The Leona Divide 50 Mile Run - Round 2

As I stood at the start line in Lake Hughes, a rush of uncertainty entered my mind. Nothing was certain that weekend but pain - the pain that would rush through my body as I completed mile after mile, or the pain of not being able to accomplish my goal. I hoped very much that it would be the first one and not the latter.

Froggie (who was there to run the 28 miler), Brian, Donn and I began the race together. That morning brought back great memories of becoming an ultrarunner. I remembered everything so clearly as we took off into the sunrise. We lost the Frog, Brian was soon gone, but Donn and I decided to keep each other company and run this race as a 'fun run.' What a funny concept that is! We began the race not far from two people that have recently become my heroes - Xy Weiss and Catra. They were both seasoned 100 mile runners and I knew that if I was near them in a race, finishing would be no problem. Donn and I had the pleasure of running with Xy for several miles. I learned a lot from her in the short time that we spent together on the trails. She had decided to take this year slowly, entering fewer ultras so that she could spend more time with her kids. "I can't train like I used to... these events don't constitute training. To take on 100 mile races, you really need to get used to a constant level of pain." That comment stopped me in my tracks. What scared me so much about that? Probably the same thing that made ultrarunning appealing to me. Can there really be a higher level of pain than running a 50 mile race?

Donn and I met so many great people as we took a run down memory lane. We journeyed through temperature highs and lows as we admired the newly blooming poppy fields in the distance. The race is an out and back course, so luckily, we were able to see Brian once along the course. I immediately turned around and pretended I was running in his direction.

"Brian! You FINALLY caught us." He rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was very happy with all that he had accomplished so far. He was doing great.

Before we knew it, we had climbed to the highest point in the race at mile 32. Out of curiousity, I asked the woman at the aid station how we were doing with the cut off times.

"Well," she said "You have about an hour and a half to go 6.8 miles." I looked over at Donn enjoying his soup.

"DONN!" I said... "WE GOTTA GO!!" We raced through probably the most beautiful part of the course, desperate to make out cut off. Neither of us wanted it to end there . Along the way, we passed Kirk, a long haired, nice looking, gifted ultrarunner and bodybuilder.

"Why the rush?" He smiled.

"We have to be back at that aid station in only about an hour now."

"Right behind you!!" he said, picking up the pace. The three of us ran with all we had to avoid being disqualified. I knew first hand what it felt like to time out of a race and did not want to go through that again. With only a few minutes to spare, suddenly, the aid station was in view. "You will never take me, oh aid station of ambitious cut-off time!" I yelled as I sprinted in. They all laughed. We had made it.

After that near disaster, Donn and I opted to take it slow... 'getting out money's worth' on the course. Unfortunately, Brian wasted quite a bit of his, finishing the challenging Leona Divide in only 9:44. Donn and I jogged in at 12:41, just 11 minutes slower than my time the year before. I saw Glenda, the race director at the end of the race.

"It is amazing how you were able to create an out and back course entirely uphill!" I said, giggling.

"I KNOW!" She said. "I have done this race once and it absolutely felt that way!"

Brian had already left to go to a soccer game when we finished. After a bowl of soup, Donn and I drove back up Elizabeth Lake Road (also home of the San Andreas Fault Line), watching the sun fall over beautiful Lake Hughes. It was one for the books.

The next morning, Brian and I rose to meet Jean in Encino Hills for the famous Firehouse Run. Generally it was a 17 mile run that would go from Encino to Venice beach, but today we had opted for a different route that only took us 14. That was good enough for me. I was in pain... but I remembered Xy's words... "To prepare for a 100 mile race you must get used to a constant level of pain..." And that is exactly what I was doing. It was not long before Brian sprinted off. Jean and I enjoyed our time together, telling race stories, dog stories, and dreaming of the day that we could run together in a race like Western States! She was a great pacer, very patient as I was very slow that day. Froggie met us about 2 miles from the restaurant. "Pick up the pace, stop slacking!!" She teased me. When we finally made it to The Firehouse, food had never tasted so good. When I got home that day, my shower and bed had never felt that good. Wow, what an amazing weekend! I feel ready for the Western States Training Camp. One step closer...