Ultra Fail
On a chilly fall morning in north Texas, I was ready for what I thought would be a challenging day. Bags packed, knees weak, arms are heavy…oh wait. That is Eminem. The start line feeling isn’t much different. Heart pounding, butterflies in your stomach, anxiously waiting for the last “Aroo Aroo Aroo”…and then you’re off.
My battle buddy and I did have our bucket packed and we thought we were ready for whatever awaited us. We had completed the Beast last year…and yes, one more loop would be hard but it is just one more loop, right?
Wrong.
Loop 1, the beginning
Things started out like they normally do. My strategy was ‘slow and steady’. Slow meaning 20 minute miles. We wouldn’t burn out and tire too quickly. We kept a decent walking pace and enjoyed the cool, dark morning with only fellow ultra runners on course. There are considerably fewer people who attempt an ultra than a beast, so it was nice to not have crowds at the obstacles once the faster people moved ahead. We watched a gorgeous sunrise that made getting up extra early that day worth it.
Once the sun came up the heat spiked considerably. What my ‘slow and steady’ strategy hadn’t quite considered was the extra time spent out in the heat. It was still early, though, and the temps hadn’t yet climbed to their peak. We decided to bank our energy and complete the obstacles we knew we would be successful at…and once we got to the end of the first loop with the mile traverse through a river rock bed and quads burning while we navigated the hills…we (I) decided to forego the sandbag carry and yet more hills knowing I would repeat this in a few hours. A quick, refreshing travel through the icy cold water at the end of the first loop…where if I had my choice, I would have stayed 🤣…and we made it to the transition area.
We sat down at transition to change socks, eat a snack, and replace the bladders in our camelbaks. According to our friends who had done ultras before, and the many Facebook groups we joined before this attempt, no one should stay long in transition. You lose momentum and the will to finish. We didn’t stay long…but we did find out that it took a lot of effort to a) change socks and b) get back up and get moving again.
Loop 2, The Loop of Doom
By this point, who cares if it was October and the morning was chilly…the day turned out to be nearly 90 degrees. That is straight up summer weather for the majority of the world. Granted, Texas gifted us with a summer full of 100+ degree days (gag me with a spoon!) so it wasn’t the hottest weather we had experienced all year but it for dang sure made that second loop a doozy.
My mindset had started fading right when we started loop 2, but I didn’t want to let my friend down. By the time we got to the first 1/3rd of the loop, my water bladder that had 2 quarts of water in it was more than half empty, my feet were getting pressure blisters where every step felt like I was stepping on glass…and I just wanted to cut my feet off…and I *knew* the dang hills at the end were looming, but my legs were screaming at me with every step up the smaller hills.
‘One step at a time’ was my friend’s motto and she would have finished if it wasn’t for my Negative Nelly/Debbie Downer/Eeyore “cloud of doom” hovering over her race day. We joke now about how the fastest I moved the whole day was when I saw the ATV pull up to take quitters back to the starting area.
I tried to turn the negativity off. But the pain won that day. I would never make it as a Navy Seal (which honestly I knew right after watching G.I. Jane in the 90s, so no real surprise there).
Takeaways
Don’t be my race partner. I just hold everyone back! I joke about a lot of things, but it really does bother me to think that I couldn’t make it that day. I was so sure that I would be able to push through and finish even if it took 13+ hours. I’ve signed up for next year (gotta get the cool snake print shirt) and the goal is to be faster on the first loop to have less ‘time on feet’ and a better chance of mentally pushing through.
Music. Definitely need to bring a speaker next year and pack a playlist with motivating music. “Eye of the Tiger” on repeat? Maybe. We did hear someone playing one of David Goggins’ audiobooks on course. I think I would need music over an audiobook, but maybe a book is a good idea too.
Your training shouldn’t be “denial”. You should actually train for this race. And no, just because you work out every day doesn’t mean you are ready for this particular challenge. It’s a little…extra…so requires a lot of extra effort.
Did I mention to leave me at the start line? If I make it through this next year it will have to be despite my own best efforts to quit.
Try to be camera ready so you don’t look like Ms. Trunchbull.
(In case you were wondering, why YES this is the only official pic I got the whole day.)
To sum up: the only way to fail is to quit. And I failed BIG TIME. In so many different ways. I’m not proud of my efforts on this particular day. I will be back next year and will hopefully put everything I’ve learned so far to the test, with better preparation and training, and ending with the belt buckle and t-shirt (and honestly, the cold Fit Aid would be awesome as well…HUGE shout out to our friend who not only finished, but confiscated two cold drinks so we could enjoy them while we recovered).
P.P.S….my feet didn’t heal completely for an entire month.
That is all.
