Folsom Lake 50k: pushing past my limits. "We like to think we know things about ourselves. Those things are often what limit us" - Caolan

My first 50k. I’m not even sure where to begin. It’s been over a year and I’m just now getting around to writing about it. What does that say?? I’m still not sure how I feel about this race. It’s eerily reminiscent of Portland 2014, where I feel like I need a “do over”. Nothing went the way I planned, expected or wanted – other than the fact I finished under the cutoff and I was not DFL. I did learn that I can keep going even when I want so badly to just throw in the towel. I also learned never to believe the elevation profile listed. This 50k was only supposed to be about 2800ft of elevation gain and turned out to be over 3200ft.

The weeks leading up to the 50k were not good. I developed a sinus infection, strep throat and double ear infections. My stomach doesn't do so well with antibiotics and I was very nervous about having to take them so close to a race. Not to mention I was also missing training time. My coach assured me that I would be fine for the race even if I missed a chunk of runs this close to the race. I put my trust in her and *tried* not to freak out.

The calm before the storm :-)

We headed over the hill for the race and par for the course, it was dumping rain. Because it's always bad weather when I have go to Sacramento for races. We head to Fleet Feet and I pick up my packet. Now, it's real. I'm going to be running 31 miles around Folsom Lake. We grab a bite to eat and this is where things probably start to go wrong. I usually have pizza for dinner before most of my bigger races. We let the boy choose where to eat and he chose In-n-Out.

It really is a pretty course!

Yep, a cheeseburger the night before a 50k might not have been the wisest choice. I get to bed at a decent time and actually sleep. The next morning, I make my second mistake. My stomach is nervous so I decide to skip my usual oatmeal or toast with PB and banana. I eat a KIND bar. Not usually a problem but this was a deviation from my usual pre-race food. We leave a little later than I would like and I'm worried about getting to the start on time. Yet another thing that throws me for a loop and doesn't help my already harried nerves. As we pull up, I have less than 5 minutes to get to the start and it's a bit of a walk from the parking lot. I kiss the hubby and boy goodbye, say that I will see them in about 8 hours or so then shuffle off to the start.

I see another skirt wearer and strike up a conversation. Her name is Mimi and we decide to hang together for a bit. She's doing the 35k so I will have company for a good stretch of the race. As we head across Folsom Dam (pretty much the only flat part of the race), we chat about races. So far, so good. I can tell it's going to turn out to be a warm day. I stop to take off my top layer a few miles into the race. It's a gorgeous course but I can tell that I didn't train for lots and lots of ups and downs. I trained more on steep climbs and steep descents. That's what my legs are used to. They are not liking all the rolling hills and would rather be trucking up the side of a mountain right now. I let Mimi know that I have to pick up the pace a bit because I have a cutoff to make. The 35k folks don't have to worry about the cutoff but I do. Before I even get to mile 10, I have to stop for the bathroom. This is not a good sign. I've run marathons without having to stop. WTF.

Mimi and I in the first few miles

Mimi waits for me and we start down the trail again after I'm done. I try not to think about the 20+ miles yet to come. I glance at my Garmin and realize I really need to pick it up a little; I'm concerned because the time limit for the course is 8 hours and I know I have to maintain a certain pace. I tell Mimi I will meet her at the bottom of one of the hills. I'm also hoping there is a bathroom at the next aid station because my GI system is really unhappy. I come up to where the aid station is supposed to be but it's not directly on the trail. Nope. It's up this steep incline. Unsure of whether I want to make the trek up there, I call out to the volunteers asking if there is a bathroom. Negative. That makes my decision easy. Not stopping. It's also the turn around for Mimi so I'm not sure if I will see her again.

Gorgeous greenery

I head off into the wilderness alone. I decide I can't wait for the next aid station to see if there is a porta potty so I pull off the trail and hope I'm not traipsing through poison oak. I tried to educate myself before coming over here on what it looks like but I'm actually clueless. I have to repeat this every 2-3 miles and it's miserable. I come up to this crest on the hill and I see it's a nice downhill stretch to the turn around point in the race. I embrace the downhill and enjoy giving my legs a bit of a rest. Pick up a few snacks at the aid station, make sure I've got enough water in my pack and then turn around to head back up the hill I just came down. At this point, I'm stressing over cutoffs and I had inquired at the aid station where I was in regards to this. They said I was 17 minutes ahead of the cutoff but I'm confused because that would put the cutoff closer to 8 1/2 hours, not 8 hours. I feel the pressure of needing to move a bit faster but my stomach simply won't allow 17 min pace at this point. I try to run and have to walk; this pattern continues along with my bathroom stops.

By this time, I've run out of places for the bathroom and find myself facing Folsom Lake while all the boaters are out on the water, enjoying their day. It's hot as well, I'm sweating like a pig and my stomach is killing me. I consider quitting at each aid station I come across and then think, "I'll give it to the next aid station". And so on. I have to go somewhere else in my mind. There are tears. I think about my husband and son waiting for me at the finish line. I'm texting my coach and friend Sandra. Close to the cutoff at each aid station, all I can think about is how pissed I will be if I endured this for 8+ hours only to be told at the end that I'm not an official finisher because I didn't make the cutoff. F*ck that. I think back to the book Esther got for me, How Bad Do You Want It by Matt Fitzgerald. I try to recall passages from the book and that helps my mind move forward a bit.

Coming down into the last aid station

Lots of hills :-)

At the last aid station, with maybe 3 miles to go, I consider one last time quitting. By this time, my stomach is cramping so bad and I'm doubled over half the time. People strolling with their dogs are passing me on the trail. Humility at its finest! I see the dam and know that I have about a mile to go. I emerge from the trail and set foot on the dam. I can see the finish across the lake. So close. I get asked if there is a race somewhere and it occurs to me I'm out there, running (okay, maybe it doesn't resemble running much by this time) with a bib on while people are out with the kids, pushing strollers and walking dogs. Um, yeah...I look a little out of place. I smile and say "I think there's a race and I think I'm running it" then muster up a chuckle. By this time, I know if the cutoff is 8 hours, I have failed. But if it's 8 1/2 hours, I still have a chance. I text my husband to tell him to have a change of clothes for me and my recovery drink. I got this.

This kept me going...

Always looking at that darn Garmin!

As I hit the other end of the dam, a volunteer runs alongside me, cheering me on. While it doesn't sound fast, my last 1/2 mile was at a pace of 13:51. When you consider my overall pace was over 16 min/miles, it's pretty damn speedy....lol. My little boy meets me a few hundred yards from the finish and runs in with me. As I cross the finish, I am doubled over with exhaustion, pain and joy. I am an ultra runner. Me. The girl who couldn't run one stinking lap around the track just ran a 50k. I throw myself on the ground as hubby helps get my shoes and socks off then hands me my drink. I chug my recovery drink then realize I didn't get a medal. They ran out. Huh?? I will have to wait to get it in the mail. I inquire about the cutoff. They state it was changed a few days ago from 8 hours to 8 1/2 hours. Holy shit, I made the cut off!! It's official. And....I was NOT last. Two people finished after me! Woohoo!! I still haven't decided how I feel about that race as my trail marathon just weeks prior was a much better experience. Not all races can go the way we want. Folsom Lake 50k left me wanting more but it will have to wait until another time. I've got other big things to focus on at the moment. But someday, I'll be back for another crack at an ultra. My coach said once "we like to think we know things about ourselves. Those things are often what limit us". And never have I found this to be more true than this past year or so.

Fought harder for this finish line than any other race