Iron Horse

It was exciting to me to travel all the way to Florida for a race.  I am so used to showing up to an ultra now, practically knowing everyone.  I knew this time would be different.  As I walked into the race briefing and up to the front of the room to obtain my goodie bag, I remember thinking, 'Wow, this is my first race in a very long time where no one here even knows my name."  My thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind me...

"Summer?"  I turned around to see a very fit man, probably in his late 30s - early 40s.  

His wife (I assume) smiled at me too.  "He has been reading your blog.  He was excited to meet you today."

"Oh hi!" I said, extremely flattered.  "What is your name?"

He introduced himself as Scott and told me that he was taking on the brave task of running the 100 miler the following day.  The race director Chris was my next stop.  I told him who I was and he knew me immediately from my e-mails to him.  I offered him the $10 that I owed him for switching from the 50 miler to the 100k.  He winked at me and told me not to worry about it.  I was starting to really like Florida ultrarunners.  

I took my seat behind last years winner and in front of two men from Tampa that had driven up to volunteer.  We chatted a little.  Last years winner (I forget his name) had actually placed 2nd in the San Francisco One Day event.  

The next morning I woke up and laced on my shoes, ready to go.  One problem - this was the first time that I had put on my running shoes since I broke my toe and it did not feel good.  My dad, who is always encouraging of my races, raised his eyebrow a little at me when he saw me hobble around a bit, but in a few minutes it felt better.  

We gathered around a fire in the middle, and Chris lead a prayer before we took off.  The men from Tampa had decided to run the 50 miler and then volunteer all night.  I stayed with them for a while but I knew that they were a little too fast for me, so I backed off.  I was still flying at 10 minute miles.  The only problem was that nagging pain in my toe.  I thought that if it stayed the same consistent pain, that it would be ok to run through.  That to me said that I was not injuring it worse.  But it wasn't.  It was hurting more and more.  By mile 18, I officially switched from the 100k to the 5o miler.  I was making great time so I could take it slow until the end and still use this as my qualifier.  My dad noticed around then that my stride was beginning to change, and as a result my left leg began to cramp.  It was beginning to sink in that finishing this race could mean dealing with an injury for the next few months.  At mile 22, I called Brian.

"Think of the big picture,"  he said.  He proceeded to remind me of when he had to drop out of the Long Beach Marathon at mile 25.  Unfortunately, when we choose to take on these distances, things happen.  This is all part of it.

I reached the 25 mile mark (also the place that we started) shortly thereafter.  "I'm out."  I said.  Some of the volunteers encouraged me just to do the 50k so that I could get a medal.  "Thank you," I said "but not today."

Of course I was disappointed, but I did the right thing.  I wasn't defeated by that race like I was at Mt. Disappointment.  I made a conscious decision to let the injury win.  When you are fighting against your mind,  I think that is a battle that you should push through, but not an injury.  

One month till American River!  It is flat and fast and Mike Palmer (the man that I paced in Angeles Crest) has offered to pace me to an 11 hour finish.  Western States is still in my sights for 2009.  If this was easy, I don't think it would mean so much to me.  And by the way, I can say nothing but positive things about the Florida ultrarunning community.  Even though things turned out the way they did, I wouldn't change a thing.  It was a nice training run with some great people that I would not have met otherwise.  And Scott, if you are reading this, I would love to hear how your 100 miler went.  Post a comment with details of your race if you can!