Snapshots of France: Week 1

As I'm sitting to write a post about our first week in France, I'm a bit overwhelmed about where to begin and what to include. There's been a week packed of delicious food, incredible views, challenging runs and hikes, interesting historical sites, and precious time with family. So I won't even try to mention all of the wonderful things, but here is just a taste:

When we arrived in Paris, we had already been awake for over 24 hours, but we still had to stay up and about for another half-day to beat jet-lag. We were still very excited to be there and see Mom and Dad Garris!

Paris was a whirlwind; we had scarcely been there two hours when some one asked us, "Vous etes de Paris?" "Non." We were hardly qualified to give directions! We had a wonderful lunch/dinner (what do you call the 6th meal you've eaten since you last slept?) and Nathan vowed that from now on, whenever given the option between poulet (chicken) and canard (duck), he would choose le canard because it was so good. We summitted Arc de Triomphe (spectacular views of Paris without the crowds of the Eiffel Tower), sleepwalked through many other sites and subway rides, and finally went to bed!

The next day was more relaxed, and we had a delightful lunch with Ari, a friend and roommate of mine from Duke. Ari had lived in Paris for the past year with her husband Max (congrats you two!) and so she could make a good recommendation for lunch...yummy! It was great to catch up with Ari, and we sandwiched lunch with touring the outside and inside of Notre Dame. Notre Dame was spectacular:
but there were also other little treasures to be found in the crevices of the streets of Paris, such as what I remember to be called the Eglise de Saint Severin, which we enjoyed touring more peacefully without the herds of tourists:

And, of course, we took the obligatory picture with the Eiffel Tower background:

While Paris was fun, we are not city folk, so we boarded the train to Clermont-Ferrrand in the countryside of Auvergne. France is, of course, known for its cheese around the world, and Auvergne is known for its cheese even within France. We selected no fewer than 6 types of cheese at the grocery store, 4 of which were from Auvergne, and most of which we have already polished off in meals that revolved entirely around the fromage.

Clermont lies in the valley of a chain of extinct volcanos, (puys). Thus, it is within a short drive, and sometimes even walking distance of a number of great trails. First we climbed Puy de Pariou with several classes of schoolchildren on field trips, and a couple days later we hiked up Puy de Dome, an even more popular tourist spot and home of ruins of a 2nd century Roman temple and less scenic weather station. There were several folks running up the Puy de Dome trail, which is a very steep and challenging path! One man even started back in town, running twice as long up the mountain to include what we drove to reach the parking lot. If only more folks in the states were so active and adventerous! Here we are on top of Puy de Pariou with Puy de Dome behind us:
We've also been able to visit two castles so far: Chateau Murol and Chateau Rocher. Murol has been restored in places, and several rooms are set up to demonstrate life as it once was there. It was fun to imagine!
As we entered the chateau, we were greeted by the delighted squeals of about a hundred French children. We had arrived at the chateau just as a group of chevaliers (knights) were doing a reenactment. They had fun showing off their armors and weapons and we had fun watching them and the kids' reactions.
We also enjoyed touring the little village of Charroux, selected as one of "Les Plus Beaux Villages en France." We ate in the cafe, shopped at the candlestore, mustard shop, soap store (with soap with a toy in the middle pour les enfants!) and painter's store. We even stumbled upon an adventure race that came through the village, with racers arriving on mountain bike and then scrambling around the town on foot, searching for markers. It was hard not to give them hints, but we did cheer "Allez, allez!"

We achieved our goal of running 30 miles during the week, with 2 runs up to Parc Montjuzet, which Nathan frequented when he lived here before, a run around Lac Chambond in a thunderstorm, a run uphill through the town of Royat and then up a mountain on trail (we can still feel that one in our legs) and then a run on the Tour de Puy de Dome trail here:

Does this sound like a lot of running, hiking, and walking? Indeed it is, and thus we have been able to eat like kings while we've been here. My favorite restaurant has been the Auberge de Mazayes:

A simplified version of my meal there; an aperatif (a mix of champagne and juice I believe, with very light cheese crackers/bread "to tempt the tongue," un vin rouge (red wine), cauliflower soup, pounti pruneaux (tasted like it had spinach, sausage, cheese, prunes, stuffing), canard (with potatoes, cured ham, and yummy sauce), selection of cheeses, and finally fondant aux chocolats. I'm still full. Nathan's entree (more like an appetizer in France) was my absolute favorite (melted St. Nectair cheese!)

I also had a wonderful Cherve Chaud salad at an Auberge at the base of Puy de Dome. The toast on top has olive oil, melted goat cheese, herbs, and honey.

We have lots more pictures of food, but I don't want to taunt too much.

If you're wondering why we suddenly have pictures on our blog, it's because we've been spending the week with our own photographer, Dad Garris! We're so grateful to have pictures!

Tomorrow we're off to Chamonix (and Mont Blanc) for a few days of even more fun. Thanks for reading!

-Jordan

Enoree Passage 40 Miler

Yesterday Nathan I and drove (okay, Nathan drove, I napped because it was 4 AM) to Whitmire, SC where I ran the first race in the SC Ultras on Trails Series for 2011, the Enoree Passage 40 Miler. Nathan did a 20 mile training run heading south while ~70 other runners and I ran north for 20 miles on a portion of the Palmetto Trail. This race was a first for me in that I ran with the intention of completing it as a training run, something I have shied away from doing in the past because I worried I would exert myself too in the "race" atmosphere. I wanted to cover the distance of 40 miles with preparation for Burning River in mind, and then be able to have a normal training week of at least 60 miles immediately after.

I had heard good things about the races organized by Terri Hayes, a 67 year old ultrarunner seeking to give back by putting on low key SC ultras (which she also runs) with no set entry fee. The only negative thing I had heard was that people often got lost in the races. I thought it would be ridiculous for some one to get lost in the Enoree Passage race--you just stayed on one trail for 20 miles and then turned around and came back. However, the word "trail" means different things to different people. Much of it was quite overgrown, and my legs and even my arms are covered in scratches from all the plants I ran through (no verdict on whether I contracted poison ivy yet, but it will be a miracle if I didn't). There were several points where I had to stop and look around for awhile to figure out which way the trail went--it took a lot of concentration to stay on the right path. So some folks did take wrong turns, and thus earn "bonus miles."

When it was 7:30 and time to start, Terri urged the speedy folks to line up closest to the trailhead. Nobody budged and everyone was still standing in clusters well behind the line she indicated. After waiting a few seconds for some one to move, she finally just said, "Okay, well, go!" With that, we were off on the most abruptly started race I've been in.

The beginning of the race was beautiful. The temperature was in the 50s, and the horse poop was fresh (we only had 1/2 mile of that though). I was running with a woman named Traci and really enjoyed her pace and her conversation. Nathan would make fast friends with her husband, a fellow cyclist, while waiting for me at the finish line. Unfortunately, I needed to make a potty stop so I ducked behind a tree and told Traci I'd catch up with her soon. Ha! I wouldn't see her again until the turnaround at mile 20. So I kept running on my own, waiting for a tough hill or a technical section to tell me to walk. Nothing. Hmm, running this whole thing would probably not qualify as keeping it easy. I forced myself to walk a couple hills and cruised into the 5 mile aid station having hardly walked at all.

Next we had about 1/2 mile of road with some fairly significant hills. I knew I should walk at least some of the hills, even though it would be easy to run them. Everyone around me was running everything, and I worried that I was too far up in the pack. It's not too fun to keep getting passed by people, but I resisted the temptation to pick up the pace and run with them. I spotted a man just ahead of me who was also walking some on the hills, and caught up with him. His name was Mike, and he was also training for a July 100 miler. We both were quite comfortable at the same pace, and enjoyed the company as we usually run races alone in the gap between the fast folks and the cut-off beaters. The course was so beautiful at this time, with a number of wooden bridges and boardwalks, lots of huge logs down that made challenging obstacles and some more open areas that we knew would be hot later. We hit the 10 mile aid station and set off again.

Unfortunately, I had to pee again, so I let Mike get a little ahead to take another stop. I definitely wanted to catch back up and keep running with him. When I started back running, I could see him ahead in the woods, running so fast that I thought he was a mountain biker. I tried to catch him before giving up-my legs were already starting to get sore. Since this was the second time I had lost my running buddy for this reason, I had learned my lesson: People will smoke you when you stop for the bathroom. The next three or four miles were rough because it was the hardest section of trail to navigate and I didn't have anyone with me to help me decide which way to go or call out to me if I made a wrong turn. Some one came up behind and I was so excited to have some one else to run with, but he actually just wanted to pass me. Finally I caught up with runners Wendy and Jason. They were walking in a section I wouldn't have chosen to walk, but I just wanted a social moment so I chatted with them for a few minutes before I went on ahead. After that, I felt much better as I entered the 15 mile aid station, where I think my watch read a time in the low 2:50s. I was hoping for a time around 8 hrs, and I thought that was quite reasonable since I was likely to hit the turnaround point in under 4 hours.

I felt great leaving the aid station, and I found myself running with a sort of sense of urgency, which was just silly. Maybe it was because I could feel the heat coming and this section was very open, so I wanted to get it done before the temps hit the predicted 80+ degrees (running in the heat is definitely a weak point for me). Or it may have been because I wanted to see how far I could get before I saw the lead runners coming back the other direction. Finally I calmed down, and enjoyed cheering the returning runners on. The lead female looked very strong, and I enjoyed the snippet of conversation I heard from the two men behind her trying to determine whether it was even possible to catch her. I finally guessed that I must be within 5-10 minutes of the turnaround when one of the runners headed the other direction told me I had about 1 1/2 miles. What?? I couldn't believe that the last section was the longest one. Finally I saw the aid station beside a lake, but no real clear trail to get there. I could easily run directly to it, but I didn't want to cut the course. So I started running in the opposite direction around the hill I was on. "Jordan, this way!" I heard Mike yell. Oh good, I can just run straight there.

Leaving the aid station I saw Traci coming in with two other women. She had taken a wrong turn and earned herself a bonus mile. This was even her first race past 34 miles. She didn't seem too worse the wear for it though, and I hoped she would catch me soon (she ended up finishing about 30 minutes or so behind me). My time as I left the aid station was 4:01:47. Hmmm, I could try for slightly negative splits to finish in eight hours, or I could respect the heat and keep my promise to myself to run easy. I chose the later which was a good call, because the heat made tasks such as figuring out which way the trail went and climbing over downed trees take much longer for my fuddled mind. I estimate it took me an entire minute to get over most of the trees--they were just too big around. I was surprised at how many people I was passing, especially since I had just seen how far ahead of me they were at the turnaround. Many of them had passed me or dropped me on the way out. My legs really didn't feel sore at all anymore, and my main concern was the heat. It was a nice mental advantage to be running trail I had already run before-I could check off the 15/25 mile aid station, then the big bridge, then the jeep trail....it gave me a sense of moving forward. I hadn't realized just how much of the course wasn't shaded until now, when it was probably 80 degrees and mostly sunny.

I was hot and my water bottle was empty when I hit the 30 mile aid station. I stood staring at the food for a couple minutes, trying to figure out what if anything I could possibly eat. Nothing. I had a couple swallows of gatorade and decided I would just try to eat my shot blocks on the course, which ended up being fine. The 30-35 mile section presented a new problem. My IT band, which had been a little sore for the majority of the race, was now quite angry at me, probably for running 40 miles on uneven trail without bothering to taper first. It was even to the point that I was starting to run with a bit of a limp. I realized that if it got any worse, I might need to drop at mile 35, even as pathetic as it would be to quit 5 miles from the end. But this wasn't my goal race, and hurting myself to set back training for Burning River would be just stupid. Regardless, I would definitely take some ibuprofen at the aid station. We hit the 1/2 mile road section and there was a pretty big hill up ahead that I realized I should probably walk, but I wanted to catch up to the guys ahead of me first for the company. However, once I started running up the hill, my knee suddenly felt great, and my legs still really weren't very sore so I just kept running. I cheerily entered the aid station and a volunteer asked me, "Do you need anything?" "Nope! Just water." "Okay...ibuprofen...-" "OH YEAH! Ibuprofen, please!"

Onto the final section. It had seemed so easy on the way out--oh, maybe that's because it was more downhill then and thus more uphill now. No matter, my knee still felt great and I was going to finish. I was running along cheerily, fighting through sand I didn't remember from the way out, following the orange blazes...hang on: I'm supposed to follow orange FLAGS but YELLOW blazes. Whoops, okay backtrack to the main trail.

Usually the last 5 or so miles of the race are always the worst for me in terms of walking too much, etc. It's got to be mental: When I run a 50 mile race it's 45-50 that are terrible but if some one tricked me into thinking that the race was 55 miles, 45-50 would be fine. But, amazingly, this section felt much the same as the others. And for the last 2 miles or so, I was able to run without a single walking break, even with a little kick at the end. I finished with a final time of 8:15:52, and I'm pretty sure I was 4th female.

All in all, I think the race was a great success. My legs felt pretty good last night and today (though the true test will be when I go for a run tonight) and I had a lot of fun. The temperature was really nice for sitting around, so we enjoyed hanging out for an hour eating pizza and watching friends I had finish. When we got home, we went out to Applebees for margaritas and bacon cheeseburgers...yummy yummy. The entire day was wonderful and a great way to celebrate the end of a block of medical school. I'm very excited to do the Chattooga River 50k with Nathan for our anniversary!

(What I ate: 5 packs of shot blocks, a couple ritz crackers with PB, probably a full banana broken up over the race, some PB and J, some ruffles potato chips, a rice cake, a couple pieces of salted boiled potatoes, and some gatorade)

Thanks for reading and congrats for making it through my lengthy report! I think Nathan will be writing up his run as well.

-Jordan

The Botched Long Run

The long runs of a marathon/ultra training program are fickle things. Sometimes, they’re great; conditions are ideal, the miles slip away without much effort, and one can look forward to limited muscle and joint soreness the next day. And other times, they are entered into the log-book as ‘learning experiences.’ This weekend was one such run, a 15 miler that stretched to almost 17, in unexpected high heat and humidity (a gift of the low-country). This ‘botched’ run prompted me to review and add to my list of lessons learned from past long runs.

1. Always know where you’re going. Over long distances, carrying extra food and water is not practical or even possible. Extra stuff means extra weight, so carry only what you need. To achieve this delicate balance, one must run only as far as anticipated. Getting lost means running extra mileage, which means less water and food. And when you run out, those extra miles can be miserable. That being said,

2. A bad day in the woods is better than a good day at the office. While not original, it helps to remember that as you’re plodding through the woods, swatting black flies and dodging snakes and catching the umpteenth spider web across your face, you could be at work.

3. No matter how you feel, you’ll eventually feel better. There are high and low points to every run, no matter the distance. At low points, it’s important to remember that they are temporary. As long as you keep moving, things will improve. The reverse of the statement is also true, but why dwell on the negative?

4. After you see one snake, every tree root, stick, or branch looks like another snake.

5. Do not challenge an experienced ultra-runner. At the end of a long run, no matter how spry you may feel, do not test an ultra-runner by trying to up the pace or drop them. She will hurt you. As she should.

6. If possible, allow someone else to run/ride down the trail to collect the spider webs. If you are the first one down the trail, a hat with a visor is a must. A fencing sword is even better (a stick will also do).

7. Burgers are a must-have food after a long run. Come on, you didn’t run that far for nothing! And you need the protein!

The Hat-trick

Having recently moved to Charleston, SC, finally recovering from plantar fasciitis in both feet, and revising a number of training plans for various racing goals, my 2011 racing season has begun. With little room to ride a bike between the traffic and the gutter in the low country, I’ve decided to forgo triathlons for the time being and concentrate on running. And being married to an accomplished ultra-runner helps a lot too… So for 2011 I’ve targeted a few races, the first of which was the Gate River Run 15k in Jacksonville, FL. Both Jordan and I had done this race twice before, running fairly competitive times when you consider the 15,000 starters. I’d placed in the top 10% the two previous times I’d raced (for which finishers are awarded a special hat), so my goal was to score a ‘hat-trick,’ placing top 10% for the third time in a row.

Having focused on more mileage with less intensity since rehabbing my feet, I had no idea what sort of performance I could put together. The distance wasn’t a worry, but I hadn’t run fast for this distance in over a year. Also, our recent move to the low-country has limited our hill training opportunities (though running the Ravenel Bridge is one of my favorite things about Charleston), so the Hart Bridge (locally known as ‘the Green Monster’) at mile 8 made me especially nervous.

The weather on race day was perfect: though we had to scrape ice off our windshield, the temperature and humidity were low enough to allow a fast race. My finishing time from last year allowed me to be seeded in the front most corral, right behind the pros, but my anxiety over starting out too hard pushed me to the back of the section. If my racing history was any indication, I would start out too hard, suffer in the middle, then finally calm down and gain some control over my pace for the last few miles.

After the ‘cannon’ (plagued with technical difficulties, the race director just said ‘go’), I tried to run smooth, keep control of my breathing, and not worry about the people passing me or pulling away. My split at mile 1 was 6:45, a full minute faster than I’d planned. I made a conscious decision to relax and slow down, and mile 2 was a 6:47. Not enough. Mile 3 was a 7:10; better, but my stomach was acting up and I’m sure the sounds I was making led fellow runners to believe I was about to lose my breakfast. In miles 4 to 7, I found a comfortable and consistent pace, clocking miles between 7:10 and 7:15. After that, the ‘Green Monster’ started to loom bigger, both in my mind and in the distance. My form was falling apart, and I planned to take a short walking break through the last aid station at the base of the bridge (an ultra-running trick I learned from Jordan), then again half-way up the incline. These brief pauses helped both mentally and physically, and I crossed the finish line less than minute slower than my two previous times, which was still fast enough for the prized ‘top 10% percent’ hat.

Now it remains to be seen how quickly I can recover from this effort; Jordan and I are planning to run a 50k together in late June, and if all goes well and I stay un-injured, my next goal is to better my marathon time this winter. We’ll see…

And now for something completely different

Yesterday Nathan and I each ran our third Gate River Run 15k. I grew up in awe of my parents as they trained for and ran this race when I was little, so it's always been a special one for me. For this reason, I was willing to make an exception to the typical type of race I run (~200 people on a trail). The River Run had about 15,000 finishers and is the national championship 15k--so it is by definition a big road race.

My training for this race was pretty minimal: I knew the mileage would be no issue and beyond that I just threw in a couple speed and hill workouts in the 2-3 weeks leading up to the race. I also competed in MUSC's Class of the Classes last weekend-representing the first year college of medicine by finishing towards the back of the pack in the 1 mile and 5k races. Beyond that, I was just going to wing it.

The morning of the race we woke up to ice on our windshield--on spring break in Florida! We arrived early and sat in the car shivering for awhile before jogging a mile or so. At the start, it was suddenly hot (okay, 50) but with all those people packed in the corrals I ended up tying my jacket around my waist before we even started moving. We had seeded positions based on our past times, but somehow there were still way too many people ahead of me and it took over a minute for me to cross the starting line.

Last year I went out too fast in this race and then slowed down at the end and I wanted to avoid that this year. I needn't have worried because I didn't have a choice of my own pace: I was constantly stuck behind people going far too slowly for their starting positions. As I weaved around folks, my first mile was 8:45 (10:03 including crossing the starting line). I was halfway through the race before I was able to set my own pace. I started working on chipping away at my overall pace, trying to get it down to sub 8 min overall. Since I was carrying my own water bottle, I didn't have to stop at the water stops except to slow down for the folks who were stopping in front of me. I also was able to keep well hydrated without making myself nauseous from gulping down water at the aid stations. I even ate 3 shot blocks during the race and I think this helped. I don't think I know how to race without them anymore!

For the next few miles I was so focused on keeping up my negative splits that I had forgotten about the big bridge at the end of the race until I got to mile seven. I started running up it and hit mile 8 about halfway through--this was my first mile mark reaching the sub 8 min mark for overall pace. It's not a very long hill (maybe half a mile? definitely shorter than the one in Charleston but also steeper) but it really hurt given the place it has in the race. Luckily they were blasting Marine Corps chants from the top to give us the extra boost we needed. After the top, it was a downhill of just under a mile and then .3 miles of flat to the finish. I felt like a had plenty of energy left so I passed a bunch of people in this last stretch. It was great to be able to finish a race still feeling so good.

My final chip time was 1:14:05 (just 2 seconds faster than last year) and I was 28th out of 757 in my age group. I also got a hat for being top 10% of female finishers (it was black this time). I was happy with these results but also frustrated because I still felt like I had a lot of energy left at the end and my legs haven't been sore at all since the race. My pace was probably better suited to a half-marathon. Apparently they are considering having a wave start next year which should help.

In spite of these frustrations, it was still a really fun race. The bands along the course were awesome and I got to have the experience of racing without ever really feeling bad. Nathan and I both enjoyed ourselves in Jacksonville (and got to see Aunt debi and Mimi) and are now relaxing in Clearwater with Grannie and Poppop. Nathan's race report will be up very soon!

--Jordan

Freedom Park New Year's Ultra Run

To celebrate New Year's, I spent 24 hours running the .9859 mile asphalt loop of Freedom Park in Morganton, NC as many times as I could. The simple course made things like aid and footing easy, but it also made the race mentally challenging and perhaps risky as I generally avoid running on pavement to prevent injury. Nathan, of course, was there as crew, and set up our tent just before the timing mats that runners crossed each time we completed a lap. The weather was amazingly perfect: chilly at the 8 AM start but then progressively warming all the way to the 50s and melting most of the snow during the afternoon before falling back down to the low 40s for the early hours of the new year.

Training for this race was abbreviated since I just raced a 50 miler in October but it generally went well. There were a few spots where I was more conservative that I would have liked to be due to old and new injuries sprouting up, but I quickly beat these pains into the ground with ice, advil, and a brief drop in mileage. With the blessing of an easier block in med school, I still managed to post my highest mileage week to date: 70 miles total (5 of those speedwalking, 65 running). Other than this modest increase in peak-week mileage, my training looked very similar to my training for 50 mile races.

I really had no idea of what to expect of myself in this new sort of race, so I set three tiers of goals for myself, planning to pick the most appropriate one at the halfway point of the race. As a baseline, I wanted to rack up 51 miles, simply more than I had ever run before. What I considered my most realistic/likely goal was to shoot for 75 miles, and my "reach" goal was 100 miles.

The first 20 laps went by very quickly. I ran some laps with other runners, chatting, and some laps solo. Each time I crossed the timing mat I took a minute to walk and usually eat something before resuming running. With this pattern, I averaged a little under a 10:30 pace for the first 20 laps.

After the first 20 laps, I decided I need to slow my pace down, so I started walking the steepest parts of the small hills on the backside of the course. There were 3 such hills and I walked sections of 2 of them and planned to keep this up until I had completed 40 laps. Even walking 3 times a mile, I was still averaging 11 min/mile. However, I still felt great (other than some sciatica which I muffled with some advil) and I wasn't straining so I kept up the quick pace. On my 34th lap, I caught back up with Chris, a man I had run with earlier, and I asked him whether we were still on the same number lap. He said he thought that I was actually a little ahead of him according to the leaderboard (whiteboard at the timing mats where they displayed the top ten runners) and that he thought he was on lap 33. I replied, "No, I'm on lap 40 so you're way ahead of where you think you are!" It was another couple of miles before I realized that I had mentally jumped ahead 6 laps--apparently counting is very difficult for me when running for so long.

After 35 laps, Nathan joined me for 15 laps. It was nice to have some company (I generally like to set my own pace in races rather than falling in with others which leads to a lot of time spent running alone). After 40 laps, we started walking the entirety of each of the 3 hills, but we were still running about 75% of the course. 2-3 times per lap I would need to double check with him which lap I was on--I was still having issues counting. At this point, I decided that as I was likely to slow considerably when it got dark, I wanted to get 50 miles in by sundown (about 9:30 into the race). With Nathan by my side, I reached the 50 mile mark (just under 51 laps) around 9:25 into the race, a 50 mile PR by 34 minutes. After this, we did a celebratory lap where we walked an entire lap and I ate a burger that the aid station volunteers had made for dinner.

I started out my 53rd lap alone again, but feeling awesome. I was well fed and my legs felt relatively fresh from just having walked. I maintained the run/walk plan I had held since lap 41, but when I was running, I felt like I was running about a 8:30 pace (this is probably not true, my perception of pace after that many miles isn't so great). I was also still very well hydrated--for the entirety of the race I was stopping for bathroom about twice an hour (apologies to any non-ultrarunners reading this, but we ultrarunners like to keep track of how often we pee). Since I had reached 50 miles well under 10 hours and was feeling so good, I knew I had to go for 100 miles. I was also doing pretty well overall (though I had to correct the race staff about my gender) but I made a conscious decision not to worry about how I placed and just try to get my mileage goal.

At lap 62 I stopped to change from my Asics 1150s to my Asics Gel Kahanas but this was a huge mistake. The Kahanas smushed my toes together and my already blistered digits were in agony. The shoes also felt as though they were painfully stretching my feet length-wise, reminding me of a torture device. I stumbled through that lap as quickly as I could before changing back to the 1150s, which felt wonderful. I maintained the sock change I had made however, and running on brand-new soft cushy Smartwool socks (thanks for the Christmas present, Nathan!) helped with the constant pounding on the hard pavement.

Every ultrarunner experiences periods of highs and lows in a race. Often the lows are associated with a deficit in calories, water, or electrolytes, but they don't have to be. My first low of the race came around mile 65 as Nathan tried to sleep and I stopped by the tent to grab some shot blocks. My hands were too cold to open them myself, I couldn't get them open with Nathan's pocketknife, and after 65 miles of running I had lost the dexterity to close the pocketknife. After about 5-10 minutes of fumbling around with things and cursing, Nathan came outside, helped me, and got me handwarmers. As silly as it may sound, this set me off for almost 10 miles of an emotional low point. I knew it would pass eventually, so I just kept pushing on until it did. Since this first low point was mostly emotional rather than physical, I don't think I slowed much. I finally came out of it when I ran a lap with a woman named Lana who is also from the Charleston area. I even ran hills which I had been walking (she was doing the 6 hour race which had just started so she was running more than I) to keep chatting with her. Then I found Chris again and ran another lap with him. With these social interactions, I felt worlds better.

After lap 77 and thus over 75 miles, I walked another celebratory lap with Nathan to recognize the landmark. When we finished the lap, it was just over 10 minutes until midnight but my grape-sized bladder had to go. I was scared to use the nearby porta-potties in the dark having dislocated my shoulder falling out of one last summer, so I took off for another lap to use the real bathrooms just off the course. While I could still run a 10 minute mile at this point, I couldn't run a mile and take a potty break in 10 minutes, so I was a little late to celebrate the New Year. After a kiss and a few sips of sparkling grape juice, I grabbed my ipod and took off, planning to walk another lap with Nathan after 90 miles.

These miles were pretty rough, but having the ipod helped. I was starting to tire of the food options but still doing well with nutrition. I alternated between eating shot blocks and chips or a piece of cold pizza (at this point it had been sitting out for awhile). Nathan and I walked lap 93 and then I went back to running, planning to walk lap 102 with him (mile 100), take a nap, and then go back out and walk a few easy laps for "bonus miles." When I finished lap 94, he had changed into his running clothes, and was prepared to run every other lap with me until I reached 100 miles. I was so excited that I nearly cried.

However, as we started lap 97, my weariness of the food options exploded into a huge wave of nausea. I could only walk this lap, stopping a few times to try to vomit. I felt a little better after this lap, but I still couldn't imagine eating any solid food even though I needed it to have enough energy to run. The only calories I consumed for the last 6 laps (about 2 hours) was about 10 ounces of gatorade and a cup of hot cocoa. This produced a significant calorie deficit and thus I could only manage to walk. Nathan walked with me these entire last 6 laps, which was incredibly helpful. He would hold whatever I was drinking and usually some food I had thought I might be able to eat but never managed to. I ran the last stretch of the course to finish 100 miles in something like 22:33 (I forgot to stop my watch and results aren't posted yet).

Given the events of the last few miles, I knew I was done for the race. I sipped some chicken broth as the sun came up and tried unsuccessfully to sleep some in the tent. Finally Nathan packed up and we headed for breakfast about 30 minutes before the race even ended. At that point, I was 2nd female and 4th overall and I'm pretty sure the final standings were the same (update-a number of men passed me after I finished so I ended up 6th overall). The winner ran 119 laps (~117 miles) with a foot injury before recognizing his large lead and calling it a night several hours early and the first female (2nd overall) was truly amazing-she kept the same steady pace for the whole race, hardly walking at all.

Overall, it was a great race. I certainly didn't expect to run my first 100 mile race before Burning River in July but it was a great way to get a taste of some of the challenges before adding in the extra factor of trails. But before thinking about Burning River, my next task is to recover from this race!

-Jordan

Sticks and stones...and logs and boulders

Nathan and I spent Friday night and yesterday in Pine Mountain, GA, where I ran in the 1st North Face Endurance Challenge that "Atlanta" (Pine Mountain is NOT in Atlanta) has hosted. I was very excited to escape from med school studying for a day and run the 50.7 miles of technical single track in the same race as elite ultrarunners such as Geoff Roes and Nikki Kimball. I wasn't sure what to expect in terms of my time. I had topped out my training with long runs of 33 and 36 miles but these miles were mostly flat and not on technical terrain given the limitations of training in Charleston. I was especially worried about the downhills, as I had been able to do some uphill on the treadmill but only minimal downhill. I had the impression (rightly so!) that this course would be more challenging than that of Bull Run Run, my previous 50. So I decided to not set any goals beyond finishing until I was about halfway through the race and could better gauge the situation.

Start to Country Store (5.0 miles)
At 3:15 AM yesterday, Nathan and I were up and getting ready to go catch the shuttle to the race start. At 5 AM, 124 of us were headed across the short field to the single track where we formed a long line of headlamps disappearing into the distance. I was very careful to watch my feet as I had only used a headlamp on a wide gravel trail before. Unfortunately, this meant I wasn't looking up, and I ran headfirst into one of the many trees that branched over the trail. It nearly knocked me down and gave me a headache that would be with me the rest of the day. The first aid station was only five miles in and required each runner to check in, so just as the field was starting to spread out about three miles into the race, we found ourselves waiting in stop-and-go (really run-and-walk) traffic coming into the aid station. My time was already much slower than I would have expected even given my uncertainty so I was eager to get going. I checked in, filled up my water bottle, and hurried off trying to get around some of the crowd.

Country Store to Fox Den, 6.2 miles.
I soon found myself waiting "in line" behind a group of runners. I ran with them for a couple miles before I decided that I would rather run many of the sections they deemed too technical and passed them. I caught up with a runner named Matt and chatted with him for the next few miles. Some of this section was quite technical and along a cliff which was a bit unsettling in the dark. I felt like Matt and I were flying but the time was still slow when I reached the aid station. This would be a theme for the entire day due to how technical the trails were. Matt needed to eat and slowed down just before the station so I went on alone.

Fox Den to Mollyhugger, 4.9 miles.
The first 2-3 miles were mostly downhill so I took off and feared for my quads later. I caught up to another pack and ran with them for awhile before deciding again that I wanted to walk a little less than they were and moving on. It was light outside now and I was less worried about falling and felt comfortable navigating the tricky stuff. As I approached the next aid station, I geared up for the following section which the packet promised was the hardest on the course.

Mollyhugger to Rocky Point, 7.0 miles.
Knowing that this section had a significant amount of climbing (we reached our highest elevation of 1360') I gave myself a generous estimate as to the time it would take to reach the next station. There was a good bit of climbing, but it wasn't too steep and mostly runnable. In this section and the last, I was back and forth with a woman named Christine who would run all the uphills (except when we were climbing over boulders). Christine and I were near each other for awhile and then I didn't see her again. When she finished, she immediately had medical personnel inspecting her wrist, so she must have been one of the many to take a nasty spill. 15 minutes before I expected to, I reached the Rocky Point aid station and was thrilled to have the section behind me.

Rocky Point to Tower, 4.9 miles.
This section started off very easy and I ran it fast, excited to see Nathan at the next aid station (mile 28) which the only point of crew access. Halfway through the section was a long descent down to a creek where the course was the most technical in the race. I found this section much harder than the previous as very little of it was runnable. I would estimate it took me about 40 minutes to cover 2 miles. I was also having stomach issues this section and I knew I needed to eat but everything made me nauseous. Just before the aid station, I was shocked as Nikki Kimball came up behind me. She chatted with me for a minute, asking how I was and telling me the aid station was close. Turns out she and a few of elite men had accidentally done a loop for the later part of the course first so she was really 6 miles ahead of me. The race organizers let them just run the course in a different order, so we all ended up doing about the same distance. I finally reached the aid station, much later than I had told Nathan to expect me, but he had not been worried. He said that I was only the 3rd or 4th woman to come through (I was actually 5th counting Nikki Kimball) so he wasn't worried at all. I changed out of my Salomon trail shoes which had already forced me to stop twice to band-aid hotspots, dropped off my jacket, gloves, headlamp and glasses, got more food and water, and was on my way.

Tower to Dowdell Knob, 4.2 miles.
Changing into my Asics was the best decision I made the entire race. I felt so light and I had no further blister issues. But now I had this crazy mind game going on. I had been thinking about trying to get top 10 women and I was having a hard time believing that I was currently in the top 5. I cruised along in my new light shoes and passed two women in this section. But wait, if Nathan was right, that would make me first or second. I couldn't believe that, so I just tried not to think about it and run the best race that I could, whatever that meant.

Dowdell Knob to Fox Den, 5.3 miles
It was starting to heat up in this section and I ran out of water before I reached the aid station. My stomach was still not completely happy and I knew I needed to eat more, especially more salty things than sweet, but without water my crackers dried me up and I could hardly swallow them. I'm not a runner who can guzzle water at the aid station and take off-I have to sip at it or it will make me sick. So I was thrilled when I arrived at Fox Den and they told me it was only 1.9 miles to the next stop. I could drink an entire bottle in that time and "catch up" on my hydration. As I approached the aid station, a volunteer told me that I was the second woman through (I was actually 3rd, it probably was skewed Nikki Kimball's alternate course). Now with two sources, I had to actually believe it. Suddenly, I was "racing."

Fox Den to Mollyhugger, 4.9 miles.
It was not 1.9 miles to the next station. I guzzled my water intentionally and then had to make do with less once I realized the error. A guy named Bryan came up behind me and we chatted for awhile. He had actually been winning the men's overall race when he sprained his ankle and had to walk for 10 miles. He and I ran together for a couple miles, which was good because it pushed me since he was obviously a faster runner than me. At one point we had to guess as to which way was the right way to turn with no way of knowing if we went the right way for a couple miles. I was terrified of adding 4 miles to the course but luckily we picked correctly.

Mollyhugger to Buzzard's Roost, 5.4 miles.
It was about this time that my watch passed the time I ran my previous 50 in, (9:59). A lot of what made this race so challenging was how long it took. It was very mentally tough to race for almost 12 hours, especially when I was thinking at any minute I could get passed and move out of second place (actually third place, but I got a lot of wrong information yesterday). I heard a high pitched squeal as some one tripped behind me and I knew I was about to get passed. Turned out, it was a young boy who's voice hadn't changed yet. I don't know if he was doing the 50 mile or one of the shorter races out on the course. I passed a lot of people in this section, but they were mostly people racing in the 50k or marathon.

Buzzard's Roost to Finish, 2.6 miles.
I was planning to try to run the entire section because I knew there wasn't much climbing and the last thing I wanted was to get passed a half-mile from the finish. I took off from the aid station at the fastest pace I had run all day, which was a bad idea because I could only maintain it for about 7 minutes before I had to walk. Just as almost every other section of the day, this section took much longer than I expected. Finally I could hear the finish line festival and as I came out of the woods I was told to run towards the guy in yellow which turned out to be...Nathan! As I crossed the finish line, they announced that I was the second overall female (yeah, they were still confused).

My overall time was 11:40:54--I still can't believe how hard I ran for such a slow time but that just speaks to the difficultly of the course. Nikki Kimball covered the distance in just 9:01:45 for first woman and third overall. I never saw the second place woman until the stage at the end (Kim Nosenchuk-Brooks) but she finished just 12 minutes and 2 places ahead of me. I ended up 28th overall. Dean Karnazes helped me up on the stage and asked me "tough course, huh?" I had to restrain myself from asking him if that was his fault. I won a medal, a northface jacket, and $350 (!) for finishing third. I certainly never expected I could place so high in a race so it was a great experience!

I'll post pictures (including one on the stage with Dean Karnazes, Nikki Kimball, and Kim Nosenchuk-Brooks) when they're available either here or on facebook.

-Jordan