Race Recap: Another Dam 50K

Last weekend I did something not many people would think was fun: a little race called Another Dam 50k. No, I am not crazy. (Ok, that’s debatable, but we don’t need to talk about that right now.) And yes, I loved every single minute of it.

This ultra (an ultra is a distance anything over and above the standard marathon distance of 26.2 miles) was at Englewood MetroPark, about a 20 minute drive from my home. I signed up for it a few months ago because the thought of doing something like that scared me shitless. Made perfect sense at the time.

Race day dawned sunny and beautiful with the temps in the low 60s, which gave way to temps in the 80s later. The course consists of 4 loops for a total of 31+ miles. It is mostly shaded except while running across the infernal dam,…which is required twice on each loop. Good times. Most of the race was on the trails, some of it was on pavement. And of course there were hills, including Big Bertha, who makes her salty appearance within the first mile of each loop. She is a bitch.

The race started at 8 a.m., so I got my happy ass up at 6:30 to finish packing my provisions: a couple of PB&J sandwiches, cut into fours (makes it easier to stuff in the face on the go, multi-tasking at its finest), potato chips, water bottle, extra change of clothes, extra shoes and a care package supplied to me by one of my BFFs. (The normal stuff like Vaseline, candy bars, lotion, powder, etc. Things one needs during and after the race, obviously.) And in true Lisa fashion, I forgot my Powerade. I knew Gatorade would be supplied on the course but it doesn’t always agree with me. Enough said. I have better things to do than to get into a discourse on my intestinal issues. Okay, I really don't but I'll leave well enough alone. This time. 

Just before the race started, the race director called the 100 or so participants to the start line and gave us a low-key pep talk. He also warned us not to fuck up the trails – no littering and if you have to be a bear in the woods and can’t get to one of the porta-potties make sure to get far enough off the trail that other runners don’t have to witness it. After those words of wisdom, he turned us loose.

During the first loop I fell into an easy pace. I knew my pacers wouldn’t be joining me until loop 3 or 4, and I was fine with that. As I was running, a few people struck up a conversation – it was all very laid back and relaxing. At one point I started running with a guy who had crewed/paced at the Leadville 100. Seriously, how fucking cool is that? He also had done IronMan 70.3, an event on my agenda for next year. Turns out, he and I had a ton of mutual friends. We chatted and paced each other for 10-15 miles and had a grand old time. Thank you, Doug, for your awesomeness.

By the time I started loop 3, I was on my own again. But my first pacer, Sheila, made her appearance with impeccable timing as I was heading through an aid station. We took off, and I sincerely believe that she made that loop bearable. We talked sometimes, but there were also times of silence. She was an excellent pacer and those miles seemed to fly by.

At the start of loop 4, Tracey (she of the two time Boston qualifier fame) made her appearance and the three of us set out.  If you’ll recall the last time the 3 of us ran together, I puked. There was no puking this time. They told me it wasn’t allowed as it would give them a complex. This loop was the hardest. I was tired. My body hurt. And then I got a weird side cramp. I also felt like I was getting a blister on the bottom of my left foot. My hips hurt. My knees hurt. I didn’t like my sunglasses on top of my head but I didn’t want to wear them, either.  My Garmin quit. The birds were too loud. I think I ate a bug. But I felt as if I couldn’t stop smiling. There’s no other way to describe it: I felt free. Free of the shackles of grief that have plagued me since my sister died last month. Free of the constant stress of budget woes, worrying about my children, fretting that I’m not a good enough mother, daughter, friend, person, …I could go on. I opened up and let the trails just be my therapy.

As we neared the end of loop 4, I felt like crying. I was beat the hell up but not ready for it to be over. I marveled at every mile covered and felt incredibly lucky to have fulfilled my goal. I crossed the finish with a time of 6:10:31. That includes all the stops at aid stations. I was 3^rd in my age group for females and 11^th female overall. Not bad for my first ultra. And I can’t wait to do it again.

Thank you again to my wonderful friends and pacers, Sheila and Tracey. (And to fellow Team Grace members – congrats Brett Bogan!). And thank you to TerriAnn, who sent me wickedly funny and inspiring texts all the way from Utah, as well as Steve who texted me to get moving and stop drinking wine in the shade. For the record, no wine was consumed until hours after that race. I stayed hydrated with water and Gatorade. Also, I want it known that I did not make up any new obscenities during this race. That alone is a major accomplishment, thank you very much. 

Until next time….

Signed,

An ultra runner. 

Words With Friends - A Valuable Teaching Tool. Maybe.

Okay, I admit it. I am addicted to a little game called Words With Friends. (I believe I've mentioned this game before.) It’s like Scrabble, and people can play it via Facebook or download the app on their smartphones. For those of you who have not yet discovered this little gem of a game, I have a question: What rock have you been hiding under? I would go so far as to say I spend more time playing Words With Friends than I do on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ combined. (In case you’re wondering, no, I do not have a life.)

            Don’t get me wrong; I still carve time out of my day to tend to my responsibilities, namely, the girls. I still manage to keep a (somewhat) clean house, get both kids to their schools, and also manage the duties of being a full time student myself. If I'm really lucky I fit in some time to do some freelance work and actually earn money. But I have to admit, hearing that special sound on my phone that notifies me it’s my turn in any number of the games I have going on still makes my heart flutter.

            As both a writer and a parent, I rationalize my constant obsession with this game by saying that it is a teaching form of entertainment.  After all, I’m expanding my vocabulary. I’m constantly exercising my mind. I’m even helping my children, as they also like to help me “make words”. That’s responsible parenting, right? I’m engaging my children in a game. But not some repetitive and mind-numbing video game that has no educational value (although those have their place in my household too). The way I see it, Words With Friends is a valuable teaching tool.

            One recent evening, I tossed the seven year old, Pie, in the shower. I surveyed the domain and realized that the dishes were done (mostly), the laundry was (almost) put away and the cat was fed. Perfect time to play a few games, as it was my turn in eight of the 14 games I had going on and I most certainly do not like to keep other players waiting when it’s my turn.

            I tapped my finger on the game I wanted to play in first. This game was becoming extremely dicey, as I was losing against my friend by 30 points. I’m not a sore loser; I just don’t like to lose—especially to people who cheat, which I believe my friend in this particular game does on a regular basis with one of the cheating apps. Seriously, how the hell does a person who regularly misspells all of their Facebook status updates know the words “ferly” or “quaen?” I’ve never even heard of those words and I have four damn dictionaries and two thesauruses.

            As I studied my seven letters and the layout of the board, I realized that I could quickly surge ahead by placing my W in a spot that would conjoin two words. This particular spot also happened to be a “TL” square, which means I would get triple points for the W for both words – a whopping 24 extra points on top of the actual points I would get for the words themselves. Then I looked at the board again and realized that if I added an “S” to the end of the one word it would also be a triple word, meaning that my points for the whole word would triple. Happy Birthday to me!

            However, I was doubtful about this move, because this game can be touchy sometimes and words that are deemed derogatory are not playable. One of the words that I was about to create was the word “whores”, which could be construed as derogatory in certain company. Oh well, I had to try, right? I owed it to my self to get as many points (without cheating) as possible. I placed the letters and hit “play.” To my eternal delight, the game accepted the words and I got a whopping 64 points, thereby knocking my opponent out on his proverbial butt. Score!

            At that moment, the hubs walked into the kitchen with the 5 year old, Bittle, trailing behind him. She was trying to show him her latest efforts at cross-dressing her Ken doll, but I thwarted her by shoving my phone in John’s face. I wanted to show him what I did, so that he could praise my expertise and obvious intelligence in this clever word game. I also did not want to say the word out loud, as the 5 year old has a propensity to repeat any word that might be considered as bad. Words such as damn, shit, and hell have all been uttered from her lips, and although I have told her those are bad words, her response to me is that she heard it from me and why do I say those worlds if they’re bad?

            “It let you play whores? Wow. Good job.” John said, followed by an eye roll.

            “Whatever, I’m stoked. I got 64 points for it. And this isn’t one of our games.” I was beating him in three of the five games we had going on, a fact that he was slightly touchy about.

            Bittle promptly left the kitchen, still clutching on to the Ken doll dressed in one of Barbie’s ball gowns. She hustled straight to the bathroom where Pie was showering.

            “Pie, guess what?”

            “What? I’m in the shower.”

            “But mommy played whore for 64 points in her words game! She’s very excited.”

            “What?”

            “I said, mommy played whore,” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

            “What’s a whore?” Pie yelled back.

            “I don’t know but it must be good. Mommy is very happy right now. Maybe she’ll let us have ice cream for a snack.”

            I might be rethinking my teaching tools.