While Holiday Lake 2007 was not my first ultra, it was my first HORTON ultra. (Long race report justified).

The lightbulb turns on

Hatched several months ago, while sitting on my couch, snuggly and warm, wrapped in my favorite comfy blanket---the idea seemed simple enough---. Intriguing, even.  See, I live in San Francisco, my boyfriend (Shir) lives in Princeton, NJ and my brother (Scott) lives in Durham, NC. We all run ultras but had never all run the same race. I’ll use any excuse to get back east to see them---combine that with running and I’m your girl!

The reality sets in

In the excitement of road-tripping with Shir, and in anticipation of seeing my brother and his family AND running, what I failed to even consider was that this race would be run in Virginia. In February. Then I had to go and read the race reports from last year. Now, I’m always intrigued by considering what makes each ultra different, challenging for me? What is the ‘twist’? I was honestly not too concerned with the well-known ‘Horton mile’ and the ++ tacked on to the 50k, but being a cold wimp from California (I rarely have to wear so much as long pants when running). Below 40F is cold for me so I was slightly anxious about the stream crossings, the cold temps, the gear. Fine, I was nervous, panicky, distressed, unprepared, you name it. (snow? ice? sleet? corneal damage?) We're talking uncharted territory for me here. I arrived in NJ for a four day trip with the largest suitcase I own, zipper expanded and crammed full—95% of it race related.

The night before

After a 7 hour drive, Shir and I met up with my brother et al at the pre-race dinner for a great reunion. I enjoy the comraderie at these things. Strangers, for the most part…but all with the same passion for running. I never feel more at home than I do when I’m in a room full of people for whom I don’t have to answer any running question beginning with “Why…”. Dave Horton introduced himself to me and made me feel as welcome as any elite, any old-timer, any friend in the room. We all ate and enjoyed the briefing and casual atmosphere before leaving for our hotel about 20 minutes away—it was suitable and very easy. As we were spending a couple of nights there and had 4 adults and a baby, felt off-site accommodations to be the most practical choice.

Pre-race morning

Layers. Lots of them. Shorts, pants. Underarmour ‘compression’ long-sleeve, second loose long sleeve, Patagonia Specter (love it!). Smartwool first timer so I doubled up. Liner gloves under, gloves with fold-over mitten combo over. Heat warming pads stashed in my mittens, pockets and anywhere else I could think of. I felt like the Michelin Man—only with flair---including a turquoise ‘ear warmer’ headband and purple fleece neck gaitor. Did I mention the Bodyglide covering nearly every square inch of skin?

I also put one of those heat warmer thingys in the pocket of my handheld…kept the Gus liquid and the water bottle from freezing! Threw a few extra in my drop bag so my spare water bottles, Cubes, Ensure, etc… wouldn’t freeze. Spent as much time in the heated car as possible before booking to the starting line. Took comfort that everyone else looked as cold as I felt.

And…GO!

Shir is a much more experienced and better runner so he sped off while my brother and I started off together, sharing his headlamp to light the way. Scott is also a faster runner so I really didn’t expect him to stick with me but he made it clear right then that his ‘twist’ for this race was to share every moment with me. I secretly smiled and felt really blessed. Not many people get to have that kind of gift in their lifetime.

Now, I am not a fast runner. What I am is a smart runner. And one heck of a power walker. My plan is always to start slow, find a groove, power walk the hills, walk through the aid stations and FUEL. I have very little reserves and need to EAT when I run. Will have to say though that only in retrospect did a PBJ and potatoes at 7:30am seem strange.

Scott and I ran and talked with the ever-present thought of the half-way cut-off in the back of our minds, propelling us in constant forward motion. We bypassed the first stream crossing but at the second, spied a photographer poised for a stream-crossing photo op. We glanced at each other and in silent agreement knew…here goes! And ploughed right through my first ever ice-chunky stream crossing. Four steps later we looked at each other, exclaimed “Holy mother of …” and just burst out laughing. He even came up with a pseudo-boot-camp-call “Holiday Lake is really cold, Countdown your remaining toes…Sound off! 1, 2, 3, 4…”. It really wasn’t bad at all. Smartwool is my feet’s new best friend. The wet bottom 8 inches of my pants, however, immediately froze and it looked and felt like I was wearing ice-block bell bottoms. So I ditched them at the half-way point.

I also have to admit to being enchanted but confused by the moaning sounds coming from the lake. Eerie and haunting. I postulated ‘loons’ (did I mention I’m from California?) but Scott tossed a rock onto the ice and suddenly the answer was so obvious-- the shifting and cracking of the ice! Wow.

We hit the turnaround in 3:10, heading out at 3:20 after bathroom breaks and kisses for the baby.

Bringing it home

Every step now is more painful, yet bringing you that much closer to home. And sadly, now your mind and body now knows exactly what lays ahead in order to reach that goal. I can usually start cranking it out at this point with a single-minded focus to GET IT DONE. As we headed out from the turnaround, we started counting ‘kills’—runners we would pass. This sounds cruel and competitive but it’s actually just one of those tricks to keep your mind on top of what your body is telling you. Like saying…just to the next tree, the next orange ribbon, the next aid station. If you can see someone ahead of you, it’s a goal. Nothing more. And an impetus to keep moving when what I want to do is stop. Darned if it doesn’t work. Rather than calling out 18, 19…we would find creative ways to keep track. What date is my birthday? How old is Gracie? We had 53 ‘kills’ on that second loop, being passed once, only then pushing harder on to pass again. LOVED those hills, and hearing Scott comment on how I can maintain such a pace powerwalking up them. It felt like we ran faster but our second loop time was the same as the first…3:10

At that first aid station after the turn-around, I discovered that warm chicken soup is the new crack. Thank you nameless volunteer, for handing me that little bit of heaven.

It was an absolutely amazing experience to run this with my brother. I pushed him, he pushed me, I was awed by him and he by me, and we smiled, even giggled at times the entire way. We bonded in this shared experience in a way that we never have before.

We finished the race holding hands, with huge grins, crossing the finish line together in 6:29:25 to hugs and kisses from Shir (he finished waaaay before us) and family lovin’ for Scott. Although in what is likely the longest handshake on record, he is credited with finishing faster than me. Hey, he's my younger brother and I'm so proud of him that I'm totally fine with him having those 50 seconds :). And PRs!!!--it’s the fastest ultra pace for both us! Maybe because with less elevation, hills, and technical trails, there is definitely more time spent actually running.

The aftermath 

During one of the best showers EVER after that run, I gave thanks to Shir for conceiving this idea and believing I could make the cut-offs, and to Scott for running with me. I am honored and humbled to be able to share such an experience with the two best men in my life.

And the credit goes to…

All of the runners, volunteers, supporters, photographers, and especially Dr. Horton for making this a day I will always treasure. It was a wonderful experience. Forget the cold, the conditions, the distance…if you love running, all of that fades in significance once you cross the starting line.

Sincerely,

Leanne McCulloch