What in the world possessed me to take on the challenge of a
50-mile race? As it turns out, several
things all congealed at the same time that made this sound like a good
idea. I was feeling great after a year
of solid training using the Maffetone method and changing my diet. I had come back from my first race DNF in
September at Flatrock to complete 30 miles in an unofficial 8-hour trail event
(no thanks to the government shut-down which turned my October race into a fun
run). The kicker was my friend planting
the seed of “what if” in my brain in November.
She laid out all of the reasons why this was THE 50-miler for us.
The Prairie Spirit 50-mile race is hosted by Eric Steele and
his company Epic Ultras, they also host Flatrock. The Prairie Spirit Trail runs from Ottawa to
Iola in Kansas and follows an old rail corridor. In other words, you can’t find a flatter
course. The trail surface is neither
technical nor pavement: an easy-on-the-body crushed limestone/dirt trail with
no obstacles. The race is an
out-and-back. The event consists of a
50-mile race and a 100-mile race, which meant that the 50-mile event would have
a very generous cut-off. Why did all of this
matter? I was still stinging from the Flatrock
DNF, still wanting to prove to myself, and yes, to Eric, that I had the
tenacity, the strength, and the endurance to see the race through to the
finish. Yes, I still needed a redemption
run.
As often happens when someone suggests something crazy, the
idea took root. I mulled it over for a
few weeks, discussed it with my husband, and finally decided to bite the
bullet. I told my friend that I was on
board and we both signed up. Even at
that point, it seemed crazy and completely irrational. Neither one of us wanted to tell anyone
though, this was to be our secret. Why? Speaking for myself, I was still nurturing
the fragile confidence that I could see this through. I didn’t want to invite any criticism or
questioning. I had enough of that coming
from myself, I sure didn’t need any from outside sources. There was also the promise of being able to
eventually have a “grand reveal”, a “look what I can do all by myself”
event. The secrecy of it was both
because I doubted and I believed, a strange contradiction.
Training for the event would start as soon as we finished
our next marathon: Tecumseh in early December.
Midway through a November long run training for that race, I developed
severe knee pain. Keep in mind, this was
just a few days after I signed up for Prairie Spirit. Bring on the panic. I iced and rested the knee, tested it again,
pain worse. Ramp the anxiety up another
notch. I had already decided that Tecumseh
was not going to happen for me even before a snowstorm forced its rescheduling. Knowing that I needed to be healthy in order
to even start the 50-mile training, I immediately got myself to the doctor and
started PT. Honestly, I thought my
chances at getting patched up and back to training were slim. The doc diagnosed a couple of issues,
including ITB pain, but nothing that would force me out of training
completely. I did my exercises and they worked their
magic. Training got off to a much slower
and later start than I’d planned, but I was whole and ready to go by the end of
January. I was a good bit behind
schedule, but hoped that my base mileage from the previous year would carry me.
I had used the Santa Clarita Ultrarunners program for my 50k
training and it seemed to work well for me, so that was the plan I would follow
for the 50 mile. Basically, it calls for
5 days of running a week, with back to back long runs on the weekends. I was
again going to be heart rate training, so the pace was slow and easy for every
run. The next hurdle to training was the
coldest, snowiest winter in years. Not
only was I battling the elements, but the dismal weather brought on a serious
case of seasonal affective disorder. I
dealt with that combination by doing a lot of my training indoors. And by a lot, I mean almost all of my shorter
midweek runs and several 20+ mile runs on an indoor track that was 6.8
laps/mile. Folks have told me that they
admire my perseverance at doing those indoor runs. It wasn’t any strength of character that got
me through those runs: it was intolerance of cold, borderline depression, and
fear of DNF’ing at the race. It sucked
but it got done.
I was fortunate that the ITB issue didn’t flare up again,
all of those laps on the track very well could have triggered a relapse. The most significant physical issue that
worried me was my feet: I couldn’t find
a pair of shoes to suit me. Blisters
plagued me all winter. I tried several
shoe models trying to find the “magic fit”, no luck. I tried different socks, Body Glide, and 2
Toms but no matter what I tried or where I ran, I would get blisters with every
run over 3 or 4 miles. I went to the running
store for another shoe search and Ben assisted me in trying on several
possibilities. When he offered up the
Altra Lone Peaks as an option, I told him I already had those and that they
were my trail shoe. “Why don’t you wear
those?” he asked. Genius. I had it in my head that because this wasn’t
going to be a tough technical trail that a trail shoe would be the wrong
choice. How did I miss something so
obvious? If a shoe works on one surface,
try it on another and see if it works there, too! Several test runs on the road and I knew my
problem was solved. Sometimes the most
obvious answer eludes me.
My training didn’t go perfectly, I had horrible long runs
and successful ones. I had doubts but I
was also extremely motivated to avoid failure.
My husband was going to crew me, my friend would be running the race,
and about a month before the event, we finally shared the secret. Letting other folks in on the plan was
scary: it made it real. Fortunately, there was no criticism. Instead, there was excitement and
encouragement, my running community is simply amazing.
In the final week before the race, the list-making and
weather-stalking began. The weather was
shaping up to be absolutely gorgeous, so good in fact, that I had to completely
change my plans for clothing. One last
test run to be sure that all clothing was cooperative, a few shopping
excursions to get food, gear, and supplies, and it was time to pack. A last minute registration meant that a third
friend would be running the event with us and that was a welcome
distraction. He had good potential to
win and that fueled my own excitement.
Everything was really shaping up for a great event and on Thursday, I
was excited to finally be Kansas-bound.
