SRT 50k: Recap & Redemption

I have dreamed of running this race since 2018. In 2018, I posted on my Instagram story that "I would run this next year by myself—the entire 50k." I didn't run it in 2019, 2020, 2021, or 2022. Truthfully, I wasn't sure if I would want to run another ultra after completing my first one last May, but that quickly changed.

I signed up for this race in January, originally intending to use it as a training run for the Dirty German 50 Miler I had planned on running in May. However, an emotionally rough winter (January and February) left me feeling drained and unexcited at the thought of training for and running 50 miles. March re-lit a fire in me, though, and I anxiously awaited this six-year-in-the-making dream.

My race strategy was simple:

+ Walk early and often. + Be on top of fueling (every 30 mins) + Be on top of electrolytes. + 12:30 pace for the first half, maybe pick up the pace on the way back, depending on how I felt.

I wasn't nervous when I signed up for the race in January, and I wasn't nervous the morning of until my husband dropped me off at the start. I started thinking about the last time I ran a road marathon and how horrible it went. Today was a road marathon plus five extra miles. What if it went awful again? I took a deep breath and headed toward the check-in tent to get my timing chip. My nerves quickly dissipated as I reminded myself how many times I'd run this trail. Everything would be okay.

I was in the second group to start at 8:15. After the RD explained the first five miles, we were off. I kept it slow and steady. I had a "Moody Playlist" on Spotify, which featured an eclectic mix of songs that helped me stay consistent in my pace. When I found myself going faster than intended, I would say out loud to myself, "Chill out," and instantly slow back down.

If you want to stop reading here, I'll TLDR it for you: this was one of the most amazing long runs I've ever had. It was my best 50k (of the two I've done) and an incredible day overall. I'm writing about it a week later, still on cloud nine.

So, why? What happened? How? (Well, my first response is that running was on my side that day. Some days it is, some days it's not—looking at you, Philly Marathon 23.)

I know the first five miles of this course like the back of my hand, which is perhaps why my nerves faded away, and I felt comforted and at ease during this long, long run. The first aid station was at mile five in Oaks, where I met my husband briefly and saw my friend, Alyse, before moving on. What worked so well for me (mentally) during this run was breaking it up by aid stations and my fueling times.

I had a beyond-familiar course, a moody, slow playlist, and a positive mindset on my way out. Due to my work schedule and the winter days getting dark so fast, much of my training was done on a treadmill. The treadmill helped me run the mile I was in, and it trained my brain to go into a mindless space. I got okay with being "bored."

It started warming up as I ran to the second aid station. I kept telling myself to take it slow and easy. Once I got to the second aid station, I drank water and kept moving forward. I was getting excited, knowing that my coach would be waiting for me at the third aid station and turnaround point in Conshy… with a beer.   It was so great to see her at the halfway point and feel as good as I felt. It felt like redemption from the last time I saw her during the Philly marathon and met her with tears, saying, "I am not having a good time at all." Today, I met her with a smile and a hug and said, "I FEEL GREAT!". I sipped on some beer she brought me, we talked briefly, and then I headed back. I had hoped to pick up the pace on my way back, but as it kept warming up, we decided it would be best and smartest to keep it slower.

I can say that I felt excellent until around mile 24, when I started to feel a fiery sensation in my left foot on my toe. I knew it was a blister; I didn't know how severe it was. I contemplated stopping and using one of my safety pins to drain it but was worried that would make it worse, and at this time, I thought I was on my way to PR my marathon time (it turns out I wasn't, but that's okay). I told myself once I got to the last aid station in Oaks, I would stop and assess my foot. The pain eventually went away over the two miles before I hit Oaks. I stopped for water, to drink and douse myself in, and kept moving. I was back to the trail segment I know so well and was five miles away from completing this ultra.   

The final three miles were the hardest, as to be expected, but I'm so proud that everything up until then felt as good as it did. I kept moving forward, checking off mile by mile. The sign I have a picture of from 2018 wasn't out on the trail this year, but I know where it should've been the moment I passed it on the trail. It was beyond special to me to know that I was finally accomplishing a dream I've had since 2018. The last mile was back on the pavement, and I gradually picked up my pace, giving this race the remainder of myself. I crossed the finish line with a huge smile, stopped my watch, and was in awe. My husband was waiting for me at the finish line with a surprise friend, Lauren, who was out on a bike ride! I took an hour off my first ultra time and had my second-best marathon time. I stayed positive the entire time and soaked it all in.

My fire is re-lit, and I'm eager for the summer, full of runs as I work on accomplishing my next goal.