The Stories Anthology Part 1
I don't think I can write a traditional race report for Stories. After all, it was so much more then we started, we ran the red loop in the dark, then the green as the sun rose, then blue and red and repeated throughout the day, into the night and again as the sun dawned for the second morning. No, that's not how I remember the day. Instead, it's a collection of moments and of experiences. The community surrounding the race, made clear by every encounter on the trail. The dedication of the crews and volunteers to keep runners moving as best they could. And so, instead I present this collection of short stories about the race.
In the beginning.
It’s never the pre-race email you want to get. A windstorm wreaking havoc on the venue, destroying a days work meant to keep the runners and the volunteers comfortable and happy. Yet that’s what happened Saturday morning. I live so close to the park, I was surprised to hear it - there was no wind at home when I woke up. But when I drove in, the gusts pummeled my car, pushing me across the road. And still, when I arrived, the only outward signs of the predawn chaos were the missing archway and the shattered U-haul window. Everything else was running smoothly - from getting parked to picking up my number. A quick pre-race briefing - very quick, after all there had plenty of information provided in the dissertation of a runners manual and pre-race emails. And then we were off into the darkness. A mellow start as we streamed off the road onto the trail, the headlamps of 60 runners piercing the darkness. The wind was still gusting, teasing at our clothes and hats. But there was a stillness in the trees and the sun was starting to break the darkness. Despite all the chaos, it was going to be a beautiful day. Do not worry about what you can not control - like the wind. That is the overarching moral of ultra running and something that I'm still learning.
The Loops
There were four main loops in play for Stories. The short Red loop clocked in at 2.65 miles, with a minimum of climbing. Nice and easy, almost entirely in the sun and a short little jaunt before returning to the Aid Station. Green was next. A little longer at 3.63 miles, with some more climbing and the first introduction to both the ice and the mud. Everyone used Red and Green, so those two loops were always busy. Then came Blue. Blue was even longer at 6.09 miles, and the loneliest loop of the race. Once you left the main trail, you were all alone with your thoughts, the wind and the animals. And the mud. More on that later. To me, Blue was the hardest to motivate for because it felt so alone, especially at night. Finally of the main loops was Purple, or as some people called it the "Purple People Eater." This was the longest at 7.24, the most technical running and the most treacherous conditions at all temperatures. Despite the length, Purple was also the most social loop so it was my favorite loop. You doubled back on the course, climbed with all the other loops and got to see people for nearly the entire time. And finally, if you got to that point, there was the Golden Loop. A short, almost flat .67 mile loop around the campsite only used during the last hour of each race. Just long enough to get some more miles completed if you wanted, but no so long that you risked not having the lap count. I didn't get a lap on Gold. By the time I reached the point where I would be able to, I was done. But when the other races were on the Gold loop, it was fun crossing paths and cheering them on. While there were some times I didn't want to head out again, the fact that it was something different each time kept me going.
About halfway through my first green loop, I realized something - as a PT I should have noticed it much much sooner. While the colors seemed in random order, they were actually perfectly aligned with theraband.... From easiest to hardest.
Of Ice and Mud
I know CMSP. I know the kind of mud that develops there when some of the trails are wet. It's a soul sucking mud that reaches up and tries to grab your foot. There's no traction, just the feeling of mud giving way with each step. But before the mud came the ice. I honestly ran the first complete circuit faster then I had originally planned. I was feeling good, I had great company on Purple and I knew based on marking blue that things would deteriorate once the sun began warming the ground. There was ice coating the backside of Sundance on Blue and the Blackmere climb that Green, Blue and Purple used. On that first circuit, it was delicately dancing over the ice, happy for a few rocks scattered here and there to keep traction. By the time I'd hit Green for the second time, the ice was getting slick with melt and the water was soaking into the dirt. Signs of things to come as I picked my way through the mud. And then came Blue. I was hoping that with the clouds, I would have a chance of getting off the second Blue before it started getting really bad. I have never been so happy to see packed snow as I was on that second Blue lap! But at least the ice on Blackmere wasn't as bad! It was covered in mud! Another runner and I joked about that on that climb, that we were both so happy to see the ice since it meant there was a break from the mud. The worst was yet to come... Purple. I had to climb up Blackmere's pit of despair, cross Cougars Shadow and then descend the south side of Blackmere. They say mud is good for the skin. It wasn't good for moral, that's for sure! I brought four pairs of shoes with me, one as an emergency pair. I had to use that pair later in the race as to not get my newer shoes for the last miles covered in mud! Every person I saw once I dropped of Blackmere was asking about the mud. It became the intro question after what loop are you on? How's the mud fairing? Is it firming up at all? Mud as the primary topic of conversation. Runners on the last stretch into the campsite, legs covered in mud, looking dazed after slipping and sliding through the mud, carrying an extra 10 pounds on their shoes. Little did we know.... We were all so happy to have the mud freeze that we didn't realize the ankle biting ridges of foot prints would be almost as treacherous as the mud to maneuver in the later hours of the race. I was looking forward to finally being able to run down Blackmere on my overnight loops, only to discover that the running on the frozen mud was almost as bad as running in the mud. With tired legs, the delicate balance to maintain smooth momentum over the mud was a challenge. It soon became evident that I needed to walk on those sections.
The Question
Everyone had a question on the back of their bib. Something to ponder over the course of the the race. The questions ran the gamut of the existential to reality, but forced us all to think of something deeper then just running. Ideally, John would record each runner answering their question after the 50k mark in the race - ensuring plenty of time to really dig deep and think about it. I built some time into the plan, but ended up not going in right at 50k. It was too early to stop at that point. I wanted to keep running and make the stop count - when I would need to add a few layers for the night and start getting ready for the dark. So I went in just before 50 miles, with some soup to eat while we were chatting and hopefully some good answers to the question. My question? It was a two part-er, so I had even more to ponder. "If you could run an ultra with anyone, who would it be?" was the first part. So many choices here. To me, running with someone is the perfect time to get to know someone, to learn all about them. Who would it be? There were a few thoughts in the first loops - from the pioneer women (inspired by the 10,000 Maniacs song Gold Rush Brides - Who were the homestead wives? Who were the Gold Rush Brides? Does anybody know? Do their works survive their yellow fever lives in the pages they wrote? The land was free, yet it cost their lives.) Somehow, I had that song in my head for an entire Blue loop and that was before I got my music going! And then there was my own Great-Grandmother who fled Russia during the Bolshevik Revolution. There is unspoken history there that not even my mother knows. Finally, I decided on Sir Ernest Shackleton, Captain of the polar exploration vessel the Endurance. He led his men on a doomed Antarctic expedition and managed to bring them all home alive. I have been fascinated by that journey since I was a child. We wore out the book Endurance to the point the pages were falling out! Even my blog title pay homage to Shackleton. Which leads me to the second part of my question "What would you hope to learn?" For that answer, you'll have to tune into the podcast! I'll post a link when it's up.
Crew is Key
For my other races of this nature - 24 Hour Mountain Bike National Championships, my crew has been the one man army that is my husband. He's earned the nickname Pit Boss in some circles for his management of the pit and for keeping me going under all conditions. But for this race, I wanted something different. Kelly and Christy are both ultra runners and Kelly runs an aid station at a 100 mile race back in NC. I used to work with both of them and they are fantastic women. Sure enough, I had my crew. As I've mentioned before, when Nick learned how long I was running, he insisted we do it right. I'm happy we did - having the full pit made it much easier for everyone. It was a short wait for some of the loops but into the overnight hours the waits got longer and longer. And it got colder and colder. The tent was always a welcome haven of warmth after the chill of the laps. I did linger a little more then I should have a few times, but Christy and Kelly kept me moving. It was a mostly smooth running operation of three, with Nick handling some of the light and other logistics and Kelly and Christy managing food, fluid and other important parts. Having three people helping also meant they could rotate and sleep over night. I was overly detailed in the wrong areas of my plan, but they still worked through the information to the basics. Eat, drink, stay warm. Stay moving, stay smiling. It's true that picking the right crew is just as important as the training and I had a fantastic trio staying up and helping the entire time. There is no way I could have reached either of my goals as easily as I did without having the pit, doing it right and having my crew helping. Hopefully, I never got cranky ultra runner on them. I know there were a few times where Nick wanted to conk me on the head with a water bottle, but I wasn't wearing a helmet this time so....
Alone in the Dark
As sun set and the temperature dropped, the park grew quiet. The 6 hour racers had long since vacated and the 15 hour racers were getting close to starting the Golden Loop. The city noises had also died down, leaving us 30 hour runners alone in the dark with our thoughts, the sounds of woods and eyes watching us. So many eyes watching us. At first, I was listening to a book to keep my mind occupied and silence the lingering doubts. But when my phone battery reached a critical low, time to switch to my iPod for some music. Nick gave the warning many times - remember where you are. The animals are out there. Music was the right choice. I'm sure any animal watching me was terrified by my horrible attempts at singing along while power hiking and shuffling. But the noise made me feel better.
In all honestly, the night was amazing. Yes, it was cold. I'd put my heavy hat on during one of my breaks to stay warm and forgot to change it when I left the tent. In hindsight, that was a lucky mistake - I would have been suffering had I not had the warm hat on. And in the dark, no one can really see how silly you look with all the layers! I was trying to avoid multiple layers, but with the cold, they were needed. Warm tights, my warm over-skirt to keep my core a little warmer. Heavy wool shirt with high collar. For the first few night laps, I was wearing my wool hybrid jacket with some extra insulation on the core and my Gore Shakedry. But the temperature kept dropping and it was soon clear that I would need more clothes. I'd made a joke earlier in the year that I wasn't scared of the cold - I had a puffy and I wasn't afraid to wear it! Well, it was so cold that my next layering option was the Nano Puff with a burly hooded wind coat. I had the hood on for most of those laps! And I even needed to break out my "heavy" gloves. I didn't even wear the heavy gloves during the Rescue Run's 3* weather!
But the cold brought another sight - that of frost covering the ground, the trees and the trail. Tiny diamonds glittering under my headlamp, turning the night into a sparkling, frozen world. Everything was touched with frost and ice. If you looked up, the stars were brighter then I've seen in town, the clouds of the day clearing to reveal Orion and Sirius in all their glory. These are the things you don't see if you don't challenge yourself. The world only reveals itself to those willing to test themselves, to face the adversity of a chilling, February night. Yes, I was alone - but there were other headlights around, tracking their own stories on the course. And at the end of every loop - the sight of home. The fire of the aid station roaring and the muffled sounds of the volunteers.
The anthology will complete with Part 2...
In the beginning.
It’s never the pre-race email you want to get. A windstorm wreaking havoc on the venue, destroying a days work meant to keep the runners and the volunteers comfortable and happy. Yet that’s what happened Saturday morning. I live so close to the park, I was surprised to hear it - there was no wind at home when I woke up. But when I drove in, the gusts pummeled my car, pushing me across the road. And still, when I arrived, the only outward signs of the predawn chaos were the missing archway and the shattered U-haul window. Everything else was running smoothly - from getting parked to picking up my number. A quick pre-race briefing - very quick, after all there had plenty of information provided in the dissertation of a runners manual and pre-race emails. And then we were off into the darkness. A mellow start as we streamed off the road onto the trail, the headlamps of 60 runners piercing the darkness. The wind was still gusting, teasing at our clothes and hats. But there was a stillness in the trees and the sun was starting to break the darkness. Despite all the chaos, it was going to be a beautiful day. Do not worry about what you can not control - like the wind. That is the overarching moral of ultra running and something that I'm still learning.
 |
| It's a little fuzzy, but the sunrise, the lights of the city and the headlamps of the runners all melded into the perfect moment. |
There were four main loops in play for Stories. The short Red loop clocked in at 2.65 miles, with a minimum of climbing. Nice and easy, almost entirely in the sun and a short little jaunt before returning to the Aid Station. Green was next. A little longer at 3.63 miles, with some more climbing and the first introduction to both the ice and the mud. Everyone used Red and Green, so those two loops were always busy. Then came Blue. Blue was even longer at 6.09 miles, and the loneliest loop of the race. Once you left the main trail, you were all alone with your thoughts, the wind and the animals. And the mud. More on that later. To me, Blue was the hardest to motivate for because it felt so alone, especially at night. Finally of the main loops was Purple, or as some people called it the "Purple People Eater." This was the longest at 7.24, the most technical running and the most treacherous conditions at all temperatures. Despite the length, Purple was also the most social loop so it was my favorite loop. You doubled back on the course, climbed with all the other loops and got to see people for nearly the entire time. And finally, if you got to that point, there was the Golden Loop. A short, almost flat .67 mile loop around the campsite only used during the last hour of each race. Just long enough to get some more miles completed if you wanted, but no so long that you risked not having the lap count. I didn't get a lap on Gold. By the time I reached the point where I would be able to, I was done. But when the other races were on the Gold loop, it was fun crossing paths and cheering them on. While there were some times I didn't want to head out again, the fact that it was something different each time kept me going.
About halfway through my first green loop, I realized something - as a PT I should have noticed it much much sooner. While the colors seemed in random order, they were actually perfectly aligned with theraband.... From easiest to hardest.
 |
| There were many ways people kept track of the loop they were on. I opted for layering ribbons on my braids. Here I was about to start my 4th green loop Photo - Kelly Knott |
 |
| Tying another ribbon on my braid to keep track of my loops Photo - Lynne Day |
Of Ice and Mud
I know CMSP. I know the kind of mud that develops there when some of the trails are wet. It's a soul sucking mud that reaches up and tries to grab your foot. There's no traction, just the feeling of mud giving way with each step. But before the mud came the ice. I honestly ran the first complete circuit faster then I had originally planned. I was feeling good, I had great company on Purple and I knew based on marking blue that things would deteriorate once the sun began warming the ground. There was ice coating the backside of Sundance on Blue and the Blackmere climb that Green, Blue and Purple used. On that first circuit, it was delicately dancing over the ice, happy for a few rocks scattered here and there to keep traction. By the time I'd hit Green for the second time, the ice was getting slick with melt and the water was soaking into the dirt. Signs of things to come as I picked my way through the mud. And then came Blue. I was hoping that with the clouds, I would have a chance of getting off the second Blue before it started getting really bad. I have never been so happy to see packed snow as I was on that second Blue lap! But at least the ice on Blackmere wasn't as bad! It was covered in mud! Another runner and I joked about that on that climb, that we were both so happy to see the ice since it meant there was a break from the mud. The worst was yet to come... Purple. I had to climb up Blackmere's pit of despair, cross Cougars Shadow and then descend the south side of Blackmere. They say mud is good for the skin. It wasn't good for moral, that's for sure! I brought four pairs of shoes with me, one as an emergency pair. I had to use that pair later in the race as to not get my newer shoes for the last miles covered in mud! Every person I saw once I dropped of Blackmere was asking about the mud. It became the intro question after what loop are you on? How's the mud fairing? Is it firming up at all? Mud as the primary topic of conversation. Runners on the last stretch into the campsite, legs covered in mud, looking dazed after slipping and sliding through the mud, carrying an extra 10 pounds on their shoes. Little did we know.... We were all so happy to have the mud freeze that we didn't realize the ankle biting ridges of foot prints would be almost as treacherous as the mud to maneuver in the later hours of the race. I was looking forward to finally being able to run down Blackmere on my overnight loops, only to discover that the running on the frozen mud was almost as bad as running in the mud. With tired legs, the delicate balance to maintain smooth momentum over the mud was a challenge. It soon became evident that I needed to walk on those sections.
 |
| Working my way through the mud on the Blackmere Climb Photo Jamie Reichler |
Everyone had a question on the back of their bib. Something to ponder over the course of the the race. The questions ran the gamut of the existential to reality, but forced us all to think of something deeper then just running. Ideally, John would record each runner answering their question after the 50k mark in the race - ensuring plenty of time to really dig deep and think about it. I built some time into the plan, but ended up not going in right at 50k. It was too early to stop at that point. I wanted to keep running and make the stop count - when I would need to add a few layers for the night and start getting ready for the dark. So I went in just before 50 miles, with some soup to eat while we were chatting and hopefully some good answers to the question. My question? It was a two part-er, so I had even more to ponder. "If you could run an ultra with anyone, who would it be?" was the first part. So many choices here. To me, running with someone is the perfect time to get to know someone, to learn all about them. Who would it be? There were a few thoughts in the first loops - from the pioneer women (inspired by the 10,000 Maniacs song Gold Rush Brides - Who were the homestead wives? Who were the Gold Rush Brides? Does anybody know? Do their works survive their yellow fever lives in the pages they wrote? The land was free, yet it cost their lives.) Somehow, I had that song in my head for an entire Blue loop and that was before I got my music going! And then there was my own Great-Grandmother who fled Russia during the Bolshevik Revolution. There is unspoken history there that not even my mother knows. Finally, I decided on Sir Ernest Shackleton, Captain of the polar exploration vessel the Endurance. He led his men on a doomed Antarctic expedition and managed to bring them all home alive. I have been fascinated by that journey since I was a child. We wore out the book Endurance to the point the pages were falling out! Even my blog title pay homage to Shackleton. Which leads me to the second part of my question "What would you hope to learn?" For that answer, you'll have to tune into the podcast! I'll post a link when it's up.
 |
| Getting ready to go record my Bib Story. Still smiling at 50 miles, just like I wanted to be! Photo - Lynne Day |
For my other races of this nature - 24 Hour Mountain Bike National Championships, my crew has been the one man army that is my husband. He's earned the nickname Pit Boss in some circles for his management of the pit and for keeping me going under all conditions. But for this race, I wanted something different. Kelly and Christy are both ultra runners and Kelly runs an aid station at a 100 mile race back in NC. I used to work with both of them and they are fantastic women. Sure enough, I had my crew. As I've mentioned before, when Nick learned how long I was running, he insisted we do it right. I'm happy we did - having the full pit made it much easier for everyone. It was a short wait for some of the loops but into the overnight hours the waits got longer and longer. And it got colder and colder. The tent was always a welcome haven of warmth after the chill of the laps. I did linger a little more then I should have a few times, but Christy and Kelly kept me moving. It was a mostly smooth running operation of three, with Nick handling some of the light and other logistics and Kelly and Christy managing food, fluid and other important parts. Having three people helping also meant they could rotate and sleep over night. I was overly detailed in the wrong areas of my plan, but they still worked through the information to the basics. Eat, drink, stay warm. Stay moving, stay smiling. It's true that picking the right crew is just as important as the training and I had a fantastic trio staying up and helping the entire time. There is no way I could have reached either of my goals as easily as I did without having the pit, doing it right and having my crew helping. Hopefully, I never got cranky ultra runner on them. I know there were a few times where Nick wanted to conk me on the head with a water bottle, but I wasn't wearing a helmet this time so....
 |
| Who knew that putting wool compression socks on would be just as hard as putting TED hose on? Photo - Kelly Knott |
Alone in the Dark
As sun set and the temperature dropped, the park grew quiet. The 6 hour racers had long since vacated and the 15 hour racers were getting close to starting the Golden Loop. The city noises had also died down, leaving us 30 hour runners alone in the dark with our thoughts, the sounds of woods and eyes watching us. So many eyes watching us. At first, I was listening to a book to keep my mind occupied and silence the lingering doubts. But when my phone battery reached a critical low, time to switch to my iPod for some music. Nick gave the warning many times - remember where you are. The animals are out there. Music was the right choice. I'm sure any animal watching me was terrified by my horrible attempts at singing along while power hiking and shuffling. But the noise made me feel better.
In all honestly, the night was amazing. Yes, it was cold. I'd put my heavy hat on during one of my breaks to stay warm and forgot to change it when I left the tent. In hindsight, that was a lucky mistake - I would have been suffering had I not had the warm hat on. And in the dark, no one can really see how silly you look with all the layers! I was trying to avoid multiple layers, but with the cold, they were needed. Warm tights, my warm over-skirt to keep my core a little warmer. Heavy wool shirt with high collar. For the first few night laps, I was wearing my wool hybrid jacket with some extra insulation on the core and my Gore Shakedry. But the temperature kept dropping and it was soon clear that I would need more clothes. I'd made a joke earlier in the year that I wasn't scared of the cold - I had a puffy and I wasn't afraid to wear it! Well, it was so cold that my next layering option was the Nano Puff with a burly hooded wind coat. I had the hood on for most of those laps! And I even needed to break out my "heavy" gloves. I didn't even wear the heavy gloves during the Rescue Run's 3* weather!
But the cold brought another sight - that of frost covering the ground, the trees and the trail. Tiny diamonds glittering under my headlamp, turning the night into a sparkling, frozen world. Everything was touched with frost and ice. If you looked up, the stars were brighter then I've seen in town, the clouds of the day clearing to reveal Orion and Sirius in all their glory. These are the things you don't see if you don't challenge yourself. The world only reveals itself to those willing to test themselves, to face the adversity of a chilling, February night. Yes, I was alone - but there were other headlights around, tracking their own stories on the course. And at the end of every loop - the sight of home. The fire of the aid station roaring and the muffled sounds of the volunteers.
 |
| Some of the watchers in the woods... |
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