Hinson Lake 24 Hour 2016 Race Report: Listen to Your Body

Hinson Lake 24 Hour is a race I kind of always have to do. My first time there was a blast - not only did I win it, but I made a ton of new friends. Everyone cheers each other on; there are silly signs around the 1.56 mile loop ("Mount Hinson" at the small hill; "200 miles to South of the Border;" "Woohoa, we're halfway there" amongst others); the aid station food is pretty fantastic; the volunteers are friendly; and the race is super cheap. Plus, it's 2 hours from my sister's place, and I always like to have another reason to visit her and my adorable niece and nephew. Oh, and her husband too. Hi Brian. 

A few days before my race, my old tendon injury flared up a bit. I took off a day, and was glad the race was on softer trails.

My nutrition was good, my sleep was okay, and I was feel pretty excited to run for 24 hours.

Before the race start, several different people, including the RD, came up to tell me I had a win in the bag. I felt all the pressure on me suddenly, and it overwhelmed me. "I'm just going to have fun."

A lot of people out there, kept asking, "What's your goal?" I have various goals, but would rather not share them with people. I had a few people who kept saying, "Well, yeah, what's your mileage?" I'd respond, "All fun miles," and finally one guy I had to say, "LOOK, I don't want to talk about it - why don't you tell me your goals." He was happy to do that, and we had a nice conversation.

In the beginning, I was not topping the leaderboard at all, but I know Hinson. You get lots of people who just come out to run a fast 50k, fast marathon, whatever. People who think they're going to run all night, but don't. I had my pace, which was pretty chill, and I felt good. 

My pace was slower than I would have liked, but I stayed there, deciding to take it a bit easier and see what would happen. Every so often, I felt a twinge in my ankle, but it was definitely better.

Well, better until the 40s. I saw Ray, my coach, and we had a chat lap. He of course is always favor of pushing it, and doesn't really understand the concept of injury. I told him I was going to go to 100k, and then make a decision. I got into the 50s and still wasn't sure. Darkness began falling, and what was I doing out here.

My name was on the leaderboard. I watched myself climb places as people dropped from the race. 

The pain grew. It wasn't a twinge; it was full out pain. I was at mile 59 and starting to hurt.

Two more. I can do this.

I finished those two more - at what cost? I was nearly limping at the end. I didn't take my own advice.

I was in second place.

I walked away.

My tendon was hurting a lot. Did I ruin myself?

I saw Ray, "Maybe you want to just rest and then --"

No, this isn't something an hour or two can cure.

I drove back to my sister's and was there in the morning to wake up with her kids. I took a week off of running fully - and was able to come back to running. Listen first, run later.

Hinson Lake 24 Hour Race Report (2015)

I wasn't sure how I was feeling about Hinson Lake 24 Hour, but I decided to go with how I was feeling.

Lately, I've been struggling with some issues unrelated to running, and it's impacting most things, including running. The summer was a blur of busy-ness for Burning Man, including tons and tons of planning for the Burning Man Ultramarathon. In the end, I'm glad of the time I invested, but at the same time, it's a lot of time where my mind can't focus on other things. Like my own personal racing. When life is a constant busy blur, often dominated by unhappiness, it can be very difficult to focus on athletic pursuits...or creative dreams.

I made the decision to do what I could. 50 miles was what I thought I'd do, though maybe just 50k. And if I was killing it, running really well, why, I'd finish the whole damn thing.

And I really lived by that, and didn't feel bad one bit for my decision.

My visits to NC have always been surrounded by my sister, but with her two kids that I'm becoming increasing attached to, it was difficult to leave them and run a race. But I did it, as I'm an ultrarunner.

As I drove to the race, it was pitch black and pouring. Not the best way to approach a race. I had grabbed a random handful of CDs leaving NYC, not even looking at them, and one of them was the Beatles Anthology. "Let It Be" came on and I burst into tears, thinking of how horrible it was that John Lennon was shot and what kind of world we livee in. Um, not the best mood to approach a 24 hour race with.

When I got to the start, it wasn't pouring, but definitely raining. I caught up with old friends, chatted. I told a few people of my intention to "only" run 50k or 50 miles, and many echoed my sentiments. Others applauded me for being in the moment I needed to be in. The kindness of others, like Dan, kept my personal items sheltered from the , and good friends cheered me on the entire time.

And OFF. I felt good, and took off at a decent pace. Not as fast as usual, but GO. I enjoyed the good old Hinson Lake course, and chatted with friends. I thought about how much I loved the ultrarunning community. It was fun.

After about ten miles though, the race felt harder than it should. I knew I wouldn't go 24 hours. 50 miles was all. Maybe even 50k? But not 24 hours.

The course is a loop of abt 1.55 miles, with a few small hills (that feel like mountains after a while). Local running store/club Vac and Dash decorate the course with hilarious signs ("Mt Hinson," "Ooooh we're halfway there ooooh living on a prayer," "98 Miles to South of the Border," "Jerry's Food Castle"), and the vibe is FUN AWESOME PARTY. People may have even been taking shots or drinking beers. It's one of my top three fave races (with obviously the Burning Man Ultramarathon being one, and Vermont 100 being number two).

I decided to have a fun day. I'd catch up to a friend who was walking, or someone who was walking and wanted to chat, and I'd take a break to chat and catch up. I stopped to pee when I needed to. I ate frosted pumpkin cookies and cupcakes and pumpkin chocolate chip bread and potatoes. I laughed. I did the Ray K shuffle with the legend himself. (He'd kill me if he knew I said that.) I had fun.

me and shannon at the start of the race. i'm representing the black rock city 50k!!!

Around mile 25 or so, I ran into my friend Shannon. She was only going to do 50k, so I finished 50k with her. I decided I felt like I could go longer, but I didn't feel like doing 50 miles. So I chose 40 to be my ultimate mileage.

It was great to chat and catch up with Shannon, and she really pushed me. She's an amazing runner (123 miles in 24 hours) and an animal activist (the woman loves and rescues dogs). We caught up on love and life and career and running and community. It was grea.t

Post-Shannon, I ran, I chatted, I walked occasionally, I ate good foods.

And then I finished. 40 miles. I don't remember the time, but really, I don't care. And honestly, I ran more than 40 miles, though I couldn't tell you the exact amount. Who cares? I was there. I ran. I had fun with friends. 

It wasn't my fave Hinson Lake, but it was the one I needed to have.

Hey, this is who I am, Runners' World!

After I finished the NYC Marathon in 2013, this photo was snapped. This is my story.

The week prior, I ran 24 Hours the Hard Way, which was the 24 Hours National Championships USATF. I was desperately trying to break 120 miles so I could get a shot at qualifying for the National Team that would go to World Championships. My coach gave me advice, but severe blisters ended up costing me about 45-60 minutes. Medical helped out, but I needed treatment a few times. The blisters were pretty brutal.

I needed 120 to qualify. i ran 115.6 miles. 

I was pretty devastated, but I ended up taking 2nd place for USATF women. I won a check for $750, a neat medal. I stumbled onto the plane after a shower and flew home to New York, feeling pretty destroyed.

Less than a week later, I ran the New York City Marathon.

I tried to run hard, but my legs reminded me, HELLO, you just ran 115.6 miles last week. I stopped to hug friends. I smiled. I absorbed the energy from the streets.

Coming into the finish, something hit me. Cherie, you ran 115.6 miles last week. You were second USATF woman, and who else here can do that, and do what you're doing now? 3:45 - not bad, especially after that effort. You ran your heart off last week, and again this week. 

And I burst into tears that last half mile...that is my story.

RW has my image on an inspirational quote (see above). I am more than just a quote. I am a running body of energy, tears, sweat, passion, and love.

DNS: A Very Sad Race Report for 2014 Croatan 24 Hour

Note: crucial to understanding this piece is that I have cough-variant asthma.

Friday, eight days prior to the race, I woke up with a cold. Miserable. Tea and lots of fluids, and I ended up feeling better. Still felt a little slow on Saturday and Sunday, and then BAM woke up on Monday feeling wretched. I got dressed in running clothes, and as I approached the door, realized I couldn't run. There was no way. I went back to bed in my running clothes, napping and reading until time to work. Then I worked for a few hours, and said I was going to take a half a sick day. I ended up napping, which is something I almost never do. I woke up and read some more, and then we ordered delivery because cooking was not happening. The rest of the night I read and took a bath while Wayne sawed and worked on electricity stuff.

The next day I decided to run to the polls to vote. Ha. 2 minutes later, I felt like utter crap and voted. I slogged it home, and showered and worked for two hours, then I had to stop to rest. I got up, worked and finished a request due that day, and then when I was done, I had nothing left. I sent my coworkers a brief message like, "Need to sleep now, so sick," and passed out for three hours. I woke up and it was dark and Wayne was coming in. Ooops.

Wednesday I made it through the workday by working at home, with some breaks. Wednesday night found me in a horrible asthma attack, and I passed out, scared after coughing like crazy. Thursday I felt less flu-like but not 100%, but I couldn't stop coughing. How on earth would I run a 24 hour this weekend? I kept coughing and as I headed to my early flight on Friday, Wayne said, "I don't think you should fly like that."

I coughed on the plane. I coughed in the rental car shuttle. I coughed in the drive to my sister's, and I coughed while I played with her kids. I warned her I might not finish  my race, but my plan was to do at least 50k, if not 50 miles, if I couldn't run through the night. As I drove to the hotel by the race start, I was coughing a ton. I could not get through a phone call - hell, I couldn't get through a sentence, without coughing. I had tears streaming down my face. I was scared.

I checked into the hotel, and it was more dismal than I remembered. (Mental note: next time I do Croatan 24, do NOT stay in the Best Western.) There was a beetle on my ceiling. I felt awful, but I quickly sorted my clothes and then showered. I couldn't stop coughing.

I went to bed. I woke up shortly after - maybe 10-20 minutes later, coughing. Coughing nonstop. Tears streamed down my face. I sat up, which sometimes help, but the coughing wouldn't stop. For hours, I couldn't stop coughing. I'd pass out, and wake up, coughing. It was hell. It was scary: I was in a dumpy hotel room with stains on the carpet and beetles on the ceiling, and I was coughing and couldn't catch my breath, and my inhaler wasn't working, and I was alone. When you have asthma, you often think about death when breathing seems impossible, and it's so scary.

I finally fell asleep after 3 a.m., and woke up at 5 a.m. There was no way I was doing the race. I had no appetite to eat, and my throat was too sore anyway from coughing all night. I packed up my car and headed to the race start. I greeted the RD, Brandon, who is one of the nicest people in the ultrarunning world. I immediately gave him the sad news, and he felt bad for me. By not doing Croatan, I wasn't just skipping a race I had prioritized over other races (not doing NYC Marathon, not doing Icarus 24 hour, not doing other races), I was missing out an awesome race. Brandon always has tons of amazing food (cake! lots of vegetarian options! veggie broth! grits! fruit punch! so many other things) and him and his awesome friend wife, Heather, do such a great job. I was sad I couldn't hang out with him.

He said if I felt better to come hang out with him, but that didn't end up happening. I got in the rental car, and sadly drove away. I imagined everyone else throughout the day the next 24 + hours, thinking how they were having fun, struggling in the night, greeting the morning...and wishing I was there.

Me? I headed to Urgent Care, where the doctor didn't fully seem to grasp the concept of cough variant asthma (I usually cough painfully instead of wheeze.), but she ended up at least giving me prednisone, which take at least 2 days for me to fully feel the impact. The next day, my cough is still persisting, but I slept much better through the night, only awakening a half dozen or so times to cough.

Instead of running, I spent my time resting at my awesome sister's, baking and eating with her, and playing with my super sweet niece and nephew. And coughing. I'm still good at that.

Let's hope I'm ready for Brooklyn Marathon next weekend...

Hinson Lake 24 Hour Race Report (2014): It Was Awful, But an Awful Lot of Fun

                Hinson Lake 24 Hour Race has a special spot in my heart: it was my first 24 hour race (which I won the first time) and really turned me on to 24 hour races. No matter your finishing results, you get to run with and meet and chat with a ton of different awesome people at all sorts of paces. SO MUCH FUN!

                I knew going into this race that I wouldn’t run my best, as I had run 105 miles the week before at The North Coast 24 Hour National Championships, but hoped since I hadn’t PR’d, maybe my legs would be decent, good enough for 100+ miles? Not exactly. My legs were tired, and a stressful week of work, plus not enough sleep, plus lots of other things going on in my head did not leave me well-rested. I took a nap the day before and literally had to pull over 20 minutes from the start of Hinson to stretch because I was too exhausted to keep driving. Not a good sign, but remember, I don’t often pay attention to bad signs. Sigh.       

                Hinson Lake is an awesome 24 hour race – the fee is $24 and you get a tshirt, bumper sticker, pint glass (Good because Wayne and I are always breaking the ones we have!), and food, and 24 hours of running fun! The company is great – I love all of the runners and end up chatting with tons of great people. The course is a 1.56 mile loop around the lake – it’s pretty, there are some small rolling hills, but it’s mainly flat on dirt, sand, and boardwalk. There are tons of tents along the course and fun signs.

                At the start, I took off, chattering and laughing, enjoying and remembering the course. What a beautiful day. Soon enough, my pace slowed to 9:20s, which is definitely not terrible, but I usually go out a bit faster, with less effort. These 9:20s felt tough. Oh no.

                “My legs feel so tired,” I told Shannon. We ran together for a while, and she seemed strong at times, but she ended up not having a good day either and dropped. I was very sad to see her go. My legs were feeling tired before 2 hours.

                I ran with Jonathan Savage, who told me about his brown recluse spider bite and his recovery. He promised his wife to only run 50 miles, and only that much if he felt okay. He ended up quitting at 50 miles, feeling good. We talked about stress and how it impacts running. Talking always helps, and talking while running is the best. If only I could find a therapist who wanted to go on long runs with me…I would have no problems, I’m convinced.

                I reached the marathon in under 5 hours and the 50k in under 6 hours. Compare this to last weekend’s 24 hour (with the marathon in 4:10, 50k in 5:05). I knew it would be a bad day.

                I talked to Ray. He was weary, still. Running for 52 days straight from 6a.m. to midnight on concrete will do that to you.

                I hung out with Kelley, I hung out with Joe, I chilled with lots of amazing people. It was fun.

                I had my set up of various bags next to Brett. Brett’s dad was 100% awesome and his name was Wayne. He called me “babe” and was sweet, hilarious, helpful, and nice. Brett ended up taking a 3 hour nap.

                After it got dark, I just crashed. I curled up on the air mattress Wayne had set up with Wayne’s sleeping bag and passed out. I got up, and slowly began running. My blistered feet felt better, and my legs were still tired, but I could do this. I knew 100 miles would be almost impossible.

                I took a 5 hour energy shot. I ran with music. I danced while I ran. I chatted. I walked Mount Hinson, that giant mountain they put on the course. I napped in a chair. I got up and ran more.

                About two and a half hours from the finish, Rich and I began running together.

                He gave me a red bull and we talked each other’s ears off. We mostly ran, but we’d walk Mount Hinson.  I don’t remember what we talked about – dissolving marriages and cupcakes and blisters and this race and that race and oh this race and yeah that race. I ate a lot of pink cupcakes.

                Oh, the food. This year I ate homemade cookies and pizza that I took the cheese off of and animal crackers and cheese its and lots and lots of pink frosted cupcakes. Oh, how delicious it all tasted. At least my stomach was awesome! Yay!

                I ended up with 94.6 miles, or 93.6, something like that. Ugh. Depressing. So close, yet so far. And I still know that’s a pretty awesome effort – esp since I ran a 24 hour last weekend.

                My legs felt tired and my body was exhausted. Stress has been seeping in everywhere lately – it sucks. My blisters were out of control – I stopped to cut moleskin and cover them, but they were a horrendous mess and I think I scared my little sister when she saw me popping them afterwards. Yum.

                So Hinson? Not my best race. Nope. Not this year. But fun –yes. Lots and lots and lots of fun.

                I WILL BE BACK FOR SURE NEXT YEAR. I hope there will be pink frosted cupcakes!

24 Hours North Coast: “This is BS,” “Cleveland Isn’t Detroit,” “We had some ‘weather,’” “Today’s just not my day”

Going into the North Coast 24 Hour National Championships, I was not feeling 100%, but feeling very hopefully – because confidence is much more fun and positive than self-doubt. I didn’t have my best race, or my worst race, but I did have a whole lot of fun. How is it possible that so many things could happen in just 24 hours?

We went to the pre-race where, where the amazing Dr. Andy Lovett gave me some ointment cream that he swore would protect me from blisters. (It didn’t. My feet suffered. Sigh.) Then Jackie and I headed to the hotel, where we fell asleep at 9pm. Success. Turns out, Cleveland is kind of like those YouTube videos you know you’ve seen and loved online. Ha!

me and andy!!!!

Chris and Dave arrived at 2am but I barely woke up. I slept pretty good, had pre-race bowel success, and ate, feeling okay. The day before I flew, I was so nervous I could barely eat lunch before my flight. We checked in at the start, set up our stuff inside the pavilion in case we had the rain they predicted (No matter; the entire where we placed our stuff flooded, but luckily, most of our stuff were in plastic bags.), and said hello to friends. Let’s get ready! Wheeeeee!

HUGE ultrarunning hero - John Geesler. Swoon!

The course is a .9 mile loop through this park (essentially around a parking lot, but it’s actually nicer than that sounds) with the Lake on one side. There were tons of people in the park, so that added an interesting people-watching element; one vegan weightlifter was working out at 10 a.m. until the first rain came well after dark. There were kites, multiple wedding photo shoots, families picnicking, seagulls, that sort of thing. The course is a paved loop, with some slight ups and downs, but nothing too bad. (In the middle of the night, you will find yourself walking “the big hill.”)

ready to run at lakeside

Because the lake is alongside the course, you get wind. Lots of it. This course is known for being windy. At times, the wind was so tough you found yourself using tons of energy just to propel yourself ahead. Some people confessed to me that they gave up running and just walked.

   

The race started a few minutes early, and we were off. I took off too fast, as usual, yelling at myself for running sub-9 minute pace. I got a cramp early in and was forced to slow down, which was a good thing. I chatted with everyone, ate gels, laughed.

The day was hot. It was supposed to be a high of 80, but it was much hotter than that – mid to upper 80s. I felt parched, and needed to make sure I was quite hydrated, but not drinking too much to cause the dreaded sloshing stomach.

Marathon in 4:10. Okay, a little faster than my best 24s, but not too terrible. 50k in 5:05. Okay. Okay.

Then in the mid 30s, my hamstring tightness grew worse. I went to the medical tent  to have my hamstrings stretched. And again a little while later. And again.

And then my period showed up two days early. I spent much of the race begging for tampons. Thank you, ladies of North Coast 24!

It took forever to get to mile 50, or so it felt. 9:40. Ugh. 50 to 60 felt really awful. It took forever.

In the 70s, Chris warned me, "Cherie, it's going to rain." I had read an article about thunderstorms in Outside Magazine the day before. "I am going to stop if it's thunderstorming." I really wanted to go to medical and get them to stretch out my super tight hamstrings, but I figured I'd wait until the thunder and rain arrived.

I kept running, feeling kinda crappy. The miles dragged on. Where was this rain? I wasn't eating a ton - nothing looked appetizing (Well, mac and cheese did but I knew where that would land me!) and I ended up eating some vegan pizza. I do love cheese, but not when running.

I dragged on. I ran. I took a 5 hour energy shot. I changed my shoes. I ran some more. I ran some more. I put music on - it pushed me ahead. I flew. It felt great for a few laps. Then, I slowed down. Ran. Ran.

I came in. "You should stop now. The rain is going to come," Chris told me.

"Well, can't I just do one more?" I asked. It was only drizzling.

"No. Stop now."

"Really? I can't just do one loop - only .9 miles?"

"No. You can't."

So I went to medical and as they began working on my legs, the skies opened. Good timing. I thanked Chris profusely. I had medical pop some blisters and then I relaxed for a while.

Then, as I was pulling on my shoes, it let up. I head out and put in some more miles.

I ran on. Sunlight was coming, I knew it. I said hi to everyone I passed, and smiled. Only a few more hours of this hell/love.

Around mile 92, I connected with Isiah, who later won the men's race with 154 miles - in his first ultra! We ended up running together until I hit 100, at which point I drank water and ate a little extra food, and then spent the last hour running, walking a bit, laughing, smiling, so glad it was almost over.

Hitting 100 miles

I hit 104 miles. And then nearly 105. But it was over.

Far from what I wanted, but still, a pretty decent race. 5th USATF woman, lots of blisters, lots of soreness, lots of fun with friends, lots of hallucinations (Why do people do drugs when they can just run 24 hour races????), and some fantastic tater tots after. Yep, that's a good race!

NY/NJ crew post race (Where's Zandy?)

Tired runners, yay

SC 24 Hour: Not a Way You Want to Run 24 Hours

In a recent Ultrarunning Magazine, Ann Trason talked about running a 24 hour on the track. She said, "It's kind of zen."

Well, yes. In a way, that really oversimplifies things. It is that, but so much more.

I thought I would hate running a 24 hour on the track. When Ray K. told me he wanted to put on the South Carolina 24 Hour, I thought, "Well of course I have to do that. But it will suck." It didn't. The constant support, everyone cheering each other on, the energy...it was wonderful. It was a party.

The fearless 24 hour runners!

Ray had his high school runners as timers. My timer was the super friendly Harriet who was out on the track for most of the race (though she went home to sleep, smart girl!). We made eye contact every time, and she'd say things like, "40k" or "68 laps" or whatever. Plus everyone else cheered me on. The kids LOVED the race, and we loved them.

Logistically, the track was easy to set things up. The high school runners brought out SCHOOL DESKS and we set up our little personal aid stations on the school desks. It was great for us out-of-towners who flew in and didn't have chairs and much of anything. Fantastic.

Most everyone was friendly. Zach Bitter (who ended up breaking the 200k AR during the race, and currently owns the AR for 100 miles and World Record for 12 hours) said encouraging things nearly every time he passed. Harvey ended up qualifying for the World Team, but started the race chatting and laughing with me. I made new friends - the runners, their crews, and the timers - and it was really a lot of fun.

"I want to puke!"

I started out feeling okay. Some of the women were hammering (Go Katy - she got the 200k AR and ran one of the fastest 100 mile times ever - but she always had a kind word and compassion, especially as she could see I was suffering.) and I probably went out a wee bit fast, in the 8:00-9:00 range, occasionally faster. I felt good, drank water, laughed, chatted, enjoyed the run.

That lasted for about an hour.

My stomach turned into a nightmare. I began feeling queasy. I kept up my pace the best I could, and began begging Wayne (who was timing) for cups of iced ginger ale when I came through.

My stomach grew worse. I ran through the aid station at one point and cried, "Wayne!" He ran over as I cried while dry heaving. Miserable.

I slowed down. Walk. Run. Cry. Dry heave. Cry. Walk. Run. Run. Run. Dry heave. I was not eating and I knew this was dangerous. I didn't know what to do. I asked Coach K for advice; he tried to get me to drink watered down Coke and I threw a fit and it made me more nauseas.

My tummy felt  little better, and my hamstrings - yep, both - seized up. I ran, walked. I wished I could eat. I found myself getting lapped and lapped and lapped - "Hi Zach, Hi Katalin, Hi Harvey, Hi Everyone..." and the sufferfest went on.

Should I quit? Was I pushing myself unnecessarily?

Ray suggested I take a nap. I did and it was good but I was still sick. I ran some more. I walked some more. I drank some ginger ale and cried. I went to lie down again. I got up. I ran. I walked. I dry heaved. I cried. I wished I could eat. Everyone said such encouraging things, even the kids as I told them, "Don't tell me I'm doing a good job! I'm not! I'm sucking." Oh, but you are, they told me, repeatedly. "I am feeling miserable and running horribly for me. Maybe you could say other things?" So they began talking about how nice I looked and how they liked my outfit and rainbows and unicorns and I loved the kids at Wilson High. I thanked them profusely at the end, and really I cannot thank them enough.

I ran with lots of different people. I walked with different people. I was in my head. I listened to music. I didn't listen to music. I felt the heat of the day (probably why I was sick) and the cold of the night. I pushed beyond what I could and it still wasn't enough.

My friend Iliana arrived to crew me approximately 6 hours late. I was freaking out, with stories in my head that she got in a car accident and was dead and now everyone would blame me because she was driving to see me. She arrived around 5 am and took charge, organized all of my stuff, and was an amazing crew. She said encouraging things.

In the end, Shannon and Harvey qualified for the National Team for World Championships. I envied them and admired their amazing performances. It was not my day at all. 

It was a day to have Alec, Lara's husband take a knife and attempt to pop my blister mid-race. It was a race where I ran the last 50 miles in shoes with the toes cut out. It was a race where the volunteers (including my boyfriend) ate more than I did during the race, much more. It was a race with blazing sun that burnt me, and rain that led us to our finish. It was race with so much fun (Colorful characters like Andy, who suffered immensely but pushed through with his pink power to complete 100 miles.). A lot of the other runners has issues with nausea, but apparently I had the worst problems, with nausea dominating 23 hours of my race.

I ran with Chris at the end, and then took a walk break. The last hour I found myself running pretty strong, knowing the end was near. I finished with nearly 90 miles, and was so grateful to finish.

Thank you to Ray, all of the runners, their crews, the volunteers (yes, I love you all), Iliana, Wayne. I had a blast, even if my stomach hated me. And I ran while carrying a slurpee. That was awesome.

Total food consumed:

• one vanilla gu (33 minutes into the race)
• Some cliff shot blocs (not too many)
• 2 pop-tarts (Thank you, Max, for letting me raid Meghan's food supply)
• a handful of cheese nips
• some broth
• a couple of crackers
• two pretzels
• a popsicle (Thanks Kelley!)
• a slushee mmmmmmmmmmmmmm

24 Hours the Hard Way: Race Report for 2013 Super Fun Race!

Initially, when planning my race schedule, this race, 24 Hours the Hard Way, was not part of my plans. It was the week before NYC Marathon, where I wanted to race strong, and it was pavement, and it was in Oklahoma.

Ray K. convinced me to do it, and I'm so glad I did. But really, I'm not sure what pushed me into going, now that you ask me. I think it's just Ray's persuasive and charming personality.

Going out to Oklahoma was a little insane. My life has been insane - Hinson 24 Hour in NC, followed by Ted Corbitt 24 Hour the weekend following, then visiting my bestie in Buffalo (wine! tea! fun!), then Toronto for work and the Toronto Waterfront Half. I came home on Wednesday from my work trip, unpacked and immediately repacked my suitcase. Then I took a nap, worked a day, then flew to Oklahoma. Ray K. and his son Jon picked me up from the airport, where I had shared a flight with the legendary John Geesler (who frightened one of my pacers at the VT100 two years ago when he was literally sleepwalking on the course...of course I was uber impressed).

The race was full of impressive runners - American 24 Hour Women's Record Holder Sabrina Little (who dropped out due to having a wretched cold/bronchitis/asthma), Connie Gardener, John Cash, plus a lot of of the older-but-super-fast-in-their-time runners. I met "Doc" aka Andrew who gave me advice on the damage that my frostbitten feet are STILL experiencing. 

Race morning, Ray impressed many by arriving more than 4 minutes before race start. We put our chips on; they used the ankle strap but I have never loved those. I imitated Ray and strung it through my shoelace (which just meant I had to move it when I changed shoes, which I did three times).

The course is a loop just under a mile - something like .96 mile. It's pavement. The course winds a bit, so you have to take the tangents so you don't run way over, but it's not horrible. It's pretty. Since Oklahoma is warmer than NYC, there were more plants alive, and it was pretty. The sun set later, which was nice, though it also rose later, which wasn't as fun. There were some slight hills, which we all regarded as mountains later in the race. "Cherie, toss me your crampons," Ray would yell if we'd pass each other on a "hill." Really, they'd classify more as "rolling hills."

The organization was pretty good. Chisholm is super-duper friendly, and his wife was amazing too. There was a big problem with timing (The display wasn't working, some laps got missed, and everyone was confused about their mileage, which was irritating.), but hopefully things get solved soon. I still am unsure of my exact mileage - I believe around 115.4 miles, which is a PR. Sweet.I missed my goal of 120 miles but I also had some issues, and it was not the perfect day for me - so to get a PR on a less-than-perfect-day is great.

The aid stations were great. There's one water and Gatorade stop in the middle of the woods, which I only stopped at a few times, but was nice to know that it was there. (So if I wanted a gel mid-loop, I could get some hydration with it. Yay.) The main station included a separate section for beverages, which was great if you were blasting through and just wanted to grab some liquid - water, Gatorade  sodas, red bulls of various kinds. They were lacking ginger ale early on, but after maybe 8 hours, they had some, which was nice that they listened to requests (I requested it; not sure if others did too?). The food - broth (chicken & vegetarian, yay, vegetarian!), standard ultra snacks of chips (but different kinds, how neat!), lots of hammergels, skittles, starburst, muffins (mmmm), frosted cake, grilled cheese, burgers, pulled pork, peanut butter, graham crackers, cookies, pretzels, and so many things. Basically, even a picky-in-ultras-eater like me was quite happy. I LOVED THIS AID STATION! I supplemented this with Delta cookies I hoarded from recent flights. 

Also, people moved a Halloween costume hammer around the course, and several balls. It's just a thing you did; pick it up and hang it from a tree branch or put it on a bench...They hung white Christmas lights in two different dark spots on the course which were pretty and fun...and combined with that and the brightly-lit sky, you did NOT need a headlamp.

I started out feeling good. As I blazed through the start/finish/main aid station, I thought, "Oops, a little too fast." I was running with a super nice woman Carol, also wearing pink (whose two sons were also running, how neat!), and said, "Ray is going to kill me." I was running sub-9s for a while.

After two hours, my tummy told me it was in charge. Good thing there were plenty of port-a-potties (always with toilet paper, yay) along the course. I stopped eating gels, visited the potties, and took an Immodium. Sad face. I hate my tummy sometime.

I slowed down, and skipped on gels for four or six hours. I switched to pretzels, veggie broth, and blueberry muffins. I was sad when they ran out of blueberry muffins (possibly because I ate them all) and I was forced to eat the lovely-but-just-not-as-delicious banana nut muffins.

And then, somewhere around 40 miles, I ran into Jameelah, and she told me her insane journey of getting to the race (which involved sleeping in a Walgreens!), of recovering from a recent injury, and then she mentioned the medics had done some work on a blister of hers. I had already changed shoes back and forth to accommodate my blister pain that day, so figured, why not stop by?

As I watched John Cash and Sabrina Little and Connie Gardener blow by me, the medical staff were super awesome and attended to my needs. First they taped up my toes together, and then did some massage to help my stomach, and gave me Rolaids and a ginger root pill. I ran a lap and felt like I was going to fall over - my balance was totally off with my toes taped together. They tried to cushion it. I ran another lap. "This is still not helping," I told Jared and the medical director. "Run another lap - we'll get the scalpel and then try to scrape it off."

I ran another lap and saw Jon mid-way and told him what they'd be doing. "Scalpel? Can I take photos?" Sure, why not. So of course he ran over to the medical tent. He wasn't running, but was taking photos.

I spent a little too much time getting my toe scraped at. Basically, there is a callous that has grown, and the blister was underneath. Or something. I'm headed to George Morgano tomorrow, my awesome podiatrist, who will hopefully help. So they had to scrape it down, then put these cushion things on my toe, then tape it up. Then I put on my cut-apart sneakers, because every ultrarunner has shoes with the toes cut out, right?

And I felt better. 

I ran on. I chatted with people, smiled, got lost in my head. I counted the laps, pushed up the hills, sipped broth. And I was feeling mostly good. It was an ultra. It was a 24 hour race, which is where you get to make friends with the fastest and the slowest of runners. I loved the people who set up some carports and hung their TV in the middle of the course, watching "the game" and updating everyone with the score. I laughed. I had fun. Even when it hurt, even when it sucked, I still had a lot of fun.

It rained. Silly Oklahoma. I wore a rain jacket, which normally would dissuade the rain, but the rain didn't listen. It wasn't heavy, but I wanted it to stop. It got a little muddy by one of the port-a-janes. It stopped before nightfall.

Night fell. I changed into a completely dry outfit in my new BFF Sherry's tent. (I was squatting with my plastic bags of supplies outside her tent and we became friends.) I felt amazing in dry clothes. I ran a lap and then ran into Chris Roman, a good friend of Tony's. We began running together....

...and we didn't stop until the end.

It was pretty awesome. I was pushing him, and he was pushing me. When I felt like crap, I thought, "I can't lose Chris now. He's pushed me so much already." And we were doing that thing, where I thought I had to run faster to keep up with him, and he thought he had to run faster to keep up with me. Basically, we spent over 12 hours running together, talking, laughing. I got a lot less sleepy and hallucinated a lot less than normal, mainly because Chris was keeping me focused and awake the whole time.

Don't worry, I did hallucinate though; I kept seeing headless runners (I'd see someone but see no head) or it would look like runners were running with their heads on backwards. Ummmmm....I have strange hallucinations.

Chris told me stories of running the Eerie Canal, the Brazil 135, races he had done, stories of mutual friends. He cursed when I convinced him to run up a hill. Sorry about that, Chris, but I figured that uphill was good for us. You know, good for you like cabbage.

I hit the 100 mile in 20:28! A PR by 30 minutes. I was SO excited. I believe I was screaming  in the aid station. Everyone seemed amused. Oh well. Good for something.

One of the race timers told me, "You're third woman overall, 2nd USATF." 

"What does that mean?"

"You're third woman. The second place woman isn't USATF. So you're second USATF."

"What do I get?"

"A shiny silver medal."

"I want a pony!"

But alas, I did not get a pony, but I do get a rather nice cheque. 

The USATF thing...you have to be a member of USA Track & Field, or you won't be counted in this race as a USATF winner, and since this is the national championships, it makes sense to be a member. I'm a member. The 2nd place woman didn't realize this, was not a member, and was rather upset at the awards ceremony. I don't blame her, as she ran a stellar race, and it wasn't acknowledged in the awards ceremony officially.

Anyway, the last 3.5 hours were rough. Chris and I both felt pretty tired. He hit a wall around hour 23 and I am afraid he may have been cursing me frequently in his head. I believe I did the same at one point. Something along the lines of, "WTF, why are we running? OMG this hurts, UGH, I hate this." But we stuck together. We were at the point where we had run together so long, we were NOT going to lose each other. We'd coordinate our bathroom breaks or I'd walk while he'd go or vice versa and then we'd catch up with each other.

We finished. Chris ran more miles than me early on, for 127 miles total. WOW. I kick myself for my stupid blister problems, which I probably wasted about 45 minutes total on. (What can you do, though?) Possibly more. Ouch. And my stomach is always a challenge. Luckily, Immodium, pretzels, veggie broth, and muffins saved the day.

At the end of the day, I had something like 115.4 miles. A PR. I was very proud of myself. 2nd woman USATF, 3rd woman overall.

I was a little delirious. I ate food, then we left partway through the awards ceremony so I could throw myself into the shower, shove all my disgusting and stinky and wet running attire and supplies into my suitcase, and rush into the airport and onto my flight with wet hair and bags under my eyes.

And then it was all a dream...an amazing race...new friends made....those paths will never leave my head.

Next up....New York City Marathon! I don't think the aid stations will be anywhere near as good, but I always love a running party! 

Ted Corbitt 24 Hour: A Great Race Honoring a Great Man

This great race, The Ted Corbitt 24 Hour, honoring the spirit of the Great Ted Corbitt, began with Ted's pre-race mantra:

*I will be relaxed and free of all restrictions, free of all coordination tensions in running.

*I will feel buoyant and strong while running.

*I will run in a perfect pacing coordination form.

*I will be at ease during the morning of a/the race and my pulse will not accelerate before or during the pre-race physical examination.

*I will run hard and enjoy the effort.

*My gastro-intestinal system will remain normal in function on the day of a race and especially during a race.

*On the day of a race all body organs will function perfectly, especially the heart and digestive systems.

Ted was considered to be one of the greatest American runners, and was an active and incredible marathoner and ultramarathoner. His friends honor his spirit and accomplishments with this 24 hour ultra.

I originally didn't want to do this race, because it was a week after Hinson Lake 24 Hour. Well, duh, of course I can do two ridiculously-long races two weeks in a row. So says Ray K. And I'm stupid so I listen and I signed up.

The race was located in Juniper Park, less than 5 miles from my home. 1.1982 miles was the loop, and you ran it as many times as you could in 24 hours. 

I started out and immediately felt the hard miles from the week before. My hamstrings were TIGHT. Ouch. I was tired. I took it easy, walking laps here and there. 

My parents showed up, with TWO apple turnovers from the famed Malverne Bakery, and a carrot muffin. I have to say, apple turnovers are AMAZING during ultras. I walked a little with my parents, though they do walk slow (and my legs had already running many miles).

My time was much slower than at Hinson - I could feel the miles of Hinson. Okay, 4:30 for a marathon isn't terrible, neither is a 9:30 50 miler. But this wouldn't be a performance like Hinson. Okay. Well, you can't have two tough long runs two weeks in a row.

I got to meet new friends - this is why I LOVE 24 hour runs. I talked with Emmy a little. I caught up with Erin, chit-chatting with her about the latest in our lives. I met Fred Davis, Jay, Louis, Nick, and others. We cheered each other up, cheered each other on, joked about the tiny hill being a mountain.

me and emmy, pretty in pink!

Wayne stopped by in the early evening, which was a nice surprise. He was in back pain and didn't want to even walk a loop with me. Boo you. I'll run instead. Ouch.

I bantered with the aid station, placing elaborate orders for meals we all knew they couldn't provide, laughing the whole way. The aid station was a step above basic: pbj, chips, pretzels, honeydew, cantaloupe, pasta at night, pancakes in the morning (heavenly!!!), bagels & cream cheese in the morning, broth, tea....

I was running up the hill toward the turn when I heard my name being cheered...by Bomina & John Slaski! I got so excited, I screamed and jumped up and down! They walked towards the timing station and hung out with Wayne for a while, watching me run laps.

The night crew came on in the timing station around 10pm - lots of awesome people, like Phil, Chip, Skye, Shane. All friends of mine so it was lovely to see a cheerful person every lap.

I grew tired. I took my 5 hour energy shot, but it didn't perk me up. Susan's husband made me a perfectly terrible tea (As he put it oh-so-hilariously, "You take a Tetley bag, combine it with bad water and questionable sugar, you get terrible tea." Hahah.) and that actually perked me up, even if it did taste terrible. I ran. I sang to myself aloud. (Sorry, other runners around me!) I even danced while I ran. I tried to avoid the occasional rat. I chatted with my friends as we passed each other.

Morning came. People were running on the track, walking their dogs, chilling in the park, way before dawn. People, what is wrong with you? Go back to bed! I slogged around.

100 miles in 21:50. Not bad. Not bad. I napped in a chair for 15 minutes, then ran some more. And walked when it hurt. And ran.

this is how i run an ultra

I ran 108.56 miles, not bad. Third woman. The blisters on my feet were horrendous, and I couldn't fit my feet in shoes after. But I learned a lot, I had a lot of fun, spent some good time with good friends, people watched in a super interesting park for 24 hours. How much more fun could one have in 24 hours? Normally, not this much - you'd be sleeping, missing out on all of those hours and hours of fun!

Hinson Lake 24 Hour Race Report (or 17.5 Hour Race Report)

You can't always get what you want...or what you train for.

Hinson Lake 24 Hour is one of my favourite races - the people are just wonderful, helpful and energetic. I have never been to a race and met so many new friends. The race entry fee is only $24 ($1 a mile), and the support - the volunteers, the food, etc - is outstanding. You also get a tshirt and a pint glass and sticker. (Pint glasses are good, since our house we break them a lot.)

I was really excited to run here again - it's such a fun race, and I get to combine it with a visit to my baby sister and her absolutely adorable baby. We had a complete blast and her baby is now a toddler and in love with me and she's SO much fun!

I got up at 430am & headed out to drive from my sister's in Raleigh to the race. I freaked out when there was some weird closure and no one had any clue what was going on and we were stopped for over 30 minutes.

The start of the race was a reunion with friends from last year. A lot of people remembered me (my signature buns and pink running skirts) and I was delighted to see my two favourite Hinson-ites, Alyssa and Hailey (sp?), daughters of Joe Fejes and Kelley Wellls (not together - they are daughters of them separately) who are BFF at races and they are super cute and yell, "GO PINK LADY" at me when I run by. They made me a bracelet they presented to me on one of the early loops and I really treasured it. Ultrarunning is really special.

Everyone was chatting and helping each other out. Because I came from NY, instead of having a shade structure and chairs and coolers, I had a bunch of plastic and tote bags. Ghetto fabulous. A random runner (turned out to be women's winner Andrea) invited me into her shade structure and she and her husband were super nice - "Oh, use our cooler if you want." "Sit in the chairs."

After around 30-something miles, I was maintaining a comfortable lead, feeling good. And then, a blister...ouch. I had to stop. I pulled a safety pin out of my bib (ouch, not that hygenic!) and popped my blister. I put moleskin on it and tried to run. Not happening. Kelley, who was not running this year due to injury, duct taped my toe and I must admit, it was better than a band-aid. Maybe she should try this in her role as a nurse? Ha. After a lap, it was still bothering me and I knew what I needed to do: have a Ray K operation performed. Eric, Andrea's husband, cut my shoe for me so there's  nice big hole in the side of the shoe, next to my big toe. Air conditioning! But seriously - it worked and my blister didn't bother me the rest of the race.

I was running pretty solid, chatting with lots of people. I was pushing the pace, but it felt do-able. I ran a 4 hour marathon, 5 hour 50k, and sub 8:30 50 miler...which is pretty freaking good considering my PR for 50 miles is 8:31 at Lake Waramug. I ate a mixture of gus, a few random aid station snacks, and lots and lots of ginger ales.

I kept going. I felt good, but as the sky grew darker, a pain popped up in my groin. A pain that I've never had before. I began to get worried. It hurt too much to walk - and running was hardly pleasant either.

I made a tough decision - having 3 more 24 hour races this season, and 2 marathons, I decided to stop at 17.5 hours. I was sad, and actually cried quite a bit about this. This was after I tried to lie down and couldn't - I was in too much pain. I walked to the car, devastated, but at the same time, hoping I was making the right decision.

After some time off, my groin is totally better. Whew. Was I overcautious? I don't know. But I do know I'm not hurt, which is really huge. So I'm glad that I"m not, but disappointed I didn't get to do the famed banana lap.

Operation Endurance 24 Hour Race Report: Great Aid, Felt Like Crap, Somehow Was First Woman, and Ray K Rocks

So a radical leftist ultrarunner heads to an army base to run a .995 mile loop course for 24 hours. What could be more fun?

It was an absolute blast.

GUTS put on an awesome race, Operation Endurance 24 hour (with 12 and 6 hour options too). The aid was amazing – some of the best I’ve had at an ultra. Aid stations featured water and powerade (which I mixed with water) and it was really nice to not have to carry a bottle. The food included pizza, grilled cheese, quesadillas, soups, mashed potatoes, Easter treats, the usual snacks, cookies, chips, pretzels, gummy bears, Moon pies, hamburgers, and so much more. It really was really a fantastic selection and I never felt like they didn’t have what I wanted or needed at any given moment.

The course is flat, almost a mile. It’s soft dirt with some small crushed gravel (not really gravel but those tiny little rocks) and was really nice to run on. Some people complained of slippage, but I thought it was a soft surface and my feet under the toes on the ball did not hurt one tiny bit. Wooooh!

It’s also completely lit up so you don’t need to wear a headlamp which is wonderful. There are port-a-potties RIGHT next to the course (which was great so you didn’t waste time going to the bathroom, unless you were having kidney issues which are another thing). There were cots to nap on under a tent, rows of tables under tents (so your stuff wouldn’t get wet) with seats, seats, glorious seats. There was plenty of spot to set up a table, a tent, arrange your stuff. The course had trees and bushes around part of it, with a little creek/water area. I saw an armadillo, several deer, tadpoles, and saw some other animal I couldn’t identify.

Interesting, fun, and a great race.

The only negative I’d say is that it is completely exposed so you will get very sunburned if you’re not careful/a Northerner. I could really feel the heat – it got into the 70s.

I started the race a little fast. Um, a lot fast. Wait, wtf am I running sub 8s? I slowed down and ended up getting in a groove with a nice guy, Hong. We ran 8:30s. STILL too fast.

My tummy felt off from the start – never a good thing. I ran with Hong for a few hours and then decided to slow things down. I kept running, but slowed the pace. And began feeling even crappier way too soon.

So I backed off. I began drinking more – a mixture of powerade and water. I felt like hell, my legs felt like crap, and I just felt exhausted.

Now, please note – from Monday – Friday before the race, I had been sick with what I realize was some sort of virus or minor flu – exhaustion, sore throat, headaches, achiness. I went home from work early Monday and Thursday, took a half sick day from Tuesday (and worked a few sporadic hours from bed) and worked at home Wednesday. Thursday I felt like utter crap. (Don't tell Ray K this - he'll say, "I've changed lots of babies' diapers and you don't feel like crap.") I was feeling a lot better by Friday but was still taking medicine and feeling pretty wiped out. Friday night before the race I slept over eight and a half hours and slept an hour and a half in the car – and I was STILL tired. So I definitely was not in top shape to run a race. I should have taken a more conservative approach, incorporating more walk breaks early on. With a flat course, it’s hard to find an excuse to walk. Later in the race, I’d stop by the aid table, grab a quick snack and walk on through, munching. Or walk and sip a drink. Or just walk right by there to give my legs something different to feel.

I felt progressively worse. Tears in my eyes worse. I definitely was not running 120+ miles today. My lead was gone and I was now feeling death march-ish.

Enter Ray K to the rescue. He was doing a fast shuffle around the track (The Ray K shuffle is a pace in between a very fast walk and a run.) and would run hard-ish at the mile mark to the quarter mile mark. I joined him and a really nice funny guy Keith for a while, and the combo of walking/running was a lot of fun. We laughed, told stories, and Keith and I developed a rapport of eye and facial expressions about Ray’s stories. Ray told us stories abt Gary Cantrell (aka Lazarus Lake), Barkley Marathons, Fred Lebow, Ted Corbitt, Jimmy Carter, duct tape on socks and ER visits, and other interesting ultrarunning tales. It was a lot of fun and I was honestly sad when Keith finished the 12 hour. I missed him.

I began running again more. I felt like utter crap and talked to Ray. I was thinking I’d just tell Scott I was done and go back to his house and sleep. Scott had come out to do the 12 hour as a Keys 100 Test Race and realized he wasn’t trained enough and ready enough for Keys – so he dropped shortly after 6 hours and was chilling with friends, waiting for me. Scott was actually the reason I was there. He kept nudging me with Facebook messages about what a great PR course it was, how I could go 120 miles there, how it was so much fun. And once my Umstead 100 plans were thwarted by my cousin’s wedding, it would be a substitute race. And when I found out Vikena was putting it on and Ray K would be there, icing on the cake.

But I wasn’t feeling good. My whole body was aching. My feet were especially swollen. I was hallucinating like crazy – whenever I looked at the track, instead of footprints I would see fossils and hieroglyphics and Mayan carvings and sea shells and sea creatures. When I’d close my eyes (even as early in the race as a few hours in), I would see black with neon-glowing lines. When I went into the port-a-potty, the walls felt like they were closing in on me. I’ve never done acid, but from the descriptions from friends, this is probably what it is like. (And honestly, it FREAKED me out and why would you want to feel that?)

Ray said, “Why don’t you use this as a test run? Test out different methods and shoes and foods and stuff. Why don’t you try to lay down for a few hours and see if you feel better? If you don’t, you can just leave.”

That sounded smart. I was feeling like hell and I didn’t see how things could change. I put in another few laps and settled down on one of the cots with a sleeping bag provided by Scott at 14 hours.

I was cold. My body hurt. My mind was too awake. I kept seeing images. I shifted, tossed and turned. I had taken off my shoes and had my feet slightly elevated. I heard the slam-slam-slam of the port-a-potty doors, heard chatter. I couldn’t sleep. I realized I can never do a multiday b/c I just can’t fall asleep during a race. I even have trouble after. When my body is in that much pain, it is hard for me to shut off.

After less than an hour (and Ray’s suggestion was 2hrs-3.5 hrs), I decided, “Screw this. I cannot sleep.” And I felt a burst of energy. Afraid Ray would dissuade me, I quickly pulled on my socks and sneakers. And then I grabbed a grilled cheese. Mmmmmmm. One of many delicious grilled cheeses I would eat. I grabbed my headphones, which I never run with except at night during 24 hours. (It gives me energy when I’m falling asleep. I do pull off an ear bud whenever I pass a runner to say hi but many of the army dudes in the race didn’t do the same thing so you’d be talking to them and they wouldn’t hear you.)

And BOOM, I was GONE. I took off. People were staring at me. “Wasn’t she just sleeping?” “She has been in terrible shape for a while and now, wow!” (Well, that’s what I assume they were thinking.)

When I passed Ray, he was a little shocked.

I put in some good mileage. Ray told me that the 2^nd place woman was dropping with 75 miles. “You just gotta keep putting in miles and you’ll move up there.” And a little while later, the first place woman left the track, feeling hellish. (At the start she had said, “I hear we have similar time goals. We should run together.” And I thought that sounded great. Too bad our high and low points were not coordinated or we could have cheered each other on.)

The hours somehow passed. I divided 24 hour races up into four six-hour segments which helps me mentally handle it better. The last 8 hours – “This is less than a regular workday!” And the time flew.

I walked with Ray K. I realized walking hurt more than running, so I ran. I ran and walked. I finally came in an hour before, with Scott who went out on the course to find me.

“Yes, you’re first place woman. 86 laps. Second place is 84.”

Scott and I set out for two more laps. My feet were so swollen and spotted with heat rash and covered with blisters that I changed into socks and Birkenstocks. We chatted and it was so cheering to finish a race with a friend.

I finished and ran through the finish line with hands in the air, huge smile on my face. Vikena gave me a dog tag instead of a medal (Nice concept for a race on a military base.) and being 1^st woman, I got an awesome North Face backpack  embroidered with “Operation Endurance 24 Hour.”

I was so happy. Scott drove up his car onto the track and we packed things up and we found an IHOP. It was one of the best meals I have ever had – it tasted wonderful. I was starving of course. As I will be for the next two days.

Overall – a fantastic race. Well-organized, great support, super friendly people, free butt slaps during the race, big clocks to countdown. I highly recommend it and yeah, I’ll probably be back.