(skip this long boring text and go to pictures)
I woke up Friday after having picked up my crew on Thursday to
weather reports that were rain rain rain. Panic ensued. After a hug from my
husband and pep talk from Ken and and Betty Lou, I sucked up and we went out to
explore. Today was spent making sure we (they) could find the aid stations,
reorganizing my drop bags (again and again) and doing a little scenic touring to
the Little Bighorn National Battlefield - site of "Custer's Last Stand."
(pictures coming soon). After we returned it was off to packet pickup, course
briefing and dinner.
Race day3:00 am: wake up to catch the bus to Dayton, to catch the bus to the
start. Its overcast, but not to cold and not raining. Lynn Ballard (fellow
Dallasite) hopped on the bus in Dayton, and we chit-chatted our way to the
start. For my part, mostly nervous chit-chat, but as we watched the sky lighten
in the pre-dawn, I realized I was ready. Once off the bus we located Ed-Bill and
the Canadians (fellow internet groupies), took some pictures, and off we went -
right on time. The start was not as congested as many races, and soon
thinned out. The guys took off a little quicker than I wanted to go, so I was
soon running alone.
The first third is of the course is downhill, losing over 4000' feet in 18
miles. The trail was muddy, but flowers were everywhere. The running was easy
along this section, and I tried to reign in my enthusiasm - if I used up my legs
early in the race, the final stretches could be really bad. I stopped often to
take pictures and walk a few steps. Eventually the trail drops down and through
the Little Bighorn Canyon with the river flowing powerfully alongside. At the
end of the canyon, after stream crossings, waterfalls, and flowers I came to the
first big aid station - Footbridge. Doug, Ken and Betty-Lou were waiting for me
there, my drop bag ready, and took really good care of me. After a quick change
of shoes and socks and a snack it was up "the haul" - 2000' in 3 miles. I don't
think there is any fast or good way up that thing. It was a long hard hike. At
the top there was an aid station that was greatly appreciated. Some of these aid
stations were so remote that the supplies were either horse packed or hiked in!
The next aid station was 8 miles away - the longest distance between any two, so
off I went, by myself in the great wild west. This part of the course is
actually the flattest, and I had hoped to be able to run most of it, but all of
sudden there was a mysterious crippling pain in my knee - It felt like
the joint was totally wrecked - kind of crossed between a cramp and a broken
bone. I couldn't bend my knee while walking downhill. Running was out of the
question. Bad. Very upset. Very angry. I never thought I would just sit down and
quit (those of you who know me know how stubborn I can be) but the emotions
ranged from outright despair to "failure is not option" optimism. Eventually I
settled on a plan of move forward as quickly as possible, hope the pain stops
and that I can still make the cutoffs. If I missed a cutoff and they wouldn't
let me continue that was one thing. If I had wrecked my knee and actually
couldn't walk then they could drag my body off the course, but NO WAY was I
going to stop.
I ended up walking most of this supposedly runnable middle section with
occasional quick hobbling trying to make up time. I made it to the aid station
at Kern's Cow Camp, refilled my water, had a coke, and headed back on the trail.
Somewhere in the next four miles I realized I could run a little. I finally
spotted my hubby and Ken at the bottom of the hill leading into Dryfork aid
station (mile 34), and they walked me in. Betty-Lou was at the top of the hill,
pulling out my clean socks, Ken fetched me cup after cup of Ramen noodles (which
taste surprisingly good at 34 miles). Doug is double-checking that I have
everything that I need, that I'm eating and drinking. I had made the cutoff with
1/2 an hour to spare, and then found out that I had to LEAVE the aid station
before the cutoff. Surprise! Anyway my crew was great, they had my bag ready,
and got me all fed and watered and I left with about a 10 minute window.
Once on my way, the knee felt fine. I could still tell something wasn't right -
it was very tight, but it was functioning, so I started running again. I felt
stronger and stronger as the miles went by, and even the wall (the last major
climb of the race) wasn't too bad. I felt really good, and the trail was an easy
grade except for some steeper sections - and all downhill. The route passes
through the Tongue River Canyon, and the rock formations along here are
fantastic. The weather was still cool out, I was gaining on the cutoffs a
little, and as I left the Tongue River aid station at mile 46ish, I knew I would
make it.
Once I left the canyon there were still five miles of dirt road to go, but I had
plenty of time. I fell into conversation/walk/run with a woman from Virginia
(part of a large contingent) and we headed home. Doug had walked out to meet me,
and he ran in to the finish with us. Vicki and I finished together in 14:16:55.
It was nice they gave us the tie, because neither of us was up to a sprint to
the finish. Doug was snapping pictures and hugging, Ken and B-L were there with
hugs and food, Lynn and Ava (wife) and the Canadians were there cheering as I
came in - I was so glad to see that everybody had made it safe and sound.
My final time was 14:16:55, not last (not even the last woman) but definitely back-of-the-pack. I was challenged by this course, and amazed by the beauty of our country, and by the kindness of everyone associated with the race. Every volunteer at every stop along the way was caring, kind and patient, even to those of us trickling in late. Some of these folks had been up all night, and were still enthusiastic and encouraging when all they should have been interested in was heading home. Many of these remote aid stations had been horse-packed or hiked in, and these folks were looking at having to get back out.
Special, amazing, infinite thanks and love as always to my husband Doug, with whom all things are possible. I could not have completed the training or the race without him. He listened to endless discussions concerning logistics and training, and kept me focused and excited along the way. There is no better sight than to see Doug waiting for me. His hugs kept me going.
Also untold amounts of gratitude to Ken and Betty-Lou Wiseman who flew all the way out from L.A. to help crew and support me in this race. We always have great trips with these guys, and they are the best crew around. Having their combined racing and crewing experience along was fantastic, and having their company is always a joy.
I also have to thank lots of other people who were helpful and encouraging (all of you fit into more than one of these categories): all my amazing friends and family; my trail running buddies both locally (local to Dallas and local to Sheridan!) and on the internet who were filled with advice; and also my massage therapist/training buddy and my chiropractor (don't laugh). I couldn't have done this without all of you.
Goodies:
Pictures
Map and Elevation Profile
Bighorn 50 Miler official website