My Journey to Holiday Lake 50K++ 2007

By:  Marie Potter

The short version of how I ended up running my first ultramarathon is due to persuasion by Bethany Patterson (need I say more?).  But the long version began when I started running with Mark Guzzi, alternating hills and speed work, while listening to his crazy running adventures.  One by one our running group started to succumb to Bethany and Mark’s assurance that ultra’s are where the fun is at.  After running the Swinging Bridge 35K, which was the most challenging race I had ever run, I vowed I would never run a 50K.  But after a week, the 35 didn’t seem so bad; I needed to run a 50, I just wasn’t satisfied.  (This race was also a good distraction from a recent break up, proving once again that running is “good for the soul.”)

Leading up to race week I was extremely nervous.  This would be the longest distance I had ever run.  I had no idea how to prepare for a race of this magnitude.  Besides, all of my friends and family thought I was crazy for attempting such a feat.  Then I received Horton’s email with a runner’s recap of last year’s race.  Not helpful in alleviating my apprehension.  I could not imagine running in those conditions.  I was constantly checking the weather to see how cold it was going to be and was relieved that no precipitation was forecasted.  Next I turned my attention to my wardrobe.  What do you where when it is 12° at the start with a high of 40° by the time you finish?  (Luckily I did order a new pair of mittens, which worked fabulously.  I just wish they would make waterproof shoes because those stream crossings were chilly!!  My feet felt like bricks as the water began to freeze in the cold air.)

I arrived at Holiday Lake on Friday with one of my running partners.  Walking in the cold darkness up to the dinning hall, we both imagined how cold it would be in the morning as we were taking off.  Fortunately the dinning hall was warm and bubbling with energy.  I was ecstatic to receive my t-shirt, but still concerned that I might not finish.  These thoughts disappeared as the man himself, Dr. Horton, greeted me and signed me up for the first timers drawing.  It was great to meet up with my running buddies and prepare for the next morning.  We discussed what we each were going to wear, what we were going to eat, what time we would arrive in the morning, and even started planning for post race celebrations.  It was inspiring to sit in a room full of runners who were about to embark on a crazy journey through the woods.

That night I laid out my clothes for the morning, still unsure whether I would wear a jacket or a vest.  (At the time this decision seemed monumental.)  Surprisingly I was able to fall asleep despite my anxiety and excitement.  4:45 came mighty early on Saturday.  As we walked out of the hotel towards the car, it was not as cold as I had expected.  Don’t get me wrong it was still COLD, but I was expecting the chill to slap me in the face, so it was a pleasant surprise when this did not happen.

After waiting what seemed like an eternity in the dinning hall, it was finally race time!!!!  I had wisely chosen to wear my vest, although this decision was still questionable as we stood around waiting to take off.  It was such a rush to take off up the first hill with flashlight in hand, but frustrating when we came to halt as we all funneled onto the single track trail.  I started off feeling good, but my shoe was rubbing weird and my cheap flashlight was useless.  These thoughts dissolved as the sun came up and I took in the beautiful scenery:  dim sunlight, frozen lake, twisting trail, towering trees, and frost forming on my eyelashes.  At first I didn’t realize what was happening, I thought I had something in my eye, but then a fellow runner remarked on my frost covered face.  I had never run in temperatures cold enough to make this happen on my face.

So far the run was going well, but panic set in as I realized my water bottles had frozen shut.  Now my fuel belt just seemed like added weight, which is something I did not need for a 34 mile run.  I calmed down once I realized how nicely the aid stations were spaced apart and well stocked.  I had never seen such an array of food choices.  It was a challenge to decide what to eat with so many choices, but I went with what I was craving.  Sometimes it was sweets so I went with the PB&J’s, other times it was salt so I downed some Pringles. 

Next came the first water crossing.  I was relieved to see that there was a bridge around it.  It was nice to run a little longer without freezing cold feet.  However this was short lived because the next crossing really woke you up.  I was immersed to mid shin level in freezing cold water, but the worst was emerging from the water and feeling your feet freeze as the water and air mixed.  Although the water was harsh on the way out, it was refreshing on the way back.  The cold water rejuvenated my tired and sore feet, at least temporarily.

Coming towards the half way point, I was energized by the runners who were coming back towards me.  The front-runners were intense, but still managed to squeak out a “good job” for encouragement.  It was fun to cheer on other runners and get support in return, especially when I would pass my running buddies.  I finally reached the halfway point in 2:38.  This seemed okay to me, but I couldn’t believe that I still had that same amount if not more of running still to do!! 

After refueling and taking a pit stop, I continued on.  Around mile 25, I began to realize that coming back was all up hill!!!  At this point I also recognized that I was about to run longer than I ever had before.  This was a scary and exhilarating notion.  My legs were getting tired, my knees hurt, and an old foot injury was creeping back.  But these pains would come and go.  There were plenty of times I wanted to stop running, but the encouragement from other runners, spectators, and volunteers at the aid stations kept me going.  I enjoyed my short conversations along the way.  They helped me appreciate that I was not alone in this endeavor. 

One of the more memorable times came at the last aid station, where an injured running buddy was waiting on crutches to cheer me on.  He told me I looked great, even though this was a bold faced lie, and reminded me that I only had 4 miles left to go!!  The last 4 miles were exceptional.  I was pushing myself as hard as possible while trying not to trip over the uneven terrain.  As I ran along the water again I knew I was getting close.  I could even hear cheering as other runners finished.  I was overcome with emotion as I realized I was actually going to finish my first ultra!!!  Although I was getting close, the trail seemed to grow longer.  Finally I made it to the road.  It was all down hill from here.  It was such a rush to cross that finish line and be embraced by two of my running partners.  I started to cry, not because I was sad, but from exhaustion, exhilaration, and disbelief that I had actually completed something I never dreamed of doing.  I had pushed myself past know limits into the unknown, a scary place to be, but not so bad when you have others there who have been in that same place.

            After the race I was sore, tired, hungry, and limping.  I couldn’t wait to share my triumph with my family and friends.  I proudly wore my t-shirt out to dinner that night.  Although most people had no clue what I had endured earlier that day (besides the obvious limp in my gait), I was proud to show that I had exceeded my own expectations.  For this I feel stronger as an individual and more confident in my abilities.  Thank you to everyone who pushed me along the way.