Ozark Trail

Ozark Trail 100. Push till it hurts, then push a little more.

As with most all ultra distance races, this race really began the day before. After running some errands in Kansas City, Adam Dearing and I hit the road for OT around noon. At the pre-race briefing Paul Schoenlaub discussed the challenges of the course: hills, rocks, roots, leaves, water crossings, and below freezing temps over night.  He also mentioned the level of difficulty of this particular race, making it not advisable for a first timer, which made me chuckle because really, is running a hundred miles ever advisable? He definitely had a valid point however, which I discovered along the way.

That night back in the cabin I serenaded everyone, which consisted of Adam, Shelley, Derek and Harrison, with the jingle “There may be bugs on some of you mugs, but there ain't no bugs on me.” That lasted until my Benadryl kicked in and I could no longer keep my eyes open. I wanted desperately to wait for my crew and pacer, Sarah and Aaron Norman to arrive, but I was pretty sure I was starting to embarrass myself so I went on to bed. When Aaron and Sarah arrived, I woke up long enough to tell them I secretly wanted to run a sub 24 hr race tomorrow. I remember saying “like 23:58. That would be good.” Aaron had told me once before he thought it was entirely possible, which planted the seed. He knows how I run and what my strengths and weaknesses are, so I put a lot of stock in his opinion. Heck, he was the one who told me to go beat the course record for women at FlatRock, which I’m not sure I would’ve tried for had he not said anything.

Before the start

On race morning, I woke up the same way I always do on race morning; overly excited and hyper. I’m not sure if I started repeating my usual pre-race phrase of “I’m so excited” on race morning or the evening before, but I undoubtedly wore it out. I rode to the race start with Aaron and Sarah and a slightly overwhelming fear of running out of gas. Their fuel light came on shortly after we started driving and all I could think about was the fact that we had no cell service if we ran out of gas. I didn’t feel the need to run any distance to the start line of a 103.6 mile race. Crazy, I know. My concern over the gas issue didn’t keep me from singing at the top of my lungs to every song Sarah played, and I’m fairly certain I got all the words right this time. In between my singing, Aaron and I discussed my race strategy. He told me to walk up more hills than I thought necessary and not to waste time at aid stations. I’m sure he told me a lot of other stuff too, but those two things I heard loud and clear!

We arrived at the start with plenty of time to take care of the last minute “runner issues”. Adam and I decided in the weeks leading up to the race that we would start together and run together until our pace no longer matched each other. It didn’t take us long to figure out I needed to lead, as I deflated every time he took over. Not entirely sure why that was happening, but I was glad we figured it out. We cruised through the first aid station at mile 8.2 about 5 minutes ahead of my goal time. Co -race director Stuart Johnson was there and asked what we thought of the course. I told him it was wonderful and kept moving. We ran with Joe Boler from Minnesota for about the first 9 miles, when he pulled away with another runner. He was the only other runner who ran with us for any length of time. When we hit Sutton Bluff at mile 17.5, I gave Aaron and Sarah my gloves and head lamp, refilled water, grabbed some food, and Adam and I were off again.

Sutton Bluff aid station. I was so happy!

Leaving Sutton Bluff.

Coming into the aid station at mile 34.8.

The next 5+ miles flew by. Adam and I chatted about family and friends, and the recent tragedy my sister had been through, losing her barn, 8 horses, and essentially most of her livelihood to a fire. Every time I thought about her during the race I said a silent prayer for her and her family. My left IT band started bothering me around mile 20, which was very frustrating as I’ve never had issues with my left IT band in all my years of running. Fortunately it wasn’t unbearable and I knew I had a knee strap in my drop bag at mile 43.5. At the next aid station I discovered I have a new found love for ham and cheese sandwiches made with mustard. They were amazing and everyone at the aid station knew about it. I also learned they had pickle juice at this aid station. It was almost stimulation overload! Adam and I were told we were the happiest runners they’d seen all day. I believe we were in and out of the next aid station in about 30 seconds, but I did manage to snag another one of those sandwiches. At the aid station at mile 34.8, Stu told us we may get lucky, the sun just might shine on us. Adam and I both told him we didn’t need the sun to shine, the weather was absolutely perfect! I ate an avocado, had some more pickle juice, and away we went.

Aaron asking what I wanted in my water bottles at 43.5 miles.

Minutes before discovering the magic of donuts during an ultra.

Somewhere between mile 34.8 and 43.5, my right IT band started barking at me. I knew I was really going to have a tough time choosing which knee to use my strap on. When we hit the 43.5 mile aid station I was on cloud 9. I felt good, full of energy, and was elated to see my crew and pacer! Sarah had everything from my drop bag laid out and perfectly organized; I almost hated disturbing it. This aid station had donuts. I’m pretty sure this is the point at which I scared some aid station workers. I yelled out “Oh my, you have donuts!? This is amazing!! Hey Aaron, they have donuts here!!! Can you believe it??” I went back and reported this to Sarah as well, probably wearing half the donut on my face. I was absolutely beside myself as I told as many volunteers as possible how much I loved them. The volunteers, not the donuts; that part was more than obvious. I grabbed my knee strap and put it on my left leg and off we went. Harrison was now with us as he was pacing Adam. It was good to have him along as it added new conversation to our run. He easily fell in behind us and the lighthearted jokes and stories continued as we negotiated our way quickly through the rocks and leaves.

It wasn’t long after leaving mile 43.5 that my right IT band decided it was being treated unfairly and demanded my knee strap from my left leg, so I quickly made the switch. I knew I had my CWX compression tights at mile 50.7, so I toughed it out and kept running. When we reached this aid station, I grabbed my tights and with the help of Coleen Voelks, managed to change into them without showing everyone my goods. This was perhaps the smartest move I made the entire race. For every part of my legs that previously wanted to fall apart, there was now a lovely stitching of fabric holding them together. My legs had a mini party for themselves as we got started again and ran some solid miles for the majority of the next 8 miles. The tights were the first thing that saved my race.

At mile 58.8, we were greeted by the sound of a cat’s meow over a bull horn. It terrified me a little bit. The energy at this aid station was high, as they knew Adam and were happy to see us. We chatted as we grabbed some food and headed out. We moved quickly for the next 4-5 miles as darkness was approaching. Around mile 65, I could tell we were no longer running in the same rhythm. My power walk up the hills was getting stronger, while my head lamp was not providing enough light to blast down the rocky hills. Adam would drop back when we were climbing and then be right on my heels as we were going down hills. Even though Adam told me my power walk pace was not human, I began to feel frustrated with my lack of light as I felt I was holding him back, so I started taking more chances, which resulted in a good fall. Fortunately, it was in the mud so no damage was done, but I realized I couldn’t risk that happening on the rocks. So I decided at that point that when we reached the next aid station where Aaron would begin pacing me, that Adam and I would part ways.

When we rolled into the aid station at mile 68.4, I immediately felt rejuvenated. That smile I often wear at races that makes people wonder about my mental stability was back. A volunteer laughed when he saw me and said “well, you look exactly the same as you did at Sutton Bluff (17.5).” To which I replied “thanks, so do you!” I grabbed my knuckle lights and asked Aaron if he was ready to run. I took off aimlessly towards the timber, only to be stopped by about a dozen volunteers telling me I was running the wrong way. Without stopping I turned back around and said “just kidding, we’ll go this way!” I ran back past the aid station smiling and waving as though I’d just won an award. And we were off. I was so proud of myself for running a smart race to this point as one of my biggest fears was making Aaron run approximately 36 miles at a slow shuffle. He commented on how well I was running and it gave me another boost. Actually, every time he told me I was doing well, I pushed a little harder than I otherwise would have. I told him I probably had nearly 20 more miles at our current pace. Aaron began telling me my aid station splits and what he believed I could do for a finish time. At this point I still had enough of my wits to believe him. That would soon change.

We hit the aid station at mile 75.9 and were in and out within a couple minutes. Shortly after getting back out there, we were blasting through a dry but rocky creek bed when I crashed hard. I smacked my right knee on a rock and felt white hot pain. I scrambled to my feet and kept running, knowing it was better not to acknowledge the pain. When we were coming into the aid station at mile 81.3, I had my first hallucination. I stopped short and told Aaron there was a human standing beside the trail. He shined his flashlight in the direction I was looking and I then saw it was only a tree and kept running. This aid station was the last time we would see Sarah as she was going back to the cabin to get a couple hours of sleep. Apparently making a baby requires some extra sleep. J I was very distracted because I was losing vision in my left eye due to the cold and don’t remember much about this aid station. The left side of my face is metal from an accident I had when I was a little girl and when it gets cold, my vision in that eye becomes blurry before I lose it entirely. At this point it was blurry and very frustrating to me.

As we got going again, my right knee was throbbing from my earlier fall. I could tell I was starting to favor it, in spite of my efforts to continue to run evenly on both legs. After a few miles I began to lose my wits. At one point Aaron pointed out that we were on a pretty runnable section of trail and asked if I thought I could run. I told him I was feeling low on energy and just needed a minute. He asked how long it had been since I consumed any calories. I had no answer for him. He talked me into taking a gel and within 15 seconds I took off running like my pants were on fire, so Aaron put me on a strict gel schedule every 15 minutes. I heaved and gagged with every gel I took, but this was the second thing that saved my race. I no longer had normal thoughts going through my head at this point. As we reached the top of a hill at one point I screamed “oh my gosh, do you see that??” Aaron asked what I was talking about and I said “the wild boar! He’s standing right there in the trail looking at us! I’m not running past him!” Aaron shined his flashlight where I was pointing and it turned out to be a tree branch with leaves on it. I really thought I was losing it now, but little did I know it would continue. Several miles later I thought I saw a domestic (yes, I specified domestic) upside down pig, then a horse carousel, and a puppy. After those instances, I quit freaking out every time and stopped telling Aaron when I saw things. We kept seeing a head lamp behind us and Aaron had me solidly believing it was the second place female. That was a good tactic on his part as it kept me pushing on.

When we hit the aid station at mile 90.1, my frustration with my loss of vision was exhausting me. Deb Johnson filled my bottles at this aid station and I wanted to chat with her, but I was working through too many issues at the time to hold a conversation. I headed out of the aid station by myself as Aaron was grabbing more food and we began running again when he caught up. This was when I started arguing with him. I asked Aaron what time it was and he told me 2am. I argued, saying his watch was wrong because it was much later than that. He discussed it with me for a little while then told me to just keep running, it didn’t matter. I actually thought he’d decided I was right and gave up, but found out later that wasn’t the case. By this point my left leg was full of pulled and sore muscles as a result of favoring my right leg. I could feel my right knee swelling from the fall as we ran. I was walking more and more often as we moved along. Around mile 92 Aaron asked me if I had my shirt on backwards. I looked down and flipped out. Sure enough, I did. I insisted on fixing it as I claimed it would be all I’d think about. So I did. In the process, I lost one of my knuckle lights. Aaron went back and searched but the darn thing shut off when it the ground! I decided not to fret about it and kept moving. By mile 94, I no longer had running left in my left leg. The pain was agonizing and my right knee didn’t want to bend. I was reduced to power walking, which for me is about the same pace some people run. I felt bad for Aaron knowing my walking pace meant an uncomfortable mix between walking and a shuffling run for him. 

My memory at the aid station at mile 97.1 was very vague. I think this is where Harrison gave me his head lamp as mine was dying. It was the third thing that saved my race as I’d stubbornly told Aaron repeatedly I didn’t have time for a battery change. I somewhat remember Debbie and Shelley asking me if I needed anything, but I don’t remember what I told them. Before I knew it, we were moving again. About 2 miles later that head lamp, worn by Kirk Kittell, caught up and passed us. I asked him for the time. He said it was about 3:45. I argued with him till he could no longer hear me, telling him it was much later than that. I told him later how badly I wanted to trip him as he went by but couldn’t lift my legs that high. He said if I had he would’ve been done right there. At least he had a good sense of humor about my poor joke. The last 3 miles on the trail involve 3 large hills. I hated the downhill part by this point as my left quad and right knee threatened to give out with every step, but the ups weren’t too bad. At one point we were power walking along a ledge and Aaron told me “don’t go left.” I looked to my left and saw a drop off. I thought it was the funniest thing I’d heard all day.

We finally hit the road which leads to the finish line and at this point I mentally checked out. Aaron told me I began making obvious statements like “hey Aaron, I just ran over 100 miles.” “Aaron, did you know I just ran 100 miles?” “I’m going to sub 24 hours Aaron.” “Did you know you and Sarah are some of my best friends?” “Sarah is one of my best friends. I hope she’s at the finish line.” Aaron told me later he was starting to worry about me at this point. At one point a car passed us and the driver told me “great job runner!” to which I responded “thanks, you too! I mean I know you’re not running but you’re still doing great!” I proceeded to laugh at myself for the next 5 minutes. When we finally saw the clock everything in me wanted to run to it, but I couldn’t physically get my legs to obey.

Trying to warm up my eye. 

Upon crossing the finish line with a time of 23:01, I was completely done. My legs wouldn’t work, my thumbs were stuck in my water bottles from swelling, I was shivering uncontrollably, and my vision in my left eye was completely gone. Bryan Kelpe, another runner who finished just minutes after I did, found my other knuckle light! He brought it with him to the finish and gave it back. Someone also noticed that my bottles were completely full of water, which meant I hadn’t had anything to drink since mile 97.1, even though I swore to Aaron I was drinking the entire time. Someone helped me to a cot where I sat to wait for Adam. I kept asking how he was doing and how far back he was. He arrived shortly thereafter, running, yes running, across the finish line in an impressive time of 23:30. I was so excited for him! He came and sat down beside me and I tried talking to him, but all I could do was shiver.

Accepting my award!

We made it back to the cabin around 6 am. I was so tired but my legs were twitching too much to allow me to sleep. I ached so bad I had to have help rolling over in bed, sitting up, and walking. Huge thanks to Sarah and Shelley for helping me out of my socks, shoes, and other gross clothing items! By the time awards rolled around at 2:15pm, I was walking again, but not well. Paul called me up for my first place plaque and announced my course record, then added a few words about my course record at FlatRock 50k, just 5 weeks before. I did my best to walk like a normal person, gathered my awards, and thanked Paul for an awesome race. This race will probably remain one of the biggest highlights of my running career for a very long time, if not forever. I couldn’t have had the performance I had without the volunteers, Adam running with me for the first 68 miles, Sarah crewing, and Aaron pacing me. There are so many factors that play a role in a race like this, and it truly came together for a great day!

Our buckles! (and my overall 1st female plaque)