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 pain in my ankle. I realized if I twisted it one more time, I might not be able to put any weight on it at all. So I walked.
Now you might be thinking- why didn’t you TURN AROUND and walk one mile back to the aid station you just passed??? Great question. It didn’t even occur to me. At that point I hadn’t come to terms with the fact that I was going to DNF, and I just thought I had to keep pushing forward.
Do you know how long it takes to walk 7-ish miles through the woods on a sprained ankle? Eventually we came to a grassy field, and were confronted with areas like this:
You guys, I’ve never been so cold in my whole life. I know- that sounds crazy. I grew up in Illinois, and we had some COLD winters (I was there when we set a windchill record of -86, a record that still stands to this day.) But now I was soaking wet and this was a deep, deep, bone-chilling cold that lasted for hours. I would say it took mental strength to keep going, but that’s not really true. There was simply no choice- I just had to keep moving forward. Is there a word that means worse than miserable? That’s what I was.
As you can imagine, so many runners passed me. At first people asked how I was doing and I would say “fine!” or “a little chilly!” There was really nothing anyone could do.
Finally, I was literally shaking with cold and my teeth were chattering violently. When people passed me and asked if I was okay, I started telling them that I was freezing cold and that I couldn’t run on my ankle. One woman stopped to walk with me and I told her what happened, and said I was afraid I was so far behind, I was the last one out there and that there would be no one at the aid station when I got there. This was completely ridiculous- but my mind wasn’t working properly at that point.
She assured me that there were still a few people behind us, we were still ahead of the cutoff, and that I would be there soon. I think she was one of the ones who alerted them at the aid station, because she ran off, a few minutes later I heard a truck starting, and then I FINALLY saw a tent in the distance- the 23 mile aid station.
They put me right in the truck, which already had the heat blasting. I told the guy (the owner of the truck- sorry about all the mud on your passenger seat!) that I was DNF’ing, and he said that was fine, but then apologetically said he had to take my bib. He said “You can get it back later if you want to keep it.” Ha ha… nooooo thanks. I don’t think I’ll need a reminder of the time I DNF’d my dream race. I told him I was happy to give him my bib but there was no way I could get it unpinned- my hands were literally useless. They were white, swollen, and I couldn’t move my fingers at all. He said “that’s okay- you’re going to be here for a while!”
He wasn’t kidding. The interesting thing about DNF’ing a trail race in the middle of nowhere is, you can’t just get a quick ride back to your car. I had to wait for this aid station to be completely broken down, and as luck would have it, runners came into this aid station and then went out on a five mile loop, and came BACK TO THIS AID STATION. So I had to wait while every single runner completed the next five mile loop, then had to wait while they took apart the entire aid station and loaded everything into this truck. I was there for three hours.
If it had been a beautiful day and I was feeling great and then sprained my ankle and had to drop out of the race, I would have been devastated. But as it was, I had been so miserable out there, I was happy to be sitting in the warm truck. Once my hands were working again, I spent the time texting back and forth with my husband, and answering texts from well-wishers “Good luck today! You got this!” “Well, actually…”) I also dozed off for a while.
FINALLY, he drove me back to my car, which was at the finish line. And… there was a runner finishing. He was one of the earlier finishers because it was about nine hours in. I could see him coming in and a small crowd of people cheering, and I have to admit my eyes welled up with tears for a minute. I was so, so sure I would be finishing this race! But at the same time… it was STILL raining. The spectators were all huddled under umbrellas, and it all looked pretty desolate. At that point I just couldn’t wait to get back to my hotel and take a hot bath, and then get some ice on my ankle.
So, what did I learn? Well, a trail race is not a road race. I’ve been running for a long time, but I’m still new to trail running. If you’re going to be out there for 12 hours (or longer) you have to be prepared. I need a different hydration vest, one with room to carry more supplies. LIKE A WATERPROOF RAIN JACKET. Take the weather seriously and be prepared for anything!
My other takeaway: I’ll never complain about the heat again. I mean it!!! I don’t like the heat, but I understand how to manage it. Water over my head, ice in my bra… those things I can cope with. I didn’t know how to manage the cold, but now I know where I went wrong. The odds of running another race in Florida where it’s 60 degrees and raining all day are slim, but if it happens, I’ll know what to do.
This post has been long, so Part 2 is coming up tomorrow where I will tell the story of Jonathan (it’s a good one!) and answer burning questions such as “How is that ankle doing now?” and… “What’s next?”
Thanks for reading!
I’m linking up with Jenn and Zenaida this week for their Tuesday Topics.
54 Responses
I think it’s funny that it didn’t occur to you to turn around, but it makes sense that at that point you didn’t think you were DNF, so of course you wouldn’t want to turn around. I’m so sorry that this happened, but glad that your injury wasn’t worse, glad that you were able to get to help when you needed it, glad that you have such good head space around it.
Thank you Jules! Yes, the fact that I could have turned around didn’t occur to me till much, much later… like when I was already back in my hotel. Yes, things could have been much worse!
I don’t reckon ANY of us would have thought to have turned around. Even when I fell in my last race, and my friend ran back to the marshal we’d just passed to get them to call it in, we then moved forward. So there’s that.
And on the kit you didn’t have, well, yes, there is that. BUT in the UK for any trail race (pretty well at all, DEFINITELY for my 18-mile canal canter and my ultra, which was only 30 miles) they had a kit list, including a waterproof jacket, and they did spot-checks and you would be pulled off the course if you didn’t have the right kit. I remember this very clearly because I carried a stupid wobbly collapsible cup round with me on both because you could only use a reusable cup and I didn’t spend out because I knew I wouldn’t use it again much). So if they did have a kit list and you didn’t pay attention to it (which I can’t believe you would do as you’re careful), then yes, kit fail, but if they didn’t, then it might be an idea to suggest they do this for another race in the future as it would have saved you risking hypothermia.
The only required items were a headlamp, and to have the GPX file downloaded on our phones. As I said, this weather was incredibly rare for Florida- the only thing they warned about ahead of time was possibly being too HOT. So… it was still my fault. I just didn’t know.
Oh my goodness, Jenny! Thanks, this was an amazing read. The whole time I was thinking “this could have been me”. I ALWAYS underdress and hate carrying stuff with me. I can see how easy it was to fall in the trap of thinking “I’ll be warm enough when running”.
And I think you’re right, twisting your ankle wasn’t a haphazard accident – it was a way of your body telling you “it’s enough”. I can’t even imagine how it must have felt waiting in the car for three hours, all soggy. Did you have a blanket?
Do you know how many more dropped out of the race? I’m sure there were quite a few!
Yes, they gave me a big towel to wrap around myself. My clothes were still wet, but they dried with the truck heater blasting on them. LOTS of people DNF’d from the 100 (not surprising) and there were a bunch from the 50.
I’m so sorry to hear you didn’t finish your race but clearly you did the right thing, continuing would have been impossible. I had to convert your temp. to celsius, to work out how cold it was. I count that as cold, not tank top weather for me but I usually dress warmer than others when I run. It’s so frustrating when a race you’ve been training for many months goes sideways. I hope you ankle is feeling better. You are just beginning in your trail running adventure and it really is different to road running
Yes, I’m a trail newbie, which is something I forget about sometimes. There will be lots more races.
Jenny, this was INTENSE to read. What a detailed account of your race. I’m so sorry you had such a disappointing outcome. Your attitude is so positive and forward looking, and I love that! But I also feel a little defensive on your behalf — if you can’t go by the weather forecast, what can you do?! Plus, I just don’t understand how a person who is RUNNING for 50 miles can carry a bunch of “just-in-case” items? I guess, like you said, this was a learning experience for next time. Also, in no way is the ankle twist your fault. That could have happened on a hot, dry day just as easily.
I laughed when you mentioned not turning around to the aid station that was closer. Of course you kept going! I am in awe that you ran on that ankle for so many more miles. I really hope the sprain is less severe than it looked in the photos and that you make a full recovery soon.
Like I said last time, you are a rockstar. Thank you for taking us along on your run with you.
Thank you Suzanne! And that is a good point- what is the point of a weather forecast if you can’t trust it at all? Still- next time I’ll be prepared for anything.
Jenny, I think you just got unlucky here, as even being a seasoned runner, I may not have had anything but a tank top either!! Actually I do not carry a waterproof jacket, even if it is raining, but I do always carry this windbreaker https://www.patagonia.com/product/womens-houdini-windbreaker-jacket with me. It is super tiny but man it has come in handy, even once when it was snowing in May at one of my races! You seem in good spirits and I hope that you are chalking this up as a learning experience and are getting ready to sign up for your next race soon 🙂
Thank you Kyria, I will probably get that jacket! I definitely need something from now on. I’m looking at races coming up… it all depends on how fast my ankle heals up.
The weather and trail conditions sound tough! Most of the races I’ve done so far have been in mountainous areas, sometimes with very remote stretches, so the race directors have required runners to carry certain items, like a space blanket and rain jacket just in case. In my first race (trail marathon in Utah) I got caught in a hailstorm around mile 15 and I was so thankful to have a rain jacket because I’m sure I would have been as cold as you if I hadn’t and may have had to drop. Getting wet and staying wet really sucks the heat out of your body! And I’m sure you didn’t have to deal with anything like this in your training. But now you know for next time so you’ll be better prepared! Ultrarunning is all about the lessons learned along the way, whether we finish or not, it makes us better for the next time we line up at a race!
Yes! I encountered nothing like that in my training- or, really, ever as long as I’ve lived in Florida. But there’s a first time for everything, and now I know.
Oh Jenny. I still want to give you the biggest hug and take you out for tea. I’m sure there are so many emotions right now, but looking at those pictures – the course looks HELLISH! I can’t believe you made it as far as you did. As someone who hates being cold, I want to cry for you because it sounds SO MISERABLE and I wouldn’t have lasted a mile in those conditions.
Sending lots of love and warm vibes (from FRIGID Nova Scotia). XoXo
Brrr…. for all my complaints about the heat, I don’t like being cold either! It really was terrible. But I’m appreciating the warm vibes from NS!!!
Wow, Jenny, that sounds absolutely dreadful. I’m so sorry your dream race went this way. I’m sure you’re very disappointed but wow, I can just imagine how cold you were and how long it took to warm up.
Yep, it’s really disappointing. But- all is well now (I mean, for the most part- still waiting on the ankle to heal up.) But I’m definitely appreciating being warm!!!
So sorry this happened but running 27 more in the cold rain!?
Yes live and learn.
I know you will do another.
Hope the ankle heals fast.
Thank you Darlene! Yes, I’ll be doing another! Heal fast, ankle!
This post brought tears to my eyes. I know this disappointment well. And I also know the cold well. This happened to me at a 12 hour race that had a 5 mile loop. It was raining as well but the temp wasn’t what I thought would be so cold. I had the same issue with my hands and my teeth chattering uncontrollably. Luckily, since this was a loop race, I could run to my car to warm up for a few minutes before starting the next loop but that didn’t last long. As soon as I would leave the warmth of my car I would just start freezing again. Everyone that runs ultras has at least 1 DNF if not more. I have a friend from high school that I ran cross country with and she loves ultras but has DNF’d quite a few! Once you grieve the race you had hoped you would have you can use this as a learning experience. Now you know to expect the unexpected. Also, did you have a pacer, were you allowed that at this race? I know just having a pacer or someone meeting you at the aid stations with dry gear and supplies you may need is so helpful. At my 50K I had slammed my head into a downed tree (don’t even ask) and blood was pouring down my back. It looked worse than it was, but a friend had come to help me and I texted him to be sure to bring me a fresh hat and some wipes at the next aid station! I will say I have learned to always have a pair of gloves with me. For some reason my hands get so cold when others don’t and I have trouble using my fingers. So I may be running in leggings and a tank top but I will also be wearing my gloves, lol!
I am so sorry it didn’t end up how you hoped. But there will be another one! And this race will just help you be an even better runner, I am sure of it.
Thank you so much, Melodie! It sounds like we have lots in common (cold hands, for one thing.) Yes, my race sounds like yours- it was raining, the temperature was a little colder than I thought it would be and I didn’t take into account being soaking wet. No, we weren’t allowed pacers for this- the 100 milers were allowed a pacer after the first 50 miles. And the first time to see crew and drop bags were at mile 30- so everything ind of conspired against me, I guess you could say. I know you’re right- I have to grieve this one and move on. I really did learn a lot.
Lesson learned! Onward! I agree with Liz, though – the race organizers required you to have other gear (I think that’s the reason you had the headlamp?), so maybe they should have included a windbreaker/rain jacket in the kit list, too. I appreciate that you want to take some responsibility, but I don’t think you need to put it all on your shoulders.
But what I really want to talk about is how wonderful your writing in this post is. I generally do not find race recaps all that interesting because I am not a runner and the details of one race look a lot like the details of another to non-experts (sorry, runners! I mean no disrespect – it’s all AMAZING to me how far and how fast you run, but the details aren’t fascinating), but even though I knew the outcome of this race, I was absolutely riveted by your retelling of the details. I mean, I think if I were cold and hurt, I wouldn’t be cataloging details about the track – it would just be an anxiety spiral of thoughts (“this is how I die,” “this is where they will find my dead body”), but you wrote about trail conditions! and food! and other runners! What great writing!
Omg THANK YOU ENGIE!!! That makes me feel so great! I’m glad. I really do find this stuff fascinating and I’m glad I was able to share it well. I’m laughing at your “this is where they will find my dead body.” I MIGHT have had a thought or two like that, ha ha.
It seems like you are taking this in stride and not being too hard on yourself. Take solace in Kyria’s comment about how she doesn’t even pack windbreakers because she does a ton of trail races and is very smart about what to pack, etc. Who would have thought you’d have to worry about being cold in Florida! I ran my 2nd marathon in the rain but I was running at a decent clip so I was able to stay warm. I think I wore a tank top and it was 60 and raining but I was running 9:30-10:30ish pace so kept warm and it stopped raining at some point. But wow were my friend and I freaking out when we saw rain in the forecast. Running in the rain can really suck. And 50 miles in the rain and through mud and puddles and such? Yikes.
I look forward to part 2 of your recap!!
Thanks Lisa! Yes- I think if I could have run at a steady clip like that I could have kept warm enough. But then it wouldn’t have been a trail race, and that’s what I signed up for! Live and learn for sure.
Temperature is relative! 60 degrees is my personal kryptonite where I can start experiencing heat distress. The only running that I’ve ever done in FL is on the treadmill or on the beach. Even in hindsight I can’t come up with a scenario where you would have thought to bring GLOVES with you. The fact that it didn’t occur to you to turn around and go back to the 15 mile aid station==>you and every other runner out there would have done this. Our brains just aren’t wired to take on that kind of math.
As I’ve been doing my hiking challenge I’ve developed new respect for people who run on the trails. Your pictures look very familiar. There are all kinds of nooks and crannies out there waiting to take down an ankle, and lots of slippery spots in the mud.
I am not going to hold you to your promise not to complain about the heat ever again! There’s plenty to grouse about there as well.
I’m waiting with baited breath for part 2. Yes trail running/ultras have risks but man they make for some great stories!
YES. I’ve been out running where it’s in the 60s, and if the sun is blazing down, I start to feel warm. That’s why I thought, “oh, 60s and overcast (with maybe a drizzle of rain- HA-) that will be perfect!” Even when I slipped my hat, gloves, and arm warmers into my drop bag at the last minute I felt kind of silly- like, I’m not going to be needing THESE! I also had sunscreen in there, which is really hilarious. No, I didn’t need that!
I am so sorry this happened at your dream race 🙁 I could totally relate to all of it – your brain just does NOT work when you are running long, and rain is tricky! There are so many different kinds, it’s hard to know what to wear, especially for something so long. I am so glad you got help at the end and warmed up and napped. I hope your ankle heals fast!
Thank you Kim! Yes, i got plenty of help. And if need be, they would have come looking for me. I know now they wouldn’t have left anyone out on the trail. I’m also hoping my ankle heals fast! I’m ready for the next thing. : )
Huge hugs. I can only imagine what you’re feeling, especially with this being your dream race. The rain this past weekend was absolutely awful and I know you must have been miserable out there (it would have been miserable even with a rain jacket and gloves and not spraining your ankle).
I’m proud of you for putting yourself out there, and for getting as far as you did. I know that the result wasn’t what you wanted but there will be other races. Rest up on that ankle and you’ll be back out there soon.
Thank you Jenn! Yes, you probably got the rain as well! And you’re right- even with the proper gear and not spraining my ankle it might have been pretty awful. I’m doing everything I can to rehab this ankle ASAP!
I am amazed at your awesome outlook! Very inspirational.
Aw, thanks Sarah. I appreciate it!
Oooh this sounds so miserable. (Except the trail through the forest before you got injured) I totally understand it must have taken a LONG time to walk through the forest with a twisted ankle. Well done getting there but of course you didn’t have a choice!
I don’t know about Florida but here we can only trust the weather forecast at most 1-2 days in advance. The weather changes so quickly when we’re surrounded by the sea. And so is Florida! Well at least you learned to prepare for bad weather! The ankle incident WAS out of your control, though!
Yes, I really learned a lot! And I was going by the forecast ON THAT MORNING. But still… you never know.
Really enjoyed this recap. Each race teaches us about something that we didn’t know. I totally get the lack of mind power when we are physically impaired. I swear I can’t do math after 3 hours of running. I hate cold too, I get cold all the time so I also don’t complain about heat anymore. When I did my marathons, it always started too cold for me so I wear few layers to throw away as I warm up. One day, maybe it was in Tokyo,, I remember the last few miles got colder and I felt cold together with the sweat and it was uncomfortable. I never got to the point that you were, so I can imagine how “painful” it is and scary It could be when there’s nobody around.
Adding to part 2, another question: will you do another trail 50 miler?
YES I WILL COCO! I already have one I want to do… if my ankle heals soon enough.
Yes, being cold is awful. One of my friends said there’s something frightening about being cold… and I think she’s right. Being hot is unpleasant but not scary!
I know how important this race was to you and how much time and effort you put into your training. In time, I hope you know that all of that training is the real accomplishment! All of those long runs and marathons you ran by yourself count. Race day is like one bad run. Every race also teaches something and you really learned a lot that I know you will take with you on future runs. Hope your ankle is starting to feel better already. Hang in there
Thank you Deborah! Yes, I can honestly say that I enjoyed the training. Nothing is guaranteed on race day! There will be other races.
I’m sorry you didn’t finish, but glad you’re taking what you can from it and moving on. I am almost always too hot, and I don’t run but have ended up in situations where I was cold because I just couldn’t conceive of needing warmer clothes, and it is humbling. Best wishes for fast healing.
Yes, you described my situation perfectly. I’m always hot and I just couldn’t believe I would be cold! Well… now I know.
I kept saying how weird it was that we had nonstop rain for TWO days in Florida last weekend. We don’t get nonstop rain like that! So I don’t blame you for thinking it wouldn’t rain the whole time – that’s just not how rain works in Florida, haha. I hope your ankle is feeling better and isn’t too sore. I’m glad you were able to warm up in the truck.
You seem to have a good, positive attitude about your race, so I’m glad you’re not beating yourself up about not finishing. There will be other races and this was just one to chalk up to a learning experience. <3
Thank you Stephany! Glad a fellow Floridian could back me up- WHEN does it every rain all day for two days straight??? Only when I’m running a 50 mile race, apparently.
Wow Jenny I’m so sorry how it all turned out. It sounds like miserable conditions. While I know it was not the outcome you wanted I hope you are proud of yourself for all of the hard work you put into your training – seriously a great effort. I hope your ankle heals quickly!
Thank you Michelle! Yes, there were good things about all this. I enjoyed the training, and i really did learn a lot. I can’t wait to get back to it, when my ankle is healed.
I am so sorry it turned out this way. I know you spent hours and hours training for this race. Hugs to you!
Thank you Zenaida!!! I’ll take any and all hugs this week.
Ok, wow! I read this on my phone days ago but am finally getting a chance to sit down and write a comment. This is such an amazing recap. I really do love your writing/blogging style- there’s something about it that is just so easy to read! This whole thing is just astounding, too. I can’t believe it all panned out that way! It’s crazy. I mean, who would have thought that the weather would be a COLD factor in Florida?! I kind of can’t believe you had to sit and wait so long in that truck to get “evacuated”… I mean, I realize it’s a big operation there, but seems like there might have been some way to have them get you out sooner! At least you were pretty comfortable and warm and could nap a bit. A few years ago the Ironman in WI (held in 1st weekend of September- traditionally still very hot weather in WI) experienced this weird cold snap and… rain. And rain like we basically never get here- a steady, even rain that just rained, and rained, and rained for the entire day. It was unreal. (I am not even joking, it rained from like 5 am until midnight- and as you know, an Ironman race is very very long). Anyway, Ethan had a soccer game that day too and it was just so cold and miserable (temps in low 50s I think at the most) that I was shuddering thinking of what those Ironman athletes were facing. Not to mention the SWIM! And then the continuous, cold rain after?! OMG. Anyway, the conditions you were facing were no joke. I’m so sorry, again. that it turned out this way! But as my son’s swim team used to say after the whole covid thing, “The comeback is stronger than the setback.”
Ooh! I like that. The comeback is stronger than the setback.
As far as sitting there for three hours- I’m sure if I were having a medical emergency, they would have gotten me out of there ASAP. But, I was warm and dry, so they couldn’t really spare on of the aid station volunteers.
OMG that Ironman- I’m miserable just hearing about it. Yes, who would think there would be those conditions in early September???? Ugh.
Oh Jenny, I’m so sorry this happened to you. It could have happened to any of us, especially during a trail race. Thank you, though, for recapping your experience.
Understanding what went wrong is so key. Otherwise you just think “Oh that won’t happen again” and don’t change prep.
So glad you’re relatively OK
-86. BRR!
Well, first of all, let me confirm… everything north of 60F is “warm” for running, but only if it’s dry/sunny and if you’re actually moving. 60F and rain becomes freezing really fast and I am sorry that you weren’t prepared for this. I can imagine though that it’s hard to prepare for a race that is so long. I am just glad you made it to the aid station (and the heated car!) after you rolled on your ankle. God, that sounds miserable and I can imagine that you didn’t really care about DNFing at this point because you just felt so lousy!
However, I feel your disappointment about not finishing this dream race. But you gave it your best shot!
Oh, Jenny. I’m so sorry about the DNF but amazed at your mental (and, apparently, physical) resilience. I would have DNS’d, so there you go. It’s astonishing more people were not injured on a trail with such horrible conditions. You’ll be back – I know you already are, mentally – and I can’t wait to read about you finishing your next trail ultra!!!