to close to the timing mat since I had already crossed it, even though it didn’t actually matter at this point. Even without my Garmin dying my results weren’t going to match up to the official race results. When a race course is measured, it is done at the straightest shot possible and it’s nearly impossible to run it completely to distance (ie a straight line the whole time) when it’s a winding path like we were on.

At one point, my goal was to have a race “official” 50 within the 12 hour time limit. After the blisters, I pivoted to my other goal of 50 miles no matter how long or what it took. Yes, it would have been great to hit that official 50 in 12 hours, but I’m not going to let that take away from the fact that I still put in all the miles. (If you are curious, the official race results say I ran 48.53 miles.)

I’m glad I did it, but I am also glad it is over. I’m ready to workout and eat like someone that isn’t training for a giant event. I think races and goals around them are great, but it’s not something I want to do ALL the time. Once I can start moving like a normal person again (including standing up without pain and losing all this swelling in my feet) I’m looking forward to doing some heavy strength training again and working on becoming a more efficient runner.

Some shout outs and thank you’s-

I owe some really bright spots in my day to some friends who showed up completely by surprise- Paula, Bill, Tina, and Noah. It was awesome seeing your smiling faces. And even though it was Sarah’s birthday, she (and Tim!) didn’t let that stop them from being there like they always are. My sister Susie was a told MVP because she gave up almost her entire day to take care of Lila and drop by the race. Chris and Lindsay did a long haul of race support (having no idea what they were getting into) during the hardest part of my day.

To Philip Mara (Race Director) for giving me the warm fuzzies all day. Quick side story- for those of you that don’t know, before Level Wellness I worked for the city of Sunset Hills in the Parks Department. Several years ago, Phil approached us about putting on this race in one of our parks. I was excited to help him. At the time we met and went over the requirements, permits, insurance, etc his reaction was “that’s it??? That’s all you need me to do? That makes it so easy on me”. On Saturday, he kept telling people how I made the race possible back in the day.

Dr. Tori Hopler worked relentlessly to get me in my top physical shape for this race. She is not only a great friend, but a very talented massage therapist turned Chiropractor that knows me inside and out after years of working together.

My coach, Jenn, for using her talents to help me get this done. Thank you for being the perfect coach for me. And I am very glad you were there Saturday.

And finally, to Joe. A lot of this year was focused on me and my training. Your love and support couldn’t have been any better. I am so thankful for you and how understanding you are of what it takes to do something like this. I knew when I told you that quitting wasn’t an option, you understood the assignment. I love you.