RACE REPORT ~ Foothills 50k Frenzy!

RunKeeper stats

OK, I've sat down at least a dozen times to do a race report for the Foothills 50K Frenzy (which took place on Saturday, October 5, 2013) and somehow found myself not quite ready to do it yet. It's taken 10 days, but I'm ready now! It's funny, the delay is not because the experience was SO profound. In a way, it's because it's somewhat the opposite. I feel almost a sense of, "Meh, I trained, I did it. No big deal."  This, I do not understand, because by all of my counts the Frenzy was pretty epic!

Thirty-one miles. Eight and a half hours. Six Thousand feet of climbing (and descending)....  and it doesn't feel like a huge deal?!

But, let's back up a bit. Quick recap of my "Couch to 50K" experience -- In January 2011 after twenty largely-inactive years I started walking, then running, again. That first summer, I did my first 10k in twenty years. (Ran/walked my way to a 90 minute finish!) The next year (last year), I repeated that 10K in 58 minutes and ran my first and second half-marathons ever (May 2:20 downhill course and October 2:15 rolling hills!). Then the plan was to do a marathon or two this year, and if that all went well, to try ultras in 2014. Well, I became something of an accidental ultrarunner when I skipped right past the marathon and did a (flat!) 50K this Spring instead.  And I was hooked!


I accelerated my plans, and set my sights on the Foothills 50K Frenzy THIS year, instead of next. I downloaded the training plan from the website and entered it into Excel. And kept running. It seemed that every week RunKeeper would chirp at me with another email, "Congratulations! You have set a New Personal Record" for time, for distance, for elevation, for calories burned. (But not pace! haha)  I logged a lot of "firsts" this year. On New Year's Eve I ran farther than 13.1 miles for the first time, and each mile after that was a first. I had my first 100-mile-month, 150-mile-month, and my first 50-mile week! I took to the hills and started logging trail miles. I had a breakthrough on handling the uphills. I gained confidence on the downhills. I could tell I was getting stronger. Each time I repeated a trail it seemed just a little bit more "run-able" and my heart didn't pound quite as hard at the top.

September 2013

September was a wet month, relatively speaking, for these parts. The weeks leading up to the event were unseasonably cool and wet. I was worried about the condition of the trails, afraid they'd be too muddy and we'd be forced to run the alternate route. However, I needn't have worried. We had a couple of dry days, and the morning of the race was clear as a bell, but chilly! In the mid-30's.

It's ssssshowtime!

At 3:33 AM my alarm went off, and I rolled out of bed. All my clothing and gear was laid out waiting for me where I had put it the night before. I sleep-dressed in my reliable cold-weather kit. From the bottom up that's: trail shoes (Brooks Cascadia this go-round), knee-high wool-blend socks, long tights, short tights on top of that, two long-sleeved tech shirts, race hat, gloves. (Two layers from head to toe!) Since we'd be starting in the dark, I had to make a choice about the glasses. Did I wear my "regular" glasses all day, or try to carry my prescription sunglasses with me and switch when it got sunny? Since my eyesight is not THAT bad, I decided to go sans glasses in the dark, and just put on my sunglasses when the time came.

Course map + Pace chart

I did one last inventory of my gear: running vest packed with 2-liter bladder of water, lip balm, phone, hankie, fresh pee-pad, pepper spray, headlamp!, course map/pace chart, and food. I took fig newtons, aussie bites, and Honey Stinger gels. Promptly at 4:15 AM my carpool ride pulled up. We chatted amiably about all kinds of things on our 40 minute drive to the start -- almost anything but the event! I was getting so anxious and exited at this point I was trying to take my mind off things a bit.

The early starters and their supporters!

We arrived at the starting area just before 5:00 AM, in time to cheer on the early starters. These folks are my people; my heroes. Back in April, I took the early start option for my first 50K on the Weiser River Trail. I wasn't even halfway before the folks who started an hour after me began to overtake me, and it continued that way all the way to the finish. I know what it feels like, what it takes to keep on keepin' on, doing your own event, not letting it get to you that folks who started an hour after you are still going to finish hour(s) ahead of you. It would be the same for this corps.  It was my honor and privilege to see them off.

I sure had a hard time with that hour to kill before the 6:00 start! I chattered mindlessly at Andrea (my ride) who suffered me patiently, I fussed with my gear. I tried a costume change. I checked in and received my bib, and futzed with that. Then, suddenly, it was time for business. I was in the porta-potty when I heard the National Anthem! I hitched up my tights, and hustled to join the tail end of the pack shuffling off the start. It was time to take off the training wheels and do a REAL ultra!

Now, if you've ever watched the start of an ultra, it's quite amusing. In other races, at GO! everyone takes off like a shot. In an ultra, everyone takes off at a trot. Pacing oneself is necessary from the very beginning. Based on my training runs, I thought I could keep an overall average pace of 15:30 (including aid station time), and finish in 8 hours.  I started my RunKeeper to keep track and shortly realized I had incorrectly entered the intervals to remind me to eat. Instead of every thirty minutes, I had entered thirty seconds! I had to fix this. I dropped down to a walk, cancelled the activity, edited my intervals, and started back up again. It cost me a couple of minutes and put me dead last, but no matter. I had 30.5 more miles to find my place in the pack. My top goal was to finish strong, under my own power. Anything more than that was just gravy.

♫ When the lights go down in the City
and the sun shines on the SAGE ♫

After the excitement and energy of the start, we quickly dropped into darkness and quiet. It was a new moon, so the only light came from 130 headlamps tracing a chain of fairy lanterns winding up the first hill. The race director had marked the trails with LED lights, further adding to the magical feeling. As we rose, the lights of the city twinkled brightly below us. I knew it was hopeless, but I tried to take a picture anyway.

I slipped past a couple of runners and settled into my rhythm. I trained on this course for the last five months, so even though it was dark I could make out certain landmarks and chart my passage. Sooner than expected, I was at mile 4, ready to turn from the foothills and begin some real climbing. Then, just as suddenly, it was light. I switched off my headlamp. I reached the first aid station at the 10k mark (6 miles) in 1:40. I topped off my water, took a salt tablet and a swig of HEED, and moved on. Only 40k (25 miles) to go!

The next section was wonderful -- After that first big climb, we got a respite on the trail that traversed across the hills for miles in and out of little gullies along the way. I passed another couple of runners, continuing to work my way up from caboose. Then, a fast drop down into a gulch, and at mile 9, after a pit stop, time to start climbing again, 1700 feet to the Ridge!

Climbing!
(photo courtesy Jeff Black)

On this climb, I met a couple of the early starters. We shared words of encouragement, and continued putting one foot in front of the other. In due time, I crested the ridge. I heard the next aid station before I saw it! Again, I topped off the water in my pack, took another salt tab and a shot of HEED. I don't have a sensitive stomach, but it is always risky to eat something you haven't practiced with; however, I threw caution to the wind and ate a couple of Fritos. They were the best Fritos ever. (Elapsed time 3:10)


I didn't have much company on the climb up to the ridge, but now we had a bit of an out-and-back, and I encountered a couple dozen fellow Frenzied folks. Lots of smiles, lots of high-fives. "Way to go!" "Looking good!" "Keep it up!"  It was cold up on the ridge. My ears were numb, and my nose wouldn't stop running. There was a fringe of frost in the shadows and on the puddles! At the turnaround about mile 12, we were to take a popsicle stick as proof that we didn't cut the course. The man volunteering for this duty asked me what color stick I wanted. I just wasn't up to that kind of decision making! I considered asking for red to match my hat, but instead said, "Surprise me." (For the record, I got a green one.)

About halfway, looking down on Adalpe Summit.

I was anticipating this point, because it was nearly all downhill from here! I passed the Ridge station one more time, dropped off my popsicle-proof, grabbed a few more Fritos, and ran off in high spirits.

For the next stretch I entered a state of "un-time". I knew time was passing, but I didn't feel the passage of time. It was just me, moving, being. I noticed some cyclists and waved. I leapfrogged with a nice couple my age and took their picture. I ate some food. I passed the halfway mark right at 4 hours, on pace. I saw a family off the side of the road picking apples. I ate some more.

The next aid station at mile 18 marked the end of my reverie. Time to top off the water again, take another salt tab and swig of HEED, and off to tackle the next climb, back up and over into the gulch from which we parted many miles ago. Four miles later, I arrived at the next aid station at mile 22, still on pace for an 8 hour finish! They had Fritos, but the last ones were repeating on me, so I passed. I had some Fudge Stripe cookies instead. The temperature was finally rising; I was returning to the lower hills. I decided to shed the tights. After a pit stop, time for one last climb, back up to what was the first aid station, hours and miles ago.

Sooooo tiiiiiired ....

Bring it!

Mile 24. 6 hours in. I'd only run this far three times: in April when I peaked my training for Weiser River Trail, in that event later that month when I went to 31 for the first time, and just two weeks ago when I peaked training for this event.  Facing me was one of the gnarliest trails in the foothills. Steep, slippery, rocky ... I would be tackling the most technical part of the course on tired legs, as I ran to the marathon mark and beyond, for only the second time ever.

Again: top off the water, take a salt tab, swig HEED, eat an aussie bite. I mentally steeled myself for the challenging trail ahead. Gave myself a little pep talk, "You can do this!" Reminded myself that really, as conservative as I planned to be, the worst that would happen is my feet would slip out, and I would sit down hard on my butt. So it's off again, at a conservative pace. I minced my way down without mishap (hooray!), and passed another few runners who were flagging this far into the effort. My training was paying off -- I felt strong and steady, even after 6+ hours and a marathon, with 10k to go.

The End is Near!

Finally! The last aid station at mile 27. Time 7 hours 20 minutes. The end is near! Water, heed, salt tab, PB&J (and a couple more Fritos).  I knew the last 4 miles well, rolling, sweeping single-track across the high desert sage. I just needed to keep my wits about me and bring it home.

Run a while, walk a bit, run some more. I passed a couple more people. One foot in front of the other gets 'er done. Steady, steady. Relentless forward progress.

And then, at last, after one last set of stairs (! Race director humor. Humph.), the home stretch! I didn't have a sprint finish in me this time, but that's okay. My dearest Husband and little Deedle were waiting, and the girl ran in the last stretch with me. The emotions welled up -- I did it! I set a goal, and I took the steps, and I did it.

The finish was like the slow-motion at the end of a movie. I saw the faces of my family and my running buddies who provided so much support, advice, and inspiration, reminding me that I didn't do this alone.

At the finish, I got a sandwich, chips, and a cookie, collected my finisher's award, and then the "Mom" part of my new status as "Ultramom" kicked in. The family had been waiting for me for two hours, so as much as I wanted to linger, rest, chat, cheer in the runners behind me, right away it was time to go home and back to real life.

Official time = 8:27
Position = 109 of 138
(I started dead last, so I passed 28 people on the course!)
GOAL = met. I finished strong, under my own power.