On Saturday, October 3 I ran the North Face Endurance Challenge 50K in Wisconsin. I was actually registered for the Milwaukee Lakefront Marathon that same weekend, but in July I won a free entry to the NFEC, so I decided to forfeit the marathon in favor of the 50K. I've wanted to tackle this distance for years, and was excited to try.
My training leading up to race day was...different. I've been doing a run streak since June 1, so a traditional taper was not in the books for me. On top of that, due to poor scheduling on my part I had a race every Saturday for the previous 4 Saturdays, including a 6 hour track race, a 4-miler that I PRd, my first Tough Mudder, and a half marathon that I PRd by 8 minutes (I still need to write up that race report). Prior to September, my training was spot-on for a marathon, with a few days of Crossfit mixed in every week. I felt ready.
Race day temperatures started in the 40s and really breezy, with a high of 55. Great race temps for me, as I get super warm when I run. I ran in my Ink N Burn Calavera capris and a short sleeved shirt, with arm sleeves that I discarded early on, and it was perfect for the weather.
People loved my Calavera outfit. Nearly everyone I encountered on the trail had a comment about it, often accompanied by a skeleton pun of some kind. And the short sleeves and capris were perfect for the weather. In fact, my only weather-related complaint was that the wind was a pain, particularly in the open field sections of the race. In all, that's not a bad complaint for an October day in Wisconsin. I opted to wear my old Hoka Stinson Trails, as I've learned that I don't love my Hoka Speedgoats for bombing down hills. The toe box is too narrow and while I don't feel it on flat terrain, I really feel it on the downhills. Sad face.
The First 14 Miles
Things started out great. I felt strong and was keeping up a sub-11 pace, even through the undulating and relentless hills. I was powering up the hills well, often passing runners who were running the uphills (thank you, long legs and Crossfit!) I was easily overtaking people on the downhills (why don't more people gallop down the hills? If the terrain is stable, a gallop is so much faster). The course was incredibly well-marked and I never once had to question if I was going the right way. There was a bit of leaf cover on the ground which made some of the root- and rock-covered terrain a bit dicey, but for the most part it wasn't a terribly technical trail. I did take a fall around mile 7 when I tripped over a hidden root. I bruised my knee and I felt it through all my remaining miles, but that didn't slow me down too much. I was sure to be smart in the aid stations, not lingering and not taking in more nutrition than I needed. I passed by the first aid station, and by the second aid station I was grabbing a gel and a Coke, but I kept moving. The aid stations were great, by the way. Volunteers were all over making sure you had what you needed. I saw sweet snacks, salty snacks, gels. There was some hot broth later on. So far, I was having a great run. I talked to lots of other runners on the way and just enjoying the whole experience.
Mile 14
Things took a turn at Mile 14. I was running happily through one of the open field sections of the trail when a giant bug flew in my face and wedged itself under my glasses. I soon realized it was a bee (or maybe a wasp?) and I flung my glasses off of my face in an effort to get it the hell off of me, but it was too late - I got stung, right by the eye. It hurt, bad. A course marshal happened to be right there and he saw it happen, but he said the next aid station was still two miles away. With my stung eye closed, I walked to the aid station, cursing my life. The F-bomb was dropped copiously. Eff running. Eff bees. Eff this trail. Eff you, rocks, you suck. Eff these covert roots. Eff it all.
By the time I hit the aid station, my hands were swelling and my breath was ragged, and because I'm allergic to, like, everything, I worried that I might be having a reaction to the sting. The medics had no bee sting kit, but they were able to give me an ice pack. On a 40-degree, rainy day. Yeah. I started feeling worse and worse, and I decided I had to drop. The area by my eye was starting to swell and I was feeling awful. I advised the aid station captain who called in my DNF. I felt like such a damn failure as I watched all of the people who I had passed in the previous miles hit the aid station and head on their way.
I tried twice to text my husband that I was done, but my phone kept shutting off before I could send the text, and I wondered whether it was a sign. I waited at the aid station, contemplating my failure, for a total of about 45 agonizing minutes while I waited for the failwagon to come get me. Since I stopped running, I was getting really cold. And then I started to think about my family and all of my friends who were so supportive of my running this race. I got really upset at myself for letting a bug get in the way of the goal I had been working so hard for. It was time to woman-up. I asked if I could rescind my DNF, and a few radio calls later I got the OK to proceed. I continued on, albeit much more slowly as my face was hurting bad.
The next 17 miles were hard. I had been keeping my aid station time down to three minutes or less, so 45+ minutes wasted in the aid station was a real mental blow, and I could feel the stinger by my eye with every step. My pace slowed immensely (although by now my phone and my Garmin had both died so I couldn't even guess my pace) but I kept on with a mix of running and walking. And cursing. Yet somehow in all of the race photos, I was still smiling. (Perhaps I have a mental illness of some kind).
I finished with a time of 7:15. Yeah, that's slow. But my #1 goal was to finish, and I even before the sting my only real hope was to keep my time under 7:30. I didn't realize that I had the potential to do so much better - that 45 minutes at the aid station really took a chunk out of my time, seeing so many people pass me during that period was a real mental blow, and 17 miles with a stinger in my face didn't help matters either - but that just means I have room to improve. I'm down for that.
I called my husband on my way home and he seemed surprised that I was coming back so early. When I arrived at my house I found that he had bought me an ice cream cake that said "Congratulations Jenn" and even had some day of the dead themed gifts for me (socks that match my Calavera running gear! I love socks!). It was then that all of the emotions of the day came pouring out of my face and I cried like a baby.
In all, it was a memorable, well-organized, well-run race. About ten miles from the finish I decided I'm never running again ever, but much like childbirth I seem to have forgotten all the pain and misery as I'm trying to decide on my next, bee-free 50K so I can take a stab at getting a decent finish time.
