In planning for my 2016 races I was unsure of how to handle this ultra marathon.

I was running a marathon about 4 weeks before the ultra: http://beginnertriathlete.com/discussion/forums/thread-view.asp?tid...
followed by a glacier skills course and ski mountaineer summit of Mount Baker just two weeks out. I figured I could walk a fine line of running the marathon well but not all out, knowing I had the mountain summit and the ultra just weeks out.

I think I was successful in the way I ran the marathon, as I felt fresh enough to complete the skills course and summit Mount Baker but the later left me completely exhausted. We were carrying packs of 50-60 lbs at times (with full glacier gear, food/fuel/water for 3 days and all of our ski/snowboard gear) and doing some particularly exhausting exercises in building our crevasse travel and rescue skills. When I got home from that trip I laid on the couch for hours, unable to even unpack. I was so completely depleted.

Between the summit and arriving Iceland I got sick and just felt generally low energy. I tapered way back and hardly ran at all in hopes I could be fully recovered by race day.

We did some amazing sight seeing in Iceland leading up to the race and again, I didn't run much as I knew it would do more damage than good. I was still struggling with energy levels and was really quite sick still.

Within the first minute of the race I knew I was not recovered or in condition to run this race. My heart rate was elevated in a completely unsustainable way. I knew it would going to be a particularly long 55K. I mean, even longer than it already is ;)

I tried my best to run smart and efficient. I was genuinely concerned I would not finish this race.

The course was absolutely STUNNING. What I really love is that there are no trees so the views are seemingly endless. We ran through volcanic vents and geothermally active terrain. We ran across snowfields and glaciers and along ice caves, glacial lakes and dramatic mountains.

I was seriously suffering as I came into the first aid station. I had to use all of my mental capacity and just focus on one foot in front of the other. I filled my water bottle and ate some food and took off.

We hit our first stream crossing, the icy water coming up to my thighs. The current was swift and I struggled to stay on my feet. We hit a series of similar streams, each one progressively deeper and wider. The good news was, I didn't have to waste time trying to keep my feet dry on the glacier/snow crossings.

We finally got to a stream so swift that the mountain rescue crew had ladders spanning the stream with snow skis tied to them to make crossing a little easier. I was impressed with their ingenuity and very thankful!

I rolled into the second aid station and again filled my bottle and took in some more food. Good news was that eating and drinking were a non-issue (although I am lucky as this is generally the case.)

I just kept on, one foot in front of the other but I really had to push myself to do so, let alone do it quickly. I was in a dark place and it was early. I had so much appreciation for the beauty all around and my ability to be in Iceland and to run and race and be generally active. Those feelings were all in my head, but the pain I was experiencing was significant and at times, all consuming.

We finally came to the halfway point which was a very significant stream crossing that required the help of the mountain rescue holding a rope and guiding us across what was nearly chest deep at times. Many runners had a change of shoes and socks but I opted to continue on, knowing there would be more crossing ahead.

There were some significant descents that were not runnable due to treacherous cliffs. The impact of 'braking' down these hills was taking a toll on my legs and knees.

I came into the last third with my knee aching, limping. I was concerned I may be truly injured but battled on.

I was now in a very dark place and was struggling to find the joy in the run. I was cursing and reconsidering if I ever wanted to run again. It's funny, as I type this I can't even hardly channel the pain I was feeling - it is now so distant. Thank goodness for short term memory and the ability to compartmentalize eh?

I was trying to do math and couldn't remember when or where the cutoffs were. I wasn't sure where I was in relation to that and how concerned I should be.

I kept telling myself the faster I could move my legs the faster the suffering would be over.

We came down the scariest descent that had a chain and then a rope we had to use to repel down some rocks. The consequence of a fall meant a 50' cliff into a raging, glacier fed river.

I clung on and just really focused on the way forward, as it was the only way. Trying to keep the majority of my weight off my knee.

Because of all the river crossings, my shoes were filled with little rocks and gravel but I just could not bring myself to stop for fear of not being able to start again.

I finally made the final water crossing and hit the last little aid station where I chugged a coke (OMG it was so delicious!!!) I had 5k between me and the finish. I was going to freekin complete this race if I had to crawl.

There was one big hill and then a relatively gentle decline on nice, runable trail.

I passed a lot of people here, in various stages of hurt. Some puking, some walking, some hobbling. Despite my misery, I was in a lot better shape than they were!

Finally I could hear the announcer and then could see the finish line. Unable to sprint, I just maintained through the line and finally came to a stop. I wanted to kiss the ground.


Okay, so the above probably sounds really negative. But I wanted to represent how I really felt with honesty and transparency. Despite the beauty my suffering was truly such that I did not enjoy this race. I know! That says a lot!!!! I really, really love running, even slowly but this was incredibly tough. Now, that being said I don't take any of it back as I think all of our experiences, good and bad, can be leveraged to be better human beings. My biggest takeaway here for my self was how proud I am of my mental fortitude. I finished the race and quite frankly, I can't believe I did. I really felt that bad. I just am so impressed at how far beyond your perceived limits your body can go. (refer to the attached sketch done by artist, Jer Collins) Our bodies are truly incredible and I am so proud of mine.

Oh and of course I am not giving up running. I am laughing as I type this out; It sounds so ludicrous!


Also a cool tidbit, my good friends I came to Iceland to run with actually ended up getting 6th. She and I are somewhat comparable in our abilities (although she is more experienced) so I know what is possible. I also know how much "opportunity" I left on the table, ha!




I look forward to running the distance at "full strength" Obviously the culmination of the marathon, the Mountain Climbing, being sick and just life in general was too much. I'm always trying to test limits and I think I found mine.

Other than that, I think I'd run the course similarly. Just faster :)

Had some AMAZING food


See sob story RR :)