Bandera 100K 2011

It all started with an offhand comment by Jack's brother Jason, telling me to find a race in Texas so we could go visit him. I have been on a trend of picking races in states where family members live since we lost my cousin Sam in a tragic Railway accident Dec 09. I had been extremely lucky to have recently visited while in Minnesota on business, and since I have been combining running with family visits. It was either the same day or the following day that Jason made the comment, I received an email from the race director of the VT50 which I had recently run. It stated that the VT50 was part of the Montrail race series, and listed other races that were part of this series. I saw Bandera TX on the list, and went to the web site to investigate. 2 hours SW of Austin, we could easily run the race and drive up for a visit. They had a 25k, 50k or 100k option, and there motto was

A Trail Run of Rugged and Brutal Beauty where Everything Cuts, Stings, or Bites

That clinched it. It was further than I had ever run (previous distance 54.77 and a 50 miler) and a stepping stone to my ultimate challenge, the 100 miler. For those who measure in mileage, the 100k = 62.1371 miles. I think we were the 7th and 8th people signed up for the 100k. I told Jack that I had signed him up "as a prize" and the trooper that he is, he went along with it.
A couple of months later, the web site announced that the race had been chosen as the USATF national trail run Championship. The top 10 male and females would receive a USATF medal, along with the belt buckle we would receive from the race director if we finished the 100k. (for non-runners: the belt buckle is the ultimate prize, it is usually awarded only for 100 milers, finishing under a certain time cut off, usually 24 hours. It is like receiving a medal for finishing a marathon, only 100 times better. The fact that this race was giving belt buckles to finishers of the 100k was daunting, and spoke to the difficulty of the course). I looked at the list of those registered for the Championship, and there were only 7 women at the time. There were 170 signed up for the regular 100 k, and I knew more could join, but I thought, what the hell. When would I ever get the chance again to compete in a National Championship? And if the numbers stayed in my favor, may even get a USATF medal? So I signed up. Not much later, the number of women climbed to 14. I looked up 10 of the names for race results, and discovered I was way out of my league. These women were presidents of their running club, had WON 100 milers, sub 3 hour marathons etc. Oh well, I still had a chance at a buckle and got the experience of competing in a championship!

The day before we left we got a call from Jason that his friend had been in a tragic accident, and he would need to be out of town helping the family with support, arrangements etc most of the time, but still wanted us to come. We flew into Austin and spent some time with Stacy and Aiden, Jack's 2 year old nephew, and their 2 pups. We went for a very small run around the neighborhood because my legs felt bloated and tight from the travel. We were both a little concerned at how hard that little run felt. The next morning we set out on our road trip to Bandera. We would return after the race to spend some time with Jason. I felt slightly dissappointed that Austin was such a big city, but the further we traveled, the more wild and open the land became, and I began to relax.
We checked into The Flying L Ranch. It was adorable, and I took some photos of a sign pointing to the "Ghost town" and some shops which included "Cactus Jack's".











Our next stop was to time our drive to the race start, and check out the terrain in person. We drove to the park and had a chance to chat with some of the volunteers. They were very friendly, one of them was an older gentleman who had run the race 3 times. They told us where to park in the morning, to feel free to look around for as long as we like, and gave us some tips on the course. He said the rocks were everywhere, try not to get frustrated and don't fight them, just go with it. Our feet would be sore. They asked where we were from, and when we told them Vermont they laughed out loud and shook their heads like we didn't have a chance. We thanked them and moved on to check out the course. I knew we were far from home, so I took no offense that they didn't seem to be aware that Vermonters aren't soft. I also knew a VT female WON this race the previous year.
The course seemed to flash back and forth between single track dusty trail, to completely covered in large rocks. I kept my eyes and ears open for rattle snakes and scorpions. I had read that they were mostly dormant in the winter, but it was 70 degrees F that day, and I wasn't so sure. I was very excited to spot an armadillo on the way back.
That night we attended the pre-race dinner at the Silver Sage corral. I enjoyed seeing the other runners, and we sat at a table with a USATF race official, a young man who said last year had taken him over 23 hours to complete. He had gotten injured and "hobbled in to the finish". We were in awe. We sat with another young woman who said she was not running this year, she was volunteering. Later in our discussion it came out that her name was Melanie. I said "wait, have you won this before?" She replied yes, twice. I told her I had read her blog and really enjoyed it. I read as many blogs as I could find before arriving, trying to get an idea of what the experience would be like. I was amused by the T-shirt on one of the young girls, that said "YOU RUN MARATHONS? THAT'S SO CUTE!"

Later that day I got a call from my dog sitter. I had taken one of my girls to the vet the previous week for arthritis in her hind quarter, and had set up another appt for when I returned. I left detailed instructions on her medication and comfort. The call was very bad news, she had taken a turn for the worst, lost function in her back legs, had to go to the emergency vet. The X-rays did not show arthritis, it was neurological, more than likely tumors on the spine. She would need a mylogram and surgery if it was treatable. I felt utterly helpless. All I could do was give direction over the phone and my credit card numbers. My heart was destroyed, as I am more attached to these dogs than I can explain.
I turned to Jack for a voice of reason. The facts,
1. we could not change our flight, we could spend thousands of dollars to try, would probably not get back any sooner, and there was nothing they could do until the day we were supposed to return anyway. If I spent all my money trying to get home earlier, I would not have enough for the expensive treatments.
2. This was the longest, hardest run of my life. I had to find a way to deal and commit to it if I was going to start.

I lay in bed with tears streaming down my face until I fell asleep. In the morning I tried to be emotionless and perform all my pre-race duties. I committed to getting myself to the start line.
It was dark and cold when we arrived. We checked in, delivered our drop bags and I got another number from the USATF official that I had to display on my back side at all times. It said F40.

The race started at 7:30. It was chip timed so we ran over the starting mat. I started fairly close to the front for me, in the first 25% or so, just because of where we happened to be standing. It was light out at this point. I had chosen to wear my tights, as it was supposed to be 34 at the start, 60 later with a possibility of rain. I usually run cold, and also was warned by the website and the pre-race briefing of the Sotol Texas cactus, which was quite sharp, and abundant in the hilly sections. The tights allowed me to plow through the cactus without worry, but I did take home a piece of cactus which still remains in my right hand.

We ran for a short period, and came to a hill that was steep enough that everyone started walking. It was single track so the decision was made for you. The sun got bright and it warmed up quickly. It wasn't long before my long sleeve was tied around my waist and I was carrying my beanie. I knew I should put on a hat, since the sun was beating on my head, but my first drop bag was not until Crossroads, the 3rd and 4th aid station. It was good to feel the adrenaline of the start, It numbed the sadness briefly and got me out into the course. I had originally wanted to run with Jack. I was afraid of being alone later in the race if it got cold and dark, I tend to get disoriented. Jack had told me the previous day he intended on beating me, so I was not surprised when he ditched me in the first mile.

The first aid station was called Nachos, it was only about 5 miles in, so I grabbed a couple of goldfish crackers and a salt pill and continued on. As the field thinned out, I found myself with more time to think. I would begin to get upset about my dog Dublin, and this would impede my breathing so I would try to concentrate on something else, that it would be a non malignant tumor they could easily remove, or I would replay a song in my head to drown out thoughts if they went negative. The track was "The stars at night, are big and bright...deep in the heart of Texas!" Think Adventures of Pee Wee Herman. I realized that Jack had done me a favor by ditching me, if he had been there I may have been emotionally weakened. Forced to rely on myself I was stronger.
Second aid station, Chappas. I refilled my camel back with water, took in more food, peanut butter and jelly, pringles, coca-cola. Yum. Another salt pill and washed it down with water and off again. I was as quick as possible out of the aid stations.
My breathing was heavier than I liked, my nose was running constantly. (This concerned me a bit as I have a history of breathing issues during races, one of the worst being the VT50. I had thought it was allergies, but it turned out I was sick. ) This time I was hoping for allergies. It was all over the Texas news that it was pollen season for their Mountain Cedar, and I was certainly reacting. The first half of the race was long and difficult. My nose ran the whole time and was raw by the halfway point. Luckily I remembered I had tucked 2 tissues into a pocket and these helped. After passing through Crossroads the second time I was looking forward to getting back to the Lodge (half way). How disappointed was I when I realized I had forgotten there was one more aid station, Last Chance before I got to halfway? I had to have a reality check. I run hard to train myself against adversity. Well this was adversity right here and now, so run. Things started turning around. My breathing eased up, I finally hit the halfway point and could concentrate on the second half. I was getting a snack at the aid station when I heard "Krit-Krat?" It was Jack! I honestly expected not to see him again until the end. He said he had just gotten there, and asked if this is where I said "catch me" and he never saw me again. I told him he could probably catch me, I was starting to slow down. I asked if he wanted me to wait for him, and he said no, go ahead. He was carrying a cup. I took off with out grabbing enough to eat.
I remembered Jack's words, if I started to get upset about Dubby-Dubs to push harder. I started to welcome the discomfort, physical pain was distracting from emotional pain. But amazingly there was not much physical discomfort, I had dealt with much worse. I concentrated running in any area I could, and when it was too steep and/or rocky, moving as quickly as I could. I started to get really hungry before the next aid station. It was about lunch time, and I hadn't eaten enough at the last station. I pulled a gel from my camel back and ate it to get me to the next station. I also took a salt tab and a sports leg with plenty of water, and soon I was at Nachos again. I discarded my gel wrapper (Vermonters don't litter!) and ate lunch, while they refilled my camel back. Let me just say here how wonderful and competent all the volunteers were at the aid stations. I was on a mission during the race, so I didn't get to tell each and everyone, but they really were incredible. You pulled in, they filled your water, took down your number, what can they get you, set you up with food and off you went.
On my way to the next station, I asked someone what time it was. It was around 2:00 I think. I did not have my Garmin, they were not allowed if you were in the Championship, and I hadn't worn my watch in so long the batteries were dead. You were also not allowed pacers, but I realized they are really not necessary for a 100k. Well I realized I hadn't used the restroom all day, since about 6:30 in the morning. With all the water I had been taking in, I thought maybe I should make sure my kidneys were still functioning. There are not a lot of big trees in Texas, so I asked at the aid station. She started to walk me over to show me where the bathroom was, and then said, oh is it too far? It was about 0.15 miles away, and I told her I just couldn't let my boyfriend pass me. We laughed, and I almost changed my mind, but I decided I should check my kidney function so I ran off. All was well so I ran back. I noticed a lot of people I had passed along the way had caught up to me. One older man started talking to me about Jack. He said he had been running with him and said something about one of us catching the other at mile 40, and he told Jack he didn't think so because I was flying. I was flattered that anyone would say I was flying! I ran with him and two other men I had been passing back and forth for a while. One of the men wiped out HARD, and never had the chance to put his hands out to break his fall so he landed on his face and knee. We stopped with him for a few minutes, he was a little dizzy, but had all his faculties. I asked if he wanted me to run ahead and send someone back, but eventually he got up and started running again. We stayed with him for a while. I was amazed he was running. When I was pretty sure he would make it, at least to the next aid station, I told them I would see them at the next station and took off. They were taking walk breaks a bit more frequently than I needed to. I remember at one of the stops a woman telling us we had only about marathon distance to go, and thinking how good that sounded. A couple years ago this would have seemed crazy to me.
The sky darkened and the wind picked up. I remembered the race director Joe telling us to get out of the fields before the rain started. The mud and hay would stick to our shoes and make it much harder to run. I was trying to get as far as I could before the rain started and it got dark. I got pretty far. When I pulled into crossroads the volunteer filled my camel back quickly, said "you'll do the loop and come back here, then another 4.7 to last chance then 4.2 to the Lodge. You've got this". I took off feeling strong. It took a long time to get back to crossroads again. It started getting dark, and this slowed me down a bit. When I got back in, another man filled my pack. I asked him which leg had the giant hill, he said this one. He said the rain would start during this leg, but I'd be okay because I had my jacket around my waist. I thought I heard someone call my name, then I heard it again. It was Jack, he was at crossroads on the other side. He looked pale. He said he was sick and he didn't think he would make it. He said he thought he was going to call it and asked if I would mind. I said of course not. He had felt ill for some time and continued on hoping it would pass. A woman passed me as I was talking to him, I let her go. I felt bad that he looked so sick and I had been racing him in my mind. I told him to try to meet me at the finish and feel better. He said I looked good and was ahead of schedule. I did not know exactly what that meant, but I had told him I thought it would take me 16 hours so maybe I was ahead of that?
I took off quickly. I wanted to get to that hill before the rain started. When I got there it was both easier and harder than it had been the first time. Easier because I knew what to expect, I knew it did not actually go on forever. Harder because it was dark and my legs were tired. I imagined this is what a drunk elephant would look like trying to get up this hill. On the other side I tried to make my way down. It was loose shale and very steep. It was part that I was tired, part that it was dark, but it also seemed all the runners had loosened it more. I could not find a stable place to step. BAM! I went down hard. Okay, first time, I had seen many others wipe out way before this. BAM!! I went down again, harder. I swore out loud, a lot. My hands were cut and bleeding. BAM!!! This time I fell forward landing on my knee. I was pissed. This was so dangerous! What were they thinking? I was going to make it to the next aid station and tell someone what I thought.
By the time I made it to Last Chance I had cooled down. The guys joked with me and I asked them for a shot of tequila. When they actually started to pour me on, I said, no, no! I was joking. They said okay, but it might help your hands and the winner of the race drank a beer both times through. I told them if I had a mile left I would consider it, but I had 5 left and I already was going up the hills like a drunk.
The last leg it started to rain. The black rocks became slippery and I was a little timid to take chances after my wipe outs. Any place that was dirt I would run. I realized that for quite some time any place I could run I had been playing the music from the Grinch in my head- the part where he takes the sled with Max through the snowy mountains. I passed five people in that leg, I think two of them were runners and the other two with them were their pacers. It started to lightning and I picked it up because I was afraid they would call the race and I had come so far. In the last mile I was tempted to walk. I heard a woman's voice and could see their head lamps behind me. I think it was one of the couples I had passed. She was pacing the man and she was in a hurry for something. I heard her yell at him "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!" I didn't know what the hurry was but I figured I better run faster too! They passed me before the end and she was still yelling at him, come on come on! He said "I'm coming!" Jack was on the side line in a garbage bag cheering for me. I crossed the finish line and he ran up and congratulated me. Joe shook my hand and gave me my belt buckle. He peeked under my hat and said "Who is that?" I told him my name. I was so excited to have my buckle!! I asked them what my time was and they ran back and checked the clock. 14:58. Wow, I broke 15 hours, and I wasn't last! I realized the pacer was in a hurry to get her runner across under 15 hours. She did it!
The next morning we went to the breakfast and award ceremony. At the breakfast we sat with a young man wearing a VT50 beanie. I showed him my shirt, it was also the VT50. Turns out he was the winner, with an amazing time of 8:16, smashing the course record. Another girl told me she heard a rumor that Joe trucks in rocks to make the course even MORE difficult. I told her I believed he dumped them on the back of Lucky peak right before my second time down.
At the awards ceremony they began reading the names of the top ten females, and I was number 8! I was so surprised, I was going to get a USATF medal for the National Championship! We had no access to results and I had been certain I was last in the championship.
Before we left I heard someone call my name. I went to the the girl and asked if she called my name and she handed me an award and told me I won third place woman's Master. It was a beautiful piece of pottery. I was so surprised, and had such mixed emotions, I had to try not to cry. I decided to let myself be happy for this moment, because I knew it was going to be extremely difficult when I got home. A young man explained to me that the pottery was from the Tarahumara of Mexico, who are ultra runners. I thought this was very cool and told him I would look them up.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tarahumara

Before I left I had to find the race director Joe and shake his hand for such an amazing event.

I was able to make it back to spend time with my beautiful girl. She had a very large tumor on her spine that involved the bone and was terminal. I told them no more procedures and had her lay on my lap and we all pet her and told her how much she was loved. She made her happy noises for me one last time.