What at first appeared to be a moderately challenging winter trail ultra, 5 20 mile loops, moderately technical, just shy of 16,000 elevation gain, became one of the greatest tests of commitment and sheer will that I think I've ever experienced.
I had a quick recovery from my #64, with 2 weeks in between races & a couple rest days, I managed some solid long runs, including 2 -5hr trails during winter storms on the Appalachian Trail to make sure I was happy with my winter gear and to be mentally prepared for inclement weather. I was in for a shock when Monday before the race, the forecast had us sitting in the teens, but as the week progressed the temperature continued to drop to the possibility of hitting -10 wind chills overnight. I was filled with dread. Testing out possible gear to stay warm...
I hit up my amazing friend and US Marine, Amy Adams who runs arctic temperature ultras, for some ideas on how I could survive subzero temps. She took a lot of her personal time to walk me through all the gear I would need, how to stay warm, how to keep bottles from freezing, how to eat, how to keep from getting frostbite, etc. Her information was so valuable. She offered to lend me some of her expensive winter gear, but I didn't feel right about, not wanting to wreck it, and it was just days away anyway, so I decided I'd just try to wing it with what I had. As the forecasted temps continued to drop, I looked at possibly buying some of the gear she recommended, but I would end up spending upwards of $1000 for the right insulated, yet breathable coat, layers of merino wool, wind protective wool pants, waterproof mittens, etc etc. I had incredibly, received another $2000 donation from Jason's modest, quiet and humble friend, Neil, who encouraged him to start up my gofundme... but donation $$ is sooo precious right now, sacred funds I feel, and I couldn't justify spending those funds for just one race. So, I accepted the fact I might have to DNF if what I could pull together wasn't adequate. I did spend $16 on a pair of ice fisherman mittens I found on clearance, some thinner waterproof-windproof wind mittens for $20, & cyclist wind pants for $35. They were a far cry below the quality I needed, but a step up from what I had. I took many layers of fleece tights, all my winter coats and hats, all the thermal shirts I had -picked up at thrift stores, I even grabbed my fluffly fleece sheepie pajama pants I wear over jeans to work at the barn in winter, crammed about 30 pairs of hot hands into my drop bags with favorite snacks and swiss miss hot cocoa, and hoped for the best. (I ended up using everything in this pic!)
The day before the race, the new forecast was showing overnight wind chills @ -25F. I could not even wrap my head around how I could possibly stay warm enough to run 100 miles in temps reaching that cold, especially in the long dark night hours when you're slow, exhausted and already have a difficult time regulating temperature. However, it didn't occur to me even once to back out and cancel the race. Earlier in the week I'd listened to this podcast with David Goggins and a brain specialist, talking about how the intelligence center of our brain is always shrinking or growing, and it grows when we do things that we don't want to do. It increases our willpower and our ability to do hard things, every time we do something we don't like. In our scriptures we have a phrase that says “The Glory of God is Intelligence”... The motto at my daughter's college, BYU! I always thought that meant book learning, & I never did get a high school diploma, childhood poverty circumstances... but that podcast was so enlightening to me. To rephrase with this new study on the brain it could say “The Glory of God is doing hard things”.. that fired me up. I wanted to face the challenge of this frigid race and conquer it. I knew it'd take a miracle. I hate, hate, hate the cold, but I would face it.
I had a prompting from the spirit to grab from the back of my closet this ridiculously huge, thick north-face coat we gleaned from a paramedic in Wyoming nearly 18 years ago, a size XXL. This thing is enormous and heavy...but I figured if all else failed, I would wrap up in that coat and layer with my pj barn pants and maybe survive. That's my typical gear for taking care of livestock in sub-zero temps, we call it my “Russian housewife” look. lol. I spent the night before leaving home crocheting some wrist warmers and a headband out of my sheep wool at home, since I couldn't afford Merino. I thought they might come in handy. They ended up working well but the size wasn't quite right, so I only used them up to maybe -10 windchills :P
Before hitting the road for my 12.5 hr drive to Missouri, Jason gave me a blessing and one thing he felt moved to say really stuck in my mind. That in my heart was a warmth that I would find, and it would help me be warm enough to finish. As I drove the 5 hrs through a cold, windy, snowy WV countryside I pondered on that. It suddenly hit me like lightning that I was heading to Missouri, to spend the night out on a frigid January night. That matters to me, because I am very tied into my Mormon pioneer ancestors. Their legacy of faith has always burned bright in my life and heart. In the mid 1830's, those early Saints suffered severe persecution for their faith. First, they were driven from the state of Ohio and settled in Missouri, but because of their strange new faith and the fact they were anti-slavery moving into a slave state, there was rising animosity until they were driven from the state of Missouri by violent mobs, and eventually a literal extermination order from the governor of Missouri. One January night, their homes burned, men arrested, women and children were driving out into the snow with nothing. The suffering was so great, you could literally follow their path in the snow because they left bloody footprints. Their resolve was so deep, their commitment to their cause was so great, they would suffer everything, including death, rather than give up on their faith. As I was driving remembering this story, I turned on some history podcasts and listened to the history of my church in Missouri. Interestingly, the extermination order wasn't lifted until 1976!! I think it was in remembering that I share their DNA and blood, and that if I had faith and the willingness to work hard, I could find that inner strength that is their legacy to me to finish the miles of this race. Maybe it sounds hokey... my life wasn't at stake...(well, mostly, lol)... but the shared suffering in a Missouri winter inspired me to be true to my cause, running this race to help stop veteran suicide. I don't know if thats what Jason meant in the prayer he offered for me, but I think it was the message God wanted me to have. Remember them, draw strength from your heritage, you can do hard things because you are true to your faith.
Including a link to that tidbit of history in case anyone happens to be interested.
Another inspiration that got me to this start line was a dear friend of mine and Dexters, Shelbi, put our pics through that Viking face generator thing going around Facebook. Shelbi always, always is honoring Dexters Viking spirit so she wanted me to channel it when I was out in the frigid temps. In my head I visualized these photos many times through the race and tried to enjoy this journey with my sons Viking warrior spirit. <3
I met Adam Small, my one man crew for the race at a Sheetz gas station someplace near Columbus airport, Ohio. The wind was already turning bitterly cold. Adam was supposed to run this race with me, but he tore a muscle in his shin and unable to run, he offered to come crew me instead. I at first didnt think it was necessary, the 5 little loops that made up 1 20 mile loop, were ranged from 3.5-5.5 miles long, so there would be plenty of aid stations to warm up in and take care of my needs. I was grateful for the company and we had fun on the road.
I am so grateful he decided to come, in those temperatures and in multiple layers, it was so critically helpful to have him not only help me but help keep my brain focused and on track for the miles, pace, encouragement, and simply what loop I was starting! We chatted about everything. We hit a bad patch of blizzard that had me worried, then a heavy downpour of freezing cold rain, both happily let up by the time we got to St Louis at dark, but that is where the winds picked up.
The race was being held at a boy scout camp, and they had a large indoor cafeteria we could use for indoor camping. We got our packets and bib, then unloaded all our camping stuff from the car in a frigid subzero windchill windstorm. I was in a state of mild shock. The conditions felt so hostile, I couldn't believe I was about to attempt 100 miles in this!! Every time I opened the car door to take stuff out, the wind would catch it and slam it open. I was so nervous I couldn't eat the pre-race dinner so I let Adam stay warm and I unloaded the car in several trips. I needed to know I could go in and out a door into that dark cold wind multiple times. Just a mini mental game that was soon to become my very small world for the weekend!
Adam set up a tent and I brought in my foam mattress and set up next to a bathroom and an electric outlet. It took a long time to feel organized, I was worrying about every little detail. I got taped up for the morning, ready for bed and by 8:30 pm I was in bed reading my scriptures and lights out, for a 4:30 am alarm.
The first thing I did when I woke up was check the forecast.
I nearly had a heart attack...
I was in a state of disbelief. I knelt down on my little foam mattress in prayer and cried. The thought of getting a DNF and not finishing this race, when every finish is so important to my heart and mission of getting to 100 100s, hurt. Especially because the races I'm running for the first 2/3 of this year are being paid for by donations to my GoFundMe...it tore at my heart to know this race was probably going to push me beyond what my body could take, and what my cheap winter gear could handle. I pled with the Lord that if there was any way possible to finish, that he would bless both Adam and I with clarity and strategy to execute it. I prayed for all the runners. I gave thanks for the amazing people whose donations were allowing me to continue racing despite Jason's unemployment, and for the handful of people who, when they read about these temps on my pre-race post, instead of discouraging me with words of caution, showed unwavering faith in my ability to finish. Can't express how much that meant to me, a shout out to Derry, Paul, Jeremiah...there was no hesitation in your belief in me. Thank you. <3
One thing that made me laugh so much, at the pre-race dinner Adam was saying at a slightly louder than conversation level, “Go home, people, save yourself the trouble, the winner is sitting at this table” -meaning me, haha. It was so cute, haha. Every time I mentioned self doubt, disbelief in what I was about to do, Adam shushed me and said "You got this, you're gonna win it!" His encouragement was contagious and though scared, I walked out to the pre race briefing in the morning with a smile and excitement along with my dread.
I believe we had 30 100 milers registered, only 20 or so showed up to race. I looked around the room with so much respect for these tenacious people about to brave the elements! I made quick friends with a girl from Texas named Stephanie, one of maybe 4-5 women who showed up to race.
At 6am we headed off into the snowy, blustery, dark sub zero temps. I don't know that I've ever been so apprehensive.
The first few miles I had some technical issues trying to figure out all my layers and what was comfortably warm while still keeping air flow- my coat unzipped-to prevent sweating.
I was near the back of the pack, I felt like I needed to keep as easy a forward pace as possible while still making time, so that I saved energy for the much colder overnight temps ahead. Running predawn in the cold was actually exhilarating, I met a guy from Montana who was out running his first 100. we chatted about the -35 windchill in the forecast, he comforted me saying that I shouldn't be too afraid of the temps. They get that low in Montana at times during the winter and were definitely survivable as long as you dressed warm and kept moving. I felt 100% more confident after our conversation that I would be able to get through the night. I'd rubbed some hot arthritis cream into my toes, and my layers were just perfect, so at the pace I was going I was toasty warm. With all the vert training I've been trying to do the hills were very runnable, all but 2 or 3, one long steep climb at the start of the first 2 loops.
I didn't need help early on, I'd had sourdough, sub sandwich, pizza and garlic bread for dinner, and a big blueberry bagel for breakfast, I was good on carbs, and I'd been hydrating all day prior on the drive. Every aid station stop early I drank down a bottle of the course electrolyte and grabbed a handful of cookies or whatever from the aid station. I had another baggie of Hannahs good n plentys from Christmas (YUM) and my Ouray gingerbread man from Christmas lol. I saved one for Adam as a trail gift, nice and warm from my pocket (bleh-lol)
I think just about the only time Adam didn't meet me was that first loop after just 3.5 miles, but for the other 20+ aid station stops he would be there ready to help. The first couple aid station stops were a little hectic while we tried to kindof figure out what kind of help I needed but pretty soon Adam was crewing like a well oiled machine and getting everything I could need ready to go before I arrived. This would be very critical. Inside both aid stations it was toasty warm and felt amazing...dangerous! So tempting to stop and warm up...the longer I stayed inside the more my body would want to acclimate to the relief of warm temps, and I would be more likely to start sweating and overheating in all the layers I had, so we really had to get me in and out as fast as possible. Some of those stops became long and drawn out overnight as I had to make clothes changes, but we still wasted no time. Everything was done as fast as possible and Adam was then kicking me out the door, with a reminder of what loop I was starting, 1-5, 5x!! The course consisted of 2 aid stations, one was hit twice, one hit 3x each loop, and they were roughly a quarter mile apart. (guessing) In the frigid cold. Adam ran back and forth on his injured leg between them to meet me at the end of each loop. He clocked the distance and crazily, covered approx 10 miles of ground racing around to crew. Talk about dedication!! I am so impressed. The guy has a heart of Gold. So selfless! He also had my pace pegged and with almost 100% accuracy, had my ETA at the aid stations on point.
My body felt fresh 2 weeks off the last 100. The trail though frozen solid and icy in spots, was rocky but runnable. There were a few little frozen creeks we had to hop over. I took a few minutes to scour the ground for a couple sticks and rocks I could throw at the edge of the creeks for a place of footing for all the runners to use. It came in handy for me on subsequent loops. Reminded me how my pioneer ancestors would build bridges as they moved west, for the people coming behind them. <3 The thought of missing the bank and getting a wet foot was unacceptable in those temps! The course itself was beautiful, rolling hills, horses, trees, gentle slopes & the little creeks... in my faith we believe Missouri (as near to the center of this country) will be a future sight of an American Zion, so it was special to be running on this ground. Later in the brutal cold I questioned God about the wisdom of that lol, I decided maybe the extreme weather is to help keep the population down. You can bet I would not choose to move to MO with these kind of winter temps!
I held off as long as I could during the day from using hot hands so they would feel more effective when I finally started using them, which was probably late afternoon as the wind started to pick up and sent a chill through my layers. I had some amazing moments during the day. With so few runners I had the trail virtually to myself. I had a lot of time to think about my Marines, my pioneer ancestors, my parents, all those I love who drive me to be my best. There was 1 particular moment during the afternoon when the sun came out for a short while. Frozen water crystals in the air, it made the world around me shimmer like it was bathed in glitter, and right about then I saw several bright red cardinals sitting in a tree watching me. If there was ever a sign that I wasn't alone on the trail, I surely felt it at that surreal beautiful moment and I said a prayer of thanks for the ability to be out on such a day, doing something amazing.
A favorite moment of the day was when my son Isaac texted me. He'd just completed his first half marathon race! In 2:02. I was so proud of him, I took the opportunity on a technical bouldery road climb to call him and ask all the race deets and congratulate him. It totally made my day that my son was out running a race. It was awesome. The sun was shining, and I was in good spirits for a long while after that.
Sadly, the sun didn't last...clouds began to roll in and wind got heavier as dark approached. I had done a pretty good job at staying dry and not sweating too much during the day and -10 wind chills, but I was damp, so I did a clothes change before dark of all my upper layers to get rid of the sweat. It ended up being kind of fruitless because after that point for some reason me and all the other runners were in a battle with sweat all night long.
Adam said he witnessed all the runners stripping off their clothes, some of them down to their underwear right in the aid station lol. I picked the bathroom for most of my near nude changes lol. It was the strangest thing. The clothes right next to my body were dry, but as the heat worked its way out and hit the cold air, it would freeze on the outside of the clothes. As it froze, it turned to ice/frost, which would melt from the body heat and slowly water would seep through all my layers until they hit my base thermal layer, so I would have to do a complete change of coats and thermals into something dry in order to continue to stay warm. Only the top of me though, my the 2 layers of pants next to my skin stayed dry throughout. According to Amy I needed much more actual air ventilation in my layers to prevent the sweating or extra heat or whatever, but I really didnt have the proper gear of warm wool layers with ventilation zippers. It began a long night battle with sweat, moisture, and cold. By nighttime I had on 5 bottom layers; long underwear, thermal fleece tights, race leggings, “shorts” from fleece tights to keep my butt warm and finally I put on my pink walmart polyester sheep pajama pants. Terrible for moisture but they are my winter staple at the barn. Up top I had a thin sweat wicking short sleeve layer as my underclothes, an under Armour thermal shirt, arms sleeves made from the tights that I cut for shorts, and a sub zero down jacket I bought at a thrift store.
Once it got dark, a snowstorm moved in. It was quite beautiful though hard to see with flakes falling on my face. My biggest concern was the flakes were melting on my coat which is not waterproof. I had to pull out this AMAZING $5 poncho from Amazon. It's a rain poncho, with an emergency space blanket liner. Probably the best money I have ever spent on gear. Very sturdy, too. I put it on my coat to stay dry from the melting snow. Unfortunately it wasn't breathable (Again, critical accd to Amy) so it probably did make me sweat more. As the winds picked up and temperatures plummeted & I was soaking through the coats, the poncho did an incredible job of blocking the wind. I would sometimes pull it up close to my eyes as a wind barrier. I finally pulled out the big guns and used the XXL 1990s coat from the back of our barn closet, on top of all my layers. With the pink sheep pajama barn pants, I looked ridiculous, lol. My ice fisherman mittens with hand warmers were working well but the thumb covers wouldn't stay put and the tips of my thumbs were at risk of frostbite, so I had to really tuck my thumbs in under my fingers until I could meet Adam to safety pin them shut for me. I am so grateful my fingers stayed relatively warm. Adam said he saw both men and women at the aid stations, dropping out of the race 1 by 1, literally crying in pain because of the cold. Some of the biggest annoyances and struggles was having frost on my eyelashes. It would melt and make my eyes teary so I was constantly wiping my eyes, and in the cold under my facemasks my nose was running constantly, so I was always having to pull down my face covering to do snot rockets, wiping my nose on my sleeve. I thought, I'm gonna cut my face on this frozen snot tonight! Luckily that never happened lol. My mittens and coat weren't exactly absorbent material but the fleece tights I'd cut into hand warmers made a great place to wipe my nose and eyes, just pulled it down over my mitten for east access.
I was wearing speedgoat hokas with a thick insole, injinji toe socks and a layer of wool socks on top and my feet were toasty warm all day. As it got dark, we added a hand warmer into each shoe and I put a plastic bread bag over each foot to help hold in heat and keep out moisture. My feet were the best protected and stayed dry and warm the entire race. The only problem I had was by the last loop the handwarmers were threatening to give me blisters so I took them out in the morning.
Once I was out the door of an aid station, I had to move nearly non-stop. Occasionally I needed to pee, so I would find as big a tree as possible that would block the wind and try in the dark wearing big fat mittens with hot hands in them, to peel off 5 layers of pants/underclothing ...it was so laborious, luckily, I didn't get frostbite on my butt. Haha. Sometimes I'd pull my fingers out of my mitten covers to do something like find ChapStick or get A&D ointment out of my pack...everything I tried to do aside from run out in the dark and cold took sooo much time and effort, and your skin would start to sting if uncovered for more than a minute or two.
I don't know that there are words for what the night was like being out in these temps, in the dark for prob 14 hours. I explained to Jason that it made me think of a snow globe full of liquid nitrogen, beautiful snowflakes blowing in wild gusts of wind, and everything brittle and frozen almost instantly!
I left the aid stations as often as I could with a bottle full of steaming hot chocolate, which I'd carry for a mile or so then drink. It helped warm me from the inside a bit. I didn't eat a lot of food, half a burger, a ham sandwich, a couple cups of chicken noodle soup, I mostly stuck to liquid calories for both speed and hydration. It was a good plan, it kept me fairly well hydrated tho amazingly towards the end I was dehydrated. I drank like a gallon of water in the first few hrs. after the race, I was so thirsty! Adam made great hot chocolate with my perfect mix of 3 packets of Swiss miss to a 16 oz bottle, but after I ran out of that, the aid stations couldn't quite get it right and it was watery and gross, but I got it down anyway. I like the 3 packets because it's almost a solid 600 calories in one bottle and somehow, I don't think that is too sweet. Probably from a childhood of sneaking into hot cocoa powder and eating it as straight powder with a spoon, I love it, ha.
In the lower valleys I was pretty comfortable overnight, but running on the ridges was like a frozen hell. It was prob 20 degrees colder with wind gusts I'd guess up to 30mph. My core stayed warm but my face stung. I had to pull my coat and space blanket liner up in front of my face to try to block the wind and move as quickly as possible. I think because of the cold, my brain was in full survivor mode and pumping my body full of endorphins because I felt amazing, like I was on a gentle high, and I had no discomforts, no sore legs or knee or pain of any kind. It was very surreal. All the usual discomforts I feel 50-80 miles didn't exist, it was purely a brain focus on keeping my body warm and moving forward. Adam told me the temps would bottom out at 6am, and that was when he got the -35 windchill reading...down low, so possibly-probably colder on the ridgeline. The oversize coat I was wearing became my shelter. I tucked way down into it. Adam got 2 hot hands per mitten going for me and it was adequate in the valleys. On the ridge I had to let the arms of my coat that were 6 inches longer than my arms, hang down and cover my hands. I tucked my poles under my armpits and would let my hands warm up deep inside my igloo coat until I was off the ridgeline. This was a repeat hour after hour, ridge after ridge. It was hard and too cold to turn my head upwards, but I did stop on one ridge to turn off my light and see the stars in the bitter cold. A view I'll never forget. I took a moment to say a word of thanks to my forefathers who bore through bitter Missouri nights, to maintain the faith that's so dear to me today.
All night through the aid stations Adam kept putting on a thick layer of A&D ointment to protect my checks from frostbite. I did end up with a little windburn, but I think his vigilance helped save my skin. One loop I did with an inadequate mask and my face was frozen and stinging when I got into the next aid station. Thankfully no damage, I spent 90 minutes trying to blow warm air on my face under the mask to combat the pain. My braid was frozen solid with a layer of frost. My eyelashes, coat, hat, anything that could collect moisture around my face developed a layer of frost.
I think the most difficult part of the night was that in the extreme cold my outer layer of pants had frozen, so every step was like breaking through an ice wall on my legs to keep moving, especially difficult on the climbs. Also, the air became harder to breath. I felt like I was climbing a mountain at high altitude. Even breathing in my face mask trying to warm the air only helped so much. I was working hard to move forward to the point of dangerously sweating and yet the pace was brutally slow. I had been looking at a 30 hr finish, but between that and all the clothes changes overnight, I added a lot of time to my run. It was discouraging. Near dawn and the coldest hour of the day, I was out of dry shirts. Adam literally took the shirt off his back and I stripped down to my underclothes right in the aid station and put his shirt on. Amazingly with my blue beast coat, I stayed warm with that one thin long sleeved race tech shirt.
I arrived at the 80 mile mark, start of the last loop, haggard, exhausted, mentally breaking down after the unspeakable cold and harrowing night. I had 8 hours to make the 34 hour cutoff, and the slow condition I was in, I had a moment of despair that I couldnt make it. This pic of me coming in at 80 miles makes me laugh... I totally crashed the start line of the early morning 20 mile runners.
By 8am the temps had probably warmed to just a -15 degrees, so I had Adam help me pull the top layers of frozen pj pants and buttwarmer shorts off, so that I could move my legs better, the sun was coming out so I hoped it would keep my legs from freezing with just the three layers. Luckily, that worked and I stayed warm enough. Adam got me fueled and back out the door encouraging me and telling me I had plenty of time and that I could do it! I went back out into the cold quickly. Sadly, I left my poles. We had a section that we hit TWENTY times that was an icy, slippery rock scramble. They had a rope to help traverse it thankfully, because it would have been really difficult without the poles. I made it okay, and actually found it was a relief to run a loop without them. It gave my arms a break and let me warm up my hands for a whole loop, and I moved more quickly over a lot of the ground. The sun peeked out for a little while for a goriously beautiful frozen morning, but it didn't last. Unfortunately, there were very icy spots and I fell 3-4 times. Once my knee got pulled pretty drastically underneath me but luckily, I think my legs were too frozen to notice because it didn't hurt or bother me at all once, I got back up. I'd been chasing the 2nd place female the entire race. I saw her as I came into the approx. mile 90 aid station. She said she was so low and that she wanted me to catch up to her so we could finish together. We cried and hugged each other, and I did my best to make up the mile between us. It took me awhile but after abt 40 min I caught up to her. Wow, it was such a welcome wonderful time to have another female runner to chat with. We spend at least an hour together, talking about our races and running careers. This was Stephanie who I met at the start line. It was just awesome to be together and I hoped we'd finish together, a tie for second place. As we talked and hit about mile 93, the sun was long gone. It had disappeared early, and the day was grey, windy and cold. Hovering at single digits with subzero wind chills still. It was hard to hear Stephanie talking behind me, so I'd removed my hat away from my ears and they were starting to burn, and for the first time during the race I started to feel a shiver. I really was so bummed, I wanted to stay with her, I knew she could use the moral support, and I knew it would do us both good, but I reached the decision point that I HAD to pick up my pace or I'd risk getting hypothermia. I wished her well with a promise to wait at the finish and ran ahead. There were a few stragglers still on course. A couple 100k's, a guy with his kids, a 40 miler, but mostly the forest was cold and quiet. My phone had been having issues and shutting off my music, so I must have sang this pioneer hymn a dozen times.
Come, come, ye Saints, no toil nor labor fear
But with joy wend your way
Though hard to you this journey may appear
Grace shall be as your day
'Tis better far for us to strive
Our useless cares from us to drive
Do this, and joy your hearts will swell
All is well! All is well!
Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard?
'Tis not so, all is right
Why should we think to earn a great reward
If we now shun the fight?
Gird up your loins, fresh courage take
Our God will never us forsake
And soon we'll have this tale to tell
All is well! All is well!
I met Adam at the last laid station and knew I was going to finish at least an hour above the cutoff. I was sooo relieved I choked up and gave him a huge hug. I had my last crewing and went for the last loop. It was the most difficult 5 miles of the race. My legs started to ache from the cold, my knee was bothering me, I was going slow, and the worst part is my stomach started to turn nauseous. I knew I did not want to risk having to stop and vomit and potentially get the chills from the havoc on the body, so I had to keep the pace slow to control the nausea. It meant I was less than warm, but not so cold I was shivering. I made steady progress and prayed and tried to picture Dexter with me. My brain felt numb, and I the last 3 miles I couldn't look straight ahead. I don't know if it was being tired or the cold, but I was getting double vision, mildly cross-eyed, so I plodded forward staring at the ground until I finally rounded the last corner and saw the cones and the finish line. Oh, I was sooo happy, sooo relieved that it almost was an agony. I jogged it in and when Adam gave me a hug I totally lost it crying. All I could say was “That was so hard” over and over. Only 6 tenacious people finished this 100 miler.
32:42:52
I was surprised and thrilled I'd won second place female. I had mostly forgotten that when I left Stephanie that she was in 2nd place. Adam helped me into the aid station/cabin and to get my coat and gear off and I collapsed onto a bunk. We talked and then waited an hour for Stephanie to reach the finish line. I grabbed a bag of chips and it felt so good to eat solid salty food!! I think I was just in mild shock, from the extreme temps and the deep overwhelming emotions that I had not DNF'd but finished the course. #65. I called Jason and felt so comforted to hear his voice. Hed been texting Adam throughout the race to make sure I was okay and to give him crew help. It made me happy. He also believed in me and never suggested that I quit. He only told me to remember the inner warmth. I laid in the cot and said a silent prayer of gratitude. My heart so full.
My face got sooo puffy from being frozen!
It felt amazing to take a hot shower, then we loaded up my car and headed back to Ohio to drop Adam off at his car. It was kind of a brutal night for driving. Temps were right at zero, but I was loving the temp cranked to 80! I was exhausted and had to nap every 10 minutes to an hour, & afraid of getting cold in the car while I slept. Jason had given me an extra sleeping bag, so it was actually warm bliss to climb into the backseat under both sleeping b ags and sink into oblivion. We made a 7 hr drive in about 12 hrs with all the naps. We both slept in our own cars at Sheetz because he still had 2 hrs to drive, and I had 5.5 I slept for probably 2 more hrs, then actually had a really nice drive home from there. Was alert and listened to music and podcasts.
Because I'd kept such an easy pace to try to keep from sweating and maintain energy levels, I recovered super quick from this race. One good nights sleep and 1 daytime nap and I was pretty much back to my regular activity levels, aside from the standard elephant leg swelling and sore calves, which are pretty much gone 4 days later. The weirdest side effect from the race was some kind of post-cold trauma. Every night I wake up sweating a little bit and panic checking the layers I'm wearing to see if they are dry! Also checking to see if my face mask is covering my ears. It's been weird and has gone on for several nights, some kind of deep brain trigger after spending the night in deadly temps I suppose. (??)
I am so grateful to have this finish and feel so blessed to have such an amazing community supporting me, the financial support I needed to run this race, and the gift of a cherished friend like Adam, willing to suffer in extreme circumstances himself to help me reach the finish.
There's a possibility I may jump into another race next weekend, depending on the forecast. I'm looking forward to following my friend Amy on her race at Arrowhead 135, run Jan 31 in Minnesota, where temps will likely be just as cold or colder than what I just faced. Otherwise next up is Forgotten Florida on the Florida Trail mid-February, which will be a TOTALLY different kind of race.
I'm thankful for the prayers that saw me through the night, for Dexter, and my warrior Marines, Taylor, Jacob, Jake and Morgan, whose bright shining brave USMC spirits gave me courage to start the most extreme event of my life to date.
I love you boys!
Nate Dogg, never forgotten
Jakes mom, Jennifer, never forgotten
(Actual distance 101.2 Watch died the last loop. )
