I am going to talk a little about running, and a lot about family.

I am going to talk a little about running, and a lot about family. 

The past few days were an answer to a question I was scared to ask. 

The ultra running world continues to surprise me. I hear these stories of people completing these Herculean feats of several hour runs, 100 mile distances, days long endurance challenges, and I always wanted to be a part of that community. I craved to push my body to that primal edge of endurance and spirit.

I entered into the world and began my training and my stretch to reach these goals. Sure, there were lessons on how dirt feels under foot compared to concrete and gravel. Yes, new hydration methods and strides were adopted. But what was truly shocking was learning that this very lonely and self motivated sport is anything but. 

Without your team of support and troops of encouragement, the endurance runner crashes into their walls. The heat or hunger or dehydration drains their body while the actions and miles drain their mind. The runner can constantly refill the tank with calories and caffeine, but the true athlete needs more. This is not a solo sport, and those who make it a lifelong endeavor, don't have teams, they have families. 

Our adventure started when myself and Dale Cougot, the Texas Yeti, pulled up on a dusty gravel road and stopped to take a picture with a wooden Sasquatch sign. It was hand made and had small crooked letters that read, “Race” with an arrow below. We followed our arrow to a mowed over clearing where a few shuffling people were gathered under a city owned, portable floodlight. We were greeted by RJ, the property owner and Race Director of the Sizzlin Sasquatch Spring Fling. He welcomed us to the property, gave us a brief overview of what to expect and where to hang out, and went about his way. 

We parked the truck near a level area that touched a portion of the 3.64 mile loop course we would spend the next day on and began to set up camp. After tents were erected and a fire was built (inside a metal fire pit, delivered on a John Deer tractor driven by RJ) other runners began to arrive. I met Jessy, an Oklahoma runner and grad student who was not only the first female runner I’d met close to my age, but also delightful company. We chatted and introduced ourselves to several other newcomers, quickly realizing that this was not just a race, but a gathering of a community.

After a few beers, a fire cooked dinner, and lots of stories, while owls cried goodnights and armadillos crawled about, Dale and I zipped into our tents and closed our eyes until race morning. 

5:27 am.  0 miles

My alarm sounded its first warning bell. I awoke excited and nervous and chilled from the nighttime air, still moving dew about the grass and trees. As I heard more car doors opening and voices ringing around, I crawled out of my tent and set about prepping for the big day. 

Before this moment, that farthest distance my body and mind have traversed in a day was the Marathon 26.2 miles. My goal for the day was my first 50 mile finish. I had a strategy in mind to create micro goals of four half marathons, combining to create the distance. i knew this would be no easy feat, but my body loves the half marathon distance so if i can find my stride and stamina, my 12 hour endurance window should get me there. 

That’s what I thought, and I thought wrong. 

After coffee was made in my aluminum pitcher over a backpacker camp stove and some pretzels dipped in peanut butter, I made my way to the tent and trailer that served as start line, finish line, aide station and lifeline. RJ, the friendly race director from the night before, gave us an overview of trail marking and Race guidelines. Mid sentence he glanced down at his watch and began a count down. 

“Oh, hey, 3, 2, 1 and GO!”

That was the start of my first ultra. 

7 am. 0 miles

Dale, his race partner Liz, and I stayed together for the first loop. It was a slow leisurely warm up loop, which was fantastic as my feet and hands were still very cold from the nighttime chill. After that initial get to know you lap, I set off on my own adventure. 

7:55 am. 4 miles

I was surprised to pass Tammie early on. Tammie is a mental champion. I first met her in February as we camped before Cross Timbers. We were both determined to finish the marathon that day and despite her exhausted body from two previous and recent marathons, we met again on the trail. She struggled with the terrain, with a smile on her face and despite the huge elevation challenge on that course, never gave up.

Today she was with Okie Trail Shuffle member Abby taking pictures of a pelvis hung in a tree. We waved and on I ran. 

10 am. 14 miles

I ran as the sun rose and the dew melted away. I ran as the horses came to graze and moved on with their day. I ran while my mind raced over life stressors, song choruses and strange pondering. I ran and I smiled and I enjoyed every step. 

1:30 pm. 30 miles

I ran into the aide station after my eighth lap and was told I had officially hit the ultra distance. Kind aide station worker and Okie member Alicia welcomed me into the Ultra Fam with a high five and encouraging words. Then she told me to keep running. So I did. But now it got tough.

My pace was more dogged. I couldn’t find a groove. My ankles began to swell. My mind stopped racing and began hovering over the pains and cramps that creeped into my tired body. I returned to the aide station with a side cramp I couldn’t kick and a wall mentality in my brain.

3 pm.  34 miles

Abby greeted me and asked me what I needed. I told i was cramping and she gave me wonderful advice. “Cinnamon water” shot. We said cheers and down the hatch with the most well hidden of trail runner secrets. Cinnamon whiskey distracts the mind and relaxes the muscles. The cramps didn’t go away, but they subsided enough that I had another enjoyable lap.

4:40 pm. 38 miles

I returned in a much happier place, but knew I needed to sit and rest my body and hydrate. I joined Tammie who was by our tents under the shade of a tree. She told me of her own struggles with an untamable heart rate throughout the day. She looked tired but still had a rosiness in her cheeks that spelled enduring enjoyment of the day. We chatted about food and training until Dale and Liz approached. 

We recapped our days so far, and while Tammie struggled with her heartrate, Dale was struggling with a sore knee. It was his turn to rest in the shade, and I was feeling a new surge of strength so I took off with Liz for another lap. 

Liz is an accomplished runner with many hundred milers under her belt. Watching her foot falls and stride were educational and enjoyable. She was so light on her feet that it was clear these dirt tracks are where she felt at home. We chatted about races and she told me about her kids and how tough it is to juggle work, home life, and training, but she came to the same conclusion that I have been hearing more and more from this astounding community, “You do it because it’s worth it.”

5:50 pm. 42 miles

We returned from a very strong lap and I came around to Tammie, still in the shade who was feeling the gust of a second wind. Abby came over to join us and the three of us ventured back out for another loop. This was a sole power hiking loop and being accompanied by Abby, who did much of the work clearing the trail, was like having a tour guide. I gained a completely new viewpoint on many of the twists and turns, rocks and brambles I had been running over all day. I learned the story behind the lonely chair by the secluded pond at the one mile mark. I heard the lore behind each of the fun distracting signs hidden in the wooded sections at miles two. She pointed out a beautiful cascade of boulders I have yet to notice as we rounded away from the three mile mark creek bed. 

6:40 pm. 45 miles

We rounded back to the aide station, Tammie feeling proud and accomplished that she overcame her physical struggles, I feeling overcome with my own accomplishment in distance, and Abby being happy, because it seems that is just what she is. I did not make my distance goal, but what i did, I was insanely proud of. And the night was not over yet. 

Runners gathered under the aide station tent as rain drove in. Summer, the race director’s wife had made burgers for everyone. Summer was a roller derby queen with shaved sides and pixie length blue hair. She also has an obvious adoration for her husband, his sport, and the crazy people that came along with it. We all ate and drank beer and laughed. We all had stories to share and smiles on our faces. Cinnamon water shots made the rounds.

While all under the tent had concluded our 12 hour endurance victories, six runners remained making the loops in the dark facing a 24 hour mark. They came and went as we laughed and communed. Their inside jokes became my inside jokes. They opened their stories to me, and mine to them and the atmosphere was nothing but shared joy.

12:30 am.  45 miles

Okie Runner and 24 hour goal seeker Chrissy was fighting to make her final three laps to make her 100K distance goal. She requested pacers and Jessy, who was also at the 45 mile mark suggested we both go out and pace to hit our 50 mile goal. By headlamp, we ran a steady final two laps with Chrissy as this powerful athlete worked through her own mental and physical walls.

2am. 52.8 miles

We did it. 

I have read and heard tales of ultra runners and their pacers and crews and I was always baffled and scared to ask: Where do you find people dedicated enough to your goal to put themselves through that struggle with you? I found the answer in the Oklahoma woods. Ultra running is not a solo sport. It is a family affair. 

I feel welcomed to the family. Thanks Texas Yetis, Oklahoma Sasquatches and all the wonderful people who made the weekend possible.