Pemberton Trail 50k: The night run

Wow. I can't believe it's over. And I'm walking better than I imagined. Last night I ran my first ever ultramarathon, the Pemberton Trail 50k. This was the 11th year of the race and the debut of the night run. It was an experience!

It started with a few words from the RD just before 5 pm. With a "ready, set, go!" we were off and running with about 90 minutes of daylight remaining in the sky. The temperatures reached about 78 degrees so it was a little warm starting out, but being desert, I knew that once the sun went down the temps would drop quickly. I decided to run with my usual GoLite Rush Pack. I've trained with it. I've run every trail run with it. Why screw with a good thing? I kept the water light, just about a liter, and tucked my arm warmers, gloves and hat into the pocket.

The first 1 1/2 miles were a tad crowded but not bad. By the time I hit mile two things were spreading out. I was running comfortably hard but not overdoing it. I wanted to get as far as I could before the sun set cause I have terrible night vision and knew I would slow way down the second loop. Plus, let's face it, fatigue was going to set in slowing me down further. I made the decision to run the entire first loop and then see how I felt going into loop 2. I made it to the second aid station at mile 11 before the sun set. I didn't stop for aid in the first loop since I was carrying everything I should need. Past the aid station, I pulled out my headlamp and switched into the night.

Night running is a whole different ballgame. Things look different. Your mind plays tricks on you and I began to doubt my abilities. Here I was at mile 12 wondering if I was going to finish. Plus without the shadows created by the sunlight it can be difficult to spot the soft spots in the trail and I definitely hit a few much to my ankle's dismay. I took the advice of a friend who had done PT 50k before and decided to blow past the start/finish which also has aid set up. You never want to risk that you'll seek the comfort of the roaring fire rather than head out for loop number two. Plus I was already imagining bagging it a Tonto and trying to catch Dan's finish. I finished loop one in 2 hours 24 minutes.

Starting loop two, I made a deal with myself. During every mile I could stop and walk for 50 paces. Plus any uphills that were completely unbearable. I managed to run the first 3 miles before I hit the rocky incline which I walked for safety reasons. This is where Pam Reed and her husband passed me. (We went back and forth on the first loop.) I stayed pretty close behind them for several miles and when he made a pit stop she slowed up and talked to me a little bit. Her words of encouragement were much needed at that point and if I could hug her today, I'd tell her that she kept me going. I told her it was my first ultra. She told me I was doing great and I was almost there. She told me I'd have highs and lows but to just keep a steady pace and it would work out fine. We chatted a few more minutes about her Old English Sheepdogs who love to run with her and then her hubby caught back up and they were off after a few more kind words of encouragement.

I thought about what she said and knew that she was right. The same holds true in Ironman, there are highs and lows which are guaranteed to pass. The key is to not let the lows get the better of you, mentally or physically. I stopped for a few minutes at the mile 21 aid station for a much needed salted potato and a couple glasses of Coke. Off again, I knew I had roughly 5 more miles of difficult terrain before I hit the downhill. I can do this, I thought. I nearly resigned myself to the 6-hour finish which was my tentative goal at the start of the day. But then the salt and sugar kicked in and I started feeling better. My walk breaks were limited to my 50 paces and became fewer and farther between.

With 10k to go, I hit the downhill. Within a mile I was at the 26 mile aid station where I took in another salted potato and Coke. I informed the volunteers, both ultra veterans, that after this point it would be the farthest I had ever run. The cheered me on as I took off again down the trail. Now I was running at a pretty steady pace. It hurt just as much to walk, so I kept running. Might as well get there faster. I had run this section several times over the past couple of months after our long bike rides and I knew it well. I told myself that if I felt like it, I could take walk breaks at the start of every mile up until I hit the stop sign which marked 1 1/2 miles to go. But I never felt like it. Each time my watch signaled another mile, I thought 'I don't want to stop, I feel OK'. And I kept running.

Seeing the stop sign in the distance was a welcoming home. I had 1 1/2 miles to go. I was doing this. Passing the Scenic Trail sign with 0.9 miles to go I looked down at my watch for the first time in a few miles. I had 11 minutes to break 5:30. 'You can do this', I told myself. I picked up the pace. For the first time in a while, I was breathing heavily. I could see the lights of other runners ahead of me as we all continued forward progress to the goal. Little did I know, it was Pam and her husband in front of me and I caught up to them just before the finish. I finished one second behind her. Not bad for a first try! (If you don't know who Pam Reed is, you might want to do a google search. She is an ultra guru and has taken on many crazy challenges. To her name she also owns the title of past Badwater winner. Dude. I kept up with a Badwater champion.)

I was tired. Happy. Proud of my accomplishment. I looked around for my husband and when I couldn't find him, I headed back toward the car. He had fallen asleep waiting for me and just woke up. The problem with distance running is not the distance. It's the stopping. The minute I put my feet up inside the car, I started to cramp and my legs suddenly felt like lead as I'm sure the blood was pooling. It was excruciating. It took a couple of minutes to regroup and then we headed over to the campfire to get a little food and drink.

We recapped the night's event on our drive home. I'm proud of us both. We faced a challenge head on and met our goal. I felt prepared for the distance and the terrain from all my winter training. I blew my goal time out of the water by over 30 minutes. It was a good day. It was a good night's run.