Swinging Bridge 50K - January 16, 2010

The race advertisement said 80% trail, no significant elevation changes but crosses up to a dozen creeks and numerous short hills. Doesn't sound too hard, right? So, I crawl out of bed at 3am to dress and make the 3 hour drive down to the race site. After an hour of driving, I stop to get gas and realize I've left my purse at home. I had stuck $20 in my pocket, but didn't know if that would buy enough gas to get down and back, plus we were supposed to pay for parking at the state park and I didn't know how much that was going to be. Panic! I spotted a Sheetz gift card sitting on my dash that was slated for someone else - and decided I could use that and just replace the card when I got home. Onward I went. Finally, I pulled into the state park and found the race site. There were three port-a-potties at the registration site. Those were it for the duration of the race (and the start/finish line was a little ways down the trail). I figured there were about 100 people there for the race, but I didn't know how many were going to do the 35K and how many were doing the 50K. Some were probably like me, sitting on the fence until we actually were running the race. Besides, there was that little thing called a cutoff time that could pose a problem. It was cold and I was shivering, but it was supposed to warm up to the 50s later in the day. I was happy they finally said "Go!" Off we went, single file through the woods. The trail started off fairly wide, but the farther along we ran, the narrower the trail became until soon it was a glorified deer trail. The hills started right away, nothing really steep, but I began to realize this was going to be a lot hillier than I first thought. The second obstacle was logs. Logs were down on the path everywhere. Some you jumped over, some you climbed over, and some you climbed under. After about a mile and a half, the line of people I was following reached the first intersection of confusion. "Where did the white trail blazes go?" We went one way, but it didn't seem right. Finally, someone went off in the opposite direction. "Here they are!" Now we're climbing an even bigger hill. The path widens out and several people pass me, then on the down hill I pass several people back. I just love to open up and let gravity take me down the hill. Now we're running along a creek. Oof! Down I go. "I'm ok!" I say, and pick myself up. Down a slippery bank, sliding backwards this time onto my rear-end. "I'm ok!" The first couple of streams were shallow and in the woods. They were still frozen and you sort of skated across them. Then we came to the real stream. The larger streams had fairly steep banks on either side. So you would have to climb down to the creek, wade across it, then climb back up the other side. These banks got muddier as the day went on. The water was freezing and calf high, in some places knee high. When you climbed out to the other side your feet were numb until you got moving again. I was moving along and felt the presence of a few people behind me (not much room to pass on the trails), so I stopped to let them go by. There were 10 people or more right behind me. They go by and then they miss the trail and end up behind me again. As we came out of the woods at one road intersection, I fall flat on my face. I'm thinking "I'll just lie here a while and contemplate life" But then, these two guys come by and literally pick me up and set me back on my feet. They did point out the ambulance down the road. So it's 7.5 miles into the race, and I don't know how many times I've fallen, but I'm having a little pity party. I've about given up doing the 50k and thinking that a 35k training run in these woods might be enough for me. One of the guys walks with me and then runs with me once I start moving again. He is in the army and was in Iraq back in the summer. He tells me of the RPG that he could have reached out and touched as it shot by their helicopter, the pickup truck full of Iraqi policemen that was blown up right before his eyes, and the mortar that landed near him but didn't explode. His wife told him that he didn't come back the same. How could you? It reminds me of the incredible sacrifice our soldiers are making, and of the challenges they face on a daily basis. Real challenges, life and death stare at you in the face all the time. He helps me down one of the slippery banks and up the other side of the creek and then he moves on. Now I'm content, as I watch the runners move farther away from me. I like running alone in the woods. But I really have to go to the bathroom! Finally I reach the aid station at the 10.5 mile turn around. No porta-potty. "You don't happen to have a bathroom, here?" I ask. "Well you can go down the road there, and turn left into the woods." Ha ha - that's exactly what I do. As I head out of the woods there are 4 other women squatting in various places. I head back on the trail, enjoying the peace and quiet, when the 4 women catch up to me. They seemed pretty content to stay behind me, and so I lead for a time. The women talk nonstop as they run. Some people love to talk during a run - the companionship makes the miles go by. But me, I love the solitude of the woods. I stop to get a rock out of my shoe and they move on. Now I'm really alone. I begin to relax and view the race like I intended - as a training run. I'm recontemplating the 50k. After all, I'm the warrior princess, I can't wimp out at the 35k mile marker. I think about all my friends who just completed the Disney marathon, for some their first marathon ever, or of those who did the Goofy (half-marathon on Saturday, marathon on Sunday), and how they pushed through and finished. So I decide that if I can make it back by 4hrs 30 min, that gives me 3 hrs to do the extra 10 miles. Piece of cake, right? For the first 10 miles, my paces ranged 10:34min to 13:55, depending on the hills, the number of obstacles etc. On the next 10 miles my paces ranged from 12:44 to 16:59, depending on whether I needed a potty break or how many times I fell down, etc. So by the time I got to the 35k mark the time was 4hrs45min into the race. 15 minutes before cutoff! I asked them if they would pull me if I didn't make it back in 7:30. When they said nope, this was the only cutoff that counted, I headed down the new path for the last 10 miles. As I headed out, other runners were coming back. I realized that most of the runners did the 35k. Up and down the hills I went - some of the climbs were not "short" as the advertisement said. This was as gnarly a trail as any I had been on yet. On one creek bank, I sat on my rear-end and slid down to the creek, crossed it, then crawled on my hands and knees to get up the other side. At the final turn around and the last five miles, they informed me that there was one other person behind me. I said, "Oh, maybe I should slow down, so I can be last." I did slow down, but not intentionally, although I knew that as long as someone was behind me I was okay. In the end, I passed a guy who seemed a bit lost. Now there were two behind me. Right at the end, one of the guys caught up and passed me, finishing about 30 seconds ahead of me. Next, I crossed the finish line in 7:36:48 and the final guy was 3 seconds behind me. 31 people did the 50k, of those 4 were women, so I was 4th woman overall! And of us 4 women, we were all 40 or older. Go masters women! I was proud of myself for sticking with the game plan. It would have been real easy to quit after 35k - it wouldn't really have been quitting since it was an official race distance, but for me it would have meant taking the easy route out, of not pushing myself to the limit. How will I get better unless I test myself, to know what it will take to finish the race strong (no matter what place you come in). So that's what I did.