Broken Toe 50K

Race recap!!!
FUN FUN FUN.

My first 50K (Run Woodstock) was so awesomely fun and amazing and my recovery post run was surprisingly quick and relatively painless. So I figured, what’s better than ONE 50K? TWO 50Ks!!
We had one weekend available in October, so I did an online search for ultras in the area, including multiple states. The goal was to find something fairly close- within a 3 hour drive- that was on our available weekend and that was located in a state in which I’ve never raced. The last qualification is not a difficult one to meet. Currently, the only states filled in on my run board are: NC, SC, IN, AK, and MI. Our weekends were completely booked except for the weekend of the 21st of October. We have swim meets on our calendar and we are currently preparing to move to Hawaii. So there’s a lot going on. I found a race in Ohio called the Broken Toe, and it fit all our criteria. It was also really small- capped at 50 runners for the 50K and 25 for the 25K. It was inexpensive ($45 I think?) and began in a random park not far from Dayton.

My training for this race consisted of running as much as possible and as far as possible and trying not to injure myself. Before I ran Woodstock I tried some new shoes and they caused something that feels suspiciously like sesamoiditis. I was concerned going into Woodstock that this would affect my run, but trails do not bother or aggravate this issue. Pavement running causes increased inflammation in my toes, but trail running doesn’t seem to bother them at all. This is really great news for my racing plans, and really terrible news for my training. In order to run unpaved trails, I have to drive, and I really don't have time to drive to a trail and also run a trail.#homeschoolmomlife. There isn’t anything in my surrounding area that is unpaved and suitable for running. There are tons of paved trails and sidewalks, navigatable shoulders, etc, but zero unpaved trails. So my training for the Broken Toe was tricky. I pushed Sam for pretty much all my pre race runs. I find that stroller running is excellent prep work for trail running, if I can’t get to an actual trail. If I can push a 75-80 lb stroller uphill and downhill for sustained distances, running up a trail without it is cake. The joints of my big toes were pretty inflamed by the time I hit taper week, and I was just hoping that the rest prior to the race would be enough to earn me a successful finish at Broken Toe, and even more optimistically, that I wouldn’t end up with stress fractures in my feet.

Going into race weekend, I felt pretty good, but my head was not in the game. We are preparing for a huge move- from Indiana to Hawaii- and quite honestly, we are heartbroken over it. We love Indiana and moving is rough on all of us.

We were all excited to explore a little bit of Ohio. We’d never been there before, except in passing through on the highway en route to Indiana. We booked a hotel room outside of Dayton and drove to Harveysburg to do recon on the park area. Once we figured out where everything was located, we went to find food. Waynesville is near Harveysburg and there is very little there- a few restaurants and lots of antique shops. The town is completely adorable. We ate at Stone House Tavern and we loved it. Very affordable and a nice range of menu choices. I had a teriyaki mushroom burger and it was Delicious. Two thumbs up. The architecture in Waynesville was delightful. During my race, my family walked around the downtown area. Great regret was expressed that we didn’t stay at the bed and breakfast there. :)

Exterior of the Stone House Tavern

Stone House Tavern: where the sandwiches are bigger than your head.

One of the stipulations we have on traveling is that the hotel in which we stay MUST have a pool. This keeps the 7 year old happy. The kids swam after dinner and then we crashed. I always have a hard time sleeping in unfamiliar places, and that combined with pre race adrenaline did not lead me to expect a full night of sleep. The night before Woodstock I got about 90 minutes of sleep, so my hopes weren’t high! I got more than I expected, so I actually felt really rested when I got up Saturday morning. Race start was at 8, the park was thirty minutes away, and I wasn’t sure what to expect, so we left at 7. We arrived at the park around 7:30. It was dark, cold, and very no frills. But the sunrise was spectacular.

I grabbed my bib and went to find a portapottie. When I got back, my husband told me, "They are drawing a line on the road for the start. With chalk."

We started the race from the park and ran down the road to the trailhead. I had a pretty good idea that this was primarily a local race, and I think that ended up being accurate.

Chalk start line. Worked out just fine.

Most of the people seemed to know each other, and quite a few seemed familiar with the trail itself. I didn't know anyone and had no concept of what to expect of the trail. I ended up behind two older dudes and a couple of women that were bffs. They set a really nice pace and seemed to know where they were going, so I just matched their pace and hung on. The folks in front of me kept up a running stream of conversation and that kept me entertained for the first 12 miles or so. One of the ladies had adopted a Maine Coone and thanks both to my 7 year old's voracious interest in non-fiction, and to our public library, I knew exactly what a Maine Coone was. I became a little intimidated because one of the women in front of me was a very experienced ultra runner. There was discussion about all the races she had run, the 50s, the 100s, the race she recently ran with a fractured foot. In retrospect, I shouldn't have felt intimidated because I was keeping up with them just fine. I lost the company at the 12 mile aid station (It may have been the 8 mile aid station. I can't recall. There weren't mile markers to indicate distance, and I wasn't checking my GPS at this point.) because the temps had risen and I took some time to take off my hydration pack and shed a layer. This was a tough trail and I saw no reason to rush or hurry. When I rush, my risk of making mistakes skyrockets, so I figured it was in my best interest to take things at an easy pace.

Aid station. I was attempting to be as colorful as possible. Lacking a flare orange hat, I went with a bright bandana instead.

After this aid station, I found myself alone for quite a while. It was kind of a relief, because I was more free to set my own pace.

The biggest issues I had with this race:
- the fear of being lost
- the terrain

The trail was not adequately marked for someone that was completely unfamiliar with it. For someone local, I'm sure it was perfectly ok. The rule of thumb was, "orange flags will always be on your right." I came upon several spots where I had to choose a right or left turn- and there were flags on both right and left sides of the trail. So. Many. Flags. At one point, I went completely off trail and didn't realize it until I ended up in a dried up lake bed and the trail had disappeared. Fortunately, I hadn't gotten too far off course, so backtracking wasn't a problem. Much later, I had to choose right fork or left fork. I had no idea- there were flags on the right side of both trails- so I just picked one and then spent the next several minutes running and questioning myself. So I just stopped and waited for someone to catch up with me. I knew there were people behind me, and I figured that maybe one of them might know which trail was correct. And if not, we'd be lost together.
The terrain was hard on me. The trail was beautiful; I stopped several times to take photos because I knew I would hate myself later if I didn't. I did not photograph the hardest parts. I was too focused on not falling down.

There were a lot of very steep ascents and descents that I found impossible to run. I had to slow down and carefully make my way. I ran where I could, but it was slow going because there was a layer of leaves covering most of the trail. There were long sections of trail that were rutted with tree roots, and sections that were covered with river rocks. I couldn't see them because they were under the leaves, so I rolled my ankles several times and banged my toes up a lot. (Race was very appropriately named.)

Equally unflattering and realistic photo. My face says,"Concentrating so hard. Must not trip and fall down."

I kept waiting for the aid station with the portapottie. The race info had said that there were two portapotties, and that we should, "Plan accordingly." When I got to the halfway point- the 16 mile aid station- I asked, "Where's the portapottie?" The answer came, "There are no portapotties." Fair enough. I guess I misunderstand the race info- they meant there were two portapotties at the PARK for pre race use. When they said, "Plan accordingly," they meant, "Bring TP."
Lesson learned. *insert thumbs up like Fonzie.*
After I left the 16 mile aid station, I started hearing gunshots more frequently. It's hunting season and the park was open to hunting while we were running. I didn't love that, but I was wearing an orange shirt and I figured that we all have to go sometime and there was a really good chance I wouldn't get shot. I passed a few people- one guy I passed twice. The second time I passed him, I was honestly confused and said, "How am I passing you again? You didn't pass me!" It seems he thought I was insinuating that he was cheating- which I wasn't- but his loud protestations awakened a suspicion that had not existed prior. I didn't assume he had cheated, I actually assumed that I had once again taken a wrong turn and gone off course.
When I reached the final aid station, around mile 23, the volunteers told me that I was currently in third place for the women. I thought they must be kidding because I felt like I was moving so slow.
After the last aid station I started checking my GPS every mile or so, because I was concerned I was going the wrong way. I realized that the race route was a series of loops and was comprised of about three different trail routes. The race organizers had planned a route that looped around and crossed and recrossed the same route several times.

Finished race route. I gave up trying to make sense of my route or direction.

Elevation like wow. 

All things considered, my splits weren't terrible. It just felt tedious and slow. 

It's taken me about a week to organize my thoughts about this race. The two 50Ks that I've run have been so altogether different. Woodstock was very blingy and flashy with fully stocked aid stations every four miles, volunteers with cow bells and enthusiastic cheering. Broken Toe was the polar opposite with minimal aid and minimal information. I don't know what's standard for ultras- or if there is a standard. They may all be different. Two races isn't enough to form an opinion on what's "normal." Broken Toe felt like a "real" ultra, in that it was hard as heck and I felt wasted at the end, physically and psychologically. I expect to feel beat down after running 31 miles. I look forward to having more basis for comparison, as to whether other ultras will be hard like Woodstock, where the primary challenge lay in actually completing the distance, or hard like Broken Toe, which was hard mentally (fear of being lost or shot) and extremely challenging physically. Broken Toe was so much harder for me than Woodstock that when I finished, I was left with a sense of what felt very akin to failure. 

Cheer squad keeping it 100. Best sight in the world was coming up the hill at the finish and seeing these guys at the top of it

I felt pretty good at the finish, with the exception of the ache in my feet. Fortunately, nobody stepped on my toes. My feet look stellar in the photo, but I'm a slow bruiser and I have a couple of toe nails that are changing color, even now. The thing that really killed were the muscles in my lower left shin. That part of my body took all the impact when I repeatedly rolled my ankle. I was so fortunate to finish without a stress fracture. Walking down stairs or down hill has been a challenge this week, but I took a solid four days of rest and that seemed to do the trick. It took me about 48 hours to completely rehydrate. I emptied my hydration pack and refilled my handheld three or four times while I was running, but by the time the race was over the temps were in the 70s and the humidity was high. Fluid loss was high. 

During the race I went through two Honey Stinger waffles and three Nuun tablets, one of which was Nuun Energy with a bit of caffeine. I finished up second for the women, and tenth overall, with a time of 7 hours, 10 minutes. The second place finish is based on my deduction, as I was in third at the final aid station, and then passed a woman between that aid station and the finish line. As far as the posted results, I appear to be in second place for the women, as long as female dogs are not included in the results. A canine named Maeby finished before me, and I truly hope that dog had a giant treat and an epic nap following her run. I would have liked to finish in under 7 hours, and I could have, if I hadn't gotten lost or stopped to wait around and check my location. Or if I hadn't taken so much time at the aid stations... so much room for second guessing in retrospect. All things considered, I'm so grateful for a healthy finish and that I didn't have to be rescued. I feel like such a newbie in the ultra community, which is appropriate, since it's exactly what I am. I have to remind myself frequently that the only way to obtain experience is just to DO THE THINGS and that everybody starts from somewhere. No one starts off at threat level Expert. I learned a lot from this race experience and I'm so thrilled that I had the opportunity to participate.
I'm currently plotting and conniving, trying to figure out if I can fit one more ultra in before we fly to Hawaii... maybe get one more state marked off my race map. I'm not sure if I can manage another ultra less than 30 days after Broken Toe, but mentally it seems like a great idea.
One lesson learned from this ultra: Donuts are always a good idea after finishing a 50K. :)

Run Woodstock 50K part 2

So I'm signed up for a 50K and my only qualifications are that I love to run and I run a lot. Seems completely legitimate to me.

I had less than two weeks between the time that I signed up and the date of the actual event, which was great because I had less time to stress and worry. I had less than two weeks to the event, which was BAD because I had

-no hydration pack

-no trail shoes

-no trail running experience

-no solo running in months

No problem.

 (disclaimer: I do not recommend this kind of life choice. You should definitely not run a trail ultra without training on trails, testing the proper equipment, blahblahblah. If you do what I did and stuff goes horribly wrong, don't blame me. I'm crazy.)

I read tons of reviews and bought a hydration pack. I went on two solo runs without the stroller. (Sam was not happy to be left behind.) I bought trail shoes. I wore them ONCE on paved trail, just to make sure they weren't going to make my feet bleed. I ran on zero trails, because there aren't any unpaved trails around here that I know of. I sought the advice of an ultrarunner with experience to find out how long she ran prior to a 50K. She said that her mentor had told her that if she could do a 15 mile day and a 16 mile day back to back, or a 15 mile day and a 20 mile day back to back, she should be able to safely handle a 50K. I liked those numbers, so about 9 days before the event, I logged a 20 mile day, followed by a 16 mile day. Then I started a taper week. Taper is horrible. My left big toe started acting up and it hurt to even walk around. I was pretty sure I had sesamoiditis because I had just gotten new shoes the previous week (not the trail shoes) and they were not as supportive as my previous model. There wasn't really anything I could do about it, except rub oils on it and hope that it wouldn't get worse. I can't use ice too much on my toes because I have Raynaud's and they go numb pretty immediately. I really didn't take too many days off from running. I took Sunday and Monday off, ran Tuesday, went to the gym on Wednesday, then broke out my brand new trail shoes and ran in them on Thursday. Just knowing that I probably shouldn't run too far, and that I couldn't run as much as I wanted really messed with my head. Sam was bummed because we were missing our runs. It was not fun. Running Thursday in the trail shoes seemed to magically heal my toe, proving that it was, in fact, the new road shoes that had caused the issue in the first place. I meal prepped and planned on Thursday afternoon so that I wouldn't be slammed and overwhelmed with tasks as soon as we rolled back into town late Saturday. This was important for my sanity because I had no idea what kind of physical condition I would be in when we returned from Michigan.
As I was packing on Friday morning, it suddenly occurred to me that my race start time was 6am. I already knew this, but the full significance didn't hit me until Friday morning. It's dark at 6am. Really dark. I did not have a headlamp. Did I need a headlamp? Is it stupid to wonder if I need a headlamp? I DM'd an instagram buddy that I knew was running the same race and asked, "Um, are you bringing a headlamp?" The answer came back, "Yes, definitely!" My problem solving wheels started turning.... HA. Got it. I had the answer! Michael had given me a small LED military grade flashlight. I could just use that! Perfect! After all, I would only need it for about 45 minutes. I had just dodged that bullet with the greatest of ease. I triumphantly stowed my flashlight in the side pocket of my hydration pack and we left for Michigan around lunch time.

We checked into the Comfort Inn in Chelsea, Michigan around 4:00 and then drove to Hell's Ranch, through Pinckney, to pick up my race bib. It felt totally surreal. I wasn't nervous, but I was So Excited To Run. I felt like a coiled up spring about to explode. I was so excited to have the privilege to run in a new state with other people that love running.

Although Hell had some lovely dining establishments, we chose to eat in Chelsea instead. 

 After we picked up my bib and got the lay of the land, we left to find dinner. Yelp was our friend and we ended up at Thompson's Pizza in Chelsea. I cannot recommend it highly enough. It was obviously a safe choice because it was wildly popular with the locals. We were fortunate to get a table. It was inexpensive, had an extensive menu, and the food was SO good.

*disclaimer: I do not recommend eating half of an order of fried mushrooms the night before running a 50K. I am really bad at taper. It worked out just fine for me. I didn't feel mushroomy during my run, but I can't in good conscience recommend this kind of irresponsible behavior.*

Anyway, I highly recommend the fried mushrooms. They were delicious. :)
We crashed at the hotel after hunting down clearance rack swimsuits for the kids (I didn't know the hotel had a pool, or I would have packed suits.) and after a couple of hours of swimming, we all went to bed. I could not sleep. My adrenaline was already pumping and sleep eluded me. I dozed for less than an hour before my alarm went off at 4:20am.

{breakfast on the bathroom floor. yum.}

I got up and made coffee, using all the caffeinated coffee provided by the hotel. I brought creamer and superhero muffins from home. I will happily eat fried mushrooms the night before, but I do not mess around with pre-run fuel. That's serious business. Changing up my diet right before a long run is a recipe for disaster. At 5:00 Michael got up and drove me to Hell. He dropped me off at the entrance to Hell's Ranch and said, "Don't die. We really need you." Then he went back to the hotel.

I walked up to the start line and bounced around trying to stay warm. It was just below 40 degrees, I think, and it was completely dark. As I waited, I got to cheer on the 100K and 100 mile runners as they came through the aid station at the start line. They were so amazing, still going strong after running all night! After a while, a guy with fluffy hair, bell bottoms and a tie dye shirt grabbed the microphone and said something to the effect of, "So, yeah, um guys, I guess if you want to line up between the Christmas lights, we're going to start in about.... 8 minutes. 8 minutes is a really long time, right?!"

(Woodstock was a trip, ya'll. So laid back and funky. I cannot recommend this race experience highly enough. It was seriously awesome. Unlike anything I've ever experienced.)

When the race officially started, we all filed up a grassy hill, and immediately plunged into the woods, on a single track trail. It bottle necked quickly and I became part of a running conga line. I turned on my spiffy flashlight and trained it on the ground and quickly realized that I definitely should have brought a headlamp. My flashlight was not bright enough, and actually started dying within about 15 minutes. I later found out that it was not a military grade flashlight at all. It was a trinket gift from USAA. I relied on the beam from the headlamps of the runners in front of me, which was only partly successful. The person behind me was wearing a pretty powerful headlamp and it cast a dark shadow (my own shadow) directly in front of me, leaving my immediate path in total darkness. I prayed a lot. I rolled my right ankle 3 or 4 times and I was very concerned that I was going to injure myself simply due to my blind running. I went as carefully as possible and kept my eyes trained on the beam from the headlamp in front of me, and watched the reflectors on the running shoes ahead of me. Fortunately, the sun always rises! I was so glad to see the path in front of me and I kept thinking how much easier this trail would be in the daylight, and how I really couldn't wait to run it again when I could see it.

I was able to pick up my pace on the packed gravel portions of the trail, but I carefully and slowly navigated the steep uphills and downhills. One of my instagram buddies gave me some good advice, "Walk the hills." I kept reminding myself of this- it helped me a lot. I wasn't losing time by walking the hills, I was saving precious energy for speed on the flatter and safer portions. Also, with my lack of trail running experience, it wouldn't have been safe for me to attempt too much speed on the single track hills. My ankles and knees aren't accustomed to the irregularity of trails. There were aid stations with water, food, portapotties, and volunteers every four miles. It was so encouraging to be cheered on! It also really helped break up the run. The first loop went so well and I was so pumped to be halfway through. I only stopped once to take photos of the trail. Right after the sun came up, the mist was rising and I reached a point in the trail where it was all planks and bridges and I got the opportunity to look around. It was just so peaceful.

The first portion of the second loop was pretty easy for me. I was very excited to run the portion that I had run blindly during the first loop. Turns out, it IS easier when you can see where you're going. I didn't roll my ankle and I was careful to keep my footfalls as stable as possible. I knew the section from mile 24 to 28 was going to be the hardest for me, not necessarily in a physical sense, but from a mental perspective. Knowing that I'm not almost done, but more than halfway, is always a tricky point for me, no matter how far I'm running. I met a couple of women on the trail and they were such excellent conversationalists that it made the miles fly by. I have to admit, I was feeling pretty "trail runner" and "tough" because I got whipped by a thorn bush in the dark on the first loop and I had actual blood to show for it. Then I got to talking to the woman in front of me. She had taken a fall on the trail and landed on her finger and she was pretty sure it was broken. It was her ring finger and it was double in size. She was keeping it elevated while she ran to try to minimize the swelling. She said she wasn't sure if she was going to finish and she was concerned that they were going to have to cut off her rings. That's about the time my feelings of being "super tough trail runner" vanished and I was reminded of how fortunate I was to still be on my feet. Incidentally, the woman with the broken finger did finish the race. She finished just ahead of me, and came in strong. She definitely won the prize for Super Tough Trail Runner.

About mile 20-24, I realized that my hydration pack was rubbing and at the same time, it felt like I had a small rock in my shoe. I needed fuel, and to get it I would have to take off my pack. I decided instead to ask a volunteer at the aid station to grab a honey stinger for me from my pack, so I wouldn't have to take it off. I didn't know how bad the chafing was, but I know from experience that if you take off the offending item and then replace it on top of the chafing, it hurts worse. If you just ignore it, eventually, the pain fades. As for the rock in my shoe, I didn't dare take my shoes off. Sometimes forming blisters feel like rocks and if it WAS a blister, taking my shoes off with so little of the race left would be a disaster for me. I was not about to mess with that. Eventually, my body ignored the chafing pain and I chose to ignore the foreign object in my shoe. 

The last four miles went by slowly, because I knew I was almost done, and I also knew that my kids and husband were waiting lunch for me. When I thought I had about two miles left, I started counting. Every time I reached 60, I figured that was probably another tenth of a mile covered. When I came into the clearing and left the woods, I still had enough gas in my tank to sprint for the finish. I saw these guys waiting for me- it was the best!

{photo NOT taken at the race. my phone was in my pack. i made them all pose later with the sign. }

{Sam made sure to check out the trash/recycling situation before we left.}

The event facilities provided hot showers for race participants and that was such a nice amenity. We didn't hang around for long after the race because everyone was hungry and we had a long drive back to IN. We stopped by Thompson's for a late lunch (because it was so good the first time!) and headed home. We made another pit stop in Fort Wayne for frozen yogurt, because I had delayed onset hunger and because Red Mango is always a good idea. 

At one point during my second loop of the race, I genuinely thought that I must be last, because I was alone for such a long time. When the waves of 5K, 5 mile, 10K, half and full marathon runners started, the trail got jammed with people that were running on fresh feet and it was difficult to tell who was running what race, and whether I was fast, slow, or somewhere in between. I honestly didn't really care how I finished, as long as I finished. My highest aim was to finish unbroken. The most tiring aspect of the race, other than the punishing hills, was the concentration it took to keep my eyes on the trail. I almost fell once, and rolled my ankle a few times, but managed to stay upright and that was a pretty giant accomplishment for me. As it turned out, I came it second in my age group. Which meant I left with this very groovy memento: 

Sam has consented to share it with me. That's pretty generous of him. 

In case anyone is curious or looking for recommendations, I took in 2 honey stinger waffles, 3 peanut butter GUs, and 2 Nuun tablets (dissolved in 32oz of water) during the length of the race. I used up about half of the water in my hydration pack and drank almost all of the Nuun that I had in my handheld water bottle. I love these fuel sources. They don't upset my stomach at all. The Nuun is light and not too sweet, so it doesn't give me a sugar rush. The peanut butter GU is the only one that I have tried, because GU grosses me out. I can take the peanut butter one because I can pretend that it's actually peanut butter and not a clear gooey substance. The waffles are tough when they are cold and harder to chew. But they digest easily for me and give me an almost immediate energy boost. 

The 4 hour drive home was probably not the best way to recover from what was supposed to be a 32 mile run, but actually clocked closer to 34. I've been pretty stiff these past couple of mornings, but I'm not injured... just sore from the trail. I've already been on the hunt for another ultra that I can squeeze in before we move, but we only have two available weekends left before we jet off to Hawaii. Our time here in Indiana is draining away. I'm so thankful for the opportunity to experience this before we leave the continental US! I can't wait to do another one. I definitely want to do another 50K, but a 50 miler is the new dream. 

It was amazing. Everybody should do it. The end. 

Run Woodstock 50K Part 1

I ran my very first ultra on Saturday. For those of you that don't know, an ultra run is a run that is longer than 26.2 miles. I've wanted to run long for years, but due to various issues (a year long bout with plantar fasciitis, kid's sports schedules, military training, etc.) the timing has never been right.

 At the beginning of 2016, my left foot was pretty destroyed from PF and the recovery difficult. I was marathon training and planning to run the Carmel marathon in early spring. Due to some problems with my shoes, I developed PF and it became severe. I saw a couple of different podiatrists, tried several methods of treatment: Strassburg sock, months of physical therapy, ice, heat, rolling with golfballs, special tools, different shoes, different socks, $$$. I finally tried using Doterra oil blends in the fall of 2016, as a last ditch desperate attempt to grasp healing. The tissue in my foot was swollen to twice its normal size, and according to the X-ray the podiatrist took, my tissue was "shredded." Not good. I started using the oils and began to see improvement. Meanwhile, I continued to crosstrain at the gym. Low impact/no impact cardio was my friend. I pretty much lived on the stair climber, the cross country machine, the rowing machine, and the stationary bike. I also religiously did all the exercises prescribed by my physical therapist. It is of some value to note that PT treated me for about three months, at which point they said there was nothing more they could do for me. I just love it when people give up on me. *double thumbs up.* The day they cut me loose, I had an uncontrollable sobbing fit in my van. I was so discouraged. I was so afraid I would never be able to run again, or be able to stand or walk around without pain. Running was no longer my primary goal; I just wanted to be able to cook dinner without having to stand on one foot like a flamingo chef.

I kept up the stretching, cross training, and added the oils to my daily routine. Within a few months, I could walk around and stand without chronic pain. It wasn't long before I started adding short runs back to my week. By the spring of 2017, I was almost back up to my previous mileage. When summer rolled around and Molly started having morning swim practices, I considered the time a gift and that became my prescribed run time. I discovered that there were neighborhoods we could add to our route that extended my miles and kept Sam happy because we could plan our runs according to the city trash schedule. On Monday, we ran the Monday trash route, on Tuesday, we ran the Tuesday trash route, and on through the week. It worked beautifully because I automatically had two potential rest days built into the week- trash doesn't run on Saturday and Sunday. Sam loves riding in the stroller and he's never bored with it. He's an observer and enjoys seeing new things. He's also still obsessed with garbage and garbage trucks, so it was very easy to capitalize on his obsession. When morning practices ended due to school starting back, I was no longer limited to a two hour run. We extended our runs further and I was able to go as far as Sam wanted. Soon I found myself running 15 or more miles a day, five days a week. Some days we would run 17 or 18. My body was keeping up and my feet were still functioning. Suddenly I realized that an ultra was a very real possibility for me physically. It would have been easy for me to put it off, because I usually put off things that cost money and aren't completely necessary. But we have a big move coming up; we are on orders to move to Oahu, Hawaii in two months. If I wanted to complete an ultra in the continental United States, I had better get on it, otherwise I would have to wait three and a half years before having the opportunity.

 So, I googled "ultra races near you," and found one called Run Woodstock. They offered a lot of distance choices- 5K, 5 mile, 10K, half marathon, full marathon, 50K, 50 mile, 100K and 100 mile. I figured with the mileage I've been logging lately, I could safely commit to running a 50K and actually dare to think of completing it without dying. I casually brought it up with Michael to see if he had an opinion on it:
 "So, what would you think if I signed up for an ultra run in Michigan? It's about 2 weeks from now. It's about a 4 hour drive. I figured I could drive up the night before and maybe sleep in the van and run in the morning, then drive back in the afternoon. They have a camping area available so I think I'd be fine sleeping in the van."

-silence.-

Michael: "You want to drive by yourself to Michigan and sleep in the van."-spoken as a statement in a deadpan voice.

We went back and forth for a while over it. I didn't want Sam to miss his Saturday tee ball game and Michael helps with the team. Plus, Molly had swim practice on Saturday morning and I knew she wouldn't want to miss it. Basically what it came down to was deciding that we would make it a family weekend roadtrip to Michigan. Michael was the only one among us that had ever been to Michigan and his experience there was limited to Fort Greely. We made reservations at the only hotel that still had an available room for less than $300, and I signed up for the race.

So here I am, less than 2 weeks away from running a 50K. I have not been formally training for a 50K. I have run on zero trails. I do not have trail shoes. I do not have a functioning hydration pack. But I figured, this is my shot. It'll work out. Or it won't, and at least I will have tried.