Race Review: Stone Steps 50K

Toward the end of September my friend AK asked me if I would do a race with her. She wanted to do the Stone Steps 50k in Cincinnati. This race is billed as “Cincinnati’s Toughest Ultra.” It is no joke. And even though I hadn’t ran any real distance (any more than 8-10 miles at a time) in recent months I decided why the hell not? So I signed up and went about formulating a 4 week training plan that would at least give me a shot at finishing the race.

The day before the race I did something I’d never done before: bought a pair of trail shoes. Yes, that’s correct. Although I run on trails quite regularly and was about to embark on my 4^th ultra (all 4 on trails), I didn’t own a pair of trail shoes. Yes, I know getting shoes the day before a race isn’t ideal. To be fair, I didn’t plan on running in them the whole time. (Spoiler alert: I did run the whole race in them.) Anyway, I visited my local running store, Up and Running in Troy, and tried on a few pairs. I fell in love with the Mizuno Waves. They were lightweight yet sturdy. And after Sunday’s race, I’m hooked on them. I walked away from that rugged trail race with NO blisters. And I’m not going to lose any toenails either. Woot!

I left my house at 6am on Sunday morning and drove to Cincinnati’s Mount Airy Forest, an absolute gem of a park very close to downtown. To be honest, I was really nervous on the way down. It was over an hour away and my stomach was in knots the whole time. I felt tired and nauseated and wondered why I was wasting some perfectly good sleeping time to run around in the woods. (I am not a morning person.)

When I arrived at the race I quickly found AK at the sign-in spot. It was chilly and dark when we got there but by the 8am start time the sun had risen. The race directors gave us all a pep talk (I think there were around 100+ people signed up to run) and turned us loose on the trails at 8am. This event consisted of 4 big loops of 5.3 miles alternating with 3 loops of 3+ miles each. Both loops lead back to just one very well equipped aid station. There’s over 10,000 feet of elevation change. Basically that means that you’re always going either up or down. There are very few flat stretches. It is also mostly one track and very technical – meaning full of rocks and roots. There are spots where a misstep could send a person tumbling down a ravine that looks beautiful but probably wouldn’t be fun to land in. 

The namesake of the race happens during the big loop – the dreaded stone steps. I started calling it the hellish hill to Hades. Those steps last forever.  And we had to do them FOUR times. That loop also had Gummy Bear Hill to contend with, another extremely challenging uphill battle. (It did have a big bag of Gummy Bears at the top. That was nice. It would’ve been better if they were soaked in vodka, but beggars can’t be choosers.) The smaller loop was no piece of cake either. It didn’t have any HUGE hills to contend with but it had plenty of gradual raises of elevation followed by quad busting downhills.

In the weeks leading up this race I had faced some emotional turmoil. I was looking forward to talking with AK while we conquered the trails. We run well together. There are times when we talk non-stop, and other times there’s complete silence. I also got some solo time as I ended up running the last few loops on my own. I needed that – time alone to absorb some recent changes and reflect on life. 

Although I have some excellent friends I talk to on a regular basis, I desperately needed some time to do some deep thinking – just me and the trails…a time where no one was asking anything of me and all I had to do was concentrate on the moment. A time to reflect and think about what is important to me - what to hold on to, as well as the things I need to let go of. It was a perfect day to do that. It was a sunny day – crisp and cool. The color of the leaves on the trees and the ground ranged from green to gold to vivid orange and red.

While in some ways those last few loops felt very cleansing, they were also painful. My left hip and knee were killing me. My quads were also extremely unhappy. I’ll be honest, I was giving myself pep talks during the last 5 miles. Out loud. In the woods. Alone. Judge if you must, I don’t care.

As I crossed the finish line at the end of my final loop the race director caught me and asked my name and age. I answered, curious as to why he wanted it. Was I the last one on the trail? I knew I wasn’t setting in course records on this crazy hard course but was I the reason he and many of the EXCELLENT volunteers were hanging around? But to my extreme surprise, I actually placed first in my age group. I was shocked. I’m 41 – the age group for 40-49 females is usually very competitive and there are plenty of women in that range that excel at ultras. I don’t consider myself an accomplished or expert runner. But when the race director handed me the award, I was stoked. I wish I would've gotten a picture with him, the guy is a legend. Thank you, David Corfman!

Overall, this race was as fabulous as it was challenging. The trail was well marked.  The volunteers were incredibly supportive. The other runners were encouraging – including the ones who were flying by and trying to set course records.  The scenery was breathtaking. I drove home exhausted but happy. I was very sore for a few days. Getting up and down the spiral staircase at work required time, effort, and a few choice words.  Don’t get me started on the chafing in my armpits and from my sports bra. I guess all that’s a small price to pay. And I’m already scoping out ultras for next year… there may just be a 50 miler on the horizon. 

If you're looking for an intense race that will cause you to dig into your inner reserves just to finish, Stone Steps 50k is a good option. It is not for the faint hearted...but it is well worth the effort.  Be sure to train on hills...

P.S. I didn’t run for a week and then went out and did The Narrows 10k this past Sunday. It’s put on by ORRRC and was super fun. There were over 150 runners and I managed to place 5^th in my age group. No chafing this time. Holla!

A Tale of Two Races - Another Dam 50K and the Dawg Gone Long 50 Miler/50K

June was a busy running month for me. I didn’t intend it to be that way but as we all know, sometimes shit happens. I’m not complaining at all, I like challenges. (Or torture, sometimes those words are interchangeable.) So far in July I've not logged many miles but I have wrecked my bike. Inaugural ride with new pedals/shoes.

Not my most graceful moment. Anyway...let's talk about running. 

The first Saturday in June I ran the “Another Dam 50K” at the Englewood MetroPark. This was my second year running that race and it was a lot of fun. The weather was perfect, as I don’t think the temp ever topped 70. Trails were clear and dry. The course is beautiful. The race director and the volunteers were simply incredible, and the other runners were inspiring. There’s something way different about trail runners – such a sense of camaraderie during these races. This year’s time was notably slower than last year’s, but I met a really cool chick and we spent 20+ miles talking about life, booze, men, and running. Thank you, AK, you are awesomesauce! ;-)

If you’re a first timer and want to try your legs out on a 50K, this is the perfect race to do just that. And if you’re an experienced ultra runner and want to try for a PR, this is also a good race for that.

Running an ultra is sort of like childbirth.  It hurts like a sonofabitch during the process, especially toward the end. However, finishing those events and basking in the afterglow is pure heaven. And just like the pain of labor, the pain of an ultra is soon forgotten.

Days after that race I decided to sign up for the Dawg Gone Long 50K at Caeser’s Creek State Park. I feel like I’ve said this before, but I swear I wasn’t drunk when I signed up for it. I did however, get drunk after I finished. This race was the HARDEST race I’ve ever done. Here goes…

This event started at 6:30 in the morning. It was also about an hour away from my house. That meant getting up waayyyy before the buttcrack of dawn and driving to the park. My friend Steve (he used to be my running partner before I gifted him to the infamous TJack) was generous enough to volunteer to do some mileage with me. During the drive down I admit I was a nervous wreck. I actually called Steve while on the highway and told him not to lose me when we got to the exit because I was paranoid about getting lost. Yes, I have GPS. Yes, I have been to Caesers Creek before. No judging. Please refer back to the “nervous wreck” comment.

One thing worth mentioning is that in the days leading up to this race, this part of Ohio had gotten large amounts of rainfall. Roads were closed due to flood waters. Flash flood warnings were being posted everywhere. Race day dawned gray and rainy…and on the drive down I started wondering what the hell I was thinking. Am I normal? Am I insane? Who the hell does this shit? (Those are rhetorical. You don’t have to answer and if you do, please keep your answers to yourself.)

The temps were in the high 50s and a light rain fell as about 60 of us stood at the start line. (At the end of June in Ohio. Normally hot and humid as Hades.) Half of us were there for the 50K, the other half were doing the 50 miler. Those 50 miler people are gluttons for punishment. Anyway, the race director gave us some encouragement and directions, and released us into the wild. Less than a minute into the run we hit the mud. Never in my life had I experienced anything like that. The trail was a soupy viscous mess that threatened to suction my shoes off with every step. Then we hit the first stream…which thankfully cleaned my shoes but soaked my feet. This race consisted of a 5-6 mile out and back followed by two more loops of 12+ miles each. And EVERY step of the way was mud. If we weren’t in mud, we were in water. This water was above my knee level in some spots. So not only did I worry about ticks (very prevalent in this area this year), I also worried about leeches. To be honest, I’m still doing tick checks but I’ve stopped stressing over leeches.

Most of the trail was single track and it was a tight fit. It was also impossible for me to get into a rhythm due to the mud. This race also had about 2900 feet of “rolling hills” per each of the long loops…and let me tell you something – hills and mud make for interesting adventures. If I wasn’t scrambling up a hill and grabbing onto tree trunks and foliage for traction I was sliding down a hill and praying I wouldn’t break anything. There were also stairs in a few spots…and to say those were slippery is a massive understatement. I’m happy to report the only time I went down was toward the top of a really steep hill and I basically just slid down on my ass and hoped for the best.

At the 17-18 mile mark, Steve and I stopped at the start/finish aid station so I could change my muddy and waterlogged shoes and socks. This is also where my friend Melissa (an elite runner who’s done over 20 marathons in several different countries and across the good old US of A) met up to pace me for the final loop. I apologized in advance for what she was about to experience and prayed that she wore old shoes and didn’t mind getting mud in places that should never have mud in them.  

That last loop was crazy difficult. I expect to hurt during an ultra but this level of pain and discomfort was new even to me. Everything from my boobs down just HURT. My core muscles were on fire, as were my hips. I had a blister on the back of my foot that popped during the race. I could feel the mud squishing my toes with every step. My quads were screaming at me. But I kept on going, albeit very slowly. New curse words abounded with every hill.

I came in last place during this race, which felt a little demoralizing. I later found out one third of the people who started the race didn’t finish the 50K at all. I’m sure most of them dropped due to the extreme conditions and the weather. It was a seriously rough race. I am very thankful to my pacers for sticking with me and for helping me during and after. I feel truly blessed to have such people in my life.

The race director and the volunteers were (again) AMAZING. The Ohio River Road Runners Club truly puts on some of the best races in the area. The aid stations were stocked with a multitude of options and the volunteers had nothing but positive comments for the soggy and grimy runners.

Recovery time following this event was harder than any previous race. Navigating stairs was impossible for the first two days. Hell, stepping in and out of the bathtub elicited a few choice words. I’m sure the bottle of wine I drank while laying on the couch afterward helped with my recovery though. Wine has restorative powers, just in case you didn’t know that.

Initially my next race was going to be in Vegas, baby in November. But there’s a 50K in September that looks like a lot of fun…hmmm. We’ll see how that fits in with soccer coaching duties, as I’m the assistant coach to the 9 year old’s soccer team. (And yes, I may have been drinking when I signed up for that…no judging, please.)

Happy Running!

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.