The Summer Ultra Journey 2012

One may think that the hardest part of running a marathon and an ultra marathon 12 hours apart is the pounding it takes on your body, the pain involved, or the fatigue factor.

What we found is the logistics involved in such an adventure are really the hard part.

Our journey began long before this race at Badwater. After hundreds of miles on that epic journey, Colby and I drove to Oregon City, Oregon to pick up my daughter, Amelia (Mimi). We drove a total of 1,900 miles visiting the Jelly Belly factory and family.

We were home for 18 hours before I packed the car again and drove 175 miles to Yuma, Arizona. Brady was there for work and I was tired of being apart. Our week in Yuma included hours in the pool and a couple of very hot training runs.

After our visit to Yuma we enjoyed the comfort of home for a whopping 22 hours before we were back in the car to begin the first day of our Fullerton Trail Marathon/ET Ultra/Vegas date weekend.

Friday, August 3 we drove to my friend's house in to babysit her 7 month old daughter and 2 year old son. I love these kids, but I have to admit I forgot how much work toddlers and infants (especially both at once) can be. When we went to sleep that night I already felt like we had been running.

A 4:40 wake up got the real journey started. Brady and I ran a CAR Marathon on the Juanita Cooke trail. We enjoyed the company of CAR regulars and were thankful for an overcast cool morning.

Brady did not enjoy the race after mile 20. He told me, “I am actively bonking.” I pushed him through it with the promise of real food after we were finished. When we were finished we thanked Charlie, the RD, gathered our medals, and headed to a spaghetti lunch.

After arriving I was sure the Spaghetti Factory did not want us eating in their establishment in our present trail marathon condition. So we took a baby wipe ‘shower’, changed into clean clothes, and enjoyed spaghetti with reckless abandon.

Immediately after lunch, we were back in the car for the journey to Vegas. I was wearing the very fashionable combination of linen capri pants and Zensah calf sleeves :)

The trip took longer than normal. We were tired, had hydrated a little too much for a 4-hour road trip, and had to switch drivers a few times to rest our eyes.

We arrived at 6:00 pm. I asked our friends Deb and Rob if we could use their room to change and get ready for the ET ultra. They were nice enough to oblige. We took a quick real shower and were back in running gear.

We made our way over to the packet pick up. It was fun to walk into a room full of old and new running friends. It always feels like a reunion of sorts.

RD Joyce had been very nice to give us a designated Maniac/Fanatic bus, membership has it's privileges.

After a solid hour driving our bus pulled to the side of the road. A large unidentified ?flying? object had struck the windshield of one of the buses in our convoy. Glass was everywhere and the driver had been cut. Joyce came on to see if we had empty seats and before too long we were back on the road.

We arrived at the start line to a somewhat chaotic beginning. We were first told we could hang out and then were told that the race would start on time and to get off the bus. We had just enough time to fill our water bottles, find  glow bracelets, and use the port-o-potty.

Start time: 12:00 am, Sunday, August 5th. As soon as we started running, I felt the full weight of a sandwich I ate on the bus. My guts ached and lurched. I saw a guy throwing up and I thought I may join him. I hurt, but surprisingly, it wasn’t my feet or legs. They felt amazing. It was my stomach.

Brady suggested we run a strong 3 miles and then do a run walk the rest of the night. We knew there was a hill until mile 13, so saving gas in the tank was important. Sounded good to me, but as I thought about it, I was just hoping my dinner was going to stay down.

At mile 2ish we ran into Kimberly Miller. Although I met Kimberly at several races, we hadn’t had the opportunity to talk much. Kimberly’s amazing husband Michael finished Badwater this year, so we shared stories from that experience and many others. Before I knew it 4 miles and more had gone by. I felt better, but the pain, heartburn, and overall yucky feeling would come and go most of the night.

Brady, Kimberly, and I trudged along up the hill. Stronger some miles than others, but we were happy with our time. My goal was to complete the race better than I did last year, and we were right on pace. We shared many funny stories throughout the night. One particular quote that sticks out is from Kimberly. She said, “you are not a real ultra runner until you have pooped your pants.” We repeated the line several times and found it funny every time. It is always fun to think about what you find entertaining in the middle of a race in the middle of the night in the middle of the desert.

 We finished the first 20 miles in 4 hours, 40 minutes. I was happy with that time, considering the hill was behind us and we had already ran 46 miles so far for the weekend. We passed the finish line (always sucks to have to do that) and headed out for the last 11.7 miles.
It didn’t take long for us to run out of gas on the out and back. Nothing specific went wrong, but I guess it was another round of “actively bonking”. We ran a little and walked a lot. We said hi to may faster runners going by. We laughed. We enjoyed the sunrise. I came out of the port-o-potty to find Brady laying in the road. New definition of road kill?

After 32 hours (or so it seemed) we hit the ultra turn around. There is no mile marker out there I am not sure what time we arrived at the ultra turn around, but it was a huge milestone to get to head directly back to the finish. We continued our shenanigans and slowly ticked off the miles.

Brady was the pusher and we were the complainers. He kept telling us to hurry up and would run a little ahead of us to get us to run. I bitched at him and told him I hated him on many occasions. He tuned me out (a skill he is very good at). I was happy that I was able to run when he pushed me. After 50+ miles and no sleep, I was still able to move without too much pain or other issues. Although I pretended he was making me mad, I was thankful to see that my body was able to react and run every time I wanted. We came into the finish, passing several people on the way.

We crossed the finish line, holding hands. My best friend and mate on my left and a running role model and friend on my right. I was a lucky girl. 57.9 miles on foot, no sleep, hundreds of miles in the car, 2 medals, 1 huge accomplishment.

After changing our clothes and greeting other finishers, we attempted to board the last bus headed for Vegas. We were told that there wasn’t any room. After Joyce walked around a bit she informed us that there wasn’t going to be another bus arriving for 2+ hours. I was not happy. The bus accident had occurred at about 11:00 the previous night, so how was it NOW that we were stranded? Why weren't accommodations made for us earlier?

I am not sure if Joyce sensed my outrage or if she felt bad for the situation, but she got busy asking people hanging around if we could get rides back to Vegas. Eventually all of us were provided seats in cars of strangers and made our way out of Rachel (no man’s land) Nevada and back to Las Vegas.

The weekend did many things for me.

1. I learned that I could run a marathon, drive for hours, and then run again.
2. I learned that I could run all night without any issues.
3. I learned that my body is adjusted to marathons that  my recovery is minimal.
4. I learned that until (or if) I poop my pants in a race, I am not really an ultra runner. That’s ok. I think I can be happy being a ‘fake’ ultra runner.

ET is a unique race. The steady incline of 13 miles and the overnight experience makes for a great endurance adventure. Both years I have ran it, I found that the bus drivers have not been included in the 21st century concept of a GPS or Google Maps. The logistics of getting to Vegas and the 5 hours you spend on the bus or in a stranger’s car is not something I feel I need to repeat.