Leading into the Headlands 50-Miler, I was not feeling very confident. In early August, I started nursing some niggles (shin splints on my right and plantar fasciitis on my left foot). The soreness did not prevent me from running, but as soon as I felt them, I knew I had to cut back on training if I did not want them to turn into full blown injuries. So rather than ramping up 3-4 weeks before the race, I was cutting back in both intensity and volume. In addition to cutting back, I was icing, rolling, wearing orthotics in the shoes I wear at work, and wearing a boot to keep my calf stretched during the night. All of these tricks ended up paying off, and I was able to show up to the start line injury free.
The
Headlands event is a series of 25-mile loops, run clockwise, then
counter-clockwise. I had gone up to the Marin Headlands four times in training,
each time completing one 25-mile loop. Being familiar with the course, I had
three goals in mind for the Headlands event:
- Run the middle 30 miles hard because the first and last 10 miles are less runnable.
- Do not trip and fall on my face.
- Eat consistently, and try not to get nauseous.
When
the alarm went off in the morning, I felt surprisingly refreshed and excited. I
did not get enough sleep, but I felt ready to conquer this race. I had a game
plan. My little sister offered to drive me to the start line and cheer me on at
the midpoint of the race. It was very kind of her, and it was fun to share my
excitement about the race during the 50 min drive. For my sister, it was an
early morning, and she was also sleep deprived, so she booked a bed at the
hostel at the Marin Headlands. The receptionist was a bit confused when she
explained that she wanted book her stay for just the day and not the night.
“You just want to sleep all day??”
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| The legendary Eldrith Gosney, who finished her seventh 50-miler. She has also done three 100-milers at the Headlands Hundred. |
It was pitch black when we got to the start line. I got my race number, then took off my layers. I was surprised that I wasn’t cold in my shirt and shorts. In all my training, I was shivering at Rodeo Beach with the strong winds and dense fog. Maybe it was going to be an unusually warm day.
Race Director, Greg Lanctot, made his announcements for the race and made sure we all knew the order of the ribbon colors that marked the trail. After he made his announcements, he told everyone that it was my birthday the previous day and gave me an Ultimate Direction hydration vest as a gift. When he called my name, I had just smeared sunscreen all over my face, so I was trying to rub all the white cream off my face and onto my arms in haste as I approached Greg. One person started singing “Happy Birthday” and before I knew it, all the runners were singing in unison as they watched me slap sunscreen from my face to my arms like a maniac.
I always find all the energy right before a race so invigorating. As I made my way to the start line, I noticed the legendary Eldrith Gosney wearing the #1 bib. She is a local celebrity going strong at the age of 77. She was toeing the line for her seventh Headlands 50-miler. She has also completed three Headlands 100-milers, the last one when she was 70 years old. I was really excited to spot her and asked for her picture. A bystander commented, “See, you’re famous.” Eldrith looked abashed and brushed off the comment.
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| A rare blue clear day at the Marin Headlands |
Greg did the count-down to the race start, and we were off. Since there were four different events going on (marathon, 50-miler, 75-miler, and 100-miler), I was careful to pay attention to the color of the bracelet each runner was wearing. The people running 50-miles were wearing a red bracelet, and I was on the look-out for that color to identify my competition. Early in the race, I saw one woman wearing a red bracelet take off. I tried to keep her within sight, so I picked up the pace. By mile 2, she was well out of sight, and I kind of settled into a pace that seemed more reasonable. Then at mile 3.5, another woman with a red bracelet passed me, and again I picked up the pace to keep up with her. It was dangerously early in the race to be chasing the leaders, but I convinced myself that if I wanted to win the race, this was a risk I had to take.
At mile 4, we hit our first aid station in Tennessee Valley. Not needing anything at the aid station, I kept going, settling into a pace that seemed hard but sustainable. I expected the woman who had just passed me, but then stopped at the aid station, to catch up with me at any moment. As I ran along Coastal Ridge into Muir Beach, I felt the sun beating down on me. It was going to be long day in the exposed trails. Zero fog. No wind.
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| SCA Trail overlooking Golden Gate Bridge |
By the time I hit the mile 12 aid station, I felt drained from the heat. I told the aid station volunteers that the unexpected hot temperatures were really getting to me. The volunteers gave me ice, and I continued my way toward the aid station under Golden Gate Bridge (mile 18). At one of the switchbacks, I saw that the third female was tailing me. The volunteers told me I was five minutes behind first female. Before the race, I was really looking forward to running up the paved road from under the bridge back to the trail, but something was off. I suddenly felt exhausted from going out too fast in hot weather. I really needed to back off the pace.
As I made my way up the SCA trail, the third female caught up to me and ran past. I intended to run this section, but I needed to take some walking breaks to manage my core temperature. I was not going to be able to follow through with my plan of running the middle 30 miles hard. As I ran down Bobcat Trail, I noticed a woman in a light blue shirt walking down the hill. She was wearing something similar to the lead female, but I told myself that she was running too strong to be walking down the hill at mile 22. I was eager to get to the finish line and close loop 1. I knew my sister and friends, Amanda and Marilyn, would be there to send me back out.
When I arrived at the finish line, the girl who passed me near the Golden Gate Bridge was on her way back out. I found my sister and Amanda near the drop bag, and I whined to them as I restocked on fluids and gels. “I didn’t expect it to get so hot. I’m feeling waaay too tired for it to just be half-way in the race.” They looked concerned and didn’t know what to say. As I rushed back out for loop 2, I braced myself for a long afternoon.
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| The Headlands 50 has total gain of 10,000 ft and equal loss |
I noticed my arms caked with dried sweat, and I realized I needed to be taking salt. I searched in the pocket of my pack for the salt capsules, but they were nowhere to be found. Oh no! I must have dropped them on the trail! Litterbug. Also this is bad news for getting hyponatremia. Around mile 31, I started to feel very nauseous. The heat was really getting to me. When I got to the aid station at mile 38, I asked for salt capsule. For some reason, the volunteers were being so stingy. They gave me one capsule, and when I pleaded for more they gave me another two for the road.
One of the volunteers encouraged me to eat off the table. “Pick anything that looks good to you!” I chose a slice of a PBJ sandwich, then dipped it in salt. “Oh, eww, ok. That’s one way to eat it,” the volunteer exclaimed. I felt like she was judging me. Then, another volunteer shrugged and said, “That looks perfectly reasonable to me.”
A guy named Mike, who I chatted with during the first loop, was climbing out of Muir Beach (mile 42) while I was making my way in. “Looking strong!” he cheered. I definitely did not feel strong. I did not cross paths with the now lead female. She must have been more than a mile and a half ahead of me because there is an out-and-back section near Muir Beach aid station, where I would have seen her if I wasn’t fading so precipitously.
Then, at mile 43, I tripped on the trail and caught myself before I fell on my face. The calf above the foot that caught the rock immediately seized, and I laid myself perpendicular to the single-track trail, trying desperately to regain control of my cramped calf. Lying on my back, completely blocking the path, I could hear voices of hikers coming from the right, and I knew a runner I had passed just three minutes ago would be coming from the left at any moment. Please please please let me get control of my calf, I thought, as I stared at my stiff muscle. Then, just before the hikers made the turn around the bend to be within sight, I stood up and started trotting toward them.
I smiled at the hikers, who cheered me on, and pretended like nothing happened. I was so relieved that they did not find me lying on my back across the trail. They would have been worried to see a runner in the horizontal position.
Even though I had regained control of my calf, it still felt stiff and was painful to run on. As I slowly hiked up the hill, I felt the lack of sleep weighing down on me. Why did I not get any decent sleep this week? Why did I make that stupid cheesecake? You cannot be both a scientist and a runner. You did this to yourself. You set yourself up for failure.
As I thought about all the things I did wrong, I started to cry and feel sorry for myself. This was not the way this race was supposed to go. I told my friends that I would finish between 9 and 10 hours. I looked at my watch, and there was no way I was going to break 10 hours given the pace I was going. From mile 46-49, I didn’t see a soul. Not even the occasional hiker. I turned to see who was behind me. Running along an exposed section of the ridge, I could see almost half a mile of the section I just covered. Not a single person in sight. Where are the 100-milers? They should be making their way out by now. I felt very alone.
Finally, as I approached the last mile of the course, I stumbled on a group of people starting an evening hike. “Civilization!” I shouted. They laughed at my excitement to see other human beings. Then, as I got closer to the finish line, there was a set of stairs leading to a paved path. Going down these steps was so painful. “Ugh, so many stairs!” I said out loud to some hikers.
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| Coming down the home stretch |
Once I was on the paved path down to the finish line, I saw three of my friends cheering at the turn. I was so excited to see them. Suddenly, all the pain in my quads and calf dissipated, and I got my running legs back. My friends started running alongside me until I realized I wasn’t allowed to have pacers. “The 50-milers aren’t allowed to have pacers,” I told them with all the focus I had left. Mammen joked, “We were waiting for you tell us you don’t want to be seen running with us.”
As the leader of the 100-mile race made his way up the hill, I shouted at him. “Where have you been?! I’ve been so lonely out here!” He responded with a faint smile. Now, the adrenaline rush from seeing the finish line at the beach below made my legs turn over faster. I was super happy to see all my friends at the finish line. I crossed the finish line just a minute shy of 10 hours.
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| Finish chute at Rodeo Beach |
This race was supposed to be a build-up to Rio Del Lago, my first 100-mile race. I intended to run a solid race on a difficult course, so I’d feel more confident about RDL. Instead, I crossed the finish line filled with new fears. This was the most poorly executed race I had run in six years, but I learned some valuable lessons: 1) Do not chase the leaders. Running my own race ultimately fares better in the end. 2) Adjust the pace as necessary – be flexible toward deviating off the plan.
I was not able to avoid nausea or run the middle 30 miles hard, but I did succeed in not falling on my face! Later I found a bloody scab on my knee. When did that happen? If you don’t remember, it doesn’t count as a fall, right?
I ran alongside some very strong 100-milers who finished their first two loops before I got to the finish line. I was so inspired by their amazing talent and willpower to go back out there when they had the option of dropping down to the 50-mile distance, calling it a day. They have some true grit.
I had some ambitious plans for RDL, but now it’s time to reassess.
Time 9:58:33
Overall Place 6/57
Gender Place 2/28
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