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. 20 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 continued on page 27