South Bay Cowboys

Unprepared. Record heat. Mind gave up, but my body kept moving. Euphoria. That about sums it up.

It may not be the smartest thing to commit to a hard 50k, inconsistently train, and then decide to run Baldy and a fast 5k in the same week as the 50k, but sometimes ultras are about winging it and and making it a mental battle (note, that’s a bad attitude to have).

The frosting on top of toeing the line so unprepared was that the race was at the peak of a heat wave. 72 degrees Fahrenheit at 5am and Garmin clicked off 105+ during the hottest parts of the run. Holy hell. I don’t have experience with this. Mental battle out the door, I was depleted early and barely making the 2.5 mile climb to the third aid station at mile 13, I was toast. I sat, drank water, drenched myself in water, and sat some more. “I should drop,” I told myself. “No…”I got up and left the shade of the canopy to continue and immediately felt the curtain of hot air punch me in the face. I sat back down under the limited protection of the canopy. “Dropping, easy, next 8.5 miles in exposed heat to next aid, hard,” I thought. The short 2.5 mile climb was so hard, I couldn’t imagine pushing another 8.5 miles to get to the next aid station. My mind had already lost the battle, so before it could resign to defeat, my body ran itself out of the aid station to push on.

The next 8.5 miles were the worst of the day, but I was fully committed to dropping. I just had to get to the next station to make it official. I’d embrace my first DNF. After hiking so much that should have been runnable, while still spiking my heart rate, I finally made it to Aid #4 at Red Box.

I chugged ice water and sat, enjoying the relief from the brutal heat and ready to drop. At this point I smacked myself a bit. Usually it’s the mind overpowering the body, but I felt my primitive instincts and beat up body were trying to crush my thinking, doubtful mind out of a drop. Though it had been an incredibly slow day, I was ahead of the time cutoff. How about one more aid station and then see. Just keep moving. You can see where this is going. My body lurched itself out of the chair and charged down the trail toward the final aid station.

Fortunately the whole next section was downhill, so I just had to attempt some form of running and try to navigate the exposed sections. After actually passing a few other runners, I finally made it to the last aid station. Now the only thing left between me and the finish line was a 5 mile 2,600 foot climb. I drenched myself with a water hose that the station wonderfully had and then let my feet do their thing. Slowly, one foot in front of the other, I ascended from the trails of hell and back up to the top of Mt. Wilson and to an eventual sprint finish.

By far, by hours, my slowest 50k, but my most hard fought run.