Bull Run Run 50

I had missed the lottery for BRR 50 by only a few short numbers and took position on the wait list at a distant number 66. Unbeknown to me that I'd ever see the entrants list, I ended up signing up and racing the NJ Ultra Fest 50miler just 3 weeks prior to Bull Runs race date. Despite an amazing race (time of 11:24:40), I left ultrafest with some LCL issues to the left knee but nothing some good 'ol R&R wouldn't fix.

Not even a week before BRR 50's race day, I found I had left my position on the wait list and took stance on the entrants list as Bib #225!! Unwilling to withdraw, the executive decision had been made for me that I was going to run!

OCD pre-race setup

I made it down to Manassas, VA Friday night and checked into the Days Inn. I quick grabbed a cup of coffee and drove to the start where I routinely picked up my race bib, tshirt, and complimentary beer glass. Amongst some other runners, including a friend, Adam, I'd met months before at Virgil Crest, we sat and listened to our pre-race briefing... which mainly consisted of 3 points: don't litter, don't get lost, and have fun. After which, I headed back to my hotel, set out my belongings in OCD fashion for race start and tried to slip away into sweet slumber!

                                       

I arrived at Hemlock Overlook at 530, grabbed some water and a muffin from the complimentary breakfast and sat around to chat with other runners, including Adam and his friend Ray, and my new friend Gray (who runs with Happy Trails) who I had the pleasure to meet at Ultrafest in NJ. The beauty of these type of events is that so often we're caught meeting up with friends from past races!! Its even more refreshing to chat with other runners who don't find it crazy that we're about to set out onto the trails for practically an entire day... running a distance that most would find too much to even drive :)

At 630a on the dot, we were off. A short run around the parking lot to spread out and onto the trail we went.  I figured this race would be relatively easy coming off of a previous 50, as the website stated that an elevation profile would consist of a 'flat line with several small bumps'. I'm not sure if the RD needs new glasses, or possibly a new watch that has elevation on it... but 'small bumps' are hardly what I encountered within just the first few short miles!

Popes Head Crossing. Photo by Robert Fabia

I found myself walking very early on, as these 'bumps' so to speak, seemed like mini-mountains (this coming from a runner who lives in Philadelphia where its predominantly flat, and doesn't spend the much needed time hill training she should). Either way, I coasted along and took my place with the rest of the back of the packers who I was sure to spend the next 12 hours or so with on the trails.



Near the turnaround. Photo by Mike Bur



The first 16 miles weren't as bad as I thought. Towards the turnaround at mile 9.4 there was some really nice flat areas that were easily runnable, not to mention beautiful, and it was really enjoyable! I picked a pace that was a little too frisky for me in those early miles though... which would undoubtedly take its toll in the latter miles. As we trotted back to Hemlock at the start, we were introduced to the final hill leading back to the finish which would be a killer at mile 49. Quickly, I crested the hill, made my way along the grassy field and up to the start where I grabbed a snack at the aid station and headed back down the trail for more fun. (I might want to add here that pickles are not something I should eat anymore at aid stations... my stomach was not pleased). The day was early and it was still quite cool which made the run just that much better!

 From Hemlock, runners make their way down along the river to the Bull Run Marina Aid Station at mile 21.1. Here the spread was great and the volunteers even had a foam roller set out for any runners in need of a quick tweak. It was about this time I popped my first ibuprofen as my left knee was beginning to feel the stress of the run. Not thinking it was anything serious, I headed off towards Wolf Run Shoals. This 5 mile stretch is where things started to take a turn. The knee was feeling less peachy and I was beginning to really slow on all the ascents as each step seemed to agitate it more and more. Before I knew it, I was at Wolf Run enjoying a popsicle (BEST TREAT EVER) and emptying the warm cytomax from my camelpak in leu of some ice cold water!

Running down my new trail friend at Mile 21.
Photo by Aaron Schwartzbard

The temperature was beginning to rise and it was definitely going to be a long day. I made the next 2 miles in some decent time and arrived at the Fountainhead Aid station where I grabbed some chips and headed back down the trail towards the infamous Do Loop at mile 32.5.  It was here that things went south...



The knee was SCREAMING. The pain was bringing me to tears. I grabbed another dosing of ibuprofen at Do Loop and set out for 2.5 miles of extreme pain. The Do Loop was not flat by any standards of flat. The rolling hills felt like mountains. Each up hurt, each down killed. I started planning and accepting my DNF. This race just wasn't going to happen for me today. Imagining 20 more miles of this unbearable pain was out of the question.

Somehow I made it back to the Do Loop aid station at 35.5, ate a quick orange and a few pieces of cantaloupe, and decided that 2ish more miles back to Fountainhead were doable. I jogged when I could, walked most of the time, texted friends explaining why I was going to drop, and just kept trucking forward. I think I was passed numerous times in these mere 2 miles... but that was okay.... I was still moving forward.



Fountainhead Aid Station. Photo by Robert Fabia



I arrived back at Fountainhead to some incredible volunteers. They quick grabbed my pack and filled me up with ice and gave me some much needed encouragement to just push through another 2 miles back to Wolf Run Shoals at mile 39.9. I even grabbed a slice of Pizza to go. Such service!!

How, or why, I listened to them I don't know, but that "Continuous forward Motion" kept me going... and I arrived at Wolf Runs with time to spare. The stomach was starting to go sour about now, and eating anything didn't seem like a good idea, so I grabbed a few chips and a few grapes just for SOMETHING.

 Mile 39.9. C'mon Melissa. At this point I'm not sure if it was sheer stubbornness or what... but I decided that anything was possible for 10 miles. I made the decision that I would continue forward, as slowly and painfully as possible, until I finished or until they kicked me off the course! A DNF because I was withdrawing was unacceptable at this point!!

The trail back to Bull Run Marina had some decent hills that made each step hell! I found a few stragglers that I ended up walking and occasionally jogging with, chatting about how beautiful this course was! With just under a half a mile to the Marina a volunteer out on the trail informed us we had 11mins to make it to the aid station to meet the cutoff. With every ounce of energy and will I could muster, I jogged. The "what I think I look like" and "what I KNOW I look like" were both hand in hand right about now... I can assure you I looked like shit.

 With 3 minutes left on the clock, I arrived at the Marina, mile 44.9, grabbed some ice and a few chips and set back out onto the trail. I was later told that several people dropped at the Marina... which was crazy... as there was less than 5 miles left and we had 90 minutes to get there!!

It was this section of trail that everything died. My stomach was shot, both my knees stopped functioning with any functionality that knees normal should and I found myself just barely able to walk let alone jog. Regardless, I kept moving forward.

 Around mile 47, I was met by the "Sweepers" cleaning up the trail and finding any stragglers over the last few mile stretch. Pretty depressing I must admit to be met by the sweepers. Fortunately, they were amazing and vowed to stick with me the next 3 miles to assure a finish. I found I could speed walk a 16-17min/mi pace with them urging me on, and even found a brief stretch that I was able to jog before resigning myself back to a walk. The volunteers kept trying to push me forward a little faster as we could still meet the official cutoff time, but I knew it wasn't my day. Moving forward at any speed other than "slow" was detrimental!

The Blue Bells were still in bloom along the river the final stretch and it was truly beautiful.. that is... until we met back up with mile 49 and the hill that would inevitably be the death of me. Hill... I say... felt more like steep mountain by this point. Each step was brutal. My knees and my stomach continued to remind me every few seconds why I should have dropped at mile 30 when I first made my

decision to quit.  But without doubt, I made it to the top. We strolled across the grassy field straight to the road where we saw the finish clock.





The Finish. Photo by Stefan Fedyschyn 

Greeted with an ovation of cheers and congratulations, I crested the finish at 13:12 (12 minutes after the cutoff). Despite not being an "official finisher", I finished.... I didn't quit when everything told me that I should have. It even turns out I wasn't last... another runner came in just minutes behind me.

The VHTRC puts on an incredible race, on an amazing trail, with phenomenal volunteers. I will definitely be back to take my place on the "official" finishers list in the future. I learned a lot about myself this race...mostly about my willpower and desire not to quit even when quitting seems like the only rational decision. I'm proud to say that I crossed that finish line- irregardless of my time- it was 50 miles.

See you soon BRR. I'll be back :)











It all leads up to this...

Speed just isn't on my side.

I can recount back to when we had to do that awesome P.E. test in high school with the one mile run that everyone so impatiently waited for each year! ha ha. Even back then, a 11 or 12 minute mile was PHENOMENAL for me!

Needless to say, when I first started running, it was brutal.... okay... brutal probably doesn't even break the surface. It was TORTUROUS! Each step, each mile, was a stretch of just how far I could go.  Like skydiving, it was a test. I didn't want to just know what it felt like to run, I wanted to know what it felt like to "race", to be part of the large crowds you'd see gathered on TV or the covers of exercise magazines!

After realizing that speed just wasn't my forte, I slowed down. (Slowed down you ask? How on earth can a chick who is already running a 12 minute pace 'slow down'?). Well, I slowed down, I walked, I went for time and for the enjoyment of the run. And don't you know... I actually enjoyed it!

I went on to run my first half marathon in January 2010. Followed by a slew of other half marathons, 10 milers, etc; however I still wanted more. I wanted MORE.

In January 2011, I ran my first marathon, the ING Miami Marathon. No walk in the park, I finished in 5:44. Painful, exhausted, and glad it was over, I vowed to never run another one of THOSE! Sure enough, the pain dissipated, the memory of the pain turned into memory of elation, and I did it again... and again...  

Six months after my first marathon, I again wanted MORE.

On a whim, I signed up and ran the BOMF 20in24 Lone Ranger ultramarathon in Philadelphia in July 2011. I'd love to be able to share a story of running like the wind, feeling the pavement under my feet roaring by, and a 50 mile finish with me cruising through arms held high... but that story will have to wait for another year. This 50 mile finish was anything but. My training was poor... I think I averaged 6 miles for the 2 weeks prior to race day... with my longest run being the Shamrock Marathon months earlier. I ran, walked, jogged, walked, cried, hallucinated, and cried some more... but somehow I finished. At just over 16 hours, I ran my first 50 miles.... and I was HOOKED!

Two more marathons flew by in 2011 and in September I felt like I was ready to conquer a trail ultra. I signed up for the Virgil Crest 50mi in Virgil, NY. A trail run boasting 10k of elevation, I felt like this would be the perfect challenge. Leading up to the race, again my training was less than optimal. I did little to no long runs, except for my marathons of coarse, and I didn't even bother to step foot onto a trail or add in any hill training. WOW...

Virgil chewed me up and spit me out. The week leading up to the race it rained, so the trails weren't easily runnable. It was shoe sucking mud. I had no knowledge of trail markers either, which made the first few miles quite interesting. That day, after 10 hours and 30 miles, I dropped. My very first DNF. I was defeated. Luckily, I came away from that race with a new respect for the ultra distance, and new friends who would teach me the ropes and give me the support I needed to keep moving forward and keep pushing those limits I set out to crush when I first toed the line at my first 5k.

Without saying, I learned. I trained, and I hit the trails. I finished some shorter distance events and in December 2011, ran my first official 50k. Its been slow progress, but i'm still learning. Recently, I've done 2 more 50k's, and another 50 miler (with NJ Trail Series Ultrafest), which went 100% smoother than my first 50miler at 20in24. I actually completed that race in 11:24, which was an almost 5 hours faster time than my first 50miler (and on trail compared to road to boot!- [see picture to the right]). I still hold Virgil Crest as my race that defeated me, and vow to come back and take my revenge on the mountain in 2012. Beware Ian Golden... your race hasn't gotten the best of me yet :)

Either way, I'm not fast. I'm not one you'll see at the front of a race... i'm the back of the packer... the one still trying to figure out how to keep placing one foot in front of the other to finish. I'm the one who learned that giving up just isn't an option. You can be first.... dont worry... I dont have a problem being last!!

Preface... So to Speak

I guess I should start off by saying "Thanks". That's a thanks for visiting, and a thanks for taking the time to sit back and laugh at the crazy adventures I somehow continually find myself involved in!!

Over the past few years I've heard repeatedly by friends, family, complete strangers, etc, "What? Are you trying to kill yourself or something?" Its not that I have some death wish or anything insane like that; but moreso, a desire to experience life to its fullest... however dangerous or crazy it may be.

I started out on this quest back in 2007 when I took my first tandem skydive. WHAT... A... RUSH! Who would have thought that 2 years later, and close to 200 jumps, I'd be competing locally and having the time of my life. Needless to say, people from the getgo had lots to say! Rightfully so!



But anyways, in late 2009 I left the sky to find new and exciting ways to experience life. Somewhere in there along the way, a friend convinced me to try running. HA... HA... HA. Me? Run? Funny! But it stuck.. a painful mile here... to a tortourous 5k there... but all the while a new challenge. I wont even begin to lie and tell myself or anyone else that I was, or am, good at it; however, I've found a love for lacing up a pair of sneakers and hitting the road for some well-deserved miles of "me time". 

My times are not fast. You will never catch me at the front of the pack. Hell, you probably wont even find me in the middle of the pack. I am your everyday weekend warrior, a back of the packer, who struggles mile or mile to see just how far is my "too far". Its a new adventure, a new quest, and a passion that I can only hope you'll stick around to laugh at all that's happened this past year!