Stone Mill 50 Miler

Since my 2009 JFK50 experience went so surprisingly well, I had to make sure it wasn't just a fluke and try another 50 miler. Unfortunately, injuries caused me to withdraw my 2010 Stone Mill registration and I had to wait until this year to give an ultra another go. I was actually pretty excited to run another 50 miler because unlike JFK where I didn't have a single loved one there for me as I accomplished such a huge feat, Chris not only fully supported me, he offered to drive me to/from the race and volunteer the whole entire day. Having him there at aid stations and the finish line really gave me something to look forward to as I ran for over half the day.

I was surprised that I was actually able to fall asleep at 8:30 PM and get a good night's rest before my 3:45 AM wake-up to get to the race at 5:00 AM. I felt bad that Chris had to get up just as early as me, but the thought of having to drive myself home after running 50 miles didn't appeal to me and he didn't seem to mind too much! Packet pickup and all the pre-race activities took place outside, but luckily the high school has outdoor bathroom facilities because it was cold and dark at that hour.

We took off at 6:00 AM and the race started with a half mile loop around the school. As we were making that loop, I was wondering why we were adding on extra mileage when we were already warned that the course was closer to 51.5 miles. The only justification I could come up with was to thin out the race field before we got on the single-person wide trails, but even so, the race field of 200 starters wasn't that big. I finally came to the conclusion that it was just for shits and giggles because that's just how the ultra world is.

The first 10 or so miles was fairly uneventful. It was pretty dark and chilly out for the first few miles and I was a little inpatient waiting for the sun to rise already and I couldn't help thinking to myself to enjoy the sunlight while it's bright out because this is how dark it'll be when we're finishing up the race. Hai and I started together and stuck together for the whole duration of the race. We chatted it up with a few other people and eventually caught up to and hung with Grace for a while. It was hard to keep a conversation going on the narrow trails because we could never run beside each other, but it was so pretty out there and just nice to take it the awesome fall views. We ran through the Seneca Creek State Park, where the Turkey Burnoff would be taking place the following weekend and I noticed that the holiday lights were already up.

Miles 9-10ish had us running on Darnestown Road. It was such a different feeling running on the paved roads and I found myself running at a 9:20 pace, which still felt pretty easy and comfortable. We then got back onto the trails and I felt pretty good for this portion of the race, besides having the uncomfortable feeling of having to pee. I spent the next few miles trying to scope out a woodsy enough area with brush coverage to pop a squat. I remembered reading that miles 15, 17, and 19 would have water only spots and was a bit disappointed to pass those miles and not see any water. Luckily, I don't sweat that much and was not dehydrated, but having some water just to wet my dry mouth would have been nice. We had some stream crossings along this stretch that were impossible to get through without getting our shoes/socks wet. At first, I tried to cross over them gingerly, but once my shoes/socks were soaked, I decided to just plow through the streams and almost kinda enjoyed the cold wet feeling on my tired feet.

The next full aid station at Pennyfield Lock was stocked with Krispy Kreme pumpkin donuts and I enjoyed a few pieces along with a cup of Coke before taking off onto the C&O Canal Towpath. This portion was completely flat and easy to blaze through, and I was even more motivated to run fast to get to the next aid station at mile 24ish. The HCS Hero Friends were manning the Stone Mill aid station and I looked forward to seeing Chris and having a grilled cheese sandwich there. I took a little extra time at that aid station but knew not to stick around for too long or it'd get hard to start up again. Although it was sunny and warm out, I added on an extra shirt because I didn't think I'd see Chris again til the end and knew that it was gonna be pretty chilly by the time I finished. I comtemplated changing my shoes but decided not to because there was no sense in putting on clean shoes when we'd have to go back the way we came and cross those streams again.

The HCS aid station gave me a little boost as I continued on the trail, but mile 30 was where things started to go downhill. As anyone who's ever run a 50 miler will tell you, miles 30-40 is always the toughest stretch to get through and this proved to be the case for this race. I felt like we were moving at a pretty efficient pace, only to look at my watch and see that we were only at mile 32. The terrain had become hillier in this stretch and I could really start to feel the blisters forming on the bottom of my feet/toes from wearing wet socks/shoes. It eventually got to a point where every step, whether walking or running, was so painful because I was pushing on those blisters. I tried everything to distract myself from the pain, opening and closing my fists in hopes that contracting/relaxing my arm muscles would make me think less about my legs/feet. The aid stations were a welcomed relief during these miles. Most significantly, I remember peanut butter rice krispy treats that really hit the spot (I had like 10 pieces!) and warm chicken noodle soup. I also remembering being so delusional that I mistook a branch for a snake and started freaking out for a little bit.

Like clockwork, my watch died at exactly 8 hours, which is the advertised battery life of a Garmin 405. We were at mile 38 at that point and I wasn't sure whether not having a watch to gauge distance anymore was a good or bad thing. On the one hand, I could stop watching the clock and seeing how slowly we were moving, but on the other, I kind of lost a sense of where we were in the race. I at least had a second watch to just keep track of overall time. The big thing I remember about this portion of the race was seeing signs for "managed hunting area" and hearing shots off in the distance every few minutes. I couldn't help thinking "Oh my god! I'm gonna get mistaken for deer and get shot!" And I just kept looking forward to getting to the last 10 miles, so I could start counting down the miles in single digits. Although I was struggling significantly during this portion of the race, I never onced considered dropping out. In fact, the only thing I kept thinking about was wanting to see Chris again and be warm again wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets.

And lo and behold! As I get to Watkins Mill Road, I see a crazy orange afro guy standing in the middle of the road stopping traffic to help us cross over. I was so surprised and happy to see Chris and stop at an aid station. Hai was obsessed with tebowing and we decided to get down on our knees to do a tebow pose for the camera. My legs were so stiff at that point that they didn't want to bend, so I basically had to faceplant into the ground with my arms out in front of me to be able to get to my knees. After all the silliness, I find out the news from Chris that the course is actually closer to 53-54 miles. I was crushed. Just when I thought I finally made it to the single digits countdown, now I suddenly had a half-marathon or more to go. It was starting to get dark, so I wasted no more time chatting and just chugged on.

With the pain in my feet still very apparent, the heart-crushing news of having to run 4-5 extra miles, and the sun setting, I probably struggled just as much, if not more, with this portion. Ken's aid station was only 1.5 miles from the Watkins Mill station, but it felt like I had run 3 miles before I finally got there. After we passed that station, we just kept pushing and chugging along to get to the turnaround point. It didn't help to see people coming back from this out-and-back portion and constantly have to use up energy to move over on the one-person wide trail. I actually started getting annoyed when runners were telling me how far I was from the turnaround, especially since each runner that passed told me a different number. We had one huge stream crossing that required holding onto rope to get through. The water was so ice cold that my feet felt a little numb after crossing it.

The mile "46" Watkins Rd. aid station was the turnaround point and had warm apple cider and miso soup to help us warm up. The volunteers at this aid station told us that they were hearing from runners that this was closer to mile 49 on the map and it was about 5-6 miles back to the finish from there. At this point, we were past the 12 hour cutoff time and I asked the volunteers about that and where in the pack of runners we stood. He told me only about 120 runners had passed through. I felt better about not being in the back of the pack, since that had been what it felt like with all the runners coming back the other way. It was now completely dark out and I was definitely starting to get chilly. I grabbed a pair of hand warmers to try to have a little warmth on my body for the trek back to the finish.
It might have been the fact that we were finally running towards and not away from the school that made me feel a little more motivated. Maybe the fear of the cold and dark also helped me speed up some. All I know is that my feet were finally numb enough to ignore those dang blisters and book it to the finish and call it a day. I moved through those trails relentlessly, not stopping to walk once. Chris's headlamp clip that I borrowed was bright enough to light the way, but not as bright as a traditional headlamp, so I just tried to focus on the few feet in front of me and keep moving. Hai's flashlight batteries ran out and he had no other source of light but me, so he clung to the back of me for dear life, until a guy named Mike came up from behind us. We asked him if he'd like to pass and he said, no, he was simply trying to keep pace with us. Hai told him that he was relying on me to lead the way because his flashlight died. Mike offered Hai his spare flashlight and in typical ultra fashion, we had formed a friendship/bond over this and vowed to stick together and push each other to the finish line.
Chatting with Mike helped make the last stretch of the race pass by quicker. I was completely focused on leading the way and safely getting the three of us out of there and Mike and Hai kept commending me on my good pacing. Every once in a while, we would hear the rustle of leaves under our feet get louder, pause, and realize we were off course and have to find our way back onto the quiet dirt trail. We finally made it back to the Watkins Mill Rd. aid station, where Chris told me it was barely even half a mile to the finish. Just through that trail and up the hill back to the school. A shot of adrenaline rushed through me to know that I was going to finally be done in a matter of minutes and I booked it through that last trail portion. A volunteer was at the end of the trail yelling up to the finish line "We got more runners coming in!" Another volunteer pointed to the 45 degree hill and told me "Just straight up the hill and turn right into the finish line." I looked up the hill and thought, "Seriously?" It was such a bizarre way to finish a race. Cresting a hill and turning the corner into the finish line. No flat straightaway for a sprint to the finish. I plowed up that hill and finished the 54.5 mile adventure in 13:03:23. Doug Sullivan, the race director, shook my hand after I crossed the finish line, congratulated me, and to my surprise (since Stone Mill was advertised as a cheap no frills race), handed me a finisher's medal. Hai, Mike, and I all posed at the finish line for some pics before making our way to the cafeteria for some finish line food.
I didn't expect myself to have much of an appetite after the race, but I came in just as an order was Ledo's pizza had arrived. The warm, gooey, cheesy pizza really hit the spot and I was downing the little square pieces as if there was no tomorrow. I chatted with Grace and Keith and Hai as I ate about half of a Ledo's pizza to myself, exchanging stories about the adventures we embarked on today, especially wrong-turn Keith's 71 mile adventure. As I made my way to the car, I finally decided it was time to ditch the shoes/socks and face the horror that was my blistered feet. My feet were so swollen that I looked like a giant and the blisters were so huge that I couldn't put flip flops on.
A coworker of mine asked me why I would run 50 miles, and I really had no answer for him besides "Because I can." And that really essentially sums it up. Throughout this experience, I was just grateful to have the health, endurance, and mental toughness to successfully make it through a 50 miler.

Marine Corps Marathon 2011 - Go Pink!

Marine Corps Marathon is a little too large scale of a race for my personal taste, yet there always seems to be someone every year that manages to convince me to sign up for it. I decided that if I was doing it this year, it would most definitely have to be in costume because that is the only way to draw attention to yourself in such a large crowd and I missed out on being ketchup last year when Chris ran as hotdog. However, I had no intentions of actually racing this event until a stress fracture set me back a month on training and caused me to skip out on the early October marathon than I was intending to race. With my other fall marathon not until December, I felt like I needed to put my Next Step training to good use while it was fresh and race MCM.

I woke up with a bad sore throat and stuffy nose, which is never a good way to feel before a 26.2 mile run. I carpooled down to Crystal City with Bromley and Caroline and took the shuttle buses in. This worked out way better logistically than my 2009 metro experience and I even took advantage of the bathroom in the back of the bus. No lines (although the starting area was filled with so many porta-pots that lines weren't an issue at all)! With snow the day before, this was probably the coldest marathon race start I ever experienced and was thankful for the foil blanket I saved from Baltimore and brought with me because it blocked out the wind so well (thanks Chris Farmer for the tip of saving the foil blankets to use at the next race). While waiting for the race to start, so many photographers approached me to take my pre-race photo because of my crazy pink outfit and wig that I ended up turning a few down after 5 photos were taken already.

At 7:45 AM when they started the wheelchairs, I turned to my Garmin watch to lock it onto satellite, only to find that the screen was completely dead! After a few failed attempts to reset it, I began to panic. I have never run a marathon without a watch before. Even before my Garmin days, I at least had a stop watch to keep track of overall time. I considered the idea of running with the official pace group before deciding they were going to be too chatty for my personal quiet running nature. I decided I would just have to run the entire race on feel, relying on my internal pacing and whatever race clock splits were available.

I lined up in the 3:20-3:39 corral and was surprised to cross the start line only 36 seconds back from the clock. Unlike when I liked up in the 4:00 corral in 2009, there was no wall of people disrupting my pace. I ditched the foil blanket and hand warmers about 0.5 miles into the race but my hands did not stop feeling numb until mile 3. The whole first half of the race went off without a hitch. I was dead on 8:00 min pace at every mile marker where there was a marine shouting out the clock time and feeling good. I was able to jog through all the aid stations, practicing the water drinking technique Next Step taught me (who knew there was actually a skill to this?!). The crowd support was amazing and I heard some variation of "Go Pink/Pinky!," "Nice wig/outfit!," and just straight up chuckles every few feet (I only heard "Go Amanda!" once at mile 9 and knew that had to be my coworker because I told her to look out for a pink fro). I almost started feeling bad for the runners around me for having to be subjected to that, but it definitely brought a smile to my face because I didn't feel as ridiculous as I probably looked.

I passed the halfway point in a time of 1:44:46 feeling good, but then things started to go downhill from there. At mile 14, I started feeling nauseous and my mouth was dry. We were around Hains Point at this point in the race and the sun was beating down. I could feel the sweat dripping down my face and my hair was completely drenched under the pink fro. Although comfortable to run in, I didn't account for the fact that I would be sweating more and hadn't been hydrating enough. To make matters worse, there was a 3 mile stretch between miles 13 to 16 without a water stop, so I had to suffer through 2 more miles before getting any more water into my system.

When I got to mile 16, I slowed to a walk and made sure I got two full cups of water down. I continued running but didn't really start to feel better until around mile 19. By that point, my body was ready to push again but my legs were starting to feel dead. The marines at the beginning mile markers were really good about shouting out the times, but in the second half, I didn't see as many of them at the mile markers and some of them were slacking on calling out times when I passed, so I really had no idea what kind of pace I was running. Nor did I really care, I just wanted to get to the finish line safely and not be that girl in a pink fro passed out on the sideline. Since I was running in costume, I didn't have any serious time goals/expectations for this race and just wanted to have fun. I had planned to pace around a 3:35 time with my watch, but since that died on me minutes before the race, my plan B was just to run as fast as I could comfortably and see what would happen.

The 3:35 pace group passed me as we were crossing the bridge, but I honestly didn't really care cus I had already tossed all goals but to finish out the window. I was running the little out-and-back stretch in Crystal City lost in my own little world when my cousin yelled my name out from the other side of the street. I did not expect to see him at all during the race, especially only a mile behind me, but I was so proud of how strong he was looking in his first marathon. His longest run in preparation for the race had only been 12 miles but I guess he could get away with that and still kick ass being in the Naval Academy and only 21 years old.

As I was making my way through the final stretch to the finish line, the announcer called out my bib# and was asking to get a name. He then announced to the crowd "Here comes Amanda An from Ellicott City wearing all pink!" I was pumped and put my arms up in the air as the crowd cheered. I waited in line to have a marine put a medal around my neck and he joked that he wasn't sure he could get it around my big hair. The medal was the coolest one I've received from a race thus far. It was the Marine Corps logo (the eagle, anchor, and globe) with the globe part spinning and having the Iwo Jima Memorial in the back.

The post-race amenities were an improvement from 2009. They had the standard bagels and bananas but also gave out these snack kits with hummus, pretzels, trail mix, edamame, and chocolate. I didn't see too many Hoco Striders after the race, but was able to find Hai pretty easily, who unfortunately had to miss out on the race but still came out to cheer.

I finished the race in a time of 3:37:17, which was a 1 min and 31 second PR, but I felt like crap the whole second half of the race. There are certainly a lot of things that I could/would have done better, like hydrate more and pace better with a watch, but I am happy with the way I handled the circumstances. It was definitely a great experience to run such a large-scale race in costume. If I ever do it again, I definitely don't think I'd wear a costume AND race it.

I definitely look forward to the Rehoboth Marathon in December, which I will be racing more seriously (the watch better not fail me then!). It's a much smaller race field with more personal attention, amazing post-race buffet food, and hotels within walking distance of the start/finish.