I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that marathon runners are no longer the craziest people I know. It's true. There are crazier people out there. And they are called adventure racers. Back in December
while Mikey and I were drinking beers in Santa costumes in the warmth of a bar several of my Perfect Stranger girls ran the
Huff 50k. Crazy. That's 30 miles. In the mud. I was happy I was in the comfort of a warm beard and company of a cold beer. Jaime and I texted back and forth all morning how crazy the girls were and how happy we were that we weren't there. So why, oh why, did I get roped into running something similar (yet much, much more tame)? It's what we runners do; we are constantly searching for the next "runner's high." We crazy.
Christi, Bri, Amy and I ran the
Planet Adventure Winter Trail Quarter Marathon last night. It consisted of a 6.55 mile loop around Eagle Creek. There was also an option to run the half and full marathon (read: 2 or 4 more laps than our 1). I have been sick for the better part of the last 2 weeks with a (self diagnosed) sinus and ear infection. This means I haven't been running much. But what's 6.5 miles? I figured I could run that mileage in my sleep and plus, I was on the mend with the help of my most favorite
nurse.
I picked up Christi and we headed down to Amy's house where Bri was there waiting for us. We quickly put on our awesomely bright matching socks and headed to the race.
As soon as we got into Bri's Libby we immediately started talking about how "cray" we were to be heading into the trails. In the dark. In the cold. We all got onto our iPhones and started blasting FB with our excitement (we each were commenting on the others' status updates while we were sitting in the same car with each other...really quite comical). We parked. We got our bibs. And we noticed people staring. I mean, a lot of these runners were here to run a freaking marathon while we were here dressed up as if it were another Mo.non themed run. Let them laugh. We had a blast!
Staying warm in the car
Walking to the start
Head lamps were required (since we'd be running well into the night). Christi & Bri rocked their new knuckle lights and I have to tell you, they were BRIGHT. I mean, if I fell behind, Bri would simply flip her hand behind her and the path was lit up. Those things are powerful!
A before shot of our clean socks and shoes...
While we were waiting for 6 o'clock to arrive we listened to the pre-race instructions. We were warned of slippery stairs and places along the route that were single file only. Yada yada yada, let's get started. And we were off. Running on pavement. No big deal. Riiight.
Within a minute we were on the trails; bobbing and weaving, leaping and lunging, laughing and moaning. To say this was difficult is a severe understatement. The hills, oh the hills! The mud. The icy stairs (and the many bridges we laughingly power walked over). And that was just the first 5 minutes. For reals. Christi soon took off (being the bad a$$ that she is) and the three of us stuck together for the remaining 6 miles.
We took in the scenery (as best we could, as trail running requires ALL your focus on your very next step) as the sun was setting over the reservoir. We got plenty of comments on our socks (reminded me of our tutus from last year's R.agnar). And within the first 2 miles I thought to myself, "How in the eff am I going to finish this?!?" My thighs were burning and my lungs were tight. Screwed. But I powered on. Sometimes taking walking breaks. Was happy to see the slippery stairs, as that meant a rester for my lungs while I slowly watched my step.
We crossed over the reservoir on a narrow gravel trail (or as Bri likes to put it, on an isthmus), with water on both sides of us. This terrain allowed us to take a mental break and take in the scenery. The serene water. The beautiful sunset. As we got to the other side, the sun was down and we looked both ahead and behind us at the trail of headlamps. Was such an amazing moment. And we all relished in it.
Two miles in and we encountered our first aid station. Trail mix anyone?
From what I remember, miles 2-4 were hilly as all get out. There was a LOT of going up and not so much going down. We then remembered we went down a good amount of stairs in the first few miles. Awesome. My legs were en fuego. Aid station #2 offered us the most amazing mini potato I've ever eaten. We fueled up while the volunteers said, "See you next time around!" To which Amy replied, "We'll be at the bar the next time around!" Which got us all to talking...we were so happy we were only doing one lap. And we all agreed we'd do this race again next year while vowing to not ever be talked into more than the quarter. Pinky swear.
Miles 4-6.5 were muddy. I'm talking peanut butter mud. Amy almost lost her shoe because the mud was so thick and unforgiving. I heard her shoe being suctioned from her foot and winced, not wanting to see her argyle sock bare. Thankfully she recovered; however, the worst was yet to come. We tried running on the outskirts of the mud only to find the bare brush contained thorns. Many, many sharp thorns (my thighs have the scratches to prove it!). There was no getting around the mud. I kept on thinking of a book I read to the girls We're Going On A Bear Hunt: "Oh no, mud! Thick, oozy mud! We can't go over it, we can't go under it...oh, no! We'll have to go through it! Squelch, squirt, squelch, squirt." And there was a lot of squelching and squirting. For miles. Uphill. And we paid money to do it.
We finally could hear the announcer's voice at the finish line through the woods and it seemed like forever until we reached him. But we did. All of us finished. Christi rocked it out with a 1:12...
While Amy, Bri and I locked arms and ran through the shute in (very frozen) smiles. I had predicted we'd finish in 1:30 and we came in just shy of that:
A quick picture of our muddied tooters
We stopped for food at the heated recovery (hello PB&J sammies, chili and hot chocolate!) and we were ready to get out of dodge
After a quick change at Amy's house we headed to the bar in our matching PS sweatshirts (jealous?)
Before drinks arrived we passed around our awesomely random finisher's medals to be signed yearbook style by our teammates
We toasted, we drank, we ate, we moaned. We shared many laughs and lots of heart to hearts. I may have even cried (I know, you're not surprised). But to think that a year ago I had one bestie and we felt so alone (yet together) with our addiction to running. That no one in our lives truly understood why we ran. And here we are, one year later, with a lot of closies (Jaim's term) that get us. I mean, Amy & Bri are running one race every month this year, while Christi ran just shy of 100 miles this month. Incredible we all found each other. So very happy, I am.
My beer cup runneth over.
