Dick Collins 50 Miler

I've sat on this for awhile now, not sure what to write about.

Dick Collins was my first 50 Mile trail running race. I signed up before Transrockies when it sounded like a good idea to "build" on the 120 miles Dana and I would have under our feet at the end of August. But somewhere between then and race day, the goddesses of feet and toes and heels cursed me, confidence eluded me, training challenged me and so there I was, at 6:30am on the shores of Lake Chabot with my friend Tina and our animated crew, Dana and Troy, heading off into the waning darkness, under-trained, over-anxious, to start what I had yet to wrap my head around - running 50 miles.

Pic courtesy of Malik Coates who was running the marathon distance.

My race report? We ran and walked, walked and ran, ate and ran, walked and ate and 1 minute after 12 hours I crossed the finish line and stopped. No lows to climb out of and fight my way back from, no highs to bring a tear to my eye or a lively kick to the finish. What transpired is what I set out to do I guess - get it done. We ran conservatively, ate voraciously and didn't blink when 70 year olds passed us or "cut off time" was mentioned. (Ok, maybe there was a nanosecond of panic). In essence, it was the most anti-climactic trail race I've ever done.

This is no dig to the race itself, the organizers, Tina or our friends who came out to support us. That was all great. Having company for 37+ miles, seeing Dana and Troy at every other aid station with cheery enthusiasm and encouragement, having Dana drop back from pacing Tina to see me through the last 13 miles, being surprised by Jessica in the last mile or so and then having Jeff and Cheyenne waiting at the finish line - it was absolutely perfect. I think I even had a smile on my face for most of the day.

And the course was spectacular. We ran in the quiet stillness of early morning on rolling terrain along a mist-covered Lake Chabot and got maybe 8 or so miles in before the sun first reached us. Even with the sun out, temps were cooperative and the trails soft from recent rains as we wound our way through forest-covered fireroad and open, undulating singletrack. The views, although we generally had no idea what direction we were facing, were spectacular. Wide, sweeping vistas across ridgetops and overlapping hillsides as far as you could see. And the 2nd half of the course? Less climbing than the first, a negative split, a gentle, rolling 3 mile finish. All great.

Pic courtesy of Dana Katz. Heading home.

So my takeaway is this. In hindsight perhaps I shouldn't have tried to tack my first 50 miler on after Transrockies to get the most bang for my training miles. Maybe it should have just been its own goal with its own journey to get to; logging the miles, the speedwork, playing with nutrition, working through fatigue, through too little sleep and all of life's usual obstacles outside of running. Maybe I truly missed the journey and months of preparation to get to something that loomed so formidably: my first 50 miler. I tried to speed-date and missed the courtship.

But it's also this. Perhaps I should've had more faith in my inherent ability and mental tenacity. Some say ultra runs are 50/50 training and mental preparation or even 40/60. I fell short of my training plans but somewhere along the way that started to impact my fortitude. I spent the week before the race scouring the web googling what to expect in your first 50 miler and how to prepare for your first 50 miler. I became obsessed with finding Bryon Powell's book Forward Relentless Progress because I hoped it would reveal some gem of wisdom, something I could cling to that would bolster my diminished resolve. I was on the short end of self-confidence and insofar as running goes, that meant I was in unchartered territory.

Of course, what stood out the most in Bryon's book as I speed-read it the night before the race: While finding the ideal balance of muscularity and leanness may be a higher mark than many are willing to shoot for, it brings into focus the quickest and often easiest way that many ultrarunners could improve their running - by safely losing weight.

Yes, I've known this all along. But I digress.

Am I proud of what I've accomplished? Of course. I'm certainly not disappointed. But there's a void where normally an exclamation point would go. I did it vs I did it!! Even at the finish, I felt as if my friends' excitement for me was greater than my own. In any dream scenario I could conjure up, the situation couldn't have been better - a friend to run with who kept me entertained and smiling; friends who spent their Saturday getting up at an ungoldy hour to see us off and then drove from point to point just to see us pass for a minute or so; friends who descended on the finish line, cameras ready, with big cheers and warm praise. I almost felt undeserving.

Pic courtesy of Dana Katz. Friends ARE for the finish line!

So that's what's swimming around in my head after Dick Collins. Maybe time will yield another perspective. I'll definitely do another 50 miler. Maybe even another Dick. And so the journey begins anew...