Mowdy Ranch Mustang Run 50k

Like most everything that had been going on for the majority of the past two weeks, the trip to Mowdy Ranch turned into a great adventure. 

I sat on the upward curving middle hump of my Ford Ranger between my girlfriend, Jessy, and her fidgeting, grumpy five year old daughter, Eden. My knees where in my chest with my feet perched on the cup holders below, housing Eden’s half spilt soda, Jessy’s nearly empty water bottle, and my own nearly full coconut water. My stretched IT band and related tendons told me this posture was less than ideal, but being a gatekeeper between a tired momma and her tenacious child was my ideal location for this trip.

I would remind myself to periodically sip to try and pre-hydrate, but between my less than ideal sitting location and the consistent wiggles from Eden, that became a harder task. The truck was an extended cap with a little extra room behind the seats and in this little nook, Jessy’s oldest, Aiden, had set up shop. He spend most of the morning chirping in our ears, telling tales of videos games and movies he played and watched and generally seeing how much consistent noise he could make before needing to take a breath. 

We travelled from Dallas, TX to Tulsa, OK in this fashion. Our first stop was Runner’s World, a small local running store that housed varieties of shoes, clothing, and accessories. Our crew plopped out of the car one by one to stretch our legs and enjoy a few feet of space between our bodies for the first time in four hours. 

We enjoyed the break and did some shopping. I purchased my first pair of Saucony road shoes from the discount rack, and on Aiden’s sound advice that I needed matching socks, grabbed some of those as well. The staff gathered round the table and gave high fives to the kids and friendly greetings to Jessy and myself. 

Our next stop was Stillwater, OK, another 45 minutes to the west. We all piled into the truck once again, snuggled real close together and set off for the next piece of our adventure. This short but eventful trek included lots of loud noises from the children, many scolds from the mother, and a lot of cloud gazing by myself. We arrived in Stillwater barely alive and barely speaking. Here, Jessy and I dropped off the preciously angelic children with a babysitter and scooted out of there faster than a snake on the trail.

Even though at this point the day was nearly gone and we still had another two hours drive ahead, we felt the need to relish the new kid-free phase of our adventure and we stopped for some healthy and nourishing pre race food at a local Mexican food dive. I enjoyed enchiladas covered in greasy cheese sauce and a large margarita and Jessy went to town on some veggie fajitas and had a margarita as well. We also took a moment to take some selfies together, talk about life, make jokes and at one point even bothered to discuss race strategy.

As we finished our meal, the sun was gone and we got back in the truck to drive to finish our drive to Mowdy Ranch, the race site for the following morning. We began the final leg and moved through Oklahoma backroads, cruising by GPS navigation until at around 11:30 pm, Google maps told us we had arrived at our destination. 

I looked to the left. 

Jessy looked to the right.

There was no ranch. There were no mustangs. There were just more dark and endless Oklahoma backroads. We both began scouring the Facebook page for the event, the website for the race and the mustang preserve and various other resources to try and find the actual address of our destination. 

After much search we found some information to give us some hint of direction and continued our journey. Through the night we moved until after many stops and many “recalculating route” calls from our phones, we found Mowdy. 

There was a bright moon, shadowed by pointalistic clouds that wisp’d over and away from our greatest light source. The dim truck headlights lit a single track gravel road that turned into the ranch. We followed the slow road through the dark shadows to some cars, but hoped to find more campers further in. We continued our slow roll forward, stopping so I could hop out periodically and open creaky gates to the sound track of Jessy’s laughter and my jokes at the absurdity of the final portion of our journey. 

Around 1am we finally found rows of tents and perched my tired Ranger beside a low tree and quickly set up camp. We threw my small tent up, tossed some blankets inside, set alarms and fell happily and exhaustedly into slumber. 

Three hours later the first alarm sounded at 4:24 am.

Seven minutes later, the snooze function called again.

Four minutes after that, the phone did again sing its morning tune.

Two minutes, and again. 

Fine.

Tired and stumbling in the dark, we grab flashlights and clothing. Seek packet pick up and hot coffee. Fireball is, of course, poured into coffees, and commented on, admired by, or scoffed at by all passing runners. I filled by pack with water, electrolyte chews, toilet paper in a bag, extra contacts and honey waffles. Jessy took some contact solution and Nuun energy tabs for me to have at her aide station. I was wearing a moisture wicking tank underneath a technical t-shirt. As always, I lastly grabbed the hat I choose for the day, pinned on my bib and was ready.

RJ and Summer Chiles, Sizzlin Sasquatch race directors, llama owners, and great people, were working the aide station with Jessy for the race. They drove up to where we finished our final prep for the day, grabbed the cooler and supplies from us and then Jessy kindly walked me toward the start line. It was 5:23am, still very dark despite the still bright moon, and seven minutes before the official race start. 

“Oh no! I don’t have my headlamp!!” I turn, but she smiles, and holds it up, wrapped around her wrist. I smile, take it, and thank her.

With a kiss, she wishes me luck and goes off toward RJ’s truck. I shuffle in with the other runners to listen to final instructions and send off.

3, 2, 1, Go!!

Running by headlamp is still rather new to me. It is a whole new animal altogether as it does make footing easy because you see the narrow window you have for placement, and focus is simple with no distraction. But you also lose your peripheral and all sight much further than a few feet in front of you. 

Knowing I am new with night running and that I have a tendency to start with an overly zealous pace, I watched the lead pack get a little further down the trail as I tried to detain my speed. After a nice mile warm up I started to find a nice cadence and fell in line behind a runner with a light much brighter than mine. We trotted on through the dark, breathing and listening to our feet move over rocks and grass, catching swift glances at the territory surrounding. 

It felt like only a few quick moments before the first aide station moved into sight. With two still nearly full water bottles and no need of calories at this early hour, I ran past without stopping. The runner I was following did stop for water, so I now continued my cadence alone. 

I breathed and ran. The sun began to peer over the horizon and the Ranch that I have been on for several hours now came into full view for the first time. I ascended a steep incline, using trees to help pull my weight up. At the top of the climb, I moved through giant boulders, sparkling grey with granite and Micah, small green mossy coverings, giving them a Disney-esque air. Once past those a full horizon view greeted me with good morning salutations.

The Ranch lands rolled, spotted with small lakes and tree lined inlets as the wooded areas spread for miles. I could see a line of the Mowdy Mustangs facing toward me on the other side of a far fence. They saw me on their land, enjoying their trails. I smiled to myself, recognizing that I was literally running with horses today. On I ran.

Second aide station: Jessy and Summer’s cheering greeted me as I ran downhill toward their canopy. RJ looked at his watched and let me know I was moving at a good pace. I refilled my water bottles and grabbed some chips for salt and fat calories. I started to run out, being very conscious that my girlfriend was watching me and definitely wanting to look good, but I had failed to properly re-strap my water bottles. The left one jumped out of it’s carrier and into the dusty trail in front of me. Whoops… 

I ran.

Third aide station: Manned by the Red Dirt Runners, this luau themed stop had great volunteers and lots of fun food. I stopped in and rinsed my dusty bottle off, got more water, ate pickles and set out. This area of trail wound over and around a creek that ran through the property. Sometimes I crossed via an inset bridge, sometimes I jumped using branches for leverage and feeling like Tarzan. Once I slipped and slid and fell. 

I ran. 

The trail moved in a series of figure eights so my next aide station was again at the luau before heading back toward the starting area, where I would repeat the loop I just did. I stopped for more water and pickles.

I ran. 

The second loop took me back up the climbs to the cool boulders and to the summit with a pictueresque view. It brought me again to Jessy, with whom I enjoyed two shots of fireball and some chips. I filled up with electrolyte fuel instead of water because the heat was settling in. 

I ran.

Back to the Luau, but this time, I was sharing the trail with the 5k and 10k runners that started their race a few hours after we started ours. The aide stops took a bit longer as there were more runners needing supplies. The volunteers were more taxed and the trail more clogged. 

I ran. 

I paced slowly and smartly up hills and planned smart for the fatigue that was surely coming. I could feel my brain tiring and my hamstrings began to feel heavy. There was a slight ache in my knee from a fall when it was still dark. 

I ran.

My brain was really tired. I moved to the top of a hill where the trail split and on a four wheeler sat two red headed, 20 something boys who both looked like Ed Sheeran. The two Ed Sheerans asked which race I was, and when I answered “50k” the Ed Sheerans in unison pointed down the trail to the left. While still trying to figure out why the grammy winning singer was at the ranch and if he really had a twin brother, I was staring at my feet and neglecting to look down the trail ahead. 

I ran. Into a tree. Headfirst. 

I came out of the woods for my final short loop that would finish out my race, but now with the more crowded trails and more fatigued volunteers there was some confusion on where I needed to turn for the final few miles. I had spent the day following white flags, but now needed to locate a specific turn to cut the north loop short and finish up. I headed into the woods confused having received two different sets of directions as I passed through the mid section of trail juncture. My brain was more exhausted and my legs where feeling more and more like lead. I had maintained the position of lead female the entire race, but as I stopped to figure out my route, I was passed for the first time. I tried to pace behind the new leader, but she made a turn I was unsure of and I lost her as she moved too quick into some trees. 

My GPS told me I have already run 30 miles, and my timer had me 5 hours and thirty minutes since race start. But instead of hearing cheers from the finish, I was frustrated and alone in the woods. I sat down on a log and cursed Ed Sheehan and the tree that hit me in the head. I had made a goal when I set out that morning to beat this 50 kilometer course in under six hours. I was lost and would probably not hit that goal. I looked at the blood on my knee then kicked a pile of rocks in frustration. 

I immediately laughed at myself, alone and bloody, kicking rocks in the woods. I made a decision. I decided this was my race and my adventure. I was running with horses and I was going to love every second of it. And I had. I had jumped creeks and seen lakes and boulders. I ran into a beautiful sunrise and drank fireball with my girlfriend. I met runners at aide stations and felt great nutritionally and though tired, physically was delighted with my body’s performance. 

I ran. 

And I smiled. And I passed a runner I recognized going the opposite way down the trail. I laughed knowing I was very lost but a few minutes later heard a familiar cry. It was Jessy and Summer. I ran down a different trail line toward their canopy, confused but happy. Tammie, a fellow Yeti runner was even at the station as I arrived. We took a quick selfie as I continued to not know how I got here. Jessy and RJ pointed down a new path behind them, telling me I was less than a mile from the finish. I stood there startled and started to stand and chat, but Jessy cheered me forward.

“You’re almost there!”

“I can maybe make my goal!”

Still standing.

“Yea- so run!”

“Ohhhhh!!”

I ran. I crossed the finish line. I made my goal.

It was a great trail, a great run, and a fun finish.

Postlude:

After walking around the finish line festivities for a bit and enjoying some watermelon, beer, and BBQ, I found the race director, Kit. Asked her the best way to get back to the aide station where Jessy, RJ, and Summer were working and she called over two boys driving a nearby gator over. Lo and behold, it was the two Ed Sheerans.

They were two relatives of the Mowdy Ranch owners and they each had a medium build, fire red hair with the medium length swooping cut, and light, freckled skin. I chuckled to myself and enjoyed the bumpy ride back into the woods.