Lessons from the Parent of a Retired Collegiate Athlete

Proud of my retired athlete

 

One of the greatest things I saw during the 2024 Olympic coverage wasn’t world athletes smashing records, or the USWNT taking back that Gold (that was pretty damn awesome), but it was Hyundai's commercial “It’s Ok”. The company shines a spotlight on youth sports and children’s inner emotional struggles surrounding their current sport. I have linked the commercial below and urge you to take 60secs to watch it. Spoiler alert: the kids pictured are burnt out, afraid of disappointing their parents, and have lost the love of their sport. As summer is coming to a close, I am seeing the high school & college athletic fields fill up with student athletes training and preparing for fall sport tryouts. I’ll be honest, it makes me nostalgic for my own days logging hours of training on the field hockey and lacrosse field. However, as the parent of a retired college soccer player, I am reminded of everything that I learned the day my daughter Marleigh told me she was changing colleges and ending her 14 year soccer career. Were Karl and I devastated? I wouldn’t use that word, as it clearly implies disappointment. We were sad! Sad because we absolutely loved “to watch you play” as we would shout from the sidelines. We watched her pick flowers & eat oranges on the field as a 5yo all the way to her sprinting behind & catching a left elbow in the eye from a sasquatch of a player in U18 club soccer. Poor baby still has a damn scar above her eye from that broad! We really did LOVE to watch her play. She was freaking good, real good. Marleigh was always the first to the field, the one helping her fellow teammates, and she hustled her ass off every single minute of training. But…

This is what Burn Out looks like

 She got burnt out! The love of the game and the sport had drifted away little by little over the years. I absolutely do not miss the days of her coming home from a game in tears because she felt like she let her Coach down. Or the phone calls from college telling me that the Coach was once again going to start the girl that did drugs & partied every night over her, even though they both performed the same on the field. The three of us had these dreams that things were going to be different for her as a college student athlete. But the coach sucked, the teammates didn’t look out for each other or put in effort on the soccer field. Backdoor team politics still reigned. She was done, and you know what, so were we! We all have to remember that youth sports are big business. Parents shell out thousands of dollars on club travel teams, private training sessions, and six figure student loan debt just so these kids go on to the next level in their sport. Colleges & Universities profit off of bodies on the field and butts in the seats. Rosters of 100+ kids equal … $5,500,000.00 in tuition for the average D3 private school teams. Let’s not even talk about the craziness of D1 athletics. With the new school year upon us, let us remember to take time out to actually TALK to our kids about their participation in athletics. Have a stress-free conversation about how they feel about the sport they are playing. Do they still enjoy themselves? Is there something else out there that they have always wanted to try but were afraid to let you down? Tell them that you are PROUD of them no matter what they do. Signing a full ride athletic scholarship at a Big 10 school, amazing. Stepping away from a sport they have grown to hate to take up Art, also awesome. As a parent, we should be proud no matter what they pursue. Let’s get away from the language of “quitting” and maybe try “moving on from” or “trying something new” and our family’s personal favorite, “retired”.

I know that I am incredibly proud of my retired soccer player, and I always make sure that my kid knows that. Do I make comments about missing soccer every now and then when a picture of her playing shows up on the tv photo slideshow, of course I do. But today I enjoy spending time with my daughter doing different things (Yay Ultras), and keep my fingers crossed for some athletic grandkids. Because you know Granny Jill is gonna get HYPE on that sideline!

Grindstone 100 DNF

I hoped to return to this neglected blog with a story of triumph and victory at the Grindstone 100, however, that is not the case. Unfortunately, I did not cross that finish line and in all honesty, it has was all my own damn fault.

How the Grindstone 100 ended!

Let's backtrack to where we left off in March at the Terrapin 50k. I finished a very strong race and was heading into Promise Land 50k the next month with newfound confidence and energy. That race went OK. It was hot as holy hell with miles of quad-busting climbs all while little gnats circled my head whispering obscenities into my ears. I gritted it out and finished the race ready for a much-needed pre-summer break in my training. After a few weeks of regrouping, I doubled down on my training for Grindstone 100, the 4th race in the Beast Series, set for September 16th. I was ready to put in the work and get that third 100 mile finish. 

Training in the summer is my worst nightmare. I hate the heat and tend to sweat more than the average person. I can't ever seem to carry enough water or apply enough lube. But I was determined to nail those issues in my training and get to that starting line ready for a fight. I trained weekend after weekend on the GS100 course. Many times, I logged miles on ungroomed trails that were covered in hip (sometimes shoulder) high weeds, briars and stinging nettle. I literally left my blood, sweat and tears out there training on that course. I practiced navigating the treacherous rock scrambles by headlamp, and powering up the steepest climb, Little Bald, in the midday heat. I tested out all of my gear, picking clothes that didn't suck during training runs, and foods that stayed down and keep me moving. In total I estimate around 1000 miles logged and over 100k feet of vertical training. On paper, I was fucking ready. 

This is how my summer training looked!

Race day came, along with a 6pm start. I slept in, ate a good breakfast and lunch. Had all of my gear prepped and ready, drop bags filled with everything I may need. Each bag had my go to nutrition, Long Haul powder, Spring Energy gels, Stroope Waffles, and Instant Mashed Potatoes*. I calculated exactly how many calories I needed to consume per hour and had my watch set to alert me every 35 minutes. My crew and pacers were prepped and ready to rock and roll. (Karl, Jason Ultraman, and Drew Midland). I had a rockstar team and we were going to crush this thing. Karl and I headed to Camp Shenandoah for packet pickup, race brief and drop bag drop off around 12:30. I placed my three drop bags in the designated piles on the lawn under the midday sun and didn't think of them again. After the meeting we headed back to our RV for me to get changed, do the final prep and pick up Jason. We would arrive back to camp with a hour to start, energy and excitement high. 

My amazing Crew (Karl & Jason)

 

I lined up mid-pack next to the badass Emma S. who is a junior in college and also competing in the Beast Series. We chatted a bit before the start and the conversation calmed my prerace jitters. The clock struck 6 and we were on our way. This race is known for its relentless course, with insane climbs and gnarly descents. While offering little to no "runnable" flat sections. My plan was to stay smooth and controlled in the first half to save my legs for the back 50. The race is an out and back, so once you conquer the course on the outbound, you know what is in store for the return trip. I stuck with a group of 5-6 people that were cruising at a safe and conservative pace. I tucked in ready for the first big climb. Out came my trekking poles and I was ready to dig into this mountain. Unfortunately I found myself climbing the stupidest mountain ever (Elliot Knob) behind the biggest know-it-all tech guy from CA. HE WOULD NOT STOP TALKING! This would be the first big challenge of my day, and I did not pass the test! I let him get into my head and turned on the gas, powering past him up this 15-20% grade climb. Clearly NOT saving my legs for shit. I was finally able to only hear the subtle annoyance of his voice as I crested the top of the mountain. Touched the fence, quick pee, and I was on my way back down. 

The next section to Dry Branch Gap, I got lined up with several guys that were taking the rocky sections nice and smooth and safe. I felt like I could have gone faster but thought about my vertical K that I just sprinted earlier and settled in with the chill crowd. I was nailing my nutrition and adding yummy additions from the aid stations. All systems good, feeling strong coming into the Dowells Draft aid station at mile 22. This would be the first time I saw Karl and Jason as well as my drop bag. I came upon Karl who was totally surprised at my arrival. He said I was an hour ahead of schedule and he was just starting to get my refills ready. I told him no worries, and that I would sit for a second to get myself together. At this point I was drenched in sweat. Honestly, I was drenched at mile 5. Clark the RD told us at the brief that we were so lucky this year as the humidity was very low. Haha, it was low at noon, but not at midnight! I grabbed a towel from Karl and tried to blot the moisture from my compression shorts, as I was irritatingly sopping wet. Jason grabbed my nutrition bag from my drop bag, including my mashed potatoes* and I was on my way. I would not see the guys again until mile 37 at N River Gap. 

The Elevation Profile so I couldn't forget the suffering!

I was still moving well, and spirits were still high until... I started eating my second pouch of potatoes and they tasted kinda funny. I figured it was my tastebuds revolting from all of the other sugary food I was eating, so I just downed the rest, chasing with a big gulp of water. About 30 mins later into the next climb I felt my stomach revolt. I had to find a place to shit and I had to do it NOW. The trail was either a narrow stretch on the side of a mountain or surrounded by nettle. I found the first break I could, turned off my headlamp, and had the first of many poops in the woods. Sidenote. Last 100mi race, Rim to River in 2020, I had no stomach issues but peed constantly since I was out there for so many hours. I came home with some pretty bad butt chafe and was sure it was because I didn't have good wipes. So, this time I was going to be prepared. Well, I was prepared for 2 trips to the side of the trail, not 8. For the next few hours, I was ducking in and out of the trail. By the time I got to the NRG 1 aid station I was definitely getting dehydrated and was chafing like a MF. I meet the guys, told them about the poopy taters and sat down ready to reassess. I wiped, dried and Vaselined my undercarriage to the best of my ability on the side of a very well-traveled trail. I was hella bummed that my only savory fuel was ruined but would supplement with snacks from the amazing aid stations. 

I left the river a little down but refreshed and ready to climb the even stupider Little Bald. Seven miles of technical, back, and quad breaking assent. I had trained on this climb two different weekends and knew it would be a beast but had all the confidence in the world that I would beat it. By the time I finally got to the top I could barely walk without my ENTIRE undercarriage burning like flames in hell. I tried to adjust my shorts, adjust my stride, anything to allow me to move without pain. Nothing worked. I had another 2 miles of rolling mountain jeep road to navigate before the next aid station. The sun was coming up, the wildflowers looked amazing, but all I could think about was quitting. The pain was unbearable. I alternated a sad jog with shuffling steps to get to that Little Bald AS. When I got there all I wanted was lube. I grabbed the biggest handful, ducked behind a truck, and layered a good inch of Vaseline between my legs and cheeks. I waddled out, ate a quesadilla, and told the runners around me that I was probably going to drop at the halfway. Everyone tried so hard to convince me otherwise. Even the loudmouth jerk from the first climb was there trying to salvage my race. I nodded in silence and went on my way. 

Top of Little Bald from my training run

 

I had another 6.5 miles until I would be at the halfway, see Karl and pickup Jason as my pacer. I couldn't wrap my head around how on earth I was going to make it to the aid station, let alone, get to my car so that I could fucking quit. I was alone on the dumbest stretch of jeep road, shitting on the side of the trail, crying to myself that I knew my day was over. I kept going back and forth in my head about sticking it out. Walking another 50 miles with bloody nether regions, all in the quest to conquer this Beast Series. Pride, ego and will had hold of me and were not letting me go. I finally made the call to quit. I screamed at the top of my lungs, and when my food alarm went off, I laughed, said "Fuck You" and quit eating. I then called Karl once I got service at the top of the mountain and told him we were done. He tried so hard to pump me up, telling me he would get me fixed up and that I could finish this thing, he made a valiant effort. But he knew I was done. The tone of my voice, the description of my wrecked body, it was time to DNF. 

I was sad shuffling down the 2.5 mile asphalt road toward halfway, head down, tears on my cheeks, when I looked up and there was Karl and Jason. They climbed the road to come and walk me in. At that moment it hit me that it really was over. I felt such sadness at my defeat, but also such a feeling of love as I hobbled down this road to the car. I finally hit the bottom, content with my decision, and told the kind volunteer that I was done. He then stood up and screamed at the top of his lungs to the HAM radio guy, "We got a DNF over here, number 116". I laughed so hard at the public announcement of my failure, screaming back, "we got a loser over here"! I made my way over to the car, sat down, disrobed, and climbed into the back of the car ready to get the fuck off of that mountain. 

 *Potato thoughts. I had trained all summer with my taters, but always made them from fresh boiled potatoes or instant with water. When Karl and I were prepping my taters the night before we followed the directions and made them with milk, as directed, not even thinking. However, those potatoes sat in my drop bag in the midday sun, baking and rotting. Inevitability the demise of my day, my shitty, shitty day, was a dumb mistake. Milk in the potatoes. 

How I SHOULD have ran the race, SANS PANTS!

 

I am now out of the Beast Series, with my first ever DNF. It has been a very hard emotional journey dealing with this result. More thoughts on that later. I would like to thank my amazing husband Karl for selflessly helping me pursue my outrageous goals. Training with me on dumb trails, hot long runs, and sprained ankles. He took amazing care of me all night long during the race, driving hundreds of miles all on less sleep than me. Thank you to Jason Ultraman who drove all the way up to pace me and ended up running zero miles. (Haha payback's a bitch Jason). Thank you for helping crew all night and sacrificing your weekend to help me chase this stupid goal. And to Drew, who never even made it out to the trail, I'm sorry friend. One day in the future I promise we will get to run/shuffle some mountain trails together. To Clark Zealand, and all of the incredible volunteers, thank you for an amazing and unforgettable race. I am not sure I need to come back to chase this buckle, but if I do, I know I will be cared for by some of the best.

No Finish Line Pic - No Buckle

Chasing The Beast - Terrapin Mountain 50K

 

The Bib Mugshot - A Requirement

Now this race scared me a little. The second in the Beast Series, Terrapin Mountain 50K is where shit starts to get real. Holiday Lake was like a teaser warm up with its rolling hills and a mere 2000ft of climbing. At Terrapin, oh we were going to climb that much right out of the gate before we even get to the first aid station. This race was going to be a true test of my mountain fitness and I was eager to see how things shook out. Strava Link

The race begins at the Sedalia Center with the amazing Blue Ridge Mountains as a back drop. Runners are able to come up on Friday evening and camp out in the grassy parking lot prior to the race. We took advantage of the ample space and drove up in the RV, finding a nice roomy spot in the back to park our "medium sized" RV. Having my queen sized bed and own bathroom would prove finer accommodations than we had in the Dinghy at Holiday Lake. We arrived around 6pm and I grabbed my race swag bag containing my bib and the beautiful yearly collectable Terrapin Mtn Race mug. We headed back to the RV for some delicious pre-race pizza and an early night to bed. *There was some cell signal at the race closer to the building so we were able to check in with Marleigh and find out about her soccer game that day. A nice 7-0 win for the Crusaders!

Beautiful Blue Ridge Mtn Sunset from Camp

 

This race started at 7am due to day light savings time, so I actually was able to sleep in compared to my normal morning alarm. I was up around 5:45 and saw a few little headlamps bopping around in the field. It was SO much nicer getting race ready in the RV. Karl helped me fill all of my bottles and bladder, while I was able to get dressed like a human. VS a cat in a sock like at HL50k. The weather all week was calling for high 50's and rain at the start, warming up to the 70's and cloudy by mid day. Deciding on clothes is always the biggest gamble at races. One wrong move and your day can be over. We woke up to barely a sprinkle and the radar didn't look like much rain was on the way. So I started in a short sleeve and shorts. I was torn on whether or not to wear a tank top, and I can gladly say my choices were perfect. We headed over to the start with 15mins to go for a quick stretch and warm up. Everyone was milling about under the pavilion ready to get started.

Terrapin Mountain 50k Ready

 

I lined up mid cattle herd, so that I wouldn't be stupid and go out too quickly. I was able to meet an IG friend Sarah, who recently completed the Beast and has been a total inspiration. The gong sounded at exactly 7am and we were off down the country road heading toward the mountains.  I knew that there was a 1.25mi stretch of road & gravel road leading us to the beginning of the trails and planned to run at an easy warm up pace. Once you hit the gate at the forest you start your first big climb from mile 1.5 - 4 gaining about 2000ft right off the bat. The trail was nice and wide to allow for passing and maneuvering all of the very wet and slippery rocks. This climb was a GRIND and everyone just locked in for the hour to the top at the Camping Gap aid station. I was trying to alternate running and hiking on this climb but it was damn hard. I didn't want to blow all of my fitness in the first few miles and have nothing left for the other 26 miles of racing ahead. I made it to the top in 58mins which was right at my 1hr goal, so I was happy that I was pacing well. 

Mile 2 and CLIMBING

 

Once we reached the top we were treated to a nice 5mi cruise down Hunting Creek Road on some gravel fire road. I hooked up with two guys at the top and we headed down together at a nice downhill pace. I did NOT want to fly too fast on this downhill and blow out my quads like I did back at Rim to River 100. (That resulted in walking the last 40 miles of a 100. Long ass day!) So sticking with the fellas kept my pace in check and also helped pass the miles with some good conversation.  I usually do not run with others in a race. I'm not a asshole, it just stresses me out. This time it didn't and I was glad that we were able to share some miles. Once we got to the bottom aid station, it was time for a LONG 10 mile climb back up. We did a little lollypop loop and were back on Hunting Creek for the climb back to Camping Gap for the second time. During this time the weather became pretty ominous and a light mist and heavy fog settled in. I was able to stay pretty warm but the mist turned to drizzle and I heard that it was sleeting at one point at the Camping Gap aid station. 

 

Race Friends are actually FUN (cred Jay Profit)

I grabbed some hot broth at the CG aid at mile 15 and headed on toward the White Oak Ridge (WHOR) Loop. What a great name, because it was fitting for this part of the course. It was a single track trail through many freshly cut vines, weeds and briars. With the thick fog and the drizzly rain I totally felt like I was racing Barkley. Kinda felt a little badass! LOL I was alone, very ALONE, on this section and had no clue where I was at in the race as far as placing. Since the start I had passed maybe two or three ladies and a few fellas. The WHOR loop sent us up and back down to CG with a nice long downhill section. Here I was finally able to see other runners on the way back down and able to get a gauge on how I was running.  I passed by several strong looking ladies on the trail back to the aid station so I felt confident that I was racing well. I snagged another cup of warm broth (so good) and was on my way to climb to the Terrapin Mtn Summit. 

WHOR Loop Looking Very Barkley

 

This climb started around mile 22 and was a straight vertical ass kicker to the top in about .7mi with 600ft of climbing. I was in the flatlanders death position with my hands on my knees, my head bobbing up and down and expletives flying out of my mouth left and right. I knew this part was going to be a doozy, but holy hell, it was a hard climb. I passed by another gentleman that remarked that living in Virginia Beach didn't do him any favors. I tried to laugh, couldn't because I was breathing like a dead woman, and was only able to get out, "same, me too"! I pushed ahead knowing this was the last big push of climbing and then I was home free. (Or so I thought). Once at the top I bypassed the overlook because, well FOG, and was ready to take on the grueling downhill ahead. 

This downhill section was real damn scary on the elevation profile. 2.5 miles of sheer drop with about a 2100ft decent. All single track, on wet muddy rocks with switchbacks ready to end your life. A girl came bouncing past me saying that she got lost at the top. I let her by because well, she was essentially already ahead of me earlier in the race, and she was moving like a damn mountain goat. I tried to stay on her heels and keep the pace, flying by dudes left and right. (That shit felt good, real GOOD!) I was trying hard to stay in control, grabbing and swinging from tree trunks to slow me down. Sooner or later she was out of sight but I promised myself to keep up the pace. Legs were a little sore, but my feet felt like they had smoke coming out of them. I finally landed, safely, at the Terrapin Mtn Lane aid station, the last on the course, ready to cruise the last 5.5 miles home. 

The Elevation Profile, Mile 25-30 not bad right?

 The final stretch on the elevation profile looked like a breeze and the course map looked like we dipped in and out about 11 times along the side of the mountain. We would turn away from the mountain for a short smooth climb and then turn and descend toward the mountain and a water crossing. I did this eleven times, and seriously thought it would never end. I tried hard to alternate hiking and running on the climbing sections, and splashed hard through water each and every time. My feet were on fire running in my Brooks Cascadia GTX's and I realized that I definitely should have chosen a different shoe for this warm time of year. I kept my eyes behind me on this entire section making sure no one was on my heels. 

I finally hit the section of trail we entered the mountain on and knew that it was all downhill on the road back to Sedalia. I tried to fly as fast as possible on the trail section but the rocks were much wetter from the early rain and slick as hell. I cruised through one more deep water crossing and down the rocks and mud to hit the gate for the gravel road. Down, down, down I went trying to push the pace as fast as my quads would allow. I felt like I was running 7min miles, but was actually at a 8:17 pace. Once I hit the pavement and the last stretch of road I heard a yell behind me and saw a chick on the approach. Oh Hell NO! I kicked it HARD toward that arch as fast as my tired little legs would go. I crossed the finish line 35 seconds ahead of her and ran right into Karl's arms! I immediately sat my tired ass on the grass proud as fuck of my finish.

Yay, I beat a 4 year old!

 

My finish time was 6:27:13, right under my A goal of going under 6:30! I finished 1st Masters and 8th overall. They handed me my Patagonia finisher shirt and yummy Terrapin cookie as I laid on the grass catching my breath. After a few minutes I got up and got my picture with Clark Zeland, the RD for three of the Beast Series races. Told him thank you for an awesome race, and that I would see him again for Grindstone and MMTR. (Results were not posted until the following day, so I had no idea I was first Masters. When I got home I saw my result and emailed Clark about missing my Masters award, a nice Orange Mud embroidered towel. He said I snuck off too quick and he couldn't find me to give me my towel. It is now on the way via mail. Thanks Clark, you are awesome.)

RD Clark Zeland

 

I tried a little different fueling strategy for this race based on some info I heard in a podcast with Chris Roberts, the founder of Long Haul Sports Nutrition. A brand I recently started training with and was excited to try on race day. In all of my previous races I relied solely on solid food and gels for nutrition. After reading many race reports and listening to Chris, I found out I was missing the mark on adding liquid nutrition and calories. So I used my normal waffles and Spring gels every 45 mins in the race, but added in bottles of Long Haul. I was constantly sipping on a bottle containing 200 calories, trying to finish a bottle every 2hrs. This was a GAME CHANGER! I really felt like I had so much more energy due to the increase in calories. I think I might have even gone a little to long on switching bottles and will try to switch them sooner during Promise Land.

Speaking of Promise Land, I have exactly five weeks until race number three. If this race is a predictor of my racing fitness and ability, I am pumped for what I can do in April. I also snagged myself a badass lady crusher coach who has the knowledge and experience I need to help me train and race strong in this series. (More on Coach Rachel in a later post)

So to bring this race recap to a close, I am so happy with how this Beast Series has started off and feel like 2022 might be one of the best years of racing of my life. My results at Terrapin gave me a huge confidence boost and has most certainly propelled me into the next race with confidence and courage. LFG!

Beast Series Race 2 - DONE!

Chasing the Beast - Holiday Lake 50k++

What is this Beast you speak of? The first mention I ever saw about the Beast Series was in 2018 on Instagram by this badass chick Shannon Howell. She was going to race 6 hard as hell Virginia ultras throughout the year, part of the "Beast Series" in honor of her 40th birthday. I was in total awe and admiration. I wanted to do something epic like that for my 40th. These were some of the most historic, iconic, and gritty East Coast races and finishing any of them was NO GUARANTEE!!! I had two years to get myself trained up & I was totally going to go for it. And then I got injured, stress reaction in my femur. Maybe 2020 wasn't the right year to go chasing big mountain races with brittle bones for legs, naw that would be stupid. And then the pandemic hit! I was so thankful that I wasn't attempting the series that year, only to be left with a totally empty race calendar and crushed dreams. I put it on the back burner, very leery about what the state of the world or running would be in 2021. It wasn't looking good. The races I had signed up for in 2020 were deferred to 2021 and would not work with the series schedule. So I packaged that dream up and put it away for one more year. 2022 was going to be my year. Marleigh would be heading to play soccer at Mary Baldwin University in Staunton in the fall and I would have tons of chances for hard mountain training when we visit her for her games. So at the end of the year I signed up for the first of six races, The Holiday Lake 50k++ on February 19th 2022. 

Those finish line feels!

Clicking register for that first race on Ultrasignup.com was so invigorating. I subsequently signed up for three more of the six total races, but had yet pulled the trigger on signing up for the actual "Beast Series" on Eco-xsports yet. See last year at Holiday Lake there was a massive ice storm. Many of my friends were not even able to make it to the start due to the dangerous conditions. Those that did get to run were treated to a day of cold misery, many dropping to the 25k distance. So my plan was this, get to that start line, finish the first one, and then it was go time. I HAD to register! I finished & I registered. Fuck Yeah! So here's how the race went... Holiday Lake is a beautiful Virginia State Park and home to the race start at the 4H Center.. Lodges, bunkhouses, restrooms & showers all surround the start finish line banner. It felt like ultra running summer camp at packet pickup on Friday, seeing old friends, and making new friends. We planned to drive up & car camp in our "Dinghy" (our Honda Pilot that we use to dinghy tow behind our motor home) as to avoid any race morning travel issues. We bought a nice brand new air mattress made for SUV's and packed a ridiculous amount of blankets with the forecast calling for 24 degrees. It was a tight squeeze & quite the scene watching us through the illuminated car windows getting ourselves settled for the first night car camping. Thankfully we had a pretty restful nights sleep and awoke to our 5am alarm for the 6:30am start. (Pro-tip: there is zero cell reception but there is wifi, just check inside the lodge for the login. We didn't figure this out until post race.)

Mug Shots in the back of the "Dinghy"

 Now if you thought watching us through the windows going to sleep was funny, let me tell you, you ain't seen nothing yet. The two of us refused to exit the vehicle on race morning until the absolute last minute so that we wouldn't freeze our asses off. So two grown adults awkwardly attempted to get dressed for an ultra in a 3 x 7 ft confinement. We looked like two cats trapped in a sock trying to wrestle our way out. "Where's my socks?" and "Move your ass" could be heard from the steamy dinghy. It was a delight. Nonetheless, we got our shit together and made our way to the bathrooms for a pit stop and the lodge for pre-race activities. 

One of the things that I love the most about ultras is the feel before a race. It is so dramatically different from that of a road race. The lodge was filled with around 300+ people, conversation and laughter, meeting new people and running into local run friends at the start line. I live for those 15 minutes pre-race. A quick race brief & national anthem and we were off. 

Pre Race Lodge Fun w/ All the Cool Kids

One important thing I am missing before we go running off into the woods. What to wear?? The good thing about ultras is that you most certainly have the opportunity to change clothes if you chose to, so no decision is mandatory. However, you want to reduce or eliminate the need for that in shorter races. The starting temps were around 25 with feels like temp of 17. We would have a guaranteed water crossing at a depth ranging from ankles to thighs. Temps would be rising into the 50's midday so that threw us for a loop. We decided on shorts with ripoff waterproof pants, short & long sleeve shirt plus a light wind shell, gloves & hat at the start. It ended up being a perfect choice.

All the clothes & gear

 When the race starts, the 50k and the 25k runners start together about half a mile up a asphalt road. Then at the top, Dr. Horton stands turning the 25k to the left and the 50k to right. All of us head in our respective directions and begin our day. The conga line onto the single track wasn't too terrible, and everyone was very courteous letting runners pass. We all spread out by the first aid station at mile 4ish. This race had a nice mix of single track, jeep road and powerline running. At about the 5 mile mark Karl told me that he was having a hard time breathing and for me to push ahead. We said our good lucks and good bye's and I was on my way. The water crossing was around the 7 mile mark and was not bad at all. I was able to keep my feet pretty dry in my Brooks Cascadia GTX's and had no issues all day. 

This race is a 16.5 mile loop around the lake and into the mountains. The 50k has a few +'s after it seeing that the final distance on my watch was 32.79 miles. It is run washing machine style where you back track your second loop.  The 25k runners do only one tour around the lake in the opposite direction of the 50k runners. It was fun seeing all of my friends running the 25k coming toward us halfway through the first lap. High fives and fuck yeahs definitely filled me up. I arrived at the halfway aid station back at the lodge and knew it was time to ditch the extra clothes because it was heating up. I grabbed some food and pulled aside to quickly de-layer and stuff my clothes in my pack. In less than a minute I was back on trail and ready to finish this thing.

I saw Karl about one mile from the halfway mark. He did not look like he was having a good day. He told me breathing never got better and he was pretty sure he was going to bail. I felt horrible for him. I told him to get some food in him, take a breather, and if he still felt done, it was OK to call it a day. I gave him a quick hug and I love you, and was on my way again.  

I was doing quite a bit of leap frogging with other women in my pace group all day. Some were super strong uphill runners and I felt strong on my down hills. On the second lap my energy was starting to drain and I was finding myself walking way too much up the hills. So I dug in my tool box and pulled out a Sally McRae tip. I started counting my steps and using a ratio of run to walk steps. I counted sixty run steps on the right footfall. Then I allowed myself 30 walking steps on my left footfall. It kept my mind occupied and my legs moving. I also used a mantra of Smart, Steady, Strong all day. Dividing up the race into three 11 mile sections. I wanted to run really smart in the beginning, not going out too fast and using up all of my fitness. In the middle I wanted to remain steady.  Keep the pace, keep moving and don't quit. For the final 11 I committed to staying strong. Keep my motivation high and my legs constantly moving strong. Hike strong and run strong. Saying these three words over and over in my head was such a huge mental victory for me throughout the day.

Finishing up the race you have to decend that same half mile asphalt road. I thought my legs were going to fall off, but I sprinted my ass as fast as I could across the finish line. I was so stoked to finish this race with a solid start to the Beast Series. Finish line high fives from the RD Brenton Swyers, and a post race picture with the legendary Dr. David Horton. I introduced myself, told him that he would be seeing a lot of me this year! 

First (of hopefully many) Horton photos

 I can't say enough about this race. Amazing organization from the RD's, kick ass volunteers from start to finish, awesome food at the aid stations, and a great post race burger and soda! (My favorite!) We got some sweet race swag, a Boco beanie, & Goodr glasses. And I have to mention, pay the extra for the hoodie, it is so comfy and soft!

So with this race in the books, 6:12:47 finishing time, 23rd female & 4th masters in a race stacked with lady crushers, I am proud to be off on my journey chasing the beast. Next up is Terrapin Mtn, 50k on 3/19 with triple the elevation of Holiday Lake. Time to get back to training and prepare to crush the next one.

Jill's Holiday Lake 50k Strava Link

Follow along as I Chase the Beast

Blogs are still cool right?

I mean, they have to be? Because this 41 year old loves a good blog, & I'm pretty damn cool!

Hi my name is Jill and I'd like to introduce you to Ultra Crazy Jill, the external manifestation of all of the crazy wrapped up in this very interesting human package. The name quite literally means that I am crazy for ultra running but also pays a very real respect to the many challenging parts of my inner psyche. (Before we start, let's clarify that I believe using the word "crazy" regarding mental health is absolutely acceptable. As a lifer of mental health challenges, I fully embrace my inner crazy! I will share more of those struggles later.) OK, back to it. I coined the name back in 2016 when I first got the wild idea that I wanted to run an ultra marathon. (Any race over 26.2 miles)

Looking UltraCrazy

I was never a runner growing up but I was always an athlete. I used to sneak two quick smokes in the parking lot before lacrosse practice and then subsequently die on our very short, one field tour of a run. Running was 100% not my favorite! Fast forward to 2010, finding myself in a new job after a forever breakup with alcohol, (more on that another day) I was welcomed into the world of running by an amazing friend and coworker, Dolo. We spent our lunch breaks hoofing it down the blvd, closely following my custom made "Couch to 5k" plan courtesy of my very experience runner friend, Dolo. I progressed quickly and fell in love madly. Signed up for all the 5k, 10k, any k races in the local area. I trained hard for my first half marathon, ran it successfully and then, nothing. I fell out of love with running just as quickly as I fell in love.

Fast forward to 2015, working for my family business with my mother as my boss. I spent the first four hours of the day trying not to pull out my hair, drink booze or punch my mother in the face. So when the clock struck 12, and not a minute later, I was out the door to escape for just 30 mins. I would walk the streets around our office to get some sort of relief. Then I remembered those lunch breaks with Dolo and how amazing I would feel after a couple miles. So I started to run again.

I ran at lunch everyday with my cousin Nicole, also a coworker, quickly adding up quarter miles to our daily totals. We would find awesome spots along the way to take fun and quirky pictures, only to race back to the office quick as possible, as to not piss off my mother. Our runs together led to signing up for races once again. Like the family favorite ASYMCA Mud Run (RIP), RVA Riverrock trail races and more. My husband Karl, my daughter Marleigh and my cousin and I bounced around from race to race, having the times of our lives.

Trail Races at Riverrock RVA 2016

The day I first stepped foot onto a trail to run isn't really cemented in my mind, although I wish it was. I am not totally sure of the specifics, probably with run club, but I absolutely remember the feeling. I loved it and every chance I got, I put my feet in the dirt to run. I began exploring every inch of all the trails printed on the map at our local First Landing State Park in Virginia Beach VA. Once I knew all of those trails by heart, I sought out all of the other little cuts in the woods that looked like a trail, but for some reason, were not on my map. Exploring each and every "secret" trail was magical. I felt like I was an explorer all alone in a magical world. This, this right here is where I belonged!

I ran my first road marathon in November of 2016, Richmond Marathon, and did a good amount of my training on those local state park trails. Living on the extreme Beast Coast at 0 sea level, you can basically train for a marathon anywhere, even on trail. During my time training, I learned about ultra marathons. I was in awe! How in the f*ck do people run further than 26.2? Wait, people actually run ONE HUNDRED MILES? Get out of town! I was so intrigued and I wanted to know more, and more, and more. Until, I decided that I too wanted to be an ultra marathoner! So I found a race, the Uwharrie 40 in NC February 2017, I got the courage to signup, I trained my ass off, ran one of the slowest & hardest races of my life, but I became a new person. An Ultra Marathoner! One who didn't turn away from something scary and challenging. I ran toward it will all of the piss, vinegar and passion that still fills my veins to this day.

So back to the subject, why a blog? Why now, six years later? Because this right here, these pages of words online from other badasses ultra runners was so influential in my running. These people that had the courage and strength before me, shared their stories and each one filled me with inspiration! I read blog after blog from runners of every walk of life. I read their struggles, their triumphs, their lessons, and their humanity. Their words taught me so much of what I know about the sport of ultra running. Random strangers posting deeply personal race reports with detailed recaps of their greatest and darkest memories on the race course. What worked and what didn't. The struggles of training, the gut wrenching failures, and the incredible victories at the finish line. Those words helped to shape me into the runner I am today.

Umstead 100 NC - April 2019 First Hundred (cred: Workshop Media)

So after 20+ ultra marathons under my belt, still very much a newbie and student of the sport, I want to give back by sharing my running journey. My lessons along the way. Ones that I hope will inspire you to push for big and outrageous goals.  I want to share stories that you can relate to and draw upon on for your own running journeys. It is with so much excitement and joy that I say, I know this is the beginning of something totally freaking awesome!  Thank you for joining me.