Fit to Print Volume 23 Issue 4 December 2014 | Page 20
M e m b e r Pe r s p e c t i v e
by Andrea Kay
Becoming a Real Runner
50K, Anyone?
Ok, we must be here! We checked in
at the folding table and got our
numbers. There was no designated
area for our things so we found the
nearest log and laid our stuff out on it.
The course was a 10.1 mile loop, so we
would go around three times. The man
gathered the 50kers (about 20 of us) in
t he middle of the trail and told us to
look for the pink flags tied to the trees
for markers. He assured us that it was
nearly impossible to get lost. I wasn't
convinced, but off we went on his 'go.'
I
never really considered myself a
runner. It seems like just yesterday I
was training for my first 5k. Uggg,
that first year of running was horrible,
but I kept at it. Even after I finished
Ironman (a 140.6 mile swim, bike and
run), I still considered myself a 'reluctant
runner' at best. It wasn't until I ran the
Tesla Hertz 50k trail run that I
surrendered to the fact that I was most
likely an actual runner.
It took me 6 hours and 12 minutes to
cover 50 kilometers of trails in Rocky
Point. It was everything Ironman wasn't,
and even though it was a year ago, I
remember it like it was yesterday. Here's
how it went down.
Deciding to do the 50k was easy. It was
local (Rocky Point) and it was inexpensive
($80). Coming off Ironman (ridiculously
expensive and 6 hours away), cheap and
local appealed to me. My partners in
crime came in the form of a bunch of
guys (Team Jackass) that I met at the
Brew Point Brewery Run (best January
race ever!) the year before and had only
talked to a handful of times. My
argument of 'cheap and local' didn't work
to sell any of my friends on the idea of
running 31 miles in the trails of Rocky
Point in October, but these guys were all
in. It was a total jackass thing to do, so
it was right up their alley. Everyone
needs a few crazy running friends!
The race started in the middle of the
woods. There were no volunteers
pointing out the way or giant flags
waving. We parked in the Walbaums
across the street from a small unmarked
dirt lot where there was a hand written
sign pointing into the woods. We made
our way into the trails until we came to a
folding table and a few camping tents.
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The first loop was great. I stayed with
my friends and we swiftly moved
through the trails single file. The only
I guess I'm a runner.
Running that 50k in the
woods was all the proof I
would ever need.
aid station on the course was at mile 5.
It was an 8x8 tent with a folding table
with a man sitting next to it reading
the paper and listening to talk radio.
There were tinfoil trays of pretzels,
m&ms, potato chips, and Twizzlers.
There were a few two liter bottles of
store brand soda as well as a big jug of
water and Heed. The pared down aid
station was definitely not something I
was used to, but I did this race
knowing it would be a different
experience. I grabbed a few m&ms
and went on my way with the group.
At the end of the first loop, we
regrouped at the log. The JAs decided
that the warm up loop went great.
Um, what? Warm up loop? I told them
this is where we were going to have to
part ways. I was barely able to hang
on to their pace the first loop, let
alone pick up the pace. It was nice
while it lasted.
So out I went on the second loop by
myself, and this is pretty much where
the race started for me. At some point
in this second loop I linked up with two
other girls. This was great. I would
have some company. It turned out not
Holidays 2014 FIT to Print
so great. Their conversations were
annoying to me. I didn't want to hear
about what compression socks they liked
best, but I didn't see I had any other
alternative other than to suck it up since
I could not go any faster. Things just
have a way of working out and I slipped
and fell. Total coincidence. I sat for a
good bit of time to gather myself, and
then some extra time for the girls to get
a good distance away. Don't judge.
Towards the end of the second loop (20
miles in) my feet and ankles started to
really hurt. This was a totally different
sensation than I have ever had on a run.
“The wheels falling off the bus” for me
usually means leg or hip pain, not feet
and ankles, and this was freaking me out
a bit, but the whole course was filled
with acorns, pine cones and roots. Just
about every foot strike came down on
something and my feet and ankles were
over it.
Before going out for my last loop, I took
a moment on the log. Another 10 miles
at this point was not a super exciting
thought. Unlike Ironman, there were no
crowds there cheering me along. No
swarms of volunteers at countless aid
stations to take care of any small need I
may have. There were no friends to run
with or music to listen to. It was me and
a handful of other people on this 10 mile
trail in the woods marked by small pieces
of pink cloth… and this log that felt like
home with all of our stuff.
Out I went on the last loop. I tried to
really enjoy it. The day was beautiful
and the scenery was lovely. It was sunny,
but not at all an issue in the trails, and
warm but not too warm. After a certain
point all of this loveliness was lost on
me. Yeah, yeah, beautiful fall foliage
and the sound of the breeze through the
trees. Who cares!?! Everything was
starting to hurt more. I was starting to
second guess the markers. Did I miss
one? Am I off course? I started falling
more frequently. Those darn pine needles
are slippery.
It was then that I really started to think
about why I decided to do this race. It
was a lot of long training runs after I had
already had lots and lots of long training
runs earlier in the year. Was it really just
the cheap price of admission and
geographical proximity to my house?
Obviously it was more than that. A nice
tour of the vineyards would have been
just as nice, right?
When I hit the aid station for the last
time, I stopped and had some soda and a
few Twizzlers. Let me tell you, it hit the
spot. What was once more of a shanty on
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