That. Was. Brutal…. Grand Mesa Ultras 50 Mile

 Grand Mesa Ultras. Last year I jumped into the 30k for fun a few weeks after Silverheels and had a great time. This year, I decided to bump up in distance to the 50 miler and use the race as my final long effort before the Tabeguache. That was the plan anyway. But how frequently do things really go to plan? Not this time!

Watching the weather the week of the race was nerve wracking to say the least. July had been a very active monsoon month, with drench downpours and flash floods. Race kept flipping between nice and more of the same. With fingers crossed for nice, I packed (or so I thought) for more of the same. Besides, the race was at over 10,000’ - even with nice weather, it could be cold up there. Turns out my packing was a little scattered and there were plenty of things that I forgot to bring that could have been useful. We took the scenic route up - Land’s End Road to the edge of the mesa. And then we meandered around the mess for a bit, exploring. Might as well! The sun was out, it was a pretty day and there were miles of terrain we hadn’t seen. The only deadline was getting to packet pickup so I could get my number. Nick was also want to ride a little and the clouds were building fast. Mission accomplished on one - not quite on the other. Nick returned from his ride a little muddy… And then it proceeded to downpour and hail for the next few hours. 

The stars were shining brightly when I got up. Clear skies! Maybe we would luck out with with the weather… I held onto that hope, but could see the clouds streaming through the stars. Something was building. I’d decided to try something different for the Crag Crest loop this year - with the rain overnight, the first four miles of the course were going to be wet. I opted for lighter knee high wool socks for the first loop to keep my legs a little warmer as we were running through the thick and damp grass. I was also doing the double vest program. For the first 18 miles over Crag Crest I was using my Dyna 1.5, lightly packed. The hat and gloves I had were the ones I’d started with and I was wearing my lighter gore coat. Then when I finished the first loop and headed out for the Flowing Park loop I would grab my Dyna 6 with my normal assortment of emergency clothes and my heavy gore coat. I figured I wouldn’t need the emergency clothes on the first loop, but always a good idea to have them heading off into a longer stretch in the afternoon. 

Sunrise from the lower slopes of the Crag Crest trail

At the start and I could tell I wasn’t recovered. My legs felt heavy and tired and the pace the men around me were running felt faster then I wanted to be going. Which wasn’t good because that was slower then I’d run last year only three weeks after finishing a 100 miler! Oof. I really wanted to back off and let the guys around - the only issue was in those first four miles, the trail was super narrow with tall grass on either side. Not the best situation for slowing down and letting the guys around. So I kept going, waiting until the first section to be able to slide out of the way. Once I did, I was able to settle into a manageable pace. Still a little faster then I wanted, but comfortable for where I was in the moment. Across the road and into the first aid station as the first women. Got a good round of cheers from my friends, then it was onto Crag Crest. Counter-clockwise again this year, with the lower, runnable traverse first, then the climb to the crest. I’d been hoping to get to the climb up the crest before sunrise so I could get some amazing sunrise photos (yes, I was “racing…”) but wasn’t quite there. The sky cooperated with anyway with some really gorgeous views and the clouds turning a multitude of colors even down were I was in the trees. I took my time on the climb, focusing on the steady power hiking. There was a long way to go and I really didn’t need to push hard that early given how hard the running already felt. The traverse across the crest was stunning once I finally got there, with sun and clouds dancing around and the shadows playing on the landscape below me. That alone was worth the climb up there. I felt better running back down to the aid station, and then back through the meadows to the start finish, but knew it would be a long rest of the day. 

Crag Crest trail and one very excited runner!

Nick was waiting for me at the start finish - He’d stepped into the Pit Boss role even though I’d said I was fine to go unsupported for this race. He had the chair all ready, everything out for me. I just wanted some dry socks and a little nibble of food. Didn’t want to change shoes - shoes felt great, but some dry socks would be amazing heading into the next 30 miles. And they did, but that didn’t last for 30 miles. The clouds I’d been watching while traversing the Crest were building into the first round of storms. I wasn’t three miles from the start/finish and the rain started. At first, just a little drizzle, some light sprinkles here and there. Looking around me, I could tell the the 55k/30k runners were getting hammered behind me. I was lucky to be off the Crest and just getting the edge of the storm. Or so I thought at the time. Those dry socks were no longer dry though as I ran into the rain. It had gone from a few light sprinkles to full drag out the rain coat weather! Small streams were forming in the low sections of the trail and the roots and rocks of Mesa Top trail were starting to get very slick. I didn’t make up any time on the section towards Flowing Park - those miles were a struggle between the rain, the mud and the slick rocks. But there was always Flowing Park. I anticipated that I would be able to make up some time on the easier miles that were coming. 

A rain storm off in the distance over the Uncompaghre Plateau

Looking north towards Indian Point and the Land's End Observatory under the growing clouds

The sun was out when I got to the Flowing Park aid station. The trails were still soaked and I was a little chilly from the cold rain, but the sun was shining and things were looking up. I got some water, ginger ale, and a little bacon, then headed out for the lollipop loop of Flowing Park. Finally, it felt like my legs were starting to warm up and feel normal running.  Before I hit the single track, I’d taken my Gore jacket off and was enjoying the nice day. This was really runnable and I was starting to make up some time. I had to be careful running though because Flowing Park is anything but flowing. The trail is littered with volcanic rocks lurking just under the grass to trip you up. I actually did see someone limping back to the aid station with his knee torn open from tripping on a rock. I didn’t have anything to help him with though - the race first aid kit that I have is very small and not enough for two incidents. There were a few people out for fun runs that day as well - one lady passed me, making sure to tell me she wasn’t in the race. A bit later, two guys caught me. I had to laugh when I saw what they were wearing. It was warm, but not shorts and shirtless warm! It also seemed that we were in the sunshine pocket. All around, the clouds were building again, huge thunder clouds reaching into the sky. I was hearing the occasional rumble as well, making me even more nervous. There’s no cover out on the farther reaches of Flowing Park near the junction with Indian Point. And that’s were I was heading. Despite how tired I was feeling and how technical the running was, I tried to pick up the pace. I wanted to get off the exposed section of trail as quickly as I could. The clouds had gone from puffy white marshmallows to dark and threatening. It was only a matter of time. I could see the storm to the north east of me and knew that the Flowing Park aid station was getting hammered. As was everyone in that area - and it was moving in my direction. 

The coming storm....

I put my coat on before it started raining. I could tell that this storm meant business. The rain started in earnest about a mile from the junction with Indian Creek. Small hailstones mixed in with the rain, pelting me. Within minutes, the trail was a river of frigid rain and hail cascading down the middle of the track. There was no escaping the cold water soaking my feet and legs. Luckily the hail stones were still tiny, but the rain was coming down hard. Just keep moving forward. The easy running from just a few minutes before had slowed as I was splashing through six inches of rain and hail in the trail. My feet were freezing and I was starting to get generally cold. It was time. For the first time ever, I pulled out the hat and gloves that I have in my vest. I’ve carried a wool hat, wool gloves and wool socks for emergencies for nearly 7 years. And I have NEVER had to use them, until this race. And even with the hat and gloves, I was still cold. My feet were turning into blocks of ice from with rivers of rain. Dry socks would have been nice, but they wouldn't have lasted long enough to make it worth the effort. As I got closer and closer to the Flowing Park aid station, the small piles of hail began growing. Soon, the the entire trail and surrounding areas were covered in hail. I might have gotten pounded with the rain, but I'd apparently missed the center of the storm. 

Flowing Park? Flowing trails....

Rivers and hail filling the trail on the way back to Flowing Park

Returning to the Flowing Park aid station was like entering a war zone. Runners were all around, many of the them drenched and shivering. I would learn later the the 55k racers really got hit hard at the Mesa Top Trail took a direct hit from the monster. And many of them had left rain coats at the start/finish after the first storm had blown through, thinking it would be nice for the rest of the day. To my surprise, Nick was there with the van. I hadn't anticipated seeing him at all during the race and had packed my vest accordingly. But no, there he was with everything ready for me. I was a little discombobulated seeing him actually and got a little off my game. Wasted some time because of that, but one I got moving it was time to focus. I was pretty sure that I was first in the women's 50 mile race - had left the Flowing Park aid station the first time in first and had not gotten passed by anyone. Yet somehow I was listed as second returning to Flowing Park. I was hoping that it was someone who'd headed out, then turned around because of the storm. But there was no way to know, so I just had to keep moving. 

A brief moment of sun between the storms

Unfortunately, my legs had other ideas. That deep fatigue I'd noticed on several of my longish run after Bears Ears was back with a vengeance. Running was becoming a chore and I was really starting to struggle. That was not making me happy at all. This was supposed to be an "easy" long run race and here I was fighting both the weather, the cold and my legs. There was a lot more walking in the final 7 miles then I wanted, but I really didn't have a choice. I was done. And when my legs decided they were done, I didn't see the point of fighting. Pushing the effort would only prolong the recovery into time I didn't have for the Tabeguache FKT attempt. Besides, the sun was out and it was finally a nice day again! Or it was until the last mile of my race. The rain drops started hitting again as I neared Mesa Top. Large, heavy drops splattering onto the saturated ground. I finished just as the third downpour of the day started. In the end, I had kept the overall for the women's race. It was the slowest winning time every in the history of the 50 miler, but still a win! It was also one of the smallest finishing fields in the race, with only 26 finishers in the 50. The bigger question was how long would it take for recovery and would I be ready for Tabeguache?

50 Mile women's podium
1st - Me (11:28:38)
2nd - Ariel Benny (11:43:23)
3rd - Amy Markovich (11:45:17)