I became an Ultra Runner on July 29th, 2017.
Earlier this year, I decided to take up ultrarunning, and I had the brilliant idea to pick one of the most difficult races in the country as my first ultramarathon. The Pikes Peak Ultra, a race organized by Mad Moose Events, takes place in Colorado Springs, Colorado, and has three courses: 50 miles, 50 km and 30km. The 50k race has a net elevation gain of 9800 ft over what seems like an infinite number of miles. (Not really; the entire race really only consists of 31.1 miles. But when you’re on the mountain, it seems like someone keeps lengthening the trails.) What goes up, must come down, so the race also has a 9800 ft elevation loss. Here is the race website for your viewing pleasure: Pikes Peak Ultra
The day before the race was highly eventful, and I really hoped it wasn’t a forewarning of how race-day was going to be. The saying “when it rains, it pours” proved to be 100% accurate. I had planned to pick up my bib from the running store the day before the race, so I knew we had to start driving shortly after getting off work. The universe had other plans: we got stuck in very bad traffic, turning our 1.5 hour drive into 3 hours, missing the packet pickup time by less than 10 minutes. Whatever, nothing goes as planned, so I wasn’t too worried. We checked into our hotel, and went to meet up with friends for a pre-race carb-load pasta dinner. Just as we were turning towards the restaurant parking lot, we were almost hit by someone who ran a red light. I could’ve easily spent the night either in the hospital or jail, because if we had been hit, I would have knocked that dude out.
After dinner, we went back to the hotel, and as I was packing my hydration vest, I realized that I had forgotten my water bottle in Boulder. After filling the bladder with water, it started leaking profusely, only to find a gaping hole on the bottom that I swear wasn’t there before. Luckily, I had a bottle of Smart Water that I used as a replacement. Finally, at about 12am, I realized I only had about 5 hours before I had to wake up and climb to the top of Mount Rosa, a peak standing at approximately 11500 ft. I swear, Mother Nature and Mount Rosa had had a discussion on how to royally screw me the day of the race, because “shark week” decided to start two days early. Glorious, I thought to myself, while hoping that I wouldn’t bleed to death somewhere on the trail. I don’t take pain medication, so pain was a given, but as they say “suffering is part of life,” and not showing up was out of the question.
That night, I had about two hours of sleep, accompanied by several nightmares. Furthermore, the several news and weather outlets had rain and thunderstorms in the forecast. Race-day was shaping up to be a marvelous experience!
Race-day started with a beautiful sunrise, with no storms in sight. Props to my babies and my husband for waking up at 5am, taking me to Starbucks to get a Vanilla Late, and chauffeuring me to the start line. I swear, I was the only runner with a coffee at the start line! I had four goals: finish under 6 hours, finish between 6-8 hours, finish between 8-10 hours and finish before cutoff. I had to hit one of them!
(My boys playing in Bear Creek Regional Park by the start line!)
Mile 1 – Mile 7.5: First Aid Station
This part of the race was very misleading: it was easy; too easy. I was running at a sub-9 minutes per mile pace, and so were the other runners. All I kept thinking was that I didn’t want to be stuck in the back, so I had to keep pushing, but I was dreading the climb that was about to begin at about mile 2. I was surprised at how easily I pushed up that hill. Okay, mountain. It was a freaking mountain! But I was able to get some running in with the power-hike, and I made it to the aid-station in 1 hour 33 minutes, only 3 minutes behind target. Not bad! I also met a dog who was so happy to see me that her human parent had a hard time pulling her off. I always make friends with animals on trails!
Mile 7.5 – Mile 11: Second Aid Station
This section had some downhills and single track trails, so I sprinted a little. At one point, I was passed by a couple male runners, which was cool, but I was not cool with being passed by the female runner. I thought “How in the world is she running so fast?!” I didn’t have too much time to think, because the trail quickly took me to a road. A paved road. Really? Pavement?! I thought this was a mountain race! Luckily, my frustration quickly ended along with the pavement at the second Aid Station. I was still mostly on track for an under 6-hour finish.
Mile 11-16: Third Aid Station
The 3rd Aid Station should be renamed Hell Station, because this was probably the most technically challenging section of the entire course. The views, however, were breathtaking. I almost ended up getting lost, but luckily one of the volunteers steered me the right way. I wanted to go straight; he told me I had to go up. Up?! Again?! At some point on the ridge I got very hungry, so I decided to eat half of the Nutella sandwich my husband made for me. Here’s what I learned here:
1. eating with your mouth open while power-hiking is perfectly acceptable
2. eating while power-hiking at altitude makes even chocolate sandwich taste like cardboard
3. so this is what mountain goats feel like!
4. eating solid foods while trying to power-hike is a terrible idea
I felt so accomplished when I passed a few runners, only to get caught by others. I thought I was doing so well! I did meet a lovely lady from Colorado Springs, who assured me there would be a slight downhill up ahead. She was right: there was a downhill up ahead, but sadly, it was a short-lived downhill. We started going up again, and it was brutal. Other runners caught up to me, whom I let pass, but who also advised I shouldn’t have, as I was setting a good pace. At least I wasn’t the only one struggling! These five miles I swear seemed like an eternity. We kept looking at out GPS watches, and all of us showed a different distance. Isn’t that great? Don’t you LOVE technology? I really wanted mine to be accurate, since mine showed we were at 16 miles… Except the aid station wasn’t in sight, so I begrudgingly continued to hike, and listen for music, cheers or any signs of the aid station. Finally, after an eternity (5 miles), I arrived at Hell Station. They assured me that the rest of the way wouldn’t be as difficult, but I knew that Bitch Rosa, I mean Mount Rosa, was still ahead.
Mile 16-20: Fourth Aid Station
I knew that I had two miles to go to the summit, and two miles back to the aid station. At this point, my 6 hour finish was a pipe-dream, but that was okay. I just really wanted to make the 8-10 hour finish. As I was hiking towards the peak (I swear, that bitch was laughing at me from afar!), I saw my new friend from Colorado Springs run towards me screaming how close I was to the top. “Close” is so relative when it comes to running, though… It took me a solid 30 minutes to reach the peak, but I made it. I had been looking forward to taking a panoramic shot of Pikes Peak, but thanks to the clouds, my old friend was hiding. What I did manage to take a picture of is the massive amounts of lady bugs, who apparently have their orgy convention at the peak of Mount Rosa during mating season. I still feel dirty thinking about it…
I was also looking forward to drinking the can of Coke Life I had been hauling in my hydration vest, only to discover there was a hole in it. I thought we had been past the bad luck! I decided to give the middle finger to my bad luck, open the can with coke still spraying out from the side, and enjoying what was left of it. I met more runners at the summit, including someone from California. Great, a flatlander running just as fast as I was. My ego took a hit, especially since two of the runners who were running the 50 mile race also arrived. They had already run 30 miles! After about 20 minutes (way too long) spent at the top, I made my way back. It was supposed to be all downhill from here! I saw several 50 mile racers on the way up, who seemed like super heroes at the time! After the longest 4 miles ever (2 of which were downhill), I arrived at the aid station.
Mile 20-25: Fifth Aid Station
This part was supposed to be fast, as it was downhill. By the time I got here, the clouds started to thicken, albeit still no thunder. It did start to rain, and I knew I wasn’t supposed to get my heart rate monitor wet, so I put on my rain jacket, and ran downhill. About a mile (maybe less) down the trail the rain stopped, and I was sweating profusely in my jacket. Are you kidding me?! I had JUST put the damn thing on! I wanted to push it to the final aid station. I wasn’t going to allow anyone pass me again. By this time, the pile of rocks in my shoes and socks turned into a mountain, and it felt like I was running without shoes. As a result, I slowed down enough to be passed by a runner. My thought: “That’s just great. Maybe it will help if I have some gel.” Except I can’t run and eat, so I started to walk… On the downhill… My California friend caught up to me, and passed. “Pissed off” doesn’t even describe how I felt at that point. I cleaned my socks and my shoes, and I ran as fast as I could from there. When I got out to the dirt road, I could see the aid station. It was still pretty far, about a mile or so away, but I wanted to make it there so badly, that I ran pretty damn fast! I’m sure that the lack of sand and rocks in my shoes helped the pace.
Mile 25-31: To the Finish
This was the last Aid Station. I broke down. I missed my babies so much! I just wanted the race to end! The folks at the aid station told me there was one last hill of about a mile, and then the road veered downhill. Up?! Again??? I just wanted to cry. They offered me food, but I didn’t feel like eating anything, except for pickles. They had pickles! One of the race organizers told me to just power-hike the hill, and then slowly run downhill. At this point, two more runners had caught up to me, and I just about had enough. I said my goodbyes, and ran uphill. I heard several people yell after me “don’t run! Walk!” But I ran. And I power-hiked, and ran some more, and caught up with the people who had passed me, and passed them, with one of them yelling “lookin’ good!” At the top of the hill, I decided to book it, and sprinted for the next 4 miles. I ran at what must’ve been sub-7 minutes per mile pace. My arms were swinging hard, my legs were flying, and my breathing was rhythmic, but easy. I felt great. Screw “Red Bull gives you wings.” How about “pickles give you wings”? I caught up to my new buddy from California who yelled “see you later!” I ran like I am used to running on roads. I thought to myself I should have used this energy in the 3rd and 4th sections. I surely would’ve had a better finish time!
As I turned the last corner, I saw my family near the finish line. My boys were screaming for Mommy,” so of course, they ran through the finish line with me. They were my crew after all. Even though they hadn’t run with me on the course, I thought of them every moment, and knowing I would hug them at the very end gave me the strength I needed to move forward. I finished within my 3rd goal time, at 8:38.
Things I learned:
⁃ Mother Nature is a bitch.
⁃ How to share a bathroom with the bears.
⁃ How to be completely nonchalant after coming out from behind a rock, even though you had previously checked several times if the coast was clear.
⁃ Going on a 2 hour road trip after such a race is a terrible idea.
⁃ Use the aid stations, rather than hauling the food.
– Having to pull yourself up the stairs after an ultra is great arm exercise.
– I need to put more effort in during the tough sections. I didn’t even feel like I had just run a 50k after the race. My husband said I looked good, and my friend from California congratulated me on my strong finish. Maybe if I put in consistent effort in the future, I will finish with a better time.
– I learned a lot about how my body works, and gained a new appreciation for it throughout the entire process of preparing and running my first ultra.
The Day After
Where do I sign up for the 100k Bear Chase Ultra?
Thank you to Mad Moose Events and the volunteers for this incredible experience!
Thank you and congratulations to my fellow runners in all three races!
Thank you for all the encouraging words from my family and friends.
Thank you to my babies for waiting for mommy at the finish line, and for being so patient while mommy was out running.
Thank you to my husband for his support, and spending hours with me on the phone during my long runs.
Thank you to all the hikers who encouraged us along the way.
Thank you to Mother Nature for holding off on the thunderstorms.