Spartathlon left me speechless. Russ, my husband extraordinaire, super coach Amanda McIntosh
and I arrived the Sunday before the race. This being my first international race, I had no idea what to expect in terms of jet lag, hydration levels, etc. Sure, I’ve travelled to Europe before but when it’s for vacation I’m not exactly thinking about sleep - or water for that matter.
The start of the race was quick. We arrived by bus to the Acropolis where in all its glory this magnificent historical place was lit
up brightly. Everyone was busy taking pictures and getting ready. We took a few moments to get pictures in as well. I could feel myself half asleep but also on a high from what we were about to embark on. There’s always this thought that
crosses my mind before a big race, What did you get yourself into this time and are you sure you want to do this?
Americans! Blake Benke, Me and Mike Morton. Missing from the picture is Andrei Nana and Chad Rickleffs.
Once the race officials put up the race start banner it became even more real that our journey was about to begin. I’d seen the race banner a million times in pictures always in awe of the runners lined up behind it. Now I was one of them. A couple of times I found myself gasping for air. Is this for real? How did I get so lucky?
This is *really* happening. For real.
As long as I could see Russ and Amanda close by I felt safe, warm and fuzzy. As soon as the gun went off though, this wave of
realization came over me. I felt alone. For the next 153-miles I would have no pacers, no music , no comfort zone. For the first 50-miles I wouldn’t even get my crew. Buck up cowgirl – BUCK UP!
We ran down the cobbles from the Acropolis into a city that was just beginning to wake up. Rush hour traffic was stirring on certain streets. Within the first mile or so I was following along nicely until one of the front runners realized
we had already gotten off course. Oh boy.. Quickly the group did a slight u-turn and the next thing I knew we
were hopping over bushes and a wire fence to get back on track. A mile further down the road we played chicken with a train that was coming. Ok-ok…we didn’t play chicken. Actually we just stood there half laughing because what else are
you going to do when you’re four miles into a 153-mile race and there’s a train blocking the road. And finally we were off and running again hitting our stride. Down the road I was fortunate to find a pack of lively Brits. Oh thank heavens…. These guys were fantastically funny. They were joking and having fun along the way telling me about the race and giving me some tidbits
about what to expect. The first climb isn’t really a climb but rather a long incline. It’s a dangerous incline because you don’t really feel that you’re working hard but not slowing the pace and being mindful of it could cost you later. One of the runners along the route was power walking up the incline in almost a doomsayer’s style yelling out to the rest of us, “All runners who pass
me running will not finish the race!!” Hmmm…was he right? Should I walk? Who is he? I kept running, but I did slow it down a bit. I lost the Brits eventually. Like a group of girls, they all peeled off together for a quick wee break leaving me running alone. Gee thanks guys. Hahahaha!
Athens was good to us. Despite taking up their roads they mostly waved and cheered. We weaved through traffic at times getting close to the cars and it was great hearing, “Bravo-BRAVO!!” Here we are causing them to be late for work and they’re cheering us on. Awesome! Gee boss, I’m late because there were 300+ runners in front of my car and I just couldn’t drive any faster.
The course rolls along the coastline for many miles but to say it’s the most breathtaking part of the race is tough because the entire race is breathtaking, for different reasons. As we winded along the roads making our way to the coastline we passed a series of refineries where I’d read in race reports how bad the smell would be. It wasn’t bad. I actually, and purposely, took deep
breaths in throughout the race so that the smells should be part of the memory. In corporate all the senses when traveling!
When I travel I don’t want to be a tourist. I want to experience a new city as if I lived there every day. It was fun running by and seeing people go into work with their uniforms as if nothing was going on around them. The refineries shadowed us from their enormous dimensions. I was interested to know how industrial the city is. From pictures all you ever get to see is clear blue
water and white stucco houses. There is so much more to be explored and taken in!
Along the coastline I felt safe again. Earlier in the week we had driven this section of the course to see the first couple of climbs. Amanda and I ran some stretches together so getting back to that section felt like they were with me giving me energy and love. The road was quiet enough to hear the water crashing on the shore down below us and the wind started picking up so we had a nice coastal breeze. Aid stations are very well done. The volunteers treat you like family. Just as we were on a mission to hit checkpoints cutoffs, they are on a mission to take care of our every need. It was at Checkpoint 13 where I met Norway. He
was wearing a running tank top with big letters reading NORWAY so it was an easy tag. We stopped there together to grab some drink. The day was warming up and so were we. Time for an ice scarf. Norway handed me a bunch of ice. Seriously?
How much nicer can a person get? This level of kindness ended up being the theme for the entire race. We continued on running together where he told me that this was his second attempt. The previous year he didn’t finish and was back to try again. Yet
another theme of the race. How little did I know that a TON of runners have attempted Spartathlon only to not finish. I couldn’t figure it out though. These are some of the world’s toughest ultrarunners. How is it possible? How little did I know…
Of course traveling abroad wouldn't be the same without hunting down an Italian! I met Carmelo along the way and practiced some Italian. He is awesome!
Finally at a certain point during the second marathon I saw them at last – MY CREW!!! YIPPEEE!! In Spartathlon, crews are not allowed to assist their runner until after Checkpoint 22 (mile 50-ish). They were on the way to Checkpoint 22 but stopping to take pictures. Oh happy days!!! I’d been running strong since the start without any issues and was excited to yell the news to the them, NO STOMACH ISSUES, I’M FEELING AWESOME!!! Their response: Keep running!!
Arriving into Checkpoint 22 was a huge high. This particular checkpoint is probably the most critical because runners have 9 hours and 30 minutes to get there. After 9:30, runners get pulled off the course and sent packing on the death bus. What makes it hard is 9:30 for 50-miles under normal circumstances is reasonable but add another 102 miles to the equation along with
a bunch of unknowns and it’s a recipe for disaster. Runners must be very mindful to not waste time but also not burn up the legs.
I arrived to Checkpoint 22 feeling terrific. It was my first time to talk to Russ and Amanda and report how I was feeling and get real calories in. Up to this point I’d only used aid station drinks but nothing really substantial. In preparation for the race and from other race reports I knew ice was a scarce commodity and not knowing what foods would be available we decided to transport a large cooler with provisions on the plane. Russ and Amanda had the cooler loaded with ice and my drink of choice for the race: Orgain Nutritional Shakes
. Downing a shake was positively a wonderful moment. I could feel the nutrition tough at work inside. It’s high in potassium, healthy carbs and protein – something I never dabbled with in other races. Before heading back
out the crew wrapped another fully loaded ice scarf around my neck handed me an ice cold Powerade for road.
The course was lined with olive groves and fruit orchards. Even when it was dark you could smell the fragrance of the fruit. Beautiful.
German Cordisco from Argentina and I ran for quite a bit and I got to practice my Spanish. Very nice guy!
PEACE! Ok, I was being silly. The crew whipped out the video so I couldn't help but ham it up a little. :)
The next 50 miles flew by just like the first 50. No stomach issues, no lows. I cried along the course from pure elation running
through my body. How did I get so lucky!?!? Is this for real?? Running up-up and up climbs and winding down-down-down into the valleys, I met and chatted with fellow runners along the way from all over the world, Italy, Germany, Norway Argentina, Sweden, Brazil. This race is a melting pot and despite our language barriers we all had one thing in common – our love for running. We cheered each other on, waved hello, smiled, and laugh together. This is heaven, right?
On the sidelines was something that I knew existed at this race, but never expected to touch me so deeply. Children. I’d been told about the children that would be out on the course but this was unchartered. As I made my way down the road, groups of children lined up with their little hands stretched out to get slapped. Wanting to absorb the race fully, I got close up and slap
their hands laughing with them and yelling. Heart rate: ZONE 4. They would scream so loud and cheer for us the excitement drove my heartrate off the charts. Coming through the smaller villages was definitively THE BEST PART of the race – the children would wait for us and run beside us through their town huffing and puffing. I mean, these are teenagers all the way down to teeny weeny little ones. Some on their bikes, most of them running. In their best English they would ask, “Where you from?” and I responded, “America.” Well that would just set them off. I could hear them yelling to the others AMERICA-AMERICA!!
Some of the kids would touch my arms and hug me. Simply – PRECIOUS!! You could see the fire burning in their eyes. A desire and future goal of running Spartathlon was igniting inside them. I didn’t want it to end. I wanted them to stay with me. Their energy, their innocence, their bright eyes gave me strength that lasted for miles and miles.
Leaving the last village before the mountain stage it was dark and getting cold. I was almost at the 100 mile mark and shocking the hell out of myself with how well I was running. By that point I was in second place toggling with Antje Krause from Germany. Ugh…it was an awkward moment that I’d never experienced before. I left the aid station without saying a word and
feeling uncomfortable. Should I have said something? Hello at least? Just before I got too far from the aid
station I decided to turn back and yell out to her, COME ON! She did. We ran together struggling to have a conversation because of our language barrier but we managed to exchange our names and countries. She asked if I had qualified to
get in through a 24-hour race and I answered back that Badwater had been my qualifier. At first I wondered if yelling back to your competition to come run together is what you should do in competition or not. As I sit here writing this
I smile with no regrets – We are runners first, competitors second. At the end of the day we’ve all trained as hard as humanly possible and running together here and there doesn’t change the outcome of a race. What kind of day you’re
dealt is really the determining factor. Antje and I ran together for a while but I needed to stop for a bathroom break which meant parting ways. She went on and I never saw her again during the race.
Climbing the switchbacks took a toll on me. They’re not steep but the darkness and shadows toyed with my mind. I was getting sleepy and starting to feel edgy from being so close to the cliffs. Usually I would have a pacer to be my eyes and help me through this. Not this time.
Arriving to the base of the offroad section I met up with Russ and Amanda and dealt them the news that I needed sleep. I was struggling to keep a straight thought in my head and falling asleep running. It was very windy and cold and we went back and forth over it being a bad idea. They were worried my legs would seize up from the cold. Finally by virtue of crawling onto one of the mats and laying down I got 15 minutes of sleep. It’s amazing how rejuvenating minutes of sleep can provide. They walked me to the base of the trail and wish me well. All I wanted to do was run back and hug them but it was time to face my
demons. Up to this part I’d run strong, happy and effortless. Now a mountain stood before me both literally and figuratively. Going up was tricky. Russ, Amanda and I had practiced this part in daylight a few days earlier so I sort of had an idea of what to expect but at night with terrible eyesight, and bad height vertigo I lost all sorts of time on the mountain. Thankfully I had banked
a ton of time beforehand. Yeah!
Off the mountain and coming back into the valley I was glad to be back on road and ditch the trail shoes. I was so sleepy again and starting to hallucinate. At one point running with James from Britain, we spotted lights down the road and commented that the lights had to be the next checkpoint and we could see people there…..it ended up being a graveyard. Ummm…yeah…these people can’t help us. We ran on.
The cold was starting to sink into my bones leaving me shaking uncontrollably. Given the previous year’s record heat temperatures I had heat trained with little concern about cold. This was my [almost] fatal mistake. Somewhere on the course I arrived to a checkpoint and sat down in a chair. I couldn’t think anymore. The aid station volunteers were shining their lights in
my eyes and asking how they could help. All I could do was shiver…
“GET UP – WHAT ARE YOU DOING – WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?!” That’s what I woke up to as I found myself in a random car still at that same checkpoint. My crew had been looking for me for over two hours and were pulling me out one of the aid station
volunteer cars and shoving me down the road. We have no idea how long I was there. I was utterly disoriented, cold and clueless of what was going on. Russ and Amanda said it took an hour to finally unfold myself. Apparently I had a scowl on my face, hands shoved up deep inside my armpits and was shivering down the road for a long time. Once daylight broke things picked up again. I ran with other runners again and kept moving forward with help from the crew. Lesson learned: if 100 degrees feels
comfortable and pleasant, piled on serious winter clothes for anything less than 60 degrees or suffer the consequences!
The next morning....still going!!!
The last long stretch before enter Sparta. Nice BIG shoulders and beautiful vistas!
Coming down the main avenue in Sparta was remarkable. Hundreds of people cheered from restaurants, balconies, and the streets. Each block closer added more children by my side. A car slowly passed by handing me an ice cold bottle of water. The kids were yelling and screaming with excitement. All I could do was cry uncontrollably. I’d lost all sense of composure. Here I was
153-miles later having been loved and taken care of by a race and a country so devoted to the history of running. People from around the world united together for the sole purpose of seeing us finish and realizing a dream that was a long
time in the making.
Truly the best part of the race were these kids. I love them!
Approaching the final steps up to King Leonidas stood Russ and Amanda smiling and waiting for me. I had waited for such a long time to finally grab their hands and go to the finish - together. We walked up to King Leonidas hand-in-hand with so much emotion, exhaustion, adrenaline running through us. There’s an old saying,“Only the spoon that stirs the pot knows how hot the soup really is.” This was OUR finish for so many reasons.
Boss 1 and Boss 2, Russ and Amanda. LOVE YOU GUYS!!
Trying to hold back from crying again. One of my proudest moments in running! And thankful to be flanked by two angels.
Drinking the traditional water from the Evrotas River.
At the finish it is customary to kiss the feet of King Leonidas. I kissed them twice. Once as a nod to tradition,
and a second kiss as a promise to return to this beautiful race and country that stole my heart.
Part II of Spartathlon Race Report coming soon. . . .
Our trip across the pond was thankfully uneventful. Delta did a terrific job stuffing us with food. It feels like I've done nothing but eat for 24 hours. Arriving into Athens was amazing. I loved flying over Italy and seeing the sunrise cast burning orange shadows on the mountains and water. Finding the hotel was a different story and not quite as peaceful. GPS, even when in English, is not universal! But we made it, only to be told we couldn't check in yet. Sigh...the chairs at the rooftop pool make terrific beds. :) Oh, and it's a bit chilly here!
First thing this morning I received the following text..."The task ahead of you is never greater than the strength within you." Unknown
Good timing I'd have to say. :) The current task is packing, without analysis paralysis! I want to bring everything with me, but really all I need is socks, shoes, running clothes, water bottle, hat, and COURAGE. More blogs to follow. I finally figured out how to blog from my phone possibly chronicling this epic journey I'm on. Don't pinch me - if I'm sleeping, I don't want to wake from this dream!!!
Finishing up packing last night I started thinking about how far I've come in running. From my first marathon of 6 hours to packing for Spartathlon - I'm still in awe of what my body is capable of enduring. How far can we go? What is the maximum we can take? And how do we know when it's the maximum?
Badwater 2011 about killed me. Dealt with a bad hip out there, and crawling up the portal the race still sits on my mind. Despite all of that, it was good to me. The day dealt me a finish line. I'll take it.
When I first heard about Sparathlon it was pre-Badwater. Pre-Javelina Jundred, Pre-Graveyard, Pre-ultras. I was in training for my first trail 50k and had just met a fellow named Jon. A random Saturday morning I waited on the boardwalk to see who would show up to run 30-miles of trails in the freezing sleet/rain. Jon showed. He was it. We ran and compared running stories. He had already run 50-miles. I hadn't and was jealous of his 50-miles. I told him about Badwater. My dream race. And how everysinglewakingmoment of my sheer existence was focused on that race. Jon told me about Spartathlon. Sparta-wha? An even longer race with tight cutoffs. Hmmm....
I thought. Nevermind that. I don't have the speed!
The whole concept of hearing Jon explain that race seemed foreign and completely far fetched. I put it in the far back part of mind and forgot about it. It was a race I would never be strong enough to run.
Several ultras later, and a few years after that day meeting Jon, I was blessed enough to toe the line at Badwater. Here's a terrific article from the Washington Post
who followed me, David Plosonka and Michael Wardian throughout the race. I read it last night and all I could do was shake my head in disbelief. How? When? Really? The body is a remarkable machine!
I've come so far as a runner, but yet, have so much farther to go. That I even applied to Spartathlon took HUGE COURAGE on my part. Sending the entry fee left me feeling ill for days. What will happen a week from today/tomorrow? Will my body say ENOUGH! Or will it say, keep going - you're not done yet. I suppose if I knew what the end result was now, there would be no sense in going.
If ultras teach us anything at all, it's the lesson of patience. The beginning can be drastically different from the end of training, of racing, of recovery. For now, I remain patient with a storm brewing inside. I've spent all year long training, building, planning, in a few more days and I get to find out what the Greek Gods have in store for me. SWOOSH!
My friend Frank put this together for me. It's what runners do. We give each other videos or run miles together as gifts. Thank you Frank!!! And how about Lizzy Hawker!!!??? One word: INSPIRING!
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Keys 100 Mile Finisher Belt Buckle.
May18th was the Keys 100
, a race that runs from Key Largo to Key West, 100-miles glorious miles on the asphalt.
It's been on my To-Do list for a while and having gotten a late start in training this year the timing worked out so I went for it.
Race Director Bob Becker, also a Badwater
veteran, does a FABULOUS job putting on this race. Not a detail is missed from start to finish. When I arrived for the pre-race meeting in Key Largo the feeling in the air was reminiscent of Badwater - crew vehicles were scattered all over covered in décor, signage, flags, banners, and pictures. The Keys 100 isn't just a 100-mile individual race it also hosts a 50-mile individual race and relay races bringing in approximately 900 runners for the weekend, not including crews!
Packet pick-up felt like a disrupted ant pile with runners whizzing around, chatting, and taking pictures. Energy was high. I got to chat a bit with my ultrarunner friend Kim Budzik, also a Badwater veteran, and Andrei Nana, a seasoned ultrarunner who has a similar race schedule to mine this year…more on that toward the end of this report. Standing in line I also met Brad Lombardi, who kept telling me that the race was "hot, really hot." Hmmm...really? How hot could it possibly get? And where's
Last minute hugs with Russ
Kim and me at the start.
Race start was an eye opener. Relays teams started ten minutes before the 100-mile individuals resulting in swarms of bright eyed, bushy tailed relay runners dressed in matching team spirited outfits (to include what looked like gold lame shorts)!! Ummm...I'll have what they’re having for breakfast, please.
Minutes before the 100-mile start Mr. Superstar Ultrarunner Mike
arrived ready to run and I quickly started pushing and shoving everybody out of the way to shake his hand. Ok-ok...I didn't push and shove but rather waited my turn to say hello, and wish him luck. Morton currently holds the Keys 100 course record in an incomprehensible 13:42:52!!! Wow. In case you need help with the math, that's 8:13 min/miles for ONE HUNDRED MILES!!!
At 6:10AM off we went for a long day of running. I remember standing at the start thinking that the sun wasn't out yet and sweat was dripping off my back. Well this is odd, why am I sweating at a standstill? Mike Morton busted out of the gate and within seconds he was out of sight. The lead group behind him consisted of several guys running a speedy clip. Roughly 1.5 miles in, a
girl passed me running a wicked quick pace. I wasn't sure if she was 100-miler or a late start relay member and dismissed the thought. It was too early to race.
Wild start! Look at the sky!
The course is primarily on paved paths with occasional stretches on the shoulder of open roads and despite a steady stream of cars, drivers were kind enough to stay in their lane. Having never been to the Keys, the flora and fauna is breathtaking….and there was an occasional snake and lizard along the way to jumpstart my heart. As if it wasn't already pounding out of my chest. At one point I witnessed three red cardinals duking it out. An interesting sight to help distract my mind from the humidity and heat that was taking a toll on me.
Around the 50-mile mark we hit Seven Mile Bridge. I was standing just before the bridge with the crew loading up on ice spray and water bottles when this really nice relay runner passed by and cheered me on. Since I felt like I was about to die, it caught me completely off guard and all I could manage was a weak little thank you. The bridge is the longest stretch on the course where crews must wait on the other side to access their runner. Basically you run on a bridge and below there is nothing but crystal clear blue water. The breeze was a welcomed respite given that earlier we were running between trees and bushes which kept the humidity nice and thick. Thoughts of jumping off the bridge for a refreshing dunk crossed my mind several times. I was passed by relay runners that ran effortlessly with big smiles on their faces and pep in their steps. I'm jealous of their energy. One runner in particular made me dig deep, he was carrying a pole with a very large American flag that was whipping around in the wind. Unfazed by the heat and humidity he held that flag up so proudly I got choked up about it. At lot of the relay runners teamed up with charities to raise money so it wasn't “just” a relay, it was something that hit straight to their core.
Beautiful flag and a lot of heart.
Coming off the bridge was a treat. Since the relay runners were not allowed to exchange batons on the bridge, there were groups of them waiting on the other side. It was like a pep rally the night before homecoming. They were cheering and sparkled in the sunlight. My favorite team was Team EMS. Dressed in bright orange regalia, one of them waved a matching orange flag with TEAM EMS.Yes, me! Take me TEAM EMS!! I'm dying out here! The forecast on Monday said low 80’s, yeah right.
Miles 60-97 are pretty much a blur with few exceptions. At the 75-mile checkpoint one of the aid stations guys cheered me on telling me I was in first. What? You mean that chick that blasted past me was a relay runner? I don't understand. Brain. Fried. Tired. Need Sleep.
Not sure what the topic of discussion is but it looks *very* serious!
At a certain point my husband came on the course and handed me his cell phone. Apparently I was in desperate need of motivation so he called my Dad. It was nice to hear my Dad's voice telling me to press on no matter what happened out there. Every training session I've been through for races is entirely different and what was unique for the Keys training is that my Dad was gracious enough to crew me. He was instrumental in helping me stay hydrated and fueled during long training sessions so that I didn't have to worry about stashing aid along different routes or running circles to stay close to the house or a store. Along the way he would stick his arm out of the truck and give me a thumbs up as I trashed my legs up and down hills when I didn't want to go anymore. Thanks Daddy. I'll try not to kill myself out here! Thumbs up!
Leading up to the race I checked around for a pacer but most of my Go-To possibilities were out there winning races on their own accord. Something in my gut told me it was time to put on a big girl skirt and fly solo. Turns out, it's not bad at all! It gave me an opportunity to talk to some of the other runners along the way. Toward the end of the race, I came upon two 50-milers and asked if I could walk with them for a while to "borrow" the brightness of their light. My headlight was almost dead. They were so nice and lively. It was their first 50 and they seemed fresh despite the distance. We don't know each other but can I hug you? I'm sleepy.
At the final left turn with four miles to go. I came up on a group of guys. They made me laugh a little because even though they were runners, they looked like they had just finished horseback riding for hours (chaffing in unmentionable areas most likely causing the overemphasized waddling). I don't remember if we had a conversation or not but I went on my way.
With three miles to go, the crew parked the van and came on the course. They told me they had some news and then paused. Don't make me wait - just tell me!! My husband confirmed I was leading the women's field. I went on to ask how close the next
girl was. Another long pause. Crap. She's on my back isn't she???!! My husband finally piped up and said, the next girl is about an hour behind you and her name is Dave. Ummm…What? I'm confused.
"You're leading the entire race just keep moving forward and you'll win overall." he said.
What? Huh? How? I'm sleepy.
As it turned out, Mike Morton had serious stomach issues causing him to drop. He was using this race as a training run for Western States and for obvious reasons it's a better move to bail and recover versus pushing through and creating more damage. I got passed by several more relay / 50-milers and with one mile to go, I came up on a guy who was hurting pretty bad but about to finish his first 50-miler ever! We were both so exhausted. I decided there was strength in numbers and convinced him to shuffle to the finish line with me. We weren't entirely sure where the finish line was but his Mom found us and then
one of my crew members led the way. This moment of running with him completely got my heart pumping. I remember so vividly crawling to the finish of my first 50-miler just under the 13-hour cut-off. Here I was lucky enough to run with someone who was about to finish his first 50 much faster and under worse conditions.
When we got within ears reach and he signaled for me to go on. I spotted the finish line and choked up. Words can't describe the moment. So much went into crossing that line, so many mixed emotions. Don't pinch me, I don't want to wake up.
OMG. Is this seriously how it ends?
SUPER Crew - Russ and Jon!
Next day: Post race awards. Keys 100 race has an incredible awards ceremony under a tent right on the beach next to crystal clear waters, soft sand and blue skies. Don't be jealous, just sign up! The awards are GORGEOUS and handmade. They even had a band playing beforehand. All that was missing was a coconut drink with a mini umbrella hanging out of it.
Race Director Bob Becker at awards ceremony. Nicest guy ever!
As it turned out "that girl named Dave" wasn't an hour behind me, he was only 15 minutes away and steadily clawing my back. Dave Krupski
finished second place overall, 1st place male champion in 17:30. He is a 2013 BADWATER Rookie but keep your eyes on this guy come July. He's on fire and will easily end up on the podium at Badwater!
In 3rd overall with 17:54 was Andrei Nana who I have been getting to know through the ultras. Andrei ran a spectacular race. Not only did he PR in ridiculously hot and humid conditions but he was UNCREWED. Wow!!!
4th place overall belongs to Josephine Weeden in 18:17. This is a very impressive time because this was her FIRST 100-MILER!! Prior to this she had never run more than a 50-miler. Goodness!
Later that night the crew and I splurged, and splurged some more.
A lil vino and oysters, crab legs and ceviche - YUM!
Celebratory slice of goodness!
At Better Than Sex Dessert Restaurant. Check out the lit up menu!
One of the things about ultrarunning is how selfish of a sport it can be. The runner gets all the glory but the truth is, so many people go into helping that one person succeed. This win belongs to a list of people:
HUGE thanks go out to my crew - husband Russ and Jon. You guys worked so hard all day. I can't thank you enough!! (Jon, I'll unveil your identity soon enough.) ;) Coach Amanda
– you're always right. :) And my Dad - thanks Daddy, thumbs up!!!
Thank you for all of your support Rogue Running
of Austin and Cedar Park, Texas!!! You guys ROCK and have redefined running!! As always, my absolute go-to product - DryMax Sports
!!! Best socks on the planet and a dedicated wearer since
Next Stop: SPARTATHLON