It’s official—50 Mile finisher for the second time right here! It was a pretty epic weekend at Chain O’Lakes for the Indiana Trail 50. As ultras tend go, this was a mix of joy and pain. I felt good coming in with everything I learned running this race in 2019, and thought I was fit enough to take anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour off my 2019 time, but the weather presented some very different challenges.
My husband Louie and I got to the park the night before the race with a rented camper and both of our dogs in tow. We missed all the pre-race meetings and fun, but arrived just in time for a last minute packet pick-up. We settled in for an easy dinner in the camper with a backdrop of light rain. I slept lightly and occasionally woke to the sound of rain hitting the camper roof.
Despite the poor sleep, I popped up at my 4:40am alarm. Louie made oats and coffee while I got dressed and sorted all my gear. I felt calm and ready.
To make the day feel more manageable, I decided to tackle the race in 10 miles segments. The plan:
Miles 1-10: Start slow, focus on fueling, enjoy the cool morning and sunrise
Miles 11-20: Stay relaxed, float on the hills
Miles 21-30: Let the fight begin, complete 1 of 2 loops, focus on form
Miles 31-40: Celebrate the 50K mark, find joy
Miles 41-50: Just keep moving and finish!
I started off more conservatively than in 2019, hoping that meant I would have more to give in the later miles. The morning was a bit humid, but cool and comfortable enough. While I meant to practice running trails at night (whoops) I at least had some experience with it this time and knew to expect the first 6-7 miles in the dark. One of my mistakes before was struggling to fuel in the dark, since I was so worried about watching my step. I ate a Honey Stinger chew as I was crossing the start line and drank Tailwind early and often to make sure that didn’t happen again.
In keeping with my theme of racing recently, there was some flooding on the course. I was running and chatting with a small group when we came upon the first patch of shin-deep standing water. One of the folks said, “Here we go, ladies!” and we charged onward. Splashing through was all fun and adventure at that point, but a small wedge of worry lodged in my brain about what this meant for the rest of the course.
The first birdsong was a welcome alert to the coming daylight. Knowing the sun would soon follow lifted my spirits. I was running within myself and despite the wet feet, full of joy.
The sunlight showed off the changing leaves and the steam rising up off the lake and fields. I started spotting mushrooms everywhere. There were tons of giant puffballs, and plenty of shrooms I don’t recognize. It was a truly beautiful morning to be out on the trail. The first 10 miles were gone in a flash.
The next block was all about staying loose and not adding unnecessary tension to my body early on. I have a bad tendency to put the brakes on during downhills in a way that destroys my quads. For training, I added a lot of hill repeats to practice, saying to myself float, float, float. The hills felt pretty smooth, and it gave me confidence to have another piece of the puzzle somewhat worked out. Dead quads would not be the thing that held me back this time like they did during the Tecumseh Trail 50K.
Just as my feet started to dry, we came upon another spot of water. Only ankle deep this time, but no way around. Spolier alert: there were a couple more flooded spots on the 25 mile loop, and my feet stayed wet the whole day. There were a few spots with gloopy, gooey, slick mud, but those were short and manageable.
At some point during this block, some rain popped up. A fellow working on his second attempt at 100 miles said: “This is unexpected!” and I said: “My feet are already wet, the rest of me may as well be too!” The cool rain felt refreshing, and the tree canopy overhead kept it from being a real soaker. I’d take those conditions over heat any day.
During 2019, I relied on Louie meeting me throughout the course for support. He biked all over the park and it was amazing and gave me a boost every time I saw him. With the dogs, I knew he wouldn’t be able to do that, so I needed to rely on aid stations and drop bags. This ended up making me feel like more a part of the race to interact more with the volunteers. If you ask anyone about IT100, one of the first things you’ll hear is the awesomeness the people. It’s true, and then some. Amazing people all around. The aid stations had quite the spread: grilled cheese, peanut butter sandwiches, wraps, soup, Pop Tarts, fruit, all the best Fun Size candy, Oreos, pickles, chips…
I can’t really remember when I ate all of these things, but I ate like a champ. I may not be remembering everything, but I know I had:
8 salted boiled golden potatoes
4 blueberry fig bars
1/3 of a cherry Pop Tart
1/3 of a peanut butter Clif bar
2 Fun Size Twix
2 Fun Size Peanut M&Ms
1/2 grilled cheese sandwich
1 pickle
1 cup of chicken broth
3 Honey Stinger pink lemonade chews
5 oz. ginger ale
2.5 17 oz. bottles of Tailwind
For me, partaking in the aid station food helped in getting more calories than relying on what I could carry. I feel lucky because I know not everyone can handle just eating whatever. Eating and slow running might be one of my super powers.
Through mile 20 I was on target to finish in about 10 and a half hours, if I could maintain pace. Unfortunately, this was when it started heating up. The exposed grassy sections with full sun beating down were absolutely brutal. I tried to focus on any bit of cooling breeze and just keep moving. My pace slipped, but I still felt pretty good.
The plan was to start fighting to keep steady for 21-30, but the reality became more fight to keep running at all. I started with walking all the stairs and boardwalks (because they were super slick) and only the biggest climbs. But now I needed more walk breaks. My focus on form was a constant battle, as my shoulders wanted to slouch forward and my head kept dropping.
I was looking down a lot to scout for the gazillions of black walnuts littering the course. I’m pretty sure this was a bumper year for walnuts (I don’t actually recall them at all from 2019!). If you don’t know them, they’re encased in an outer green hull near the size and color of a tennis ball. Thankfully I managed to not roll an ankle on one. At one point during this stretch, the wind picked up while I was surrounded by walnut trees and the sound of them crashing down all around me was like a walnut apocalypse.
I felt slower than I wanted, but good and joyful through about mile 32. By then I knew there would be no 50 mile PR for me, but I was at peace with that.
It was around this point I came upon a runner who was resting on a bench clutching his knee. His 100 attempt was over, but he needed to make it to the next aid station. I gave him a Biofreeze pack to take the edge off so he could walk it in, and I hope it helped.
On the second loop when I came back around to the first “water feature” I landed in a spot that was like a little sinkhole. I had a small moment of panic but thank goodness my shoe stayed on. I think losing a shoe in mud is on many ultra runners fear lists. I hadn’t developed any hotspots or blisters, but my feet just felt raw all over and they became my limiting factor. Maybe I should have swapped socks out. I had some in each drop bag, but it seemed pointless knowing the next flooded spot would be just around the bend.
I had a hard time finding the joy I was supposed to be looking for during this stretch. Where I did find it was mostly through other runners and the volunteers. Everyone was so encouraging and that helped a lot when things went south. The race organizers also placed funny and sometimes inspirational signs throughout the woods, and those helped too. So it’s to be torture? featuring Westley from Princess Bride was my favorite.
For miles 41-50 my one goal was to just keep moving. Knowing this was my last section gave me a little charge. In long distances like this, I’ve learned that energy comes and goes, and to be ready to seize the moment when that next wind comes.
Mile 42 was the snake mile. I spooked a little garter snake who was about to cross my path, then less than a quarter mile later spotted a very small, very quick pink snake squiggling across the trail. I had to leap over it and wondered what in the heck it was, as I’d never seen anything like it. In looking it up after, it was almost definitely a common wormsnake, one of the smallest snakes in Indiana which according to the article I read are hardly seen because they are subterranean! Nature is cool, and I’m glad to know those little ones exist.
I was still alternating running and walking, but it was all just so slow. Every step hurt. One woman told me to think of a big climb as a tickle, and that gave me a much needed chuckle on many of the last hills. Just a tickle.
12 and a half hours of wet socks really did my feet in. I don’t use this word lightly, but the best way I can describe it is trauma. When I finally made it to the finish, I could barely accept the medal offered to me my retiring RD Mike Pfefferkorn. I meant to thank him for all his heart and soul put into that event over the years and to celebrate the finish, but all I could think about was getting out of my shoes and off my feet.
Louie and the dogs were there to greet me at the finish. I quickly collected my drop bags, got another half grilled cheese and some more ginger ale from the main tent, then we started the walk back to the camp site. It was just a bit more than a half mile and that little bit of walking nearly broke me. I was so ready to be done.
Back at the camper, I couldn’t even get my shoes off. Louie had to pull them off for me. My feet weren’t as bad as I feared, though it looks like I may lose my first toenail. Severe pruning led to some deep creases that were quite sore and my skin was extremely puffy and leathery. Airing out my feet and kicking my legs up while I sipped a vanilla Tailwind helped start the recovery process. Louie built a campfire and cooked pizzas on the grill for us. He is my hero for being the best camper/driver/dog wrangler/supporter.
When I finished, I had been in such bad shape, I didn’t bother to check my results. There was no wifi at the campsite, and I hadn’t been able to get internet access anywhere in the park. I didn’t know I came in 10th female until my coach texted me. I thought I’d be one of the last ones coming in, so that was a nice surprise (though it was a pretty small field). My official time was 12:24:08, more than an hour longer than my first 50-mile finish.
The next morning, I felt much better than I expected. I actually slept well and we got a solid 9 hours. We made oats and coffee in the camper, then walked to the finish line. Last time we just drove to a pizza joint then home right after the race. Staying at the park is the way to go. I loved getting to see a few folks finish their 100. There were 60+ people still out on the course when we walked over at 8:45 a.m.
In reflecting, mental strength to push through the tough spots is the next big piece of my ultra puzzle. Pre-pandemic, I had more grit. There are probably others things, but that stands out as my biggest opportunity.
This wasn’t the race day I wanted, but it was special in a lot of ways and I’m glad I was able to push through and get it done. IT50 2021. The year of flooding, giant puffballs, grilled cheese, hill tickles, walnuts, and snakes.
The details:
Indiana Trail 50 Mile at Chain O’Lakes State Park in Albion, Indiana
October 9, 2021
Weather: Dark and 56 with 97% humidity at the start; light morning rain; then sunny and into the mid-70s
Finish time: 12:24:08, 10th place female