He gave me enough time to finish... (Oil Creek 50-miler Part I)

Back in April, when I got Tom's text about checking out his website, the only reason why I did was because it was called www.oc100.org. I thought that meant it was in Orange County. As in California. I thought maybe I could volunteer to help out. Didn't even occur to me to wonder why Tom was sending me a link to something in California. Since he was in Pennsylvania and all.

But Tom was someone I totally respected and so I dragged myself off the couch and checked out the website.

Turns out, it was a race that would be held in Pennsylvania. Well, that's nice, I thought. I hope he has a lot of success with that.

But then I looked further. This wasn't just a 100-mile race. There was a 50-mile race and a 50k. Um, I can do a 50k.

I texted Tom back and said, "There's a 50k." He responded, "I've got you covered!"

Intrigued, I poked around on the site a bit further... Turns out, there was a 12-hour time limit on the 50k. Now, I've done a 40-mile race within 12 hours (with less than 5 minutes to spare!), but this particular 31-mile course was dubbed "Gnarly. Historic. Unforgiving."

I didn't think I had what it would take to complete that distance in the time allotted. A 23:11 mile is totally doable for a kick-ass walker like myself, but on that trail? I just wasn't sure.

But there was this 50-mile course... With a 31-hour time limit... If I had to do 31 miles in 12 hours... And only another 19 miles within 19 hours?? Um, that just might be something I could complete. If I was insane.

But I found myself opening my mouth. I talked to my dad about it. And he didn't tell me I was crazy or that I shouldn't do it. He seemed excited that I would be seeing Pennsylvania in the fall.

And then I talked to the Ex. Who usually takes a hunting trip around that time... And he actually said, "I can schedule my trip around this race for you..."

Huh. Why is nobody telling me there's no way I can run 50 miles in the wilderness?

And then I was also in danger of losing my job.

BUT! I have friends who live in PA. And some of them decided they wanted to do the race. I found myself with a ride to the race site and Brent promised to bring all the gear so we could either camp or sleep in the middle school gym. Which meant I really only had to come up with the airfare. And at the time, I knew I had a free ticket from SWA available to me.

So, several days later, I went ahead and registered for the race. And I was nauseous and nervous about it. I started texting Tom (how many races offer a Race Director who gives such personal attention to his runners?!?) about details I needed to give on the website... Finally, I dialed his number and got to speak to him for the first time.

This is a man who emailed and texted me through my first ultramarathon. This is a man who wrote a race report about his Mohican 100 race, I was on the edge of my seat, fighting back tears... Even though I knew how it ended (success, of course!). This is a man who yelled at me, virtually, about losing toenails or getting blisters... This is a man who inspired me to give up my beloved caffeine in preparation for my first ultramarathon... A measly little 40 miles.

So, it was quite the honor to get to talk to him on the phone for the first time.

I registered for the race (a very reasonable $70) late on April 20.

I don't think I ran, shopped, or even looked at the website for at least a week.

About a week later, I started looking at trail running shoes. I knew the Brooks Adrenaline trail shoes I'd purchased the previous summer in Colorado wouldn't last me through the season. It took me another week or so to decide upon the Brooks Cascadias. And I bought two pairs.

And sat on my ass for a couple of weeks.

I started asking everyone I knew if they knew of any trails I could train on. A colleague introduced me to El Moro Canyon, and she and I did about 5 miles with her husband and a good friend (and former coach!) of mine. And every time we ran up a hill, I found myself getting dizzy and breathless.

Um, WTF?

The next night, I met up with LT, an ultrarunner I'd met at the previous year's Big Cat End of Year Challenge (I'd taken it easy that year, walking/running a mere 32 miles). I figured he'd know where the trails were. We ran a couple of miles out in his area... And, again, I found myself getting dizzy every time we reached a summit!

As we walked and talked, it totally hit me.

My iron was low.

Crap.

Well, at least I could fix that. But I hoped I could do it without re-introducing red meat into my diet.

A couple of weeks later, LT was running in the Nanny Goat 24-hour Trail Race. I decided to really kick off my training by heading out that way with my new Cascadias and my new headlamp.

I got there in the wee hours of the morning, and ended up walking several of the 1-mile loops with a very nice man named Chris who was running/walking further than he'd ever gone before. Such an honor to get him through those miles and to get my new shoes dirty.

I stayed up that entire night, headed out to hang out with a couple of girlfriends then went to the Laguna Hills Half-Marathon expo. I would finally be running the 13.l mile course at which I'd been cheering for the previous three years.

I did everything wrong on that particular race day. But since I was considering it a training run, I didn't feel like it mattered. Brand new shoes purchased the day before, new socks, new nutrition. I ran hard and walked less than I ever had before. I set a PR on that hilly course on which I'd jumped off the paved trail and into the dirt every chance I got. It was a good way to start my training.

I'd been asking around, hoping that enough people would be willing to put in a few miles here and there with me that I wouldn't be training for a 50-mile race by myself.

Turns out the only one who was willing to go the distance with me was MV. My colleague did get out for a couple more 5-mile trail runs wit me, but MV was my rock.

She was training for the Long Beach Marathon, but was willing to put in the big miles with me. She found me some hills and mapped out these courses that somehow included far more uphill than down. We met mid-week a few times for some early morning runs. A few times we went and hit the trail. It was mostly long road miles on weekends, however.

I did quite a bit of yoga throughout the summer. Visiting E made for some major cross-training, what with the Pilates, Water Aerobics, Step, and Muscle Conditioning classes she dragged me to. (::giggle::)

I took on the San Francisco Half-Marathon and what with the getting to and from the race, I finished that day with about 18 hilly miles and a new PR under my belt.

Getting my job back six weeks before the race kind of killed my training a bit. But MV and I still managed a 50k when we walked from her house to mine starting at 3:30 one September morning.

MV spoiled me when it came to nutrition and such. I learned that eating real food during a run is actually better than trying to live off of gels and bloks and such. I got hooked on pizza about 12 miles in. (Which would come back to bite me in the ass on race day, lemme tell ya!)

But then I realized I'd actually be responsible for my own stuff. And I started haunting REI on a daily basis. Getting a bear bell. A second headlamp. And a week before the race when we heard that it was practically hurricane conditions in Western PA (LOL!), I went and bought a poncho.

And a coat. Because this SoCal girl doesn't own a coat. Or really any long-sleeved shirts. And while I was prepared to layer on race day, I didn't really have anything to wear during the days that surrounded the race.

I didn't want to check bags since I needed to sleep on the plane and not worry over my gear. So I shipped an enormous box of liquids out to Brent about 10 days before the race. And my Stick. Because someone had told me they wouldn't let me carry it on the plane. What.Ever.

Then came the freakout over drop bags. And socks. And Tylenol PM.

One week before the race, I met a friend for Indian food. I sat down and when he asked how I was doing, I answered, cheerfully, "Stressed, clumsy, scatterbrained. Normal for the week before a race!" And then proceeded to drop my spoon in my food and splattered it all over my front. Hawt.

I worked right up until the last minute. Headed to the airport for my 9:15 flight out. I managed to sleep a bit on the plane. Of course my flight attendant is a marathoner and he wanted to talk to me while I wanted to sleep.

After a rather turbulent flight, I landed safely in Newark and waited for my flight into Harrisburg, where Brent and Dave would be waiting...

Shockingly, I managed to sleep for much of that 38-minute flight.

And then I was there. And of course the boys were in jeans and tee-shirts, and there I was with my coat.

Then we would set off for what was a planned 4 1/2 hour road trip across Pennsylvania to Titusville. That's not exactly what would happen, however.