How to earn $100 the Hard Way

Preface:  Before I go any further, I should tell you to check out my  friend Allie's race report.  It's awesome and tells a lot more of the specifics about the race, the course and our quest to beat the time limits.  


I actually can't remember the moment I decided to attempt the Georgia Jewel 50 mile trail race.  It likely was after a beer or two..but truth is...when it comes to friends mentioning adventures, races, or parties... I'm easy.  And Georgia Jewel seemed like it would be all three--adventure, race and a party.  So when my friend Allison mentioned she might be doing it I signed up in a hot second without one consideration of well...anything.  

Because when it comes to signing up for 50 mile trail races there are a few things i might have wanted to consider:

1.  I MIGHT have wanted to consider that if you run a race in September, you TRAIN for the race in June,  July and August.
2.  I MIGHT have wanted to consider looking at a map.  Of the course. Or of Georgia.  Where I would have seen ALL THE HILLS...because somehow my logic of "hmm..if I am ever going to attempt a 50 mile race on trails I should do it in Georgia because I think that state's pretty flat" did not prove to go as I predicted.
3.  I MIGHT have wanted to consider the outcome of the only other trail ultra marathon I've ever run when I BARELY made the cutoff for the 31 miles of that course to finish it and was trying to get my knee to work for  most of the race and was saying all the curse words.  Or just the same curse word over and over.

But of course, I just did what I do..signed up.  And didn't think about it.

I mean, I thought about it.  I thought about it later...when it was July and hell hot and humid on the trails and I was slogging my way along reconsidering every decision I ever made about anything in this world.  I thought about it later when I actually looked at the race course and heard people talk about it being a "challenging course."  I thought about it later when my knee and calf were taking turns hating me for signing them up for anything.

I thought about it after the gagillionth trail tumble in training.

The training: Or how I spent my summer vacation

Allie and I would work our way through summer, training for this race and second guessing our decision.  Other friends had also signed up, some for the 50, others for the 35 and 18 miler, but the demands of real life and training meant we lost several along the way (this makes it sound like they died...it actually means they dropped the race).  Others stayed in but they are faster than me so it meant it was Allie and me doing many of our long training runs together.   

The training probably deserves its own blog because training for a race with someone bonds you in a way that is indescribable.  After you  have asked someone to smell you and tell you how bad you smell, or after you watch them puke up the pickles you just offered them or after they wait for you to get up from where you sat down in the middle of the trail unwilling to move you are trail sisters for life.

IM Not Freaking Out (I’m totally Freaking Out)

If you have followed me through other race blogs you know I tend to "race panic."  Just awhile before the race I start to overread/overstudy/overanalyze/overfreak about everything to do with the race.  Did I mention I'm also an audible processor (I know, big surprise given the brevity of my my posts😉) so I'm sorry to anyone who had to listen to me do all this ahead of time.  I really tried to NOT do this with the Jewel. And I seemed to manage myself pretty well..until I wasn't.  That moment came when a few weeks before the race Allie told me she was dropping and was not running the race.  I should probably mention that she had decided this after one of those hellhotpukeruns, but I was already trying to picture how I was getting through 50 solo.  I was crazy glad a week later when she messaged me to say she was back in.

Pre-Race and Mind Games

$100.
That was my race fee for the Georgia Jewel.  I know this because shortly before running this 50 MILE TRAIL RACE I knew I had to come up with some strategy out on that course to count down the miles.  I decided that for every mile I ran, I could earn back $2 and my goal was to get all my $100 back.   I didn't know at the time what it would take to earn those dollars.The day before the race was a fun chance to get to drive down with Allie and Andrea, who was running the 35 miler.  Lunch at Mountain Goat

Im still thinking about that coffee I had at Mountain Goat.  Delicious.

packet pickup, pre race dinner and last minute trip to get nutrition (because you should always buy new nutrition items the night before the race😏).   I got to my hotel room, laid out all  the things (it's hella lotta stuff to run 50 miles), and turned on the tv.  To Hunger Games.  And thought about all the things that could go wrong the next day (knee blows up, stomach blows up, snakes bite us, snakes and yellow jackets bite us, I got lost because i'm delusional after the snake and yellow jacket bites, I get lost because I have no sense of direction anyway).  Watching Hunger Games and thinking of all the things that can go wrong is DEFINITELY a great idea to do the night before the race.

Ready, Not Set, Go

Some of our NRC running crew pre-race.  I love these people.

4 a.m. wake up call, drive to the start of the course, load  buses for a 45 min trek to the start of the race where we planned on getting a bathroom stop before the race started.  Except...it didn't work that way at all.  Two bathrooms for runners meant a very long line and before I even thought about it they were yelling for the 50 milers to line up and go.  So I did.  I just started running.  When people train together they usually have a pre -race discussion where they work out what their race day plan is.  I knew Allie was going to start with me but she would run her race, so that might mean she would have to leave me behind along the course and I was prepared for it.  Just not at mile .002.   So I started running to hopefully catch her if she was at the front of the pack and yelling her name randomly (you can imagine that picture I'm sure..me running along just randomly yelling ALLIE out into the air).  But it worked.  She heard me.  She found me.  And there we were..running along..the start of 50 miles.  

Earning those $$$s.

First $40 (20 miles): 

 Fast blur.  First 15 miles were the most runnable trail course I've ever been on. Temps were great.  An aid station with a hummus tortillas, plain potatoes covered in salt.   Life was Sooo Good.

I totally fell in this water one second after this picture.

$50 (20-25)

Life became not so good. At all.  Of the entire race, these five miles would be the hardest for me.  Alllie hit her happy place.  The course was downhill.  Technical (full of rocks and roots). Allie was flying.  Me?  I was just cussing.  I knew my knee was going to give me a hard time.  I knew it from my previous 50k and I knew it from training.  I had been running "left footed" to save my right knee, trying to lead with my left foot through the course.  It didn't occur to me that if I did that I could WRECK my left knee.  My wheels started to fall off.  I suddenly knew I was going to have a very long day and night out there.  I had told Allie and everyone before the race that I just wanted to finish by the midnight cutoff and they had all laughed at me, saying they were sure we would be done by then.  In fact, when I said it, Allie looked at me and said "I sure HOPE we aren't out there at midnight!"  (I think this is called foreshadowing in some novels).  I knew I had a lot of hiking in front of me and that I wouldn't be running the rest of that race.  Even worse?  I knew it was time to say goodbye to Allie.  I told her she would need to leave me and go run her race and she told me she might see me at the next aid station.  She was off to run and I was picking my way through the downhills (way worse for me than climbs at that point).  I started to move through many of them backwards to keep the weight off my knee--imagine me out there in the middle of my pity party going down rocky hills backwards saying the same cuss word over and over.  That should give you a pretty good visual of that moment.  I actually did make myself change that cuss word for the word "grit" and over and over,  as my knee was killing me, I just kept saying "grit, grit, grit” and willing myself forward.

See these stairs?  My knee hates them.  A lot.

The good news and the super sucky news$70 (25-35) 

Guess what?  My knee rallied. 

 If you ask me what made it feel better I think I'll give credit to Allie's husband Michael for bringing a slushy cold coke to the next aid station.  You may think a cold slushy coke would have nothing to do with making a knee feel better but then you probably haven't had a cold slushy coke after running 32 miles in summer heat with a stupid knee.  If you had, you would know cold slushy coke makes all kinds of things better.

Well, not ALL kinds of things...

Poor Allie from miles 25-35 suffered like no one I've ever seen suffer on a course before.  It was  hot, her stomach started acting up and in just one flash of a second, she was puking...and puking...and puking.  And when you start puking in the middle of a 50 miler and you have been losing fluids...it's very difficult to get any liquid back in.  Two miles before the 38 mile aid station Allie told me she was going to DNF (not finsh) at the next aid station and that I should go on.  There was no way I was leaving her on that course--I was pretty scared of the dehydration situation she was in.  I told her we would just take it slowly and walk our way to the next aid station and figure something out.  I was hoping to figure out something along the way to "fix her" but really?  I couldn't imagine feeling like she was feeling and being able to do much of anything.  
I tried to think of all the positive encouraging, distracting things I could say for two miles and I think she tried to not just lie down in the middle of the course.    We got to the next aid station and she told me to go on.  And I stood there trying to figure out what to do.  We were in the middle of nowhere--I didn't know how long it would take Michael to get to her.  The aid station folks were good and were working with her and getting hold of Michael so I knew they would take care of her but ..ugh.  She assured me she was good and told me to go run.   I was kind of certain she would be connected to an IV drip soon and wished I had one there.  I said goodbye and took off in a daze, still second guessing myself.  

All that and a Bag of Chips $70-$84:  35-42  

I realized it had been awhile since I had eaten anything real as I took off out of the aid station.  I was hungry.  The aid stations before had mostly cookies and sweet stuff and I needed real food.  I was feeling great, but I was hungry so I ate what I could find.  I knew the next aid station had only water so as I left I asked a guy sitting off to the side if I could have one of his bags of Lays chips. (Later I would be incredibly grateful for that bag of chips). I didn't want to take time to find a way to stuff it in my pack so I just pinned it to my shirt front and took off (visualize me running through the woods alone with a bag of chips pinned to the front of me).  I knew I was headed into a technical section that I had been warned about called the rock garden and I wanted to get to it before dark so I took off running.  And GUESS WHAT!!! I had news that Allie was back on course running again.  THE ALLIE RALLY!!!  (you really are going to have to read her race report to completely understand that miracle).  

I was feeling amazing.   I  realized it was mile 41 and I was going to finish that race. I was alone,  the sun was starting to go down, it was gorgeous trails, it was just one of those sacred moments, ya know?   

And then it wasn't.

LONELY water.

Yes, you see those orange arrows.  I should have seen them too.  But, to be fair...there had not been orange arrows all day.  There were white flags.  The ones that were hidden by the water bottles. 😓

See this aid station?  Isn't it the saddest thing?   I stopped at the side of that table and filled up my water and took a picture so I could show how sad it was.  And then I blew out of there so I could get myself moving fast to still try to get as far as I could before dark.  I was desperately trying to get past the rock garden with light outside.  What I didn't realize at the time was that I had already been through rock garden--it just was much easier than I had expected after running Stump Jump 50k's rock garden.  I was soooo busy thinking about what a sad little aid station it was and taking a picture of it that what I really missed was the very critical little flags that the water jugs were covering up.  

My bonus $7  $84-$91  (42-45.5)

Note that I am the little black line on this map and  note the course.🙄

There I was running along, alone, in the dark, with my  head lamp, thinking about whether snakes came out in the dark, crossing a couple creeks that involved actually wading through one of them (Hmm...I didn't remember anyone saying there were more creek crossings...) and suddenly I thought, "those flags.  The little white ones.  Have I seen one of them in a while?"  Turns out, I hadn't. I was very. very. lost.  But you know what?  I wasn't really that freaked out. Turns out in the moment of being very lost, I actually just calmed myself down and tried to look at this offline map thing they had us download and when I finally figured out which little shape I was on the map.  

I slowly tried to find my way back and keep panic from setting in. It had been several hours of not eating so I was getting more and more aware of my need for food, but otherwise I was okay.  I finally got cell reception and was able to talk to Andrea who said they were all at the finish line waiting for me and I remember saying "WHY are you at the finish line??? I told you all I would be there at midnight" I think I always knew the adventure would last seventeen hours. Andrea was super sweet and I convinced her I would be okay and when I got back to the Lonely water aid station she said she thought Allie was close.  I tried calling Allie and she picked up and said "we're coming for ya! "  (she had hooked up with friends we had made earlier in the day who helped rescue her--cool part of the story she tells in her race report). For about 25 minutes I sat in the dark eating chips and waiting on Allie.

Earning all the rest of the dollars and the rest of the ALLIE RALLY$91-$107)

Y'all I wish You could have seen Allie come back from the dead.  The Allie Rally was the best comeback I think I've ever seen.  If you could have seen her sweet dehydrated face you would have kissed it. 

The rest of that race was a story of one foot in front of the other in the dark with some new friends, a story of Allie just making the decision over and over again to keep going "grit, grit, grit."  The entire time we were worried about making the cutoff and I went back and forth mentally trying to figure out when to push Allie, because she was still so dehydrated..but man...she was doing it.  It was a huge bonus to have the Indiana friends we had met earlier in the race with us at this point.  They weren't just helping Allie, they were a big encouragement to me..because at that point I was past 50 miles and was a little cranky freaking starving.

Before the race they ask you to choose a song they will play for you as you climb Mt Baker, this monster mountain/hill coming in to the finish line.   I knew Allie had chosen Beyonce's Freedom and had her tell the other girl's our favorite line of the song...Allie's theme for the day for certain:  "Hey! I'ma keep running 'cause a winner don't quit on themselves."
I thought about that line for her as she fought  her way through knowing we were bumping up against our midnight cutoff.  She sure didn't quit on herself.  She just.kept.going.
And As we neared Mt. Baker Julie, one of the rockstars we were finishing with,  played One Republic's I Lived, the song I had chosen for Mount Baker,  and with each step in the dark, trudging along with these amazing women,  tears were rolling down my cheeks.   The words said it all.  My whole day.  My whole training season.  Why I always want to do all the things.

Hope when you take that jump

You don't fear the fall
Hope when the water rises
You built a wall
Hope when the crowd screams out
They're screaming your name
Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay

Hope that you fall in love

And it hurts so bad 

The only way you can know

You gave it all you had

And I hope that you don't suffer

But take the pain

Hope when the moment comes,

You'll say, I did it all

I owned every second 

that this world could give

I saw so many places

 the things that I did

Yeah with every broken bone

I swear I lived

I Hope that you spend your days

But they all add up

And when that sun goes down

Hope you raise your cup

I wish that I could witness

All your joy and all your pain

But until my moment comes

I'll say

I did it all

I owned every second 

that this world could give

I saw so many places

 the things that I did

Yeah with every broken bone

I swear I lived

After the Finish Line

Sorry this race report is lasting  a year and a half...it was 53.5 miles or so ya know and technically this means I made my $100 and bonus.  I'll just say there was this moment after I crossed the finish line (WHERE WE JUST MADE THE CUTOFF BY 8 MINUTES) when I took myself to Waffle House (still dirty, sweaty, smelly),  that I was sitting alone on a stool, a little delirious and wolfing down hashbrowns all the way, that I laughed and the waitress looked at me and I said "I ran 53 miles today."  Because I had.  Someday when I'm old this will be one of those visual memories I will pull out to remember it happened.

 With every race report comes all the thank yous.  To the people who trained with us, cheered for us, took care of  us, made it possible to go do this dream..to push our limits to see what happened.

Band geeks are the best geeks.  So are the dads of band geeks who stay in town so the band geek can have a parent cheering him at his game and working the concession stand.

To the legendary Team Baker who makes this the biggest hearted race you will ever find.  Their sweetness and fun embody everything right about trail culture and this race shows it in every detail.   To the NRC family and for Jeff, who took care of the responsibilities at home so I could go do what I got to do--not just Saturday but for a training season (okay, a lot of training seasons).  It's a whole-family sacrifice y'all and I feel selfish every time I do it and grateful I have people who say go and cheer me on in all the ways. 
 
And to Allison. my trail life coach, my pickle juice puker, my never gonna quit on herself rockstar, I just kind of want to ask one thing...
Can we do it again????