Mount Hood 50K

As most of you know, since April I had been dealing with two stress fractures that had sidelined me from running for 10 weeks. On May 30th, I was given the green light from my doctor that I could run again. What you should know is that coming back from stress fractures after a significant period off, the build back has to be slow. Not because you are not capable, but because you have to slowly increase the impact on your bones again.

Fast forward to July 7th, 2017 where I found myself getting on a plane to head to Oregon. My goal race this year was Go Beyond Racing’s Mount Hood 50K. It would also be my first ultra-marathon attempt. Vanessa had found this race, and we had decided on it as our first ultra-attempt as reviews had touted it as beginner friendly, not very technical and fairly runable.

The race website describes the race as follows: The Mt. Hood 50K is a heavily shaded trail race that is run on the Pacific Crest Trail and around Timothy Lake. Runners will start by running north from the Clackamas Ranger Station, skirting the eastern edge of Timothy Lake before joining the Pacific Crest Trail. You’ll pass through two aid stations before reaching the Turnaround aid station. You will then return the way you came on the PCT, but will turn onto Timothy Lake trail when you reach the lake, running counter clockwise around it. After one last stop at an aid station at the dam, you’ll head for the finish line. The trail is generally soft with good footing, although there are some technical sections with rocks and roots. Total elevation gain is approximately 2,723 feet.

Having had to take 10 weeks off in the bulk of the training period, I had accepted the fact that the dream of an ultra marathon was going to have to be put on hold for awhile longer. Nevertheless, I had signed up, I had a flight and a vacation planned with my training partner and friend Vanessa – so off I went to Oregon. My plan was start the race, see how I felt, how far I could go, take in the trail and the views. I would be extremely cognizant of the areas where my stress fractures were, and being under-trained, figured that I would likely drop out at one of the aid stations along the course when the going got too tough.

Race Day:

The morning of the race, Vanessa and I arrived at 6:30AM – an hour and a half ahead of the 8AM gun time leaving ample time to get a good parking spot, collect our race kits, and hit the porta-potty about 5 times (well, that was me). With only about 150 participants, we hadn’t realized how small this race actually was. It was a pretty great vibe, really low key and very laid back. In the half hour before the race I began questioning all of my choices – wear this, take that, don’t take that … etc. I was really flying by the seat of my pants as I jammed nutrition into my brand new pack. Yes, that's right - brand new, never worn pack. I was doing everything I wasn’t supposed to do. I was a bit nervous, but starting with no pressure or expectations on myself kept me pretty grounded.

The only race plan I had was: go slow, be conservative, hike a lot, be aware of my body, drop out if/when necessary.

After a few pre-race announcements and instructions, to the blaring music of ACDC, we were off!

The trail went almost immediately to single track, so it forced a fairly slow start until participants began to thin out over the first couple of kilometers. Vanessa and I ran together for the first 5-6KM. I'm glad that we got to enjoy a bit of the trail together. As the distance clicked by, she began to pull further ahead of me until I lost sight of her. I had to tell myself to continue to stay slow and not try to keep pace with her. Vanessa had trained hard for this race, and I had no business attempting to keep up. From there on I enjoyed the trail alone or chatted with my new ‘made on trail friends’ who were around intermittently.

The first 10-ish KMs (6miles) to Aid Station #1 were very runable – soft trail with pine needles, a few bridges, a rocky hill or two – but easy sailing. Aid Station #1 marked the beginning of the 'out and back' section of the course. I knew from studying the course profile that the biggest climb of the day (2 to 3 miles in length) was between Aid Station #1 and Aid Station #2 at mile 9 so I was mentally prepared. It wasn’t as bad as anticipated, and I grinded up it with a couple other runners (one wearing Mikkeller shirt!), running short sections where possible. We came into the Aid Station just in time to see the first place runner blast through in the opposite direction (he would go on to set a course record). That meant, he was already at mile 17 (I was at 9). Insanity. I spent only a couple minutes at the Aid Station, witnessed a few more of the front runners blasting through, and headed off. I was secretly afraid to spend too much time at any of the aid stations out of fear I might never leave.

The next milestone would be Aid Station #3 at mile 13 (KM 21). After a few kilometers, we entered a hilly and difficult part of the course that felt never ending at times. It was during these difficult miles that I looked up and my heart swelled – there off in the distance through the trees stood Mount Hood.

This absolutely stunning view was what we had signed up for, what we had waited for, and personally – what I was running for. Prior to the race I had said, ‘as long as I get to the see the mountain, I’ll be happy.’ I guess the giddiness on my face must have shown – as one of the runners heading back in the other direction said to me ‘Just wait – it gets better.’ And it did. The views were breathtaking. It was however a fine balancing act – the trail was single track and narrow with a fairly steep drop off on my left. Too much mountain gazing , and I very easily could have found myself tumbling down the side of the mountainous hill I was on! Luckily I stayed on the trail, and the view kept me smiling and moving through to Aid Station #3.

It was at this Aid Station that I had the sudden urge to drink a Coke. I have never had Coke during a race – so my brain told me that starting now was probably a bad idea.

However, I was not taking on fuel well. Up to this point I had taken a couple Shot Blocks (chews) – but I already knew there was no way I could stomach a gel. My body needed something else. So, Coke it was. I downed a quarter of a can, shoved some salted chips in my mouth and set off unsure of how my stomach would take it.

As I hiked out of Aid Station #3 (also the turnaround point of the 'out and back' section) it dawned on me – I was at mile 13. That was the distance of a half marathon. I was still moving and feeling surprisingly good. It was … confusing. But off I went.

This section of the race also caused me some confusion. On the way out it felt like we were constantly hiking uphill, while the runners on the way back, were running down. I kept thinking 'I can't wait for the turnaround to hit that downhill!' Now on my way back, once again, all I seemed to be doing was hiking uphill! How could it actually be uphill BOTH WAYS?? Obviously, I know it’s an impossibility – but I was definitely not the only runner that felt like it was! Aid Station #4 (mile 17 / KM 27) seemed surprisingly further on the way back. Myself and a couple other women trucked along and chatted. It was approaching noon, and the heat was starting to set in through some of the exposed sections. With each footstep, dust flew up from the dry ground layering my body as well as my mouth.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, through the trees we saw a clearing, and a group of people. The Aid Station! My mouth watered when I thought about downing another Coke. We busted through to the clearing ...... only to discover a pack of boy scouts sitting on the road. They waved and clapped. I stood dumbfounded. 'How could this not be the aid station?' Continuing along the trail, I sunk to a new low. It was hot, dry and now I was getting tired. The mirage of the Aid Station had taken a real mental toll on me.

The next mile –ish to the aid station was torture. With exhaustion setting in, this is where I had my first trip and fall of the day. It wasn’t bad or hard – but as soon as I found myself on the ground my legs went into complete spasm. I found myself groveling on the ground, grabbing for anything that could help me get back on my feet. When I managed to get back up and start moving the cramping subsided but my calves were solid as rocks and still felt as though they could slip into a cramp at any moment.

Luckily, the volunteers at Aid Station #4 breathed new life into me. A woman with a bucket and a large sponge showered my head and neck with ice cold water and doused my hat. I drank some Coke, ate some chips and took a salt tablet to help with the cramping. It was now 12:30PM. I had an hour to make it to Aid Station #5 at mile 20 before the time cut off. Being primarily a downhill section, I knew it was totally doable – so off I went running. I ran the majority of this section with one more 'trip and fall' accompanied by the same crazy leg cramping. I kept checking my watch to make sure I would make it in below the time cut off. At this point, I couldn’t trust what my watch was telling me as the accuracy of the GPS this far out in the wilderness was unreliable. I ran scared not knowing how much further I had left. And all of a sudden before I even realized it, I was there. With 15 minutes to spare. The volunteers cheered me in, immediately asking me what I needed. This was the first time that day that I seriously choked back tears. I couldn’t believe it. I was at KM 33 and I had made the time cut off. I took a minute to compose myself, swallowing my emotions before I requesting a coke for my parched throat and some Vaseline for my cracked lips.

Leaving Aid Station #5, I had about 9KM of trail before I got to the next Aid Station at mile 26. Now I was really alone out on the trail. Worried about the cramping in my legs, I tried a 'Hot Shot' for the first time - a product that is supposed to stop muscle cramps, but is also like taking a shot of hot sauce. I didn’t have the nerve to try it at the Aid Station out of fear of how my body would react this far into the race. For you runners out there – we all know something like this could have dire consequences, and I had decided I’d rather face that possibility alone. Luckily, I had neither reaction. However, a few minutes later I almost choked on a jelly bean. Turns out, there are a lot of hazards in ultra-running.

As I trudged along alone utterly and exhausted running tiny bits, and walking bigger bits I saw Timothy Lake on my left. This was my indication I was heading around it. Out there alone as the reality set in, I let my emotion take over for a minute with tears stinging my eyes I realized: “I'm actually going to finish this thing.”

Somewhere around KM 36-37 I noticed another runner behind me on the trail power hiking. At this point, I was still attempting to run sections, but my 'run' had deteriorated into a slow shuffle. As I continued shuffling along, every now and then I would glance over my shoulder and still see him there. Finally I realized my “running” was no faster than his power hiking, so I stopped and waited. I was tired of being alone. His name was Greg. He was dealing with some bad quad cramping that had stopped him from running, but his power hiking was still moving him along a fast clip. So together we hiked. When the last Aid Station came into view in the distance across the dam, we ran it in together.

At mile 26.4 - leaving this Aid Station would make this officially both mine and Greg's longest race ever.

The last 8KM of the race saw a myriad of landscapes including; lush forest, fields of daisies, sections of trees burnt from fires, Mount Hood majestically overlooking Timothy Lake in the distance, and trails that brought us so close to the lake that water could lap at your shoes. It took all of your will-power not to give up and jump in the lake. We met horses, mountain bikers, hikers - many asking "Are you part of that crazy race?" or "Can I get a high five?"

My whole body ached. But that good kind of ache, the ache that tells you you’ve worked hard. Having company for these last kilometers made all the difference. Out of the blue I recognized a bird house and then looking beyond it, a trailer. I gasped and blurted out to Greg “Oh my Gosh! We are here, this is the finish! I recognize it!” With that, we took off running together. We got cheered into the finish with Greg doing his signature “fly in” while I captured it on the GoPro behind him (full race video is in the works).

The race directors from Go Beyond Racing, Todd and Renee, were both there at the finish to congratulate us with a handshake, a hug and a much needed glass of refreshing 10 Barrel Brewing Beer (of which I had 3). Vanessa, who ran a very strong race, was there cheering me into the finish too. I love Vanessa's finishers photo - the fist pump with one of the Race Directors coming in for the high five!

After what seemed like an eternity, I found myself a camp chair and sat down. I was in a state of shock and awe. It was all over. I had finished it. And was it ever worth it.

Race Highlights

The small size and intimate feel: With about 150 people it was the perfect size.
The Aid Stations and the Volunteers: The volunteers were beyond amazing. As soon as you arrived at the Aid Station, they were asking what you wanted, putting their hands in your sweaty pack to refill your water, dousing or misting you in ice cold water, filling your hat with ice ... I could go on. The Aid Stations were well stocked with a variety of food choices as well as first aid supplies, vaseline, and salt tablets. The volunteers were one of the best parts of this race and by far some of the best I have ever had the pleasure of interacting with.
Having an epic race experience with Vanessa
The other racers I met on the trail: Thank-you goes out to each and every person I met on the trail - in particular Greg for the last leg
The scenery: 'Nuff said
The Race Directors: Todd and Renee were terrific. They waited at the finish to high-five, hug and congratulate every single runner that crossed that line. I have never experienced that in a race before.
The ice cold beer at the finish: Thanks to 10 Barrel Brewing for filling my cup multiple times. It was the perfect finish.