I first contacted Desert RATS race director Reid Delman in August of 2016. Less than a year earlier, on my 50th birthday, I had run my first marathon. I didn’t exactly enjoy it other than the part where you “achieve” something -- something which is, let's be honest, kind of pointless. (I had raised $5200 for the Washington Humane Society so I did feel good about that.) My parents came down for my Big Birthday Marathon. I knew where they and Bill would be waiting along the course so I was able to mug for the camera.
Birthday marathon, pretending to be having a much better time than I actually was.
Less than halfway through I was thinking THIS SUCKS as well as "when's the next one?" I was interested in the challenge of actually *enjoying* the process. As a professional musician I have given a great deal of thought to how one’s emotional state affects the experience of practicing, auditioning, and performing. I’d made huge progress in managing nerves and “imposter syndrome” and felt there could be a lot of parallels with marathon training.
I also had experienced amazing learning curves in other sports. Fifteen years ago -- already in my mid 30s -- I had been afraid to ride a bike uphill, downhill, or in traffic. Biking made my knees and butt hurt and I didn’t know how to use the gears. Two years later I did a solo bike tour in Chile and Argentina, at one point riding my 80 pound loaded bike more than 100 miles in a single day. I was never a great skier but it was definitely more fun the better I got. I assumed the same was possible with running. Anyway urban marathons were never the end goal. What really had piqued my interest was the idea of trail running. Several years earlier, feeling particularly intrepid on a solo 22 mile day hike in the Grand Tetons, I had been passed by a series of trail runners doing a 35 mile loop. This sounded amazing! If I could cover even more distance per day in this incredible landscape by moving a little faster, I was in.
Marathon #2, much less miserable but didn't know there was a camera on me. Obviously I did not purchase the official photos.
After my second marathon (indeed more fun and 20 minutes faster) my brother, who had qualified for Boston more than once, asked what my time was. He said “since you’re so slow you should consider ultras.” He denies this but I’m 100 percent confident in the recollection. It's possible he was just being an asshole but it made sense, since I was no more shattered at the end of the marathons than at the end of long cycling days. I contacted ultramarathon legend Lisa Smith-Batchen for some on-line coaching. She was very encouraging that I could do longer runs. I wondered if this was something she saw in me or a blindly supportive coaching style. In retrospect I believe it was experience-based knowledge that none of this is out of reach for anyone who’s willing to put in the training.
Last August Lisa posted on FB that she was doing the Grand to Grand stage race in Utah/Arizona. I immediately started looking for a stage race in the west that would conform to my symphony schedule. This is never easy since we have concerts most Friday and Saturday nights. I found the Desert RATS 150, a comfortable 10 months away, and looked over the “qualifying standards.”
Category 1- Automatic qualifiers:
Having participated in previous Desert RATS stage race.
Have an official trail ultra finish, verified by a results link.
Have an official stage race finish, verified by a results link.
Category 2- Qualifier pending approval:
Have fastpacking/backpacking experience.
Having an official trail marathon finish, verified by a results link.
Have extensive experience working in extreme heat.
Submit a proposal describing extensive experience in extreme conditions that demonstrates specific and unique qualifying criteria, as determined in the sole discretion of the race director and application committee.
Having none of the automatic qualifiers, I submitted this “proposal” --
"I haven't done any "fast packing" other than the fact that I am generally a fast hiker (by normal person standards anyway!) and have done multiple backpack trips - two in Iceland, the trans-Zion trek, etc. I seem to cope fairly well in heat. I have also been bikepacking for over 12 years (at least two 2-3 week trips a year other than the times that I substituted a backpack trip) so I am experienced in challenging multi-day slogs, bad weather, sleeping on the ground etc."
-- and it was enough for Reid to approve me, with the understanding that I would do a lot of running in the coming months as well as "heat training" ... whatever that meant. He also agreed that Bill could come along as part of the group and do the trip on his bike.
In the trail races I didn't have to fake. I just smiled the whole time... so much more fun to run through the woods!
I registered for two nearby trail 50Ks and a 50 miler as well as one more road marathon, and filled in the other weeks vaguely following training schedules I found on line. I wasn't at all sure I'd get through the training so I put off registering for RATS until March (after I completed a 50k and a marathon on successive weekends) even though it meant missing out on the early-bird price. Couple hundred extra bucks seemed worth it rather than forfeit on the whole fee if I crapped out -- or injured myself -- with the training.
All four of the races were on concert days -- run 26, 32, or 50 miles, then shower, change and go on stage at the Kennedy Center. Not ideal but no other options. I needed those official events in my date books or I'd never have done the miles.
This is me finishing the Bull Run Run 50 Miler with just 17 minutes 47 seconds to spare before the cutoff. Into the rental car and to the Kennedy Center for a Shostakovich Symphony that evening.
Bella is more accommodating with her schedule than those early morning running groups
All of this was a huge ramp-up in mileage and I started to feel discomfort in my right hip. I found a great Physical Therapy group here in DC (https://rosept.com/) and they got me on track with smart cross-training to strengthen my weak glutes. I have a pretty big butt, proportionally speaking, so I was surprised this was an issue. [I promise this is not body dysmorphia. My lower body is objectively quite thick and my upper body is tiny. This definitely gives me an advantage in hill climbing on a bike, so I'm not complaining.] Along with a lot of dry needling (OUCH!!), some tire pulling and a lot of Barre3 classes, I was able to keep the pain from worsening, though the PTs advised that the only way truly to overcome this was to cut way back on mileage and develop a healthier stride. I joined a couple running groups but they all meet so early! I’m sure I’d improve as a runner if I could just get out of bed in the morning.
she doesn't understand the legless dog on the other leash
Despite finishing these races I was far from confident as Desert RATS approached. What about the back to back runs I was supposed to have done? I was feeling new twinges in my Achilles. And heat training? -- the DC heat wave coincided with my taper weeks so I didn't dare put in heavy mileage with my sore ankle. I did a few Barre3 classes in extra clothes (I saw a woman wiping my disgusting sweat off her floor area) and maybe 3 sessions in a hot sauna. Reid had suggested driving around with the heat on in my car, but I don’t have a car. I wrote to him: “I’m going to die in the desert!” He promised I wouldn’t, said that they had a big staff including medical team and they know where we are at all times. My low back started hurting week before the race and I foolishly ran barefoot to a barre class (working on that forefoot strike!) and burned the sole of my foot on the hot pavement. I thought I might be getting a cold. My foot, knee, hip... it was just a matter of time before something hobbled me. There were so many potential deal breakers that would have been non issues on a bike trip. Even heat isn’t a big deal on a bike because you generate your own breeze. The more drenched you are during a climb, the more evaporative cooling you enjoy on the descent. You don't have to be careful about what you eat because biking doesn't make you puke and poop. I texted madly with a guy from the local trail running group about which head lamp to buy. I was fairly certain I had no idea what I was doing.
The previous summer I had attempted a long run during a DC heat wave. It didn't go well.
About a week before the race I started corresponding with a woman on FB who was doing the race and she was very supportive… it was comforting to have an ally who would look after my pitiful inexperienced self. Then she pulled out because of an unresolved foot issue. She overnighted me her favorite electrolytes but I was somewhat devastated she wouldn’t be there to hold my hand.
At 3 AM on departure day (I'd had a performance the previous night so the early morning flight was the only option) I texted my friend Wendy. She’s another bassoonist and an experienced ultrarunner who has been my cheerleader through all of this. I told her I thought there was about zero percent chance I was going to be able to do this. Maybe I’d get through the first day’s 20 miles, but after that… this just seemed ridiculously out of reach. Day two was 39 miles! In the heat! With a sore Achilles! And I was already in sleep deficit. She did her best to talk me down.
Bill asked, “does it matter if you can't do this?” Once more I had to remind myself that this was like any other supported active tour. I could pick and choose how much to do; there are bail-out options every day at every aid station or I could just get a ride from camp to camp. Everything was going to be fine. Sure I might not have an “official finish” but who cares? Nobody here’s competing… at least, certainly, not me.
[Click below for next installment: 2. Arrival in Utah... ]