Forgotten Florida 50 Mile Race Recap- Live and Learn

This definitely isn’t the race recap I wanted to write, or the one I thought I’d be writing.  On Sunday when I shared that I DNF’d, several people commented that it was due to factors “beyond my control.”  But I’ll be honest- I think most of this was within my control, and not just bad luck.  Let’s get right into it, and talk about THE WEATHER. I’m not trying to make any excuses here- I’m just trying to explain my thought process.  As you may remember, leading up to the race I was concerned about being too hot, but as race day approached it was looking cooler and rainy.  Here’s the forecast the morning of the race: Okay- 66 degrees isn’t cold, is it?  BACK ME UP, PEOPLE.  I run in tank tops almost year-round.  On New Year’s Eve, it was 49 degrees when I started my long run, and I was wearing a tank top.  Of course, it was sunny.  But 60 degrees at the start and cloudy didn’t seem too cold at all- actually, I was excited about it- and the rain wasn’t due to start until noon. There was my first mistake- I based my whole race, the race I had trained for and dreamed about for months and months, on a weather forecast.  We all know forecasts aren’t 100% accurate, and this one wasn’t.  The temperature hovered around 60 the entire time, and it rained steadily for almost the whole day. Here I am at the start.  I wasn’t uncomfortable at all- maybe slightly chilly, but that’s the way you want to feel before a race, because when you start running you’ll warm up.  That is, if you’re running fast.  But the start of this race was very slow because there was a lot of technical single-track, which meant some slow running and walking in places.  And… it started raining about ten minutes into the race. At this point, many runners stopped and pulled rain jackets out of their bags.  Silly runners! (I thought.) You’ll be much too warm in those!  It was beautiful though, running through the woods.  I couldn’t take any pictures because I couldn’t exactly hold up an entire line of runners behind me while I got my phone out (“Sorry everyone, just hold on a second while I get some photos for my blog!”)  It went on like that for a few miles, and then we emptied out onto a wider dirt path. After a mile or so we were back in the woods, and now there were some muddy areas, some of which had little “bridges” over them.  Again no photos, because it was very wet and slippery, and I was just focused on staying upright.  At one point I asked the woman behind me if she wanted to pass me and she said “no, this isn’t the time to go fast- this is the time for caution.” Here’s a photo I took a little later on, to give you an idea: At this point I was still feeling good and enjoying the trail.  I did notice that my arms felt cold, but the rest of me was warm.  At around mile 5 I took a Lara bar out of my pack, and I noticed that it was hard to get my pack unzipped and the bar open because my hands were so cold.  Hmm. Around mile 8 we had a two mile stretch on a road.  By this point I realized I needed to move faster in order to warm up, so I booked it.  Of course that’s a relative term- at one point I looked down at my watch and saw that I was running around 9:40 pace.  I passed so many runners on this stretch, and it wasn’t because I was feeling competitive or I was trying to make up time- I was simply trying to warm up.  It worked, and I felt pretty good. When I got to the 10 mile aid station everything was still feeling good, except I was having a lot of trouble moving my fingers.  The aid station volunteers refilled my water bottles, and I was on my way. Now we were back on trails, and it was dawning on me that I was seriously underdressed.  I had a hat, gloves, and arm warmers in my drop bag, which I would see at the 30 mile aid station.  Well, that was a long way away, but at least there was hope.  I resigned myself to being cold for a while, and just tried to move as quickly as possible. It was just before I came to the next aid station, at 15 miles, that I twisted my ankle and fell.  It wasn’t even on a super technical area- it was just grassy, and I guess I hit a little rut and went down.  In retrospect, I think that my concentration and coordination were affected because I was so cold.  Of course I’ll never know for sure, but I think it’s very possible that’s why I fell. I got to the aid station, and I knew my ankle was hurt but I couldn’t tell how bad it was.  I had to ask the aid station volunteer to unzip the pocket of my shorts, take out my energy bar, and unwrap it for me, because I knew my fingers couldn’t do it.  And then I continued on. I figured I would walk for a little until my ankle felt up to running, but after a few minutes I noticed something alarming- my teeth were chattering.  I knew I had to run, so I tried it.  Running didn’t seem to hurt more than walking- my ankle hurt either way.  If this had been a flat surface I might have been able to run for a while.  The problem was, it wasn’t flat.  It was rooty, wet, and muddy.  Every time I stepped down on an uneven surface (i.e. every other step) there was a fresh jolt of