After dragging myself out of bed on yet another Saturday before dawn, I met my friends for the trip to Vegas. Over bagels, water, and other forms of snacks and hydration, we made our way through the desert.
Upon reaching Vegas, we were a little amazed to see it was raining and muggy. We waited in line to catch a picture with the famous land mark:
The air was thick with humidity and our excitement! We decided that eating was our next priority. After driving around the streets of Vegas without the ability to find the Rio, we eventually made it. Upon arrival we realized this very popular buffet was going to require patience. The line was worse than a ride at Disneyland!
We finally made our way to the food and did what every great runner does: carb load! I carefully chose food that I hoped would not upset my stomach, but would provide nutrition for a 7-8 hour run. Champagne was included, so of course we partook in that as well. We rationalized that as a way to calm our anxiety about the race :)
At this point it was about 3:30 in the afternoon. We had the choice of going to check in at the Luxor and take a nap, or go to the Expo at the Hard Rock. We decided we needed to get the Expo over with, so we made our way over there. Arriving early, we decided to gamble a bit. After I donated $5.00 to the casino, I was done. I can't understand the need to sit in front of those machines and feed your hard-earned money to it.
The doors opened to the expo and I was amazed. To call it an expo would be way too generous. It was packet pick up and a table of shirts for sale. After Disney and Rock N Roll events, this was pathetic! We snapped a few aliened themed pics:
After the "expo" we made our way to the Luxor, parked, and checked in. It was another crazy drive full of me pulling into the wrong place. That seemed to be the theme of this trip.
We got to our room about 5:30 pm. We had to be back at the Hard Rock by about 8:30. The plan was to take a nap, but by the time we got everything settled and ready for the race, there was not a lot of time left. I was a little nervous too, so sleep was hard to come by.
We got dressed and ready to go in plenty of time. To this point, we had been very relaxed and finished everything with plenty of time. Unfortunately, that was about to change. It took quite a while to get the car out of the valet and make our way over to the Hard Rock. Upon arrival, it was very obvious that we were not getting into the parking lot. There were cars and buses everywhere and no one was moving. I was panicking and worried we would not make the bus. CP jumped out of the car to hold a bus for us. TH was waiting for us and trying to figure out where to meet us. It was chaos. Thankfully, we found a parking lot close by, jumped out, and ran to the bus in plenty of time. Once we got there though, it was another issue to find the right bus. UGH... didn't anyone tell you people we were already nervous and anxious about this process? We finally found each other and I plopped down in our seats.
And THEN came the bus ride! I had really hoped all the excitement was over. I wanted to sleep and relax as much as possible. That is NOT what happened.
We were about 20 minutes outside of Vegas. We could still make out the skyline, when the bus made a u-turn. It may not have been the case, but it seemed like all the other buses passed us and we were the only ones that turned around. My poor friend and seat mate was made very nervous by this. I am pretty sure she was convinced we were being abducted. We all loudly wondered what was going on when the bus driver informed us that he was following another driver that was lost. No biggie, right?
Well, I fitfully slept as we wound our way through total blackness. It really seemed like we were driving to nowhere. At some point the bus stopped and made a turn in the middle of the road. Imagine a huge charter bus turning around in the road, on a 2 lane road, with very little shoulder. It was quite an experience. CP loudly proclaimed it was time for the ultra runners to get off the bus. We all got a chuckle out of that. My poor seatmate was beyond stressed by the bus driver's behavior. I was repeating to myself that it was no biggie and that he would get us there eventually. After another crazy driver move at a "Y" in the road, we finally made it to the side of the road and the location of the famous "black mailbox" (that is actually white) and the start line:
My thoughts? It was DARK! We were still waiting on 2 lost buses, so we stood around and waited. At about 12:10 a.m., the race director told us to take off. It was a pretty anti-climactic start!
To best understand the course and what I knowingly subjected myself to, you have to see this course map:
You are seeing that correctly. 13 miles uphill!
We started out comfortable and cruised along. We talked to people and settled in to the reality of running at night. It was not as bad as I thought it would be. My ankles and calves burned a little from the hill. I think it was a good thing that we could not see it in front of us.
At about mile 6 or so we ran across Vance. He is 9 and was proudly sporting his ET medals from previous years as he manned the water station with his parents. He told us how he always runs the last 2 miles of the race each year. Before we knew it, his Mom was telling him to go ahead and run with us. So... he did! Now we are running in the middle of the night with a hitchhiker :)
He declared that to our left was Area 51 and, "you can't go there or you will get arrested." He told us about his life as the only kid in the area. He was quite a hoot. Eventually his parents drove up and he jumped in the car. We met him again at another station, but sadly did not get his picture. He was a neat kid. He hopes to run the 1/2 and full marathon out there someday. I hope he does!
At about mile 9 I started worrying that we were not going to make it up the hill with any time to finish the rest of the race. For some reason I was having serious anxiety issues. I started pulling away from my friends. Before I knew it, I could not hear them anymore. I was so sad, because I did not mean to do it. It also meant that I was alone. I decided to push it up the hill and then wait for them. Out of nowhere, I was able to find the strength to increase my speed and finally make it to the top of that hill. When I got to the mile 13 aid station, I hugged the lady working it. I felt serious euphoria to know there were no more serious hills to climb.
I then faced the dilemma of not knowing where my friends were and what I should do about it. I decided I should push on and that I may lose steam later when they would catch up to me. I felt really strong and wanted to push as hard for as long as I could. I plugged in my iPod and settled in to finish the remaining 18 miles.
I have to admit, I had a good time. I enjoyed my time alone in the darkness. I found people to talk to and then we would part ways. I ate and drank at each station and talked to the volunteers. No stress, no anxiety.
At about mile 20 I came to Rachel, Nevada and the Little Al'e'Inn. It was the finish line. For the 1/2 marathoners, they were finished. For the full and ultra runners, we had to pass it, go out and turn around, and come back for our finish. The guy at the aid station reassured me that the sun would be up soon and it would get easier. I happily set out for the final 11.7 miles and in search of the sunrise.
Eventually I reached the marathon turn around. It was crazy to me that I still didn't get to turn around. The volunteers checked off my bib number and pointed down the road to the ultra turn around. It really looked like it was only a mile or 2 away. Boy was I wrong. You see, they quit putting the mile markers up after the marathon turn around. I am not sure why they did that, but it really played games with my head. It seemed like the lights at the turn around kept getting farther away, the more I ran. It was the longest few miles of my life.
When I finally got there, this is what I found:
Heavenly sight, for sure!
And then this:
That's right. They had packed up the aid station!?! What the heck? So I filled up my bottles with their water and kept trucking along.
I got back to the marathon turnaround and the volunteer told me that I had 3 miles to go and 70 minutes to do it. I started crying. She asked me why. I said, "I can crawl 3 miles in 70 minutes! I am going to do this!" I considered walking the final leg, but then I changed my mind. I wanted to run. Somehow, after over 6 hours, I still wanted to run. I found some peppy songs on the ole iPod and was determined to crank out the last 3 strong.
About 2 miles later those volunteers passed me in their truck. They stopped to cheer for me. I cried again after they left. It meant a lot.
The finish line was finally in sight. The most un-ceremonial finish I have ever seen. A tired guy threw a medal around my neck and took my picture. And that was it. 7 hours, 18 minutes, 56 seconds. I didn't really know what to do with myself at this point. No one even cared that I was done. No one even noticed. There were other zombie runners walking around with breakfast. We didn't even make eye contact. Too. Tired.
I found my bag and changed my clothes. I checked out the buffet, but decided it had been sitting there since midnight and I wasn't about to touch it. I bought a few crappy alien souvenirs, marveled in the fact that I had ran to Deliverance, and went outside to wait for my friends.
I took the following pics:
There was an emotional end to my friends' journey. I will allow them to have that for themselves and not share it here. I just have to say though that the support and encouragement of other runners is amazing. Once you make friends, there is a connection that non-running friends just don't understand. I am very thankful for these ladies and the experience that we shared over this weekend. It changed me. For the better, and for a life time.
Fear tried to stop me and I kicked fear's ass.
Fatigue tried to stop me and I kicked fatigue's ass.
Darkness tried to stop me and I kicked it's ass too.
That's right. 31.7 miles. At midnight. Uphill. At over 4,000 feet above sea level.
I am a bad ass.
I am an ultra marathoner!
