Sometimes I’m amazed at how quickly the body and mind can adapt. What was once an inconceivable idea became a “once-in-a-lifetime” goal. Last weekend that “once-in-a-lifetime” goal became a “I have nothing better to do” activity. How and when did running significant distances become so matter-of-fact? When did my mind decided running 50 miles took no more planning or preparation than a day trip to Seattle with the kids? I think my friend Olga summed it up when she said that she no longer trains: she is trained. Now she just runs. I think that’s where I am … I run for the joy and the miles pass. They come effortlessly and without preparation. They just are.
Pacific Rim One Day was a spur of the moment race. I had planned on running the Des Moines 6-hour Ultra the weekend before and hoped to log around 30 miles. Unfortunately the weather gods had other plans and brewed up a nasty storm the morning of the race. Snow and rain don’t bother me… strong winds ripping through alder forests are downright dangerous, so I decided not to run. I needed a long run, though, so the following Saturday I drove to a small lake in southwest Washington for the Pacific Rim One-Day Ultra Marathon. The race format consisted of a slightly longer than 1 mile loop around the lake, run as many times as possible in a 24 hour period. I wanted to put in a 50 mile day and stop mid-evening, leaving me plenty of time and energy to drive home. In past years, 50 miles would have been enough to place in the top 5 of the women’s category. This year, however, the race attracted a lot of very experienced and accomplished ultra runners, so I knew 50 miles wouldn’t get me into the top 50%. Even though there was no chance of placement, a far better opportunity awaited me: the chance to spend many hours with some of the Northwest’s top ultra runners. Ultra runners are a very welcoming lot and were more than happy to discuss race management, pacing, and nutrition. They treated me as one of their own, even though I am relatively new to the sport. By mid-day I felt like part of the family. As one new friend explained to me: we are all in this together, we all suffer and we all succeed.
Throughout the day I put into practice lessons learned from Across the Years: change shoes every 3 hours – more often if something doesn’t feel right. Eat often. Don’t be tempted to sit down or stop except to change shoes or clothing. If I get tired walk…. but not too long. Have a plan and follow it. Originally my plan was to run the first 5 miles to warm up, then use 3 minute run, 1 minute walk intervals. My plan changed after watching the ultra guru’s walk anything that even resembled a rise and the two sections of concrete. Life was good and I was running well until I felt twinges of cramping at mile 13. The twinges continued into mile 20, then I started bloating. I walked several miles as I worked to get my electrolytes in balance. By mile 32 everything was good again and I was running effortlessly. I was careful to eat a bite of something every mile. A shot of espresso at mile 35 gave me an extra boost beyond what I was expecting. The sun started to set and the temperatures drop as I ticked off my final miles. I really wanted to finish under 11 hours and with 2 laps to go, I realized I could finish under 10 ½ hours if I picked up the pace a bit. Miles 48 and 49 were my fastest for the race. After passing the lap station at mile 50 I stopped my watch, pulled on my warm ups and completed a final cool down lap. By this time I was freezing so I quickly grabbed my stuff and started the 2 hour drive home.
I woke the next morning slightly stiff, incredibly hungry and only one blister for my efforts. I stuck to my plan and was happy with my time and strong finish. I missed running through the night, though, and regret that I didn’t make plans to run the whole 24 hours. There is something magical about running all night: suffering and succeeding at the same time. I’ll be back next year, ready to go the distance.
