AnAcaciaTree: Kasha Runs An Ultra and Kiwi Gets a Pet

I'm not dead.

I could end this post right there, but Kiwi insists there is more to the story.

Saturday was Ultra Day. The Ledesma Ultra 50k was held at Fort Pulaski and Rails to Trails out toward Tybee Island, Georgia.

Dan Hernandez, (Check out his site here.) a higher up in Savannah running, decided that Savannah needed an ultra and that Rails to Trails needed some attention. R2T is a converted railroad now serving as a running, riding, walking trail spanning 6 miles from just past Bull River to Fort Pulaski. So he orchestrated a race. Actually, 3 races.

The 5k route took runners out and about through the foggy morning for some beautiful views of Fort Pulaski.

The 25k (15.5 mi) route did that, plus a trip over the bridge, down R2T, and back to Pulaski.

The 50k (31.5 mi) route did that. Twice. In the sun. At an unseasonal 75 degrees.

It was awesome!

At 8am, the 25 and 50k-ers set off through the woods. It was overcast and foggy, lending an almost eerie feel to the old fort. But the fog sure beat the predicted temperatures for the day! The first few miles flew by. 1, 2, 3, over the bridge. I reminded myself that speed was a nonissue, as my body was going to have to keep this up for hours and I needed to stay slow.

Over the bridge and on to the trail. I had the trail broken down into 3 mile sections in my mind. I just kept going. I passed some runners, others passed me. The 25k-ers were still with us at this point. The trail didn't feel lonely. 3 miles in was my first station stop. Gatorade and water and off again. To the turn around point, where the front runners were already headed back. More water and the first of many salt pills. Then off again.

I ran pretty much nonstop for the first 12 miles. Then a bathroom break and a move to walk-run. Back through the first 3 mile section and over the bridge.

Here I got to see part of my cheering section. Those who have been with us since the beginning will remember my first tri. I racked my bike next to Gary, who ran ultras and was really encouraging. Having run his own 50k the previous weekend, he was serving as a volunteer at this one. What a happy sight! Hearing "Go Kasha, go!" kept me running from the bridge to the end of the first half. I crossed the finish line for the first time at 3 hours and 3 minutes. Whoever announced my name even pronounced it correctly. Kay-sha instead of caw-sha. It's the little things.

...and out again! Kiwi and I headed back into the woods. We'd covered about 16 miles on water, gatorade, salt, and 2 gels. My legs hurt, but I had a finish line to get to.

The second trip around the fort was like running a different course. The fog had lifted, giving a beautiful, clear view of the fort, the water, the groundworks, and everything else. Because the 25k ended at the finish line, we 50k-ers were much more spread out now. I saw 2 men running about 50 yards in front of me and used them as a guide to maintain my pace.

Back over the bridge to the next aid station. While I was breathing too hard to talk, the amazing aid station workers had already interpreted my pointing and looks into filling my handheld and handing me an apple.

This deserves mentioning:

During races, volunteers do a few things. Hand out water, clean up cups, and lie about how awesome we look. The Ledesma volunteers took it a step further. They were prepared to open gels and unwrap food, help with clothing, and pick up tiny salt tabs that we didn't have the small motor control for. It takes a distance runner to know those things. And here they were on a Saturday, NOT running, so they could open my salt tabs and keep a mental list of which bathrooms were open. I would like a list of these people so I can thank each of them. It was like having an Ultra crew at every station.

Back to the trail!

I took the apple and tried to eat. The tiniest bites stayed in, for maybe 40 calories of food. During this section (about 18 miles in), the front runners began to pass me. They were about 3-4 miles out. (Assuming my math is correct.) I had over 10 miles to go. I kept moving, albeit slowly.

At the next aid station, I saw my brother-in-law, designated crew for the day; pull up. I was ready to go, so I left my fuel belt and music player for him to pick up. I wasn't using them and any extra weight was extra weight.

The next miles were the hardest. I was tired, it was hot, my feet hurt. But the only way out was through, and this wasn't a marathon with people whining about bad splits. This was an ultra where every runner made eye contact and told you to keep going. They asked how you were doing. They asked if you needed anything. Other people's mobile crews slowed on their bikes to ask if I had water.

...I may have been alone for miles at a time, but I was never on my own. I knew I could do this because people I'd never met had mentally already placed me across the finish line and it showed in their eyes.

All I had to do was exactly what they said to do. "Keep going." "Go slow." "You got this."

I hit the farthest station out for the 2nd and last time and headed back in. I was about 3 runners from the back. I pulled Kiwi off my arm in time to see "20% Battery Life."

Oh no!

Kiwi wasn't going to make it the whole way.

I think he was so excited, he went out too fast. I called Blake, my brother in law, and told him I was headed toward him and needed sunglasses and a hat.

Kiwi made it 27.48 miles and went black.

...my poor, sweet little "fone" only had a marathon in him that day.

At the aid station, Blake was waiting with my backpack while a volunteer was waiting in the trail to look for us and take my handheld. Word had already reached them that the station farthest away was out of water. They were waiting with a checklist of our names and numbers, knowing we would be struggling. She filled the handheld and had it back to me before I found my glasses.

I gave Kiwi to Blake and asked him to meet me at the finish line. He asked how long that would take and I asked how far away it was. Someone told me about 5 miles. I told Blake if I was running, it would be an hour. But at my current pace, it would be 1 and a half, maybe 2. The guy next to me said "it'll be 2" before he took off. I made a face at him from behind my sunglasses.

A bite of banana and 2 steps toward the trail.

...flashback Athens and Rock'n'Roll.

The banana is not staying down.

Repeat.

The banana is not staying down.

Too much salt, too many miles, my stomach doesn't understand why Kiwi gets to ride to the finish line with Blake and it doesn't.

The banana comes up and the convulsions make me feel instantly better. The rush of blood toward my back and organs regenerates me.

Vroom! Off I go! Runnin'!!!!!

I run from shadow to shadow, trying to play tag with the sun. I see Mr. 2-hr not far away. I keep playing Sun-can't-catch-me right past him. Girl with dog. Pass them. Family on bikes. Pass them. Another racer walking. Pass him. I CAN SEE THE AID STATION!

The station is at the foot of the bridge and I get one more salt tab. I ask how far away the finish is and hear "one mile." It doesn't matter if that's right or not. I can run a mile and anything close to it. I'm alone. No Kiwi, no fuel, no music. I have water and a watch. It's been 7 hours and 5 minutes. I take off as another runner exits a porta-potty. ...she never catches me.

I run toward the bridge, staying on the grass. Walk the concrete bridge and get back on the grass. I need the softer surface now. Even the asphalt would hurt too much. Other runners leaving the race are slowing to yell "almost there!" "keep going" & "you can do it." While I take off around the corner, I look back and see the closest runner at the foot of the bridge.

I remember the path here so well.... I'm singing "over the river and through the woods, finish line we go" as I cross the street and head into the woods. Upon exiting, a spotter has a cowbell and there are about 20 people milling around waiting for the last of us to come in. I see the clock... 7:17... beat 7:20, beat 7:20, beat 7:20.... 7:17:43!!!!

I hear my name and try to catch my breath. Dan is there to hand me my medal, the earliest runners have stayed put to see us stragglers finish, and IJustFinishedAnUltraOhMyGoshICan'tBelieveIt is about my line of thought...

Blake and Kiwi take 2 pictures and I stick around to see the others finish.

Show them my pictures!!

Hi Kiwi!

I was tired. I was SOOOOO excited about the big race that I got all worn out. Then Blake took me to the finish line. Then we took pictures and went home.

I know. I already told them that.

Yeah. So show them.

Okay. One is how I wanted to take a picture, the other is what Kiwi insisted was more realistic.