Erin Kelman – Run Rabbit Run 100 – Friday, September 8, 2017

What a wonderful day, night, day at Run Rabbit Run 100. Volunteers, course support, and a beautiful course made it an amazing experience. The mandatory finish line hug capped off the accomplishment. It was not without its challenges, however. With over 20 thousand feet of climbing at elevations over 10 thousand feet and wildfire smoke, my east coast body was presented with some unique challenges. With that, I learned that the body and mind can do some crazy things that for me led to a collection of proud moments. I hit some dark patches but in the end was able to finish the race in 29 hours and 38 minutes, earning the coveted “Under 30 hours” belt buckle. We kicked things off at the base of Mt Werner at 8 am with a 4.4 mile climb that proceeded directly up the steep grade of the ski hill, up, up, up at grades approaching 40%. I was happy that I brought my trekking poles and to learn from a course marshal that this would be the steepest grade climb of the day. From there, Friday went relatively smoothly and I enjoyed the perfect weather, views of aspen trees, mountains and waterfalls while chatting with runners and pushing forward. I felt like I was breathing okay at the higher elevations, just was moving a little slower than usual, which is not necessarily a bad thing for 100 mile race where conserving energy is important. Friday night got cold, I layered up and tried to minimize time in aid stations as I was getting the shakes if I stayed static for too long. It was impressive watching the elite hares, who started their race 4 hours after mine, blow by me wearing less layers and running uphill like robots. I kept pushing forward, moving a little slower than before but moving nonetheless to stay warm, anxiously awaiting daylight. When the sun came up Saturday, it was nice, but the majority of the race from here was at close to 10 thousand feet. Now I was starting to feel the effects of the altitude, eventually the heat from the sun, and smoke from wildfires miles away in the Steamboat. Pre-race, a medical expert spoke to us about the possible effects of the wildfire smoke. We learned that while there was no concern for long term damage from the smoke, we could experience short term effects like itchy, burning throat and cough. I was experiencing the burning throat, some hacking, and this coupled with shortness of breath from the altitude meant lots of walking. Eventually I reached the Long Lake aid station, expecting to have about 10-11 miles to go to complete the 102.9 miles that the race manual suggested the distance would be… But this is an ultra, and the mileage listings are rough estimates at best. I forgot, the race manual also said it would be about 13 miles from here but that would mean 106 miles. Another runner, who had run before confirmed it, yep 106 miles. This hit me like a rock. Throughout the course of the race, I mentally set, and then re-set time goals. First, 24 hours seemed possible, then 25, then 28, and eventually I settled on 30 hours. After all, 30 hour finishers receive a special buckle and that would be cool, right? When we entered Long Lake, the other runner and I did the math. We had 3 hours and 45 minutes to run/jog/hike/crawl 13 miles in order to finish in under 30 hours, an average pace of roughly 17 minutes per mile. Was this enough time? Normally, outside of an ultra this would seem easy but 90+ miles into an ultra in mountainous terrain a mile could take up to 30-40 minutes, and that doesn’t necessarily account for needing to stop and rest due to fatigue. I really wanted the distance to be shorter. I was worried, but couldn’t do anything other than press on. The next 7 miles was mostly rolling hills at roughly 10 thousand feet, heading again back to the Mt Werner aid station that we hiked to at the start of the race. I jog-hiked along with the RRR veteran runner that I had just met and we managed to knock off a couple miles at around a 15-17 minute pace. But the effects of the altitude and smoke were getting worse. I felt terrible and I could not maintain the speed. My new runner friend was chatting away but I couldn’t even register what he was saying let alone manage breath to respond. I had to slow down, so I did. I walked and walked, watching the miles click off at 22 to 24 minutes. The sun was beating down on my pale skin and I was coming to terms with the strong possibility that I would not break 30 hours. Another hill. I had to sit down. So I found a tree for shade and sat down and quit on my goal. I quit on my goal. Looking back now, this was maybe the best decision that I made but in the moment I was in a dark place mentally preparing my post-race story about how I tried and failed to break 30 hours. Eventually I got myself back up and pushed on at full turtle pace, enjoying the scenery, more aspen trees, mountain views, chipmunks running around and I could even see source of the wildfire smoke in the horizon. I mentally accepted that finishing a 106 mile race is still pretty special (it is!), felt proud in a different sort of way, and cheered on the few other runners who passed by me and who offered words of encouragement in return. Finally, I reached Mount Werner and when I did it was a miracle! Somehow, I still had 1 hour and 35 minutes to reach my previously discarded goal and the last 6 miles was all downhill, on a fire road for 5 miles and then the rest on a single track trail. I had a goal again! If I could maintain 15 minute miles then I could break 30 hours and get that special buckle. I could not believe it, I had a chance. Immediately I got a second wind, grabbed a handful of M&Ms from the aid station and headed downhill with a cheesy grin and eyes that wanted to but didn’t drop a tear as the emotion hit me. Thankfully, my legs were in sync with my brain and my downhill legs responded. I did a mix of jogging and fast-paced walking to maintain a pace around 12 minutes per mile (preserving my legs with the hiking while banking extra time just in case there were any other surprises), clicked off miles, and made my way to the finish. Run Rabbit Run 100 is unique in that they have a designated hugger at the finish line and your time does not stop until you hug the hugger. As I approached the finish line I could see the volunteer coordinator there with her bunny ears on, clearly the designated hugger. The clock read 29 hours and 38 minutes and coming back from the dead to break 30 hours made the hug feel extra special. Post-race I enjoyed the post-race party with beer and food, chatted with other runners, and reveled in the accomplishment. I even found the strength to collect all of my drop bags, which must have weighed a combined 50 pounds at least, and to carry them the several block distance to my car. I showered and went to bed exhausted. There is a cruel irony to doing these epic endurance events where you can be sooo tired, yet sooo sore and swollen that you cannot sleep. I laid in bed with my eyes closed for about 6 hours, except once crawled around the room looking for Advil. I found myself wondering if timing goals are stupid, or selfish, and settled on a comfort level that the pursuit of the goal kept me motivated and achieving the goal made the day extra special but that it would have been special either way. Eventually, when my muscles stopped pulsating and when the pulmonary symptoms from the wildfire ash calmed down, I fell soundly asleep.