Monday, August 3, 2015

From couch to Tushars 93k: the 8 week training plan ;)


 

If you had asked me 8 weeks ago what I would be doing August 1st, I can GUARANTEE you that the Tushars 93k was nowhere on my radar.   In mid June I had joined several "wranglers" on a Superior to Monte Cristo summit and I can recall Aaron telling me how he was doing Tushars and asked if I had any races coming up.  I gave him a confident no, explaining how I am just getting back on the trails and if I am really lucky, I might be ready for an easy 50 miler by October.  

Those two peaks were the first of twenty-two 11,000+ peaks I would hit in the next 35 days.  With the meeting of new friends and trail soul mates, I basked in the beauty of the Nebo line, topped the peaks of the Bullion Divide, frolicked in the wild flowers on Timp, and slogged through the ridge between Provo and East Provo peaks.  Mountains I hadn't hit in years were once again visited (Pfifferhorn, Sugarloaf).  New challenges boosted my confidence on rough terrain (Superior, Red and White baldy) and I knew I belonged above the world!

Occasionally Jennilyn, DJ, or Matt would joke with me about getting all my late night and early, sleep deprived morning training runs in for a 100 miler.  For me, it was a good tease.  I wasn't training, training is hard, I was just playing!

Late one night (early morning), after summiting Box Elder, I realized I had put in almost 60 miles of "running" and countless hours on my feet in the mountains.  I was shocked.  "That's the same amount of miles a lot of people put in their peak week for Wasatch 100," Jennilyn explained, "Too bad there isn't a 100 coming up in less then 3 weeks."  Ok, so there were no 100 mile races I could join but there was a 93K (57.7 miles) in just over 2 weeks, TUSHARS!!

The Tushars from the top of the world PC: Kendall Wimmer
Because I am crazy, I actually contemplated doing the race. I doubted the logistics would work out.  I needed Brent to be ok coming out to support me and I needed someone to take the girls for the weekend (5, 3, and 9 months).  Chances of things coming together were slim to none.  But go figure, Brent agreed right away as long as we found a sitter and my wonderful sister-in-law Amy, who had 5 kids of her own, happily agreed to watch the kids.  I was truly grateful!

I figured I would put in a good 18 miles that saturday on an easy trail (Jordanelle) and I suffered through each step.  I tried telling myself that was completely normal after having 2-3 really tough weeks but my confidence wasn't too great.  I hadn't run over 20 miles since before I got pregnant with Nina and my doubts began to creep in.  The following Monday night I gashed my knee open pretty good on my way up to Lake Blanche.  I taped it up nicely with some purple climbing tape and finished the evening with friends reading poetry, sharing art, and enjoying music in the amphitheater that is Lake Blanche.  At midnight, Cait glued me together and I was on strict orders to stay off my feet for at least 5-7 days.  WHAT??? The last week and a half before the race I ran a total of 5 miles.  Was I ready for this?

Feeling completely ill prepared and under trained, I started off on the race of a lifetime.  At 5am the race began and dozens of racers sped down the rocky jeep trail through Eagle Point resort.  I was supposed to be running with Ben Light but had no idea where he was and figured it wouldn't be too long before he caught up.  About 3.5 miles in I heard familiar voices behind me.  Ben and Matt were chatting away and I eased up and let them catch so I could enjoy the trails with friends.  We reached a saddle just as the sun began to creep over the horizon.  Deep reds and oranges lit up the sky.  Half way to the first aid station, the race was already worth every moment.

The decent through abandoned mining cabins brought back a certain nostalgia for the people I had never known.  Where did they come from and how did they manage in such rugged terrain?  I felt myself among them.

The climb through the steep gulch up towards the feet of Delano Peak was unlike anywhere I had ever been.  The grass was deep flourescent spring green.  Dozens of mountain goats hung on the edge of Mt. Holly and I felt like I was being transported to another world.  Brothers Williams couldn't help but ring out in song.  If the rest of the race was torture, it would all be worth it for those moments. The hills were definitely alive!
The Climb towards Delano, PC Kendall Wimmer

 We hit the peak and found the Van Horns waiting at the top with cameras.  It was great to see more familiar faces.  I felt like I was a part of something really special, amongst those who I love and admire.
Aaron, Matt, myself and Ben PC: Peter Van Horn

We hit Mud Lake aid station at mile 16 just as the first marathoners came through.  I was anxious to get back out as soon as I downed some bacon, a grilled ham and cheese, and refilled my dwindling water supply.  I knew Matt and Ben would easily catch me.  I wanted to move strong but not too fast in fear that I might over spend myself too early on in the race.  After a relatively short climb we reached the decent down to blue lake.  It was incredible.  That stretch of the race was the most "runnable" section of trail.  It was smooth and neither too steep nor too technical.  I stopped once to take some flower pictures and I'm sure Ben (who had caught me quickly as I expected) was rolling his eyes!
Another of my silly pics ;)
Blue Lake
From the lake to Bullion Pasture (mile 23), we switched back on a 4 wheel trail a few miles.  Steadily we climbed with great reward at the top.  My left leg began cramping up with great force.  I would try to rub it out and figured if I just kept moving, it would work itself out. I removed my compression and miraculously, I wouldn't feel a single cramp for the remainder of the race. 

Red shirt and white bandana, I knew instantly Brent was waiting for me.  Jennilyn, Brent and Turd'l helped to get my electrolyte and energy stores back up.  Pickles and juice (yes, i drank pickle juice and it tasted fabulous), mnt dew, cinnamon roll and cheese puffs...that should just about do it.

I was excited to get down the road to the Copper Belt Aid station my good freind D.J. was manning with the help of Emily and Sam.  "Three miles to the top," he said.  Not too bad.....I thought.   Ouch!  That climb felt more like 5 miles.  The grown over rocky trail was difficult to follow.  I somehow missed a flag and traversed the wrong direction for awhile before realizing my mistake and charged straight up the mountain to again catch the trail.  The out and back to the peak was brutal but it was nice having a chance to size up how the rest of the runners were doing.  It was also nice seeing on their faces that I wasn't the only one whose butt was getting kicked!  We reached the top, stamped our bib, and started back down.
The trail on the west side of Copper Belt:  PC Nate Younger

Ben was much quicker on his feet through the rock and scree.  I, being notorious for falling, had to watch my feet constantly to ensure I wouldn't clip a rock with my toe and tumble down the scree field to a certain unpleasant demise.   A dog that had wondered away from her owners made it nearly to the top of Copper Belt Peak before Ben lured her away and we gained another running partner.
Me on the top of Copper Belt  PC: Ben Light

I had been in a bad place for about an hour and knew I needed to kick myself back to reality and get my head into the game.  The stream crossing just before getting back to the copper belt aid station gave me a little hope.  There I would consume the breakfast burrito I made DJ take for me, warm off the grill.  There I would get some water and be 3 miles away from gaining my pacer and dear friend, Jennilyn.  Steadily we moved ahead.

Let me tell you about good friends.  I have GOOD friends.  When we reached Bullion Pasture for the second time (mile 36), my feet were dying.  Matt (who ended up dropping at mile 23) and Jennilyn not only grabbed some new shoes and socks for me, they removed the used footwear, greased me up with glide, and redressed the feet with care, dirt, sweat, and blisters aside. <<<<<Brent would have died!  (Love you brent ;)

We had to keep moving.  7 miles down to the next aid station.  7 miles before the climb that might do me in.  7 miles I kept running because frankly, Jennilyn made me.  And I'm so glad she did.  My downhill legs felt more trashed then my uphill ones but I continued forward, listening to friends.  Scott from Texas joined us at copper belt and stuck with us mostly because Jennilyn had tylonal and ib profin.  This was the lowest elevation point of the race dropping down to nearly 7,000 feet.  We passed Davy, who we'd been leap frogging all day, as he suffered through some gnarly allergies.  The air was warm and thick and I didn't know what to do with all that extra oxygen we were getting, hehehe!

At mile 43 my brain screamed to my body to stop moving and with a 4,000 ft assent to the top of the next peak, my soul was crushed.  I am a strong climber but for some reason, despite a good deal of strength left in my legs, each step seemed almost impossible.  I was so desperate I even had some of Jennilyns absolutely horrible caffeine gun.....I'm telling you, it is the worst thing you'll ever taste.  The choppy "trail" was so overgrown with long grass I was sure I was going to stumble.  I knew I had to push through each grueling switchback and eventually I would find respite and catch my second wind.  I'd already seen great runners falter.  Several were walking back down to Miner's park Aid station as we moved ahead.  But I would  just keep going forward. 

 And then, there it was!  The flags left the trail, reached above the tree line, and the next peak was in my sights.  Suddenly I felt a wave of happiness.  I was going to finish this race!  I knew I could do it.  Maybe it was simply the sight of the end of the climb.  More likely it was because I was back in my element, above timber line amongst the rocks and flowers, with a friend by my side.
PC: Jennilyn Eaton
A storm looked to be blowing in.  The wind was fierce and I felt a sudden chill.  I kept climbing.  We could see ahead what looked to be Ben and Scott, possibly Davy and another runner who had passed me somewhere near the beginning of the long assent.

The last Peak was under me and the Alunite aid station was in sight right below.  We had to traverse the long way around below the station before making our way back up.  "I see the lights," Jennilyn rejoiced.  Each bend I'd think we were there and alas, another bend would come along.  But this time, THIS TIME, there it was.
Atop my final peak PC: Jennilyn Eaton
I took more time at that aid station then any other (15 min) but I felt like a completely new person.  The broth and oranges would get me through the last 7 miles.  Jennilyn seemed slightly relieved to see the Chelsea she knew and loved, come back to life.  Matt Clark was right on my heels and it kept me moving.  I didn't want anyone to catch me.   I could make the last two climbs in the dark.  I could RUN without being told. I could finish the race.  And I did!  It took me about 2 and 1/2 hours to reach the end, faster then I expected and faster then many in front of me.  I felt happy.  I overcame demons and came out on the other side stronger, more resilient, and completely overwhelmed.

I finished the race slower then expected, 18:31, but I think EVERYONE who finished felt the same.  From elite runner Tim Olsen, "The course was a brute, but I'm darn grateful to have finished...especially steep and rugged course compared to most U.S. races I've done besides Hardrock."  Craig Lloyd, local ultra beast, "Tushers 93k. Hands down the hardest race I've ever run. Yes, for me it was harder than both Wasatch races" (The Bear and Wasatch 100).

Seventy-eight people started the race.  Only 45 finished.  There should have been more time allowed for the runners but I don't think anyone expected a race quite like that!  There were moments where I felt surrounded by darkness but the light that came was more intensified, more gratifying, and more powerful then I could have ever expected.  At no point in the race did I think about giving up.  There was no doubt that I'd reach the end.  Did I fear the rediculous cutoffs? Yes!  But I made it.  I didn't know what to expect on my first mountain race of ANY distance so I paced myself and never felt like I was 'racing.'  That is what got me through, steadiness. 

The mind is a pretty powerful thing.  Like I said before, my legs felt strong when they should have been done.  Somehow I overcame the giant "STOP MOVING" screaming from my brain and did something I never could have expected.  Put your mind to something and then do it! Make goals, and reach them!    Find a place where you belong.  For me, it's in the vastness of the peaks...

From @j_e10 8/2/15

On her battlefield in the throes
of rutted hillsides, with her
wounds of unstable shale, she
stood clad in armor of salt
stiffened running clothes and
fought demons of shifting
mountain silhouettes.  her face
was a sword of determination.
An exhausted victor, still
stumbling: oh, she was
magnificent to behold!


















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