Kettle 100 Chasing the Dream Part 2... It's going to be a long night.

 

So off into the darkness I go trudging after Scott and Stormy with my gimpy ankle in a wrap that does not fit very pleasantly within my shoe. I'm not about to complain though, mind you, at least the pain seems to be a tiny bit better now that my ankle isn't wobbling over roots and rocks as significantly..every second of "less painful" moments have been few and far between for around the last 20 miles so any kind of relief at this point is ever so much appreciated.

As I'm writing this I realize I probably should have done my race report a bit sooner. I'm sure there are vital pieces to this journey that I am skipping, but the memories that I do have are still quite vivid so I'll just stick with those and hope I cover everything that proved to be a significant part of this story.

So in the first half, somehow I neglected to mention a few key people! Stormy (cousin-in-law),

Annette (sister) and Nicole and Greg were my running comrades for the first 30-77 miles, depending on the person.  Annette had been battling an IT band injury coming into the race and decided after running for a good many miles in pain to pull out around 35 miles.  Stormy, Nicole, and Greg were with me till about mile 50 or so when I felt I had to pick up my pace because my Achilles tendon was hurting me more anytime I would walk than when I was running. Stormy was having some stomach issues he needed to work through, and as much as I wanted to run with my friends I was worried about how long my ankle was going to hold out and decided that getting to the 100K mark as quickly as I could would be my best option at this point. I figured I could assess my injury (soon to be injuries) and wait for at least Stormy to catch up and see how he was doing with his stomach issues and I knew Nicole had a pacer meeting her so I felt good that we would all have someone before going back out.

Back to limping after Scott and Stormy... it was dark... really dark.  I could tell Scott was full of energy and happy to be out on the trails and I felt bad that neither Stormy or I were in very good shape at that point to give him a good pace. Stormy was feeling a little better, but 62 miles tends to take a tole on you so we were not very quick (to say the least). Scott was very positive and patient and did not seem to mind our sluggish pace in the least though. He attempted to keep our spirits up chatting about this and that as we headed out to Rice Lake and some of the most difficult sections of the race.

I will always remember the moment we reached a nice little clearing about 6ish miles out after leaving the 100K mark. I had been having a silent pity party and doubting why I ever thought it was a good idea to sign up for a stupid 100 mile race and cursing myself for not choosing food and a bed over 38 more miles of fun, when the treeline broke and we entered a meadow where the sky just exploded in stars. Scott got my attention immediately focused on the sky and I started started searching for constellations. I spent the next mile or so just thankful for that moment and experiencing the beauty (or curse haha) of emotions I felt after 70 miles of running all day and now under a beautiful star lit sky. That moment was short lived however.. back into the forest and into the twisting ankle biting trail I went.

I remember faintly seeing runners coming back from Rice Lake (this segment is an out and back, so you can really be humbled knowing how far back in the rank of runners you really are at this point!) and feeling envious of their proximity to the finish line. There were a lot of awesome runners out on that course and I felt comfort knowing I was not alone in this, I could see the weariness and pain in the gaits of others as they passed me. I had hoped to be at least an hour or two ahead of where I was at at this point, but that's the thing with races.. expectations always need to be taken with a grain of salt, or many grains. You can have the best training runs leading up to a race and during that "A" race (especially I find this is true with a new distance PR to achieve) but there are so many things that can happen to alter those plans during the length of that race.  I like to set primary and secondary goals for this reason.  My primary goal for any new distance PR is to finish, period. My secondary goal is  time, and I felt given my training runs leading up to this race I had the ability to finish it in around 25-26 hours.  My PR for a 50 mile race in the same forest was a 10:40 something, so I figured if I doubled that time and then add at least a few hours to it since the second half of the race is generally quite a bit slower than the first half, 25-26 was a good goal to shoot for. When injury hits in a race though, all time goals go out the window and finishing becomes both the primary and secondary goal.

I knew I was quite a bit ahead of the cutoff time at this point, but I was worried about a 5 mile section I had coming up after the aid station at mile 77 would really slow me down. During the 50 mile race, Ice Age, the Rice Lake section is by far my favorites. It's a tough section, but during Ice Age you run this around mile 18-26 or something, so you are only half way through and still feeling good. The trail is a combination of rocks and roots, but to the extreme degree compared with the rest of the course. It's also has some of the steepest inclines during the race too. During the day it's quite manageable, but at night with just a headlamp and two injured legs I was really not looking forward to it.

The 4 or 5 miles from the meadow to the next aid station at mile 77 were rough, very rough. The entire time I kept thinking, "ok, I'm just going to get to that aid station and then I have to figure out how to tell Scott and Stormy I just can't go any farther". And this is all I thought about.. how was I going to let them know I was too worried about my ankle and too tired in general to keep going? I felt bad.. I didn't want to let them down. Ok I was just going to tell them, I stopped caring how after another couple miles... this sucks.. I'm tired of hurting so much and I'm just tired. Those miles took forever! Finally though... a clearing breaks and I see the aid station!!

Laura (Scott's girlfriend) meets us at the aid station (she is part saint, I'm convinced) and tries to help us with anything we need. Stormy sits down on one of the random chairs set up, he doesn't look good.. he's pale. I look around and there are a few other runners sitting down, none of them look good... it's like a sick camp for runners. Some have food they are trying to get down or are having help changing shoes, socks, doctoring up blisters, and others are really not moving much, just bundled in a blanket.  I decide it's not in my best interest to sit down... I go looking for food, even though I'm not hungry and the thought of food makes me feel sick. I choke down something (I don't even remember what) and get some water. I'm still thinking of how I will tell my awesome crew and Stormy that I'm not going back out when I turn around and Scott is there telling me that Stormy is not going back out. Well...this now throws a new dimension into my plans.. see, Scott and Laura had originally offered to pace/crew Stormy, when Scott found out we were signed up for Kettle and didn't have a pacer, and then graciously offered to include me into the offer. I never even thought about a pacer, I figured if Stormy and I were running it together it would pretty much be just like any other race.. why would I need to enlist someone to pace me? Well... good thing I had someone like Scott on my side, who, having run a 100 knew the importance of having a pacer. I will say this right now, and probably will repeat myself at least a few times.. I would not have made it without him. Both he and Laura were amazing. Scott consistently assessed my injuries and gait during those last 38 miles that he was with me, took my mind as much off the pain as was possible at that point with good conversation, and just gave me much needed sense of security so I wasn't as worried about myself because I knew he had my back.  I so looked forward to seeing Laura at the aid station too.  This girl selflessly stayed up ALL night to crew me. Who does that? Amazing people in the running community do.

So after I hear about Stormy's decision, my conscience really gets to me.. I have to keep going now and Scott convinces me after we check the swelling on my leg to get to the next aid station and then we'll check it again and decide what to do from there. I say goodbye to Stormy and hope he feels better after some sleep.. he really did not look good and I was a little worried about him. I'm also wondering about my decision as I grab a couple gels for fuel along the way which at this point were the only thing I though I'd be able to keep down, and I keep going. You remember I mentioned that difficult section after the aid station? This was it.  The trail to Rice Lake was looming... and it was as rocky, hilly, and rooty as I remembered but worse now with my legs throbbing in two spots and only a headlamp to look for the rocks and roots. Every little misstep due to a root or rock that put my ankle at even a bit of an angle felt excruciatingly painful. I kept thinking, how the heck am I going to get through 23 more miles? 23 miles is a nice long run on happy healthy legs.. I've never been up against anything like this before. But I made it this far, I had to at least try.. I put far too much time and effort training for this thing! My drive kicks back in for a few more miles...

One the way to Rice Lake I've seen a lot of runners who are on their way back and everyone is down to a shuffle so I don't feel quite as bad that I'm only able to hobble along. Many of the runners have trekking poles at this point too... sure would have been a good idea if I'd have thought about that! I've never used poles in my life, but at this point they sure would have been helpful. But I don't have them, so I make do without them.  At one point Scott tries to find me an adequate hiking stick to use, but it ends up being harder to use than it is a help. Another thing I will mention is that caffeine is a great idea during the latter stages of a 100, Scott had these nifty chocolate things with caffeine in them, lifesavers!

We get to the Rice Lake aid station after what again seemed like a very long stretch (I think it was only 4 or 5 miles though) and it's finally just starting to get light finally. In the twilight hours the aid station looks really comforting, it has chairs set up too, like the last aid station so I break down and sit in one as Scott goes over to the tables to get me a few things. I don't want to eat anything.. everything sounds awful. I take off my shoe and ankle brace and look at ankle which is still quite swollen but no bruising yet. It sure hurts enough to look like the whole thing is a massive bruise in my mind, and in the back of my head I was kind of hoping it might be bruised so I'd have a really good reason to stop! Scott comes back and gives me a list of things they have to eat, I can't think of anything I want to even try eating. They have chicken noodle soup though, and I figure I can drink some broth and grab a few more gels at least. I tell Scott I don't know how much farther I can go, and he tells me something like it's totally up to me.. but how about we get some food into my stomach and wrap my ankle back up before we finalize any decisions. So I do.. and he tells me again that the decision is mine, but how about we start going back (the turn around point, finally!) to the aid station that Stormy had stopped at and then we could re-evaluate things again. I was really not very happy with this suggestion, but it was fair and it gave me room for an out later so I agreed and back out we went.

The way back from Rice Lake takes the same exact trails we took to get there, but at least it was starting to get light out so I could finally really look at my foot placement and avoid tweaking my ankle. It was rather neat to have that experience of watching the sunset, and then rise again out on the trails.  We get back to the aid station where Stormy had left us at hwy 12 and Laura and Greg were there! Greg had been part of my group during the day and had been signed up for the 100K, so he had finished his race the night before and was back along the course. I was surprised to see him and it was good to see familiar faces! I looked around for something that I could force down, and ended up grabbing more water and gels. I've never had a race before where I felt like I couldn't eat.. this was a new challenge to overcome! If I didn't eat, my body was going to crash hard and there was no way I'd make it.. so I had to force whatever I could down. Gels ended working for me from about mile 77 to 100, along with  few caffeinated chocolates from Scott and a bit of chicken noodle soup at a couple aid stations on the way back.  Scott was also good about giving me an aspirin to help control the pain along the way, and that with the aid stations were what I looked forward to those last 23 miles.

So I lost a lot of time on the way to and from Rice Lake, like I had thought would happen.  I'm still quite a bit ahead of the cutoff time, so at least I have that going for me. As I realize what time it is though, I start to get a bit nervous about getting back and hurry through the aid station grabbing my gels on the way.  Scott says he'll catch up and I decided that would be a good mini challenge for me, to see how far I can get before he does... it wasn't very far, but it sure was a burst of energy much needed! After Scott catches up we chat as we go and although I still feel like crap, it's so nice to have his company. We talk about how awesome Laura is, how we know middle child syndrome is for real since we've both gone through it, about good music, and a just life in general. I try not to focus on how every step hurts. But every step feels like torture.

We make our way through the pretty single track trails with mean little roots and rocks, through some more meadow areas, and finally hit Duffin Rd. which is around mile 93!!!!I see Laura again and my sister Annette and husband Tim are there! Laura tells me to smile... I don't feel like it ->>but I do. I've been hurting for such a long time now that seeing those guys almost makes me cry.. my inner child kicks in and all I want is comfort and sleep, but I hold it back, compose myself and figure out what I need as they all hover around asking me what they can help me with. I think Laura helps me change my socks, or my sister does.. I always feel bad about this, it's one of the hardest things about this race is allowing others to help you like this, but again, it is something I am extremely humbled and grateful for... changing my own socks with blistered angry feet and injured legs at mile 93 would be really hard!  I grab more gels, drink, and start moving with Scott, my sister, and Tim by my side. Then Tim realizes there are still 7 miles to go.. and he decides to drive the car back to the finish line while my sister hops onto the trail in jean capris and pink clog shoes (she didn't realize she would be pacing, she's kind of sporadic with decisions like that). It was so nice to have her here with me too now! 

The next 7 miles were some of the most painful I've ever felt in my life. My sister is good at multi-tasking.. she's reading people's Facebook posts as we go and this helps immensely.. people are rooting for me! We're getting close to the cutoff time too.. there's not any room to slow down, if anything I need to speed things up, but it's hard to get past the shuffle with these useless legs! The last section of about 5 or 6 miles of the race are just giant roller coaster type hills used typically for skiing during the winter months. Every down and uphill felt so sharp and painful, I dreaded every one! Scott gives me one Advil.. something I hadn't taken in about 12 hours since it doesn't pair well with ultra races and kidney functioning, but a small dose would help the swelling in my ankle and heel. Off we go through the last bit of ups and downs. I love running, and I love nature.. but I've had it with both! As we get closer, I keep thinking I can hear people cheering at the finish line.. and I don't know if that was what I actually heard, or if I imagined it for a few miles before I actually did hear it. At some point though, I knew I was close and the desire to ignore the pain and get to that finish line took over. I knew I had at least a mile of speed and pain tolerance left in me and knew where I would find a chair!

Scott took the photo on the left after I had made that decision to let it go, and according to him, we had about a 9:15 minute mile that last mile which really, really hurt. But I figured it was going to hurt either way, so I might as well get it over with and hurt more for less time. The sky was a beautiful blue and you couldn't have asked for a prettier day.. but I was pretty oblivious to appreciating anything at that point. I heard people!! And then I saw the finish line. It was what I had been pushing towards all day and night. Tim came out of the crowd and ran behind me with Scott for a couple minutes before they let me cross the finish line on my own. 29 hours and 30 minutes or something close to that. I had about a half hour left and I would have missed the cutoff time. Closest I've ever gotten to one of those, but I can't help feel that I've earned this race more than any other. With around 240 people starting and 130ish finishers, I'm thankful to say I made it into the finishers group, even if it is on the tail end! I've had speed PR races where I felt good and just had a fast happy race, but there's just not anything quite like having a really rough run and knowing you pushed through it and persevered. I couldn't have done it without help though, and I'm thankful for every single person who played a part! After crossing that finish line I thought about a lot of things.. and one of those things was about how the next 100 miles will be better.