Well, I did it! I finished the Sinister 7 50k ultra!
Now gather round readers, time to hear the tale…
Start Line
I woke up at 5:30am and had a bowl of dry cereal and a cup of motel coffee. Yum. While I ate my breakfast I started going through my mental checklist. Running bib, check. Fully stocked running vest, check. All of my mid-way point supplies, check. Acceptance of a 30°C+ day, check.
I arrived on site at about 7:10am, leaving plenty of time before the official 7:30am start time… or so I thought. After locating the porta potties, I made my way to the back of the very very long line and waited. Periodically the race director would speak through a mega phone, “ten minutes until start!”, “five minutes until start!”, “two minutes until start!”. Luckily, Kolten, my mom and my dad were there to take my mind off this countdown.
After finally getting my turn, I ran out of the stall and into the crowd waiting at the start line. I had about 10 seconds before the gun sounded and we were off. Waving as I passed my people, it finally struck me. This is it.
Easy Peasy
The first 5 kilometers or so of the race was mostly flat. This allowed me to get into a rhythm and calm my nerves a bit. I kept my heart rate at a reasonable level and took the time to enjoy the scenery. At the start line my dad gave me some last-minute sage advice; try to take a look around and remember what some of the people look like. Recognizing a few people will give me reassurance that I am on the right path later in the race.
I took note of a bunch of the people around me. Most memorable being an older woman singing her heart out to “Livin’ on a Prayer” and a trio of women in matching black skorts and pink visors.
The first few kilometers went briefly through a residential area where people were out in the streets to cheer us on. One house even had a sprinkler set up, which I skirted around as it was about 8:00am and still fairly cool. Later in the afternoon, I would have killed for just a few drops from that sprinkler…
Running out of the residential area, the path led into the trees and I came to the first check point.
Into the Woods
The check points have water, electrolytes, snacks and some amazing volunteers. My collapsable silicon cup was a last-minute purchase but ended up being super helpful at these stations. At the first check point I didn’t need much refilled so just grabbed a cup of water for the road.
Heading out from the check point, the path wound through the forest and crossed a couple of small creeks. The race organizers had put in temporary foot bridges at certain points so that we didn’t have hundreds of people trampling through the creek bed.
I was so busy enjoying this lovely little path through the trees that I nearly missed the race markers pointing me to a not so well beaten path. Luckily, I saw the runner ahead of me disappear into the trees and was able to follow. The markers are reflective, but man am I happy that I didn’t have to do this in the dark!
Watch Your Step!
The next section was quite challenging but beautiful. Consisting of mostly single track, the trail wound its way through part of Frank Slide. There were lime stone rocks all around and a person could very easily twist their ankle if they landed wrong. In an effort to keep all limbs fully operational, I remained hyper focused on the trail ahead. At least until I heard someone behind me yell, “don’t look down!”.
Obviously, I immediately tore my eyes away from the ground, looked over and came to the sudden realization that the trail was running adjacent to a very steep drop off. Turns out I was right to prioritize not tripping over a rock during this stretch.
Needless to say, I did not pull over to snap a picture.
A Helping Hand
While heading up the next long, steady hill I overheard a conversation a ways behind me. I glanced back and saw a girl about my age talking to another runner. The girl seemed to be having a tough time. As I turned the corner, the conversation faded and I went back into my own little world.
As it so happened, I met back up with this girl many times throughout the race. Maybe I could make it up a hill faster, but she might spend less time at a check point. One way or another we always seemed to be reunited.
As my Dad suggested, it was helpful to take note of the people around me. Not only to know you are on the right track, but just to see that others are in it with you!
The next time I ran into that same girl, we were working our way to the top of “Heart Break Hill”. The name could not be more accurate. Steep and completely exposed. No shady trees here!
She was stopped over on the side of the trail looking a bit worse for wear. I thought of the various emergency pills that were stowed away in my pack. Stopping, I asked if she wanted to try a ginger tablet. Seeming very grateful she accepted and I told her where to find them in my bag. She dug out the Ziploc and I carefully selected the correct color pill from the bunch.
It was a very heartwarming interaction, putting aside the whole dispensing of unmarked pills to a stranger bit…
It’s All Downhill from Here
After finally reaching the top of that dreaded hill, I was stoked. I mean, what goes up must come down right??
Unfortunately, it was not that easy. The extremely hot weather and lack of rain over the previous week hardened the ground and left a light layer of dust. Essentially, this long downhill stretch that should have been relatively easy and carefree turned into a slippery mess.
My shoes (as I have previously discussed) are designed specifically for trail running. Knowing this, I was not anticipating too much difficulty with traction on the downhill parts of the race. Who knew that a little sprinkling of dust could be so sketchy?
To avoid falling I took to grabbing onto stray branches along the edge of the trail in an effort to slow myself down. I didn’t actually fall (well, here anyway…), but I came very close on multiple occasions.
After finally getting to the bottom of the steep decline I felt absolutely relieved. The path made its way back into the trees and I basked in the shade.
Half Time
After making it up and down Heart Break Hill I was flying high. I came into the transition area (TA) after 20 kilometers at about 11:15am with a big smile.
The TA is a bustling location with many support crews camped out as runners come and go. This spot was also the start and finish of the 4k kids race (which my nephews participated in!) as well as the 50k finish line.
I met up with my crew which included Kolten, my parents and two of my siblings with their families. Seeing everyone’s faces brought me up to the next level of excitement. I was given cold water to drink, a wet towel was draped over my head, my snacks were refilled, a potential blister on my heel patched and I got to chow down on some chips. All while surrounded by my amazing family.
I am SO thankful to my crew. Going into the second part of the race with anything less than an abundance of positivity would have been incredible difficult to say the least.
Right before heading out, Kolten offered me a wet towel for the road. I shudder to think how things would have gone if I had said no to that towel…
On the Road Again
I started the second leg strong, feeling very energized. However, excitement and positivity can only keep a person smiling for so long when that temperature is climbing past 30°C and there is hardly a cloud to be found.
Every so often a small patch of shade would cross the path up ahead. I would use this as my motivation and power up the trail, imagining the delightful oasis of coolness that would be waiting for me. However, as soon as I stopped moving in the shaded area, I would be swarmed by a hungry hoard of flies and mosquitoes.
There was no choice but to keep moving at all times. I suppose in hindsight this could be interpreted as a blessing in disguise. At the time is felt like a personal attack.
I remember the point when the heat almost got the better of me. I was trudging up what was essentially just a gravel road. Absolutely no view to distract me, just gravel stretching forever into the distance. The sun was beating down and the wet towel that Kolten had given me was bone dry. Thinking of the still increasing temperature and many steep hills I had yet to climb, my enthusiasm levels also evaporated.
I looked down at my watch only to realize that I was a mere 5 kilometers past the TA. Barely halfway done the full distance. How was I supposed to do this?
Oasis in the Heat
Just when I reached what was nearly rock bottom, I saw a bunch of runners veering off the road ahead of me. As I got closer, I noticed the creek. The amazing, wonderful, miraculous creek to end all creeks!
I splashed myself head to toe repeatedly, soaked the towel and dunked my hat. The instant relief I felt was enough to get my head back in the game. If not for the creek, I don’t know how I would have crawled out of that pit of despair.
I soaked that precious towel in every creek I came past. Sometimes it was just a small trickle down the side of the trail, but it made all the difference.
The Long Game
Although my spirits were lifted, I was still in the midst of about a two-hour uphill climb. Not steep the entire time, but just a steady incline that did not let up. I, and the majority of other runners around me, spent this period walking. Although I knew that it was the smart decision to conserve my energy, not being able to open it up for that long was mentally tough.
While we were trekking up, there were quads driving down the mountain. Oh, how I wanted to hitch a ride.
I tried to pass the time listening to music, but I hated having to carefully remove my headphones and place them back in the case before I could feel the relief of that soaking creek towel. The towel was keeping me going so I quickly gave up on the tunes.
Chugging along, I had plenty of time to track my progress on my Garmin. Every hour or so I would eat a snack. While I had done an excellent job following my schedule in the morning, those foods were becoming a bit less appetizing in all the heat.
My second biggest hot weather logistical takeaway (after the towel) – do not pack pretzels.
Salt is all well and good for electrolytes and what not, but these things tasted about as appetizing as a handful of crusty twigs from the forest floor…
Hitting Refresh
By the time I reached the second last check point, about 14 kilometers from the finish line, I felt absolutely zonked. However, I knew that I was closing in on the finish. Conditions had improved significantly; the clouds had come out and the hottest hours were behind me.
At the check point I refilled my electrolytes and ate one of the race provided snacks – a pickle. It was the best thing I ate all day! Before departing for the next section, a couple of the amazing volunteers soaked me with a spray gun.
This was a great kick off to the best section of the afternoon. There were not too many hills, up or down, and it was a great opportunity to make up a bit of ground and get some of those positive vibes back.
Time flew and I was at the very last check point before I knew it. Located next to a small creek, it was at the foot of a very aggressive incline. When I arrived, the volunteers gave me a piece of water melon (also delicious) and I took some time to collect myself. Only 7 kilometers to go.
The Home Stretch
There were a bunch of people mingling at the check point, maybe 10 runners as well as a few volunteers. Everyone was chatting about the race and I heard someone mentioned this one last big hill. Just make it up this hill and it would be all easy downhill to the finish line.
Well, that is the last time I listen to idle gossip.
The large hill that they were referring to was not in fact the incline that began straight out of the check point. Not even close.
Several false summits, two Advils and a dead Garmin later I finally reach the top of something. I frankly do not remember much about what I was looking at because I was so miserable. This was rock bottom. In that moment, all I remember is thinking how grateful I was to finally be going downhill again.
Well, if we all remember how this downhill business panned out for me in the first half?
Yet again, I found myself slip sliding down the hill. Only now, seven hours and 30 kilometers later, my legs were not as spry as they once were. It is at this point that I fell and pulled a leg muscle. Luckily the hill was quite steep so I just sort of fell backward into a sitting position.
It took everything in me to stand back up and keep working my way down that hill. With my watch dead, I had no sense of time or distance traveled. This part of the trail was very treed in and hilly so I couldn’t even set my sights on something in the distance and move toward it.
I eventually came across some others who were in the same boat as me. One had tweaked his knee and was slow moving. We were all questioning our decision to spend our hard earned cash on this “experience”.
Having this time to commiserate and vent some of the frustrations was very needed. It is good to stay positive but sometimes you just need to call it like it is. At that time, it sucked.
After chatting for a couple minutes, I confirmed how much further to the finish. One of the people with a functioning watch told me 3 kilometers.
Finish Line
That “gossip” I heard earlier was riddled with false news, but the part about ending with an easy downhill to the finish was indeed true. Running those last few kilometers was tough after already traveling such a long distance. However, I have never felt stronger.
When I came down that very last hill and hit the flat grass that would lead me to the finish line, I looked up and saw my wonderful family in their orange Head for the Hills shirts. As I broke into a “sprint” I could hear them cheering me on and felt the emotion building up as I got closer and closer.
The feeling when I crossed the finish line is unforgettable.
I was relieved to be done, exhausted from the craziness, exhilarated by the finish, so freaking proud of the accomplishment and incredibly grateful to have such an amazing group of supporters.
The race organizer handed me my medal and “Finisher” beer at 7:06pm and I shared in the glory with my amazing crew. My 2024 Sinister 50k ultra was truly a once in a lifetime experience.
