Dirty German 25k - Recap

I was on such a post-race high from the SRT 50k that within a few days, I asked my coach if I could run the Dirty German 50k.  She said, depending on how I recovered — “maybe.”  In hindsight, I’m so grateful that was her response.  I forgot how long it takes your body to recover from such an effort.  My legs had begun to feel better within a few days, and I had 3 runs planned the following week as active recovery.  While my legs bounced back and felt great within a few days, the rest of my body was still experiencing complete fatigue and exhaustion.  Within a week, I rescinded my request and compromised to only run the 25k.

After some reflection, the truth is that I just wanted to run and run long on Saturday, the day before Mother’s Day, which was also my first Mother’s Day without my mom. I wanted nothing more than to be alone (semi) in the woods with the distraction of running, the feeling of trail under my feet, and maybe falling a few times.

The first week of May was mentally and emotionally exhausting.

The second week, even more so.

Race morning, I woke up and actually considered just going back to sleep.  In my history of running, I’ve never felt that way on race day morning, but then again, I’ve never ridden this turbulent rollercoaster of depression so much as I have this past year.  I don’t quit, and I find it difficult not to follow through on something I’ve committed myself to, so I got out of bed, dressed, packed my car, and headed out.

When I talked with my coach about this race, we laughed that it was a short run. I knew the drill: fuel, drink, walk where necessary—the usual strategy. I arrived in time to grab my bib as the 50-mile race began. I thought to myself, “How inspiring are these people?” My heart fluttered, and my stomach did somersaults as I came to the realization that in 5 months, I’ll be towing the start line to that same distance.

As we waited for the 25k to start, I noticed a woman I had seen earlier.  When I first saw her in line for the portapotties, I noticed her short, salt-and-pepper hair and lean figure.  I thought to myself, “Wow, that’s what my mom would look like if she were a runner.”  I smiled and thought nothing else of it and went about waiting.  I saw this woman again right before the start, and it was at that moment when she turned her head slightly to the right I saw she had one dangling dragonfly earring hanging in her left ear.  I snapped a quick picture and sent it to my family group text. Smiling, I said “hi” back to my mom.  This is the second race day “visit” I’ve received from my mom. It brought tears to my eyes as I crossed the start line. (PS: Mom, if you're reading this, I hope these signs never stop).

We started promptly at 8:30, and the run was uneventful.  The first mile was crowded, as to be expected, but quickly thinned out.  Fortunately, the course was much drier than last year's mud fest (but it has to be called the Dirty German for some reason, right?).  Truthfully, I was bored initially, thinking back to my fight with my alarm clock and how much I’d rather be in bed, snuggling my dog.  I quickly remembered why I had signed up to run this — as a distraction and another reminder that this is a gift to get to do this.  The perspective shift helped, and the run started to get better.  I had a really good, strong mile 8. Maybe it was the music (90's hip hop Spotify) or the part of the trail I was on, but I felt so strong.  When I encounter a hill during a trail run, I usually hike up it to preserve energy.  I was able to run up a lot of the hills during this race, though, thanks to my time training in Valley Forge over the winter.  The hills felt easy, too, which was encouraging. I stopped at the aid stations towards the end to drink some Coke, chuckling to myself that this is an acceptable form of hydration during a trail run.

I don’t find myself too competitive in running these days, but I have moments where I find a group of people or a solo runner that I choose to “pick off,” and I did that a few times with runners on this day.  I made the decision when hitting mile 14 to pass a guy who was in front of me.  He didn’t speed up as I approached him, so I knew it was now or never.  We briefly chatted. I said, "I hope the rest of the race is on the pavement! — he laughed and said, "Good work." I said, “We’re almost there; keep pushing,” and took off.  I felt strong and solid; my legs still had effort to give, and it felt good to be on pavement, so I pushed the pace.    

I soon found out my wish was not granted, and with about half a mile left, almost every possible tree was down across the trail.  I had to throw my body up and over a few of them — they were that big! Because I had committed to passing the guy back at mile 14, I knew I had to keep up the pace and continue pushing.  I’m proud to say he never caught up, and I finished strong with a smile on my face.  I crossed the finish line, grabbed a water, and immediately chugged it.  Fortunately, much of the trail was shaded during the run, but the weather had warmed up from the start, and in the sun, it was hot. I got my medal, grabbed some post-race food (all-German cuisine), and headed to my car.

Lessons learned? Of course. After a few miles in, I came to the realization that my ego wanted to run a 50k less than a month after running my last—to know that I could do this again and for the distraction. I’m grateful I decided to do the 25k, which could be done after one loop. I got what I came for—distraction in the woods and a few hours full of gratitude for my body's ability to do this. Sometimes, less can be more.

I’m taking the next few weeks easy regarding running before the big training begins on June 24.  I’m excited to somewhat rest and run smaller distances until then.