(long one, sorry)
I ran the Frosty Foot 50K in the Smokies again this year. Had hopes of a PR with better weather and better knowledge of ultra running. But I've been struggling with PF for a month and the weather was actually forecast to be worse (didn't know it was possible) so by race morning I just wanted to finish.
The best change was that instead of driving all the way out solo, we booked a cabin nearby (by the Smoky Mtn Railway) and made a weekend out of it. And DH has been running for the last few months and decided to run the 8K.
It was dry and chilly (30) on race morning. Got there about an hour early and between bib pickup and nervous portajohn visits it flew by. The organizer said some meaningful words (he's wonderful) and a Cherokee elder told us a bit about the area. And we were off.
The race has nearly 4000 feet of elevation gain with a serving right at the start. I felt great and kept a nice, steady pace of ~10 - 13 min miles for the first half. Rolled into the first big aid station at 15 miles at just under 3 hours and thought I might PR after all. Last year I spent a ton of time at that station changing shoes in the rain. This year still dry and my sock/shoe/blister bandage strategy was much better. I just needed to refuel and fill up the bottles in my hydration vest and stash my gloves in the pack. Spent less than 10 minutes there.
A couple miles before that stop an older runner asked me to help grab something out of his pack and my PT caught up to me. (I knew she was running too.) We continued on the trail with the other runner enjoying the company without chatting much and commenting on the perfect lines he picked through the tricky single track when he led. It started raining at mile 17, temps dropped back down to 40 and that was our weather for the rest of the race, alternating between raining and pouring.
At some point Miriam and I pulled away from him and soon after I let her go to walk off an ankle twist. But at mile 22 I realized my body temp was too low and I couldn't wait until aid at 25 to fix it. Worked through how I felt and what I was wearing and decided the nice, warm gloves in the pack would do the trick. And they did. A lot of people dropped at 25 and I was grateful to not be one of them. Also at this point Joel caught up and I was happy for company too. We splashed on...puddles were abundant and the steep downs had rainy gullies we could no longer run.
Around 1 pm my stomach begged for more than gels and run waffles and I was super grateful to get to 25 shortly after. I filled up on manna (warm veg soup, TJs pretzel thins and avocado rolled in tortilla) and refilled my bottles. Grabbed another waffle to go and turned down the shot of Fireball I was offered. (Some day I'll be confident enough to say yes.) Joel said that if he ran the last 6 miles briskly he'd PR. At which point a volunteer said the same thing they told me here last year: more like 8-9 miles to go. Last year I didn't know that was wrong until we saw the water stop @ 28 and my hopes came back up. This year I knew and told Joel I thought they were mistaken - 6 left.
So I said "let's go" and we picked up the pace...to a screaming 13-15 min mile run.
I didn't really think about it but having 2 sets of inserts in my shoes (extra for PF) added weight with all the water. I kind of got the idea we were slow when a woman hiked past us going up a steep hill...and didn't look like she was power walking all that hard. But no matter. Joel and I chatted and kept on going. We helped each other past the one spot that required the BTM (butt transfer maneuver) where a widowmaker forced a course workaround. And made jokes about the repetitiveness of the coves with the people we passed. The water jugs @ 28 again gave confidence and then I saw a forest marker indicating 1.5 miles to the trailhead and we were very heartened. Almost lost my shoe a few times in the deeper mud a few times but didn't.
I did not PR. In fact I ran it 17 minutes slower than last year. But had the best time. Joel had a 25 min PR and not only won his age division but at 73 was the oldest runner on the course and beat half the field. Heck yeah. During our run he told me about all the ultras he ran last year, encouraged me to give them a try and we hugged at the finish and hoped to see each other at another race. And DH, DD and DDog were at the finish. Amazing.
I was soooo cold at the end I couldn't use my hands. A fabulous bakery two hours from the race (owned by Miriam's husband, an accomplished ultra runner) brings their mobile wood burning pizza oven so hot slices were waiting. And we're talking goat cheese pesto, fancy pepperoni, totally fancy pizza in the cold, wet woods. Some of you may have seen on FB that Eddie Woofer was so tempted that he swiped a slice. eep! I was mortified but they were really nice about it. (It just didn't occur to DH to stand further away with the leash but now it will.) I don't know how I drove home after that last year, but needless to say I was super thankful for the dry change in the car and short ride to the cabin.
I doubt I'll run FF 50K again next year. Last year it was 2 days before I stopped seeing the forest and Lake Fontana every time I closed me eyes. (heaven) This year all I see is mud. I'd love to run an easier 50K and eventually work up to a 50 miler. But for now I'll work on healing the PF.
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