Burning River is a 100-mile race, but I don't treat it as a race. I consider Burning River to be a 24+hour party where I get to see every running friend I know. It is a weekend without sleep. It is a weekend to follow through on poorly-planned ideas with minimal training.
But that is just me.
There are friends who run the full hundred miles for this race (actually 102 miles!). There are friends who run the front or back 50. There are many friends who organize relay teams of 4 or 8 runners to cover this distance. Last year I ran in a 4 woman relay, and this year I decided to run in an 8 woman relay with the Trail Sisters. Lest you think that I was taking it easy, I want you to know that I chose leg 7, which is a night leg of 17ish trail miles with 1,866 feet of elevation. Have I laid down my crazy for you yet? No? How about if I tell you that due to work and family vacation, the longest distance I've run this summer is 13 miles, and that was at least 3 weeks ago? Now are you convinced?
I was sick for two weeks before this race, and my running was minimal, but I wasn't worried too much about it. Trail running allows for some hiking as opposed to road running, where you are a wuss if you walk. I knew I could finish my leg, but I didn't want to be very slow.
The Trail Sisters had their annual dinner the night before the race.
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Can you find me? I'm in pink. |
My leg wasn't slated to start until around midnight, so I had some time to kill. Marta, Jenn, and I decided to hang together to cheer on other runners at the 50 mile mark.
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Marta, me, Jenn, Dawn, Kelleigh |
We spent a few hours talking with running friends. Kelleigh was filming a documentary on the race, and I pestered her until she finally consented to film me (to shut me up). I am a star in her film (until I end up on the editing floor).
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Here I am being VERY AMUSING. |
We watched for our friend Jason, who was running his first 100 miler. This was an emotional moment for all of us because Jason was running the race in honor of Steve Pierce, my friend and friend to many, who died from a heart attack in May.
Read my tribute to him here. Jennifer is Steve's wife, and I admire the strength it took for her to celebrate this race with us. We stood in the sun for a few hours (in retrospect, I don't think that was a great idea), and we were rewarded with Jason coming in to the 50 mile point:
Jason looked strong coming in. He had a huge smile on his face when he saw that his crew (which was enormous) had brought in his mother, who is fighting cancer. She gave him a big hug and the strength he needed to continue.
Let me just take a minute to show you something and explain the context. There are rules in races that have relay teams. One of the primary rules is that when a relay runner passes a 50 or 100 miler, they need to announce that they are a relay runner. This is courtesy, and it is very necessary in the last fifty miles of the race. Imagine that you are a 100 mile runner, and some punk blows by you on the trail: you would be discouraged, right? That is why it is necessary to announce yourself as a relay runner; you are letting the runner know that you have more energy because you have fewer miles. Many relay runners (read: ME) take it a step further, and they tell the runners they pass that they admire them for their stamina and courage. When I pass a 50 or 100 miler (after announcing myself), I always say something like, "Great job, Runner. You look strong!" or "I really admire your strength, Runner." It's super-important to encourage those runners because they will need all the help they can get to finish.
Ok, so imagine you are a relay runner approaching the 50 mile mark of the course. Imagine that the Race Director announces that the man you are running behind is a 100-miler, and then there is a huge crowd that cheers for him. What would you do in the chute? Would you continue your pace behind him and let him take the lead for the last 50 feet? Or would you give it everything you've got to blow by him and cross the marker before him? Take a look at this dude, and guess what he decided to do:
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Must. Pass. Hundred. Miler. |
Ok, 'nuff said.
Anyway, my leg was slated to start at midnight. Bobbi and Marta were driving me to the start when we got a text from Jenn (who was on the leg before me). She said she was dizzy and sick and was heading for the road. Marta used the race app to find her, and we drove to her location to pick her up. I think that those hours in the sun were working on us at that point. Marta and Bobbi dropped me at my start, and they took care of Jenn.
Update: Jenn is fine.
I started at Valley Picnic, which was uphill for miles. In fact, most of my run was freaking uphill. Of course. I knew every part of the 17+ miles I ran, but in the dark the trails weren't as recognizable, and I couldn't figure out how they linked together. Luckily, the course was well marked, so I didn't have to think about any of that.
My leg was a combination of road-Towpath-jogging path-trail. The trail parts were definitely slowing me down because of the night and the climbing, but I was able to make up for that on the road and Towpath. Sand Run jogging trail is MY HOUSE, so I was pleasantly surprised to find myself running there.
The course was tough, and I ran it in about 4 hours and 12 minutes, which is slower than I had hoped, but I think it was understandable since it was climbing at night (and I was undertrained). The aid stations were within reasonable distances, and the volunteers were AMAZING. They were so kind, and they tried to make sure I was fueling and hydrating properly, even when I arrogantly dismissed their questions by saying that I was only running 17 miles. I am an idiot for sure, Peeps. I don't know why my friends put up with me, unless I am fodder for jokes later.
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Stuffing my face and considering my life choices at the aid station. |
I met up with the Trail Sisters (thanks to Bobbi, Marta, and Nicole!) at the handoff to Kelleigh.
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I have evil eyes. Why do you suppose that is? |
Then Bobbi shuttled me back to the finish line, where I changed clothes and slept for about an hour in my car to wait for Kelleigh, who came in like a Speedy Gonzales, so I freaking missed her crossing the finish line.
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I am apologizing to Kelleigh for being a Sleepy McSleeperson. Nicole is about to steal my purse and run away, it seems. Allison hopes to distract me to help out Nicole. |
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Team Sisters of Mayhem with our medals! |
I really wanted to stay to see Jason come in, but I could barely keep my eyes open, and I knew I had to get home safely. This is what I missed:
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Jason finished and held up Steve's shirt as he crossed the line. There wasn't a dry eye in the place. |
I'm so proud of all my friends who ran this weekend: Sisters of Mayhem, Twisted Sisters (who kicked our asses), the Mother Runners, and the 50 and 100 milers. It was a challenge to run in the heat, and I am so proud of all of you; whether you met your personal goal or not, you are amazing to me.
I am so thankful to the Pacers for my friends and the volunteers for every part of this race. Your selflessness is an inspiration to me. Your calmness and cheerfulness kept many runners going. I would especially like to thank Bobbi, Marta, and Kelleigh, who were seemingly everywhere during the race and who cheerfully shuttled us all around. Please note: Bobbi has EVERYTHING in her car because she is always uber-prepared and keeps her cool at all times.
I would like to thank the Race Directors for Burning River. You had many challenges laid upon you on top of the "normal" challenges of hosting a 100 mile race. You did a great job of giving us a fun and challenging experience.
Peeps, this isn't the end. I've got a 25K (One Hot Mama) in just two weeks, and it involves camping, so you know there will be some stories. I hope that whatever trails you run, you run happy!
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