Ultra Running Magazine cover |
I remembered seeing that Ultra Running magazine cover
several years back of the Ouachita Trail 50 floating around the internet when I
first started to get into Ultras, and have wanted to climb that defining
feature of the race, Pinnacle Mountain, ever since. Like a giant mound of large boulders stacked
haphazardly for nearly 800 feet straight up into the air, Pinnacle Mountain is quite visually striking, and
is unlike anything I have ever encountered before. More of a rock climbing expedition than the
typical runnable and hikable switchback trails up hills that I’m use to,
climbing on all fours on top of giant boulders that
you can’t help but wonder if you’re going to be the unlucky one that causes one
of them to get loose…was a bit unnerving at first, but I had such fun trying to
figure out routes and stable footing up Pinnacle Mountain, that I didn’t want
it to end. After feeling the euphoria of
a hard effort in summiting that Mountain and being greeted with gorgeous views
from up top, I was reminded yet again on why I put so much effort into pursuing
Ultras, and that is to fully live and experience awe-inspiring moments like
those.
Going down... |
I fell in love with the Trails and Mountains of Arkansas at
the inaugural Run LOViT 100K in late February and wanted to explore more of
what the state had to offer, my pacer for that race, Elizabeth Kimble,
recommended Ouachita Trail 50 Mile being held two months later (I had forgotten
when the race started), so I immediately signed up, whether I was ready for it
or not. My recovery after Run LOViT was
very slow, not only did I sustain a bad ankle sprain that took over a month to
fully heal, my endocrine system was seriously compromised as well; for nearly a
month I experienced omnipresent fatigue (legs felt like lead weights), a racing
heart-rate even while resting, a weakened immune system (was frequently sick), and
shortness of breath. I’ve read that this
could result from training and racing too hard and for too long of a period
without rest, and that’s exactly what I had been doing for nearly 6 months
prior leading up to Run LOViT. The
months between my three biggest races thus far, Cactus Rose 100 Mile (DNF at
mile 70), Bandera 100K, and Run LOViT 100K, was spent doing endless hill repeats
to get ready for tough Mountain races in the future, which I credit for
allowing me to be able to finish the latter two difficult 100Ks, but it had
left me physically and mentally exhausted by the end.
About a month after Run LOViT, my body and my sprained ankle, finally started feeling strong enough to tackle higher mileage in the 40s and 50s with lots of hill training, but I didn’t have much time to gradually ramp up my training, so I planned to go into Possum Kingdom 55K, two weeks before Ouachita Trail 50 Mile, as my last long training run with no taper. I finished Possum Kingdom 55K in pretty good shape, but I had serious doubts my legs would be able to recover in just two weeks for a tough 50 miler at Ouachita, and considered dropping to their 50K option, until Elizabeth offered to pace me again a week before the race if her knee felt healthy enough. Just before the race though, she had to back out of the pacing gig, but I already had it in my mind to run the 50 Mile, so I figured what the hell, my legs always seem to miraculously (or misleadingly…) recover to full strength during race morning.
About a month after Run LOViT, my body and my sprained ankle, finally started feeling strong enough to tackle higher mileage in the 40s and 50s with lots of hill training, but I didn’t have much time to gradually ramp up my training, so I planned to go into Possum Kingdom 55K, two weeks before Ouachita Trail 50 Mile, as my last long training run with no taper. I finished Possum Kingdom 55K in pretty good shape, but I had serious doubts my legs would be able to recover in just two weeks for a tough 50 miler at Ouachita, and considered dropping to their 50K option, until Elizabeth offered to pace me again a week before the race if her knee felt healthy enough. Just before the race though, she had to back out of the pacing gig, but I already had it in my mind to run the 50 Mile, so I figured what the hell, my legs always seem to miraculously (or misleadingly…) recover to full strength during race morning.
I really should have researched Ouachita Trail 50 Mile more
thoroughly before the race, as I was completely caught unaware about how
aggressive the Aid Station cutoffs were (I can hear in my mind the Race
Director calling me a Dumbass…very nice lady, btw), and I wouldn’t have spent
so much time taking pictures and enjoying the views during the climb up and
down Pinnacle Mountain at mile 5; which I must have spent close to 45 minutes
just on that Mountain. It was around the
mile 10.6 Aid Station that I knew I was in a lot of trouble for the rest of the
day, when a volunteer there informed me I had about an hour and half to make
the next five and half very hilly miles to the Northshore Aid Station to meet
the cutoff…I started panicking. I
red-lined it most of the way to Northshore, running as much of the long hills
during that five and half mile stretch that I could, and barely made the cutoff
by 15 minutes. I had my doubts that I
could sustain such an effort for the next 34 miles that I had left to go, and
considered taking the 50K turnaround point, but Elizabeth, who was volunteering
there, assured me the next 10 miles to the Highway 10 Aid Station turnaround
and back would be fairly flat and runnable, she could’ve mentioned the oncoming
heat wave though.
After a cool and foggy morning to start the race (too foggy,
as we had a scare at the beginning of the race, when a Runner was grazed in the
arm by a Car driving without their headlights on during the beginning and end 3 mile road section), it was close to noon by now,
and the temperatures were climbing into the mid 80s with crushing humidity; I
had been dealing with the rising temps pretty well all day up until then, and
it was my first time testing out wearing a long sleeve shirt for a hot
race. I’ve been a fan of the Brooks
Equilibrium short sleeve tech shirts for years now, they’re paper thin with a
semi-fit silky to the touch fabric that moves well with the body and arms,
extremely breathable, and wicks and dries moisture fast; I wanted to experiment
with the longer sleeve versions of the Brooks shirt to see how well the cooling
effect would be with the sleeves being able to retain more cold water for
cooling. This strategy worked very well
for the most part, especially when the body of my shirt became too saturated
with sweat and water that I dumped onto my head (which is counter-productive to
the evaporative cooling effect), I can use the long sleeves for an extra
cooling alternative. When the aid
stations are only 4-5 miles a part with plenty of ice and water on hand, I feel
I can run forever in the heat with this setup (I carried an extra 20oz bottle
along just for cooling), but the next 10+ miles to the HWY 10 turnaround had a
killer 8 mile stretch with only warm water jugs placed under a tree in the
middle for refills (there's one last aid station 2 miles from HWY 10)…it was a slog that I had to get through twice.
Running in my Brooks Equilibrium LS shirt |
Perhaps my legs weren’t quite as recovered from Possum Kingdom as I thought, or it was a combination of going all out for the past couple of hours in order to make cutoffs, but my quads started locking up with fatigue several miles into this out and back stretch. With the flatter section, I thought I may have been able to relax a bit on the gas, but I was helpfully reminded upon reaching the cache of water jugs three miles in, that I was squarely in the “Red Zone” for cutoffs, so I ignored the throbbing quads and developing foot pain, and kept hauling it. Once I got to HWY 10 at the Marathon distance mark, I could switch into my pair of Altra Olympus for some cushiony relief; I didn’t want to risk climbing Pinnacle Mountain in my Olympus at the start, since the shoes are still new to me and I feared slippage on those boulders too much.
This 10 mile Out & Back wasn’t exactly the prettiest
section of the trail… While the trails leading up to Northshore were quite
beautifully constructed (with bridges, stone structures, and enjoyable
twisty-turny and up and down paths), well maintained, and looks like they’re
well worn with hikers and runners, the trails after Northshore were pretty
over-grown with grass (I wondered if I was lost a few times when the trails
were too over-grown) and ran in a boring straight line for the most part; I
wouldn’t be surprised if this section was only used for the 50 mile portion of
the race all year. To be fair though,
this section had it’s moments with running under towering trees and the
numerous creek crossing were nice diversions (I wish I had the time to snap a few photo's of this area), but for the most part I kept my
head down and focused on moving forward, my legs were falling apart and I
desperately needed to reach my drop bag.
Again, I barely made the cutoff for the HWY 10 aid station
turnaround with around 10 minutes to spare; after running all 35 miles at
Possum Kingdom two weeks ago in my Altra Olympus, I had already forgotten just
how stiff as a wooden board the cushion is on the Altra Lone Peaks, my already
fatigued quads were being pounded into jelly, my feet were being beat up on the
rocks, and the heat and humidity made it feel like a swamp out there. At the Aid Station, I took my time to change
into the Olympus, while downing bottles full of ice cold Coke to cool off; when
I left I felt like a new Man again, Coke always recharges me on a hot day in a
way no sports drink can ever match, and the difference between the Olympus and
the Lone Peaks felt as stark as night and day.
I trotted out feeling a lot more confident about finishing the race, but
it wouldn’t last for more than a few miles.
I quickly passed up a handful of ladies that I’ve been running
with and trading places for the last 10 or so miles, but half way through I
started fading badly again, and the troubles and frustrations grew. My quads were only given a temporary reprieve
before it started locking up again, and with the temps now reaching peaks into
the high 80s, I started getting a bit delirious from the heat. The Ice water I filled up my water bottles
with grew warm in a matter of just a couple of miles; dumping warm water on me
in hot and muggy conditions was proven counter-productive. Needing to make cutoffs, I kept my head down
and powered through the fatigue, pain, and heat, but in my half deliriousness
state I got loss several times on my way back; a few of those times I was lucky
to have someone behind me call me back before I got too far, but other times I
chewed up 5 or more precious minutes trying to find the trail markers.
After getting lost for about the fourth time, and bumping
dangerously close to the cutoff, I think my legs finally signaled to my brain
to call it quits, by locking up for good on the last mile, where every stride
felt like someone taking a hammer to my quads.
For the last mile I felt like walking it in to intentionally miss the
cutoff, so that I wouldn’t have to make excuses to Elizabeth and the other
Volunteers to not continue or even be talked into running further, but my
stubborn pride wouldn’t allow it. I
pushed myself during the last mile to make the final cutoff by five minutes, arriving
with the saddest tired dog face I could muster, and immediately sat down at
Northshore and refused to get back up until the time to continue finally ran
out on me, DNF'ing at 37'ish miles.
Ouachita Trail is no baby 50 miler, with Pinnacle Mountain
chewing up so much of your time at the start (making that 13 hr Race cutoff
seem more like a 12 hr one), you have to be prepared to constantly be on the
move, because there’s not much room for error, easy pacing, and periodic
resting in order to make the aggressive Aid Station cutoffs. It was important for me, mentally, to know
that I could make that last Aid Station cutoff on tired legs (and the hottest
race day on record, I’m told), because I definitely want to have another shot
at this race with fresher legs for next year; if anything, this race is a great
excuse to see and climb Pinnacle Mountain once more. While I’m 100% sure DNF’ing was the right
decision, I’m also sure that I was capable of death marching it in, especially
since Northshore was the last cutoff to meet, and you could technically run
past the official 13 hr cutoff and still claim a finish; I just didn’t have the
desire to do so with my biggest race of the year Bryce Canyon 100 Mile coming
up on the horizon, the potential costs would have been too great in terms of
injuries and recovery time in order to finish Ouachita. The trails at Ouachita and Pinnacle Mountain
were gorgeous, and I would’ve love for the Aid Station cutoffs to be scaled for
a 14 hr cutoff, instead of a 13 hr one, to take it a bit easier out there; as
it stands though, be prepared for a race if you enter the 50 Mile, if you
wanted a bit of day-tripping, sightseeing, and hanging out at Aid Stations with
your Ultras, sign up for the 50K option…I know I’ll be lining up for the 50
Mile again next year.