White River

Last Saturday was WR, a 50 mile race that starts and ends at Crystal ski resort (more or less).  It is an awesome course and since I started running ultras this is one that I really wanted to do.  Friday night Matt, Julie and myself headed to the start area, set-up camp, and went to the Snorting Elk for the pre-race meal.  The RD was giving a briefing during the meal that both Julie and I agreed did nothing to calm our pre-race jitters.  So, after shoveling in our fill of spaghetti we high tailed it out of there without listening to the full breakdown.

Pre-race meal

Back at camp we met up with Julies boyfriend Jon and the rest of the Oly trail runners.  We visited for a short while before everyone decided to hit they hay to prepare for the long day ahead of us.  I woke-up shortly before my alarm with a start, I was in the mist of a dream that I missed the race start by an hour and had to rush around to get started.  Thankfully it was just a dream.

Julie and I with Herb. 
I was hoping if I stood close enough some of his experience would rub off.

The Oly ladies

The initial miles ticked off pretty quickly, I felt good and figured I should go with it.  I generally eat every hour and I stuck with that, but I added something new this time, I took salt every hour as well.  During races I tend to get a serious case of sausage fingers, this really helped with that problem.

Early miles. Feeling good.

I cruised into the Corral Pass aid station (~17 miles), got some food and quickly got back on the trail.

photo credit: Glenn Tachiyama

This is where things went south.  All of a sudden my achilles started to hurt.  I honestly can't tell you what happened, things were going smoothly and then all of a sudden, well, it wasn't  smooth.  Every time I flexed my foot I cringed in pain, something was wrong, very, very, wrong.  I had 10ish miles until the next aid station, I told myself I would get there and reassess my situation.  Those 10 miles drug by, it became more painful to move with each step.  I was reduced to crab walking down rooty portions of the trail to avoid flexing my foot.  The worst part was that aside from my achilles issues I felt awesome. 

I was busy throwing my own personal pity party when fellow Oly runners Kris and Heidi passed me.  They stopped to ask how I was doing, I told them my issue and they suggested I drop at the next aid station.  I had already came to that conclusion on my own, but hearing it from another person(s) cemented it.  Which brings me to the conclusion of the WR 50 mile for me, I DNF'ed at around 27 miles.  It sucks, I am not happy about it, but I think it was the best choice.  I could barley walk, it didn't make sense to continue, especially since I after the race I was headed to meet friends to do a bike tour from Jasper to Banff. 

Dragging my sorry self into the aid station to drop...

WR fail.  Guess I will be back next year!