Skunk Ape 50 Mile Run Recap

Hey there! On Saturday I completed the Skunk Ape Endurance Run in Ocala, Florida. There was a 100 mile option and a 50 mile- I did the 50. The course was an out-and-back (with a slight variation on the way back) and the 100 milers did that TWICE. This made it fun because we got to see runners coming and going.

Full disclosure: I’m still a little mentally foggy! But I was afraid if I waited to write the recap, I would forget too much… so here we go.

Here’s the start at 7 am:

We were off! The beginning of the trail had a lot of roots, and I was worried the whole thing would be like that. But it soon evened out into a beautiful, smooth trail, perfect for running.

The day was forecasted to be HOT, but at this time it was comfortable, the trail was shaded, and I felt great. If you’ve read my other race recaps, you’ll know that I always seem to make a “friend” in these races, and this was no exception. In the early miles I was running near a guy who eventually asked my name.

“Jenny,” I said, “What’s yours?” He said “It’s Forrest! Isn’t that crazy!” What! That is crazy! Then he said “Just kidding. It’s Charlie.” He was running with a friend (Brad) and every time after that when I saw them, he would yell out “JENNAY” (in a Forrest Gump voice). How many times did I see him? Read on to find out.

We came to the first aid station after about 7 miles. Here’s a photo Darlene found on Facebook.

After filling my water bottles, I ran on. The next section had a little more difficult terrain, but nothing terrible. I was still feeling good.

Around 11 miles in, we got to the second aid station. This was one point where we could access drop bags, so I grabbed some more gels and supplies and was on my way again.

I had been enjoying running by myself, but now I was starting to feel a little lonely. Just as I had that thought, from behind me I heard “JENNAY!” It was Charlie and Brad. I decided to run along with them for a while.

We were on a section of pavement that had a lot of hills, and unfortunately Charlie’s pace didn’t work for me. He walked more than I wanted to, but when he ran it was faster than I wanted to go, so I decided I had to do my own thing. I trotted along happily again at my slow but steady pace. Soon after that we got to the next aid station. Here, everyone was talking with dread about the section coming up called “The Berm.” I wonder what’s so bad about it?

I mean- I’ve run in sand. I completed a race called Dunes 50k which had us running up and down sand dunes. But this was worse than any sand I’ve ever encountered. I tried several times to run (because WALKING through the sand for 5 miles seemed unbearable) but eventually gave up. Everyone was walking.

And guess who was there? “JENNAY!” Charlie was keeping up his aggressive walking pace, and I decided to walk right behind him. I didn’t let myself think any thoughts (but if I had, they would have been angry and negative) and just focused on Charlie’s feet in front of me. Trudge, trudge, trudge… at one point someone said “Can you believe we paid to do this?” Ha ha.

After three or four miles we got to a runnable section. I sat down to empty the sand from my shoes, and you wouldn’t have thought it was possible for THAT MUCH SAND to come pouring out of a shoe. And I started to run again. PHEW!

But then… it was The Revenge of The Berm. Yep, the deep sand came back, and I had foolishly run ahead of Charlie. I tried to emulate his aggressive trudging pace, and finally, FINALLY came to this sign.

I emptied another five pounds of sand from my shoes, and ran to the next aid station. They assured us that the sand was done (and you only do The Berm section on the outbound route, not coming back) and that the next section was fun “if you like running up and down hills.” Er…anything is better than sand- bring it on!

This was a 6-ish mile section to the next aid station, which was also the turnaround point. This meant we could see the runners coming back our way, which was fun. I was running alone again, but saw lots of runners coming back towards me, and we all gave each other thumbs up and called out “Great job! Looking good!” until… a woman running toward me held up her hand in warning and said “Watch out- rattlesnake.” And then she ran on.

WHATWHATWHAT??? Rattlesnake???  WHERE? Around the next bend? A mile away? I immediately turned off my music (I had put music on as a reward after The Berm) and slowed down to a cautious walk. What do you do if you see a rattlesnake? I couldn’t remember- run away? Stand still? Throw something at it? (no- pretty sure that one is wrong). After about half a mile I saw more runners coming towards me- they weren’t fleeing in terror and called out the customary “great job!” so I figured it was safe to proceed and started running gain.

I was almost 30 miles into the race, and it was getting hot. The last mile of this section looked like this:

It was in full sun, and when I got to the aid station I knew I had to rest and cool down. The aid station workers told us it was 94 degrees, and they had chairs set up in the shade. I’ve never actually sat down to rest at an aid station- but this time I knew I had to. My goal was to finish this race, and I had to lower my body temperature. They squeezed a sponge of icy cold water over my head, I put ice in my bra, and sat in the shade.

Guess who came into the aid station! “JENNAY!” Charlie was in bad shape. He was very overheated, and sat in a chair near me to rest. I chatted with him and Brad for a while, then was on my way again.

Now I was heading back the way I had come, along “Rattlesnake Way” (as I called it) and things were going well. Until… I caught my foot on a rock and went down. I banged my left knee hard on the ground but got up and kept going. It hurt! But I could run.

I got to the next aid station, and I could feel that left knee. It was okay, but I was pretty sure if I sat down it would stiffen up. So I refueled but remained standing, and this is where I met my second new BFF, Rich.

Rich was doing the 100 mile distance, and was looking for someone to run with. Well… okay. We were at around 36 miles at that point, and were starting a long, hilly road section. I told him I was going to walk all the uphills and run the downhills, and he was fine with that- he was in no hurry.

As we ran, Rich told me he’s from Michigan, and is on a quest to complete a 100 miler in every state. Wow. I actually started to feel a little ridiculous at this point, because the heat was really bothering me- and I’m from Florida! He said the heat didn’t phase him (WHAT). I was also starting to feel nauseous, but at least Rich’s stories of his races kept me distracted. The problem now was, I was running down a lot of hills, and, not to put too fine a point on it, but we really don’t have hills in South Florida. The downhill running started to hurt- my quads were killing me, my shins hurt, and that left knee didn’t feel good either. This whole 6-ish mile section was on pavement, and it was grueling.

Finally we got to the next aid station. Honestly, I wanted to put on a podcast and zone out, so I told Rich to go ahead of me. Great! But shortly after I left the aid station, I saw Rich sitting down, waiting for me. He said “I’m don’t know which way to go.” He had already told me his fatal flaw was getting lost. But I realized- it really wasn’t very clear. We were following pink flags on the ground, and we were at an intersection were there were pink flags in each direction. Huh?

Together, we figured it out and continued on in (what we hoped) was the right direction. Now I was happy to have him with me- my brain was getting fatigued (along with everything else) and it was nice to have someone to navigate with.

FINALLY, we reached the last aid station. I had to use the bathroom, which cruelly was located several hundred feet away- but I really needed it, so I told Rich to go on without me. I knew I would see him either out on the trail or at the finish.

Then I was ready to start the last 7 (OR SO) miles of the race. It was dark, so I turned on my headlamp.

You guys, this was scary. It was my first time ever running on a trail in the dark. But, the course was well marked (the flags had reflective strips) and I forged ahead.

By now, everything hurt. My quads and shins were screaming from all the downhill running. My neck and shoulders were killing me. Remember that achy left hamstring? It had been aching all day (of course) but now it was periodically giving me sharp, shooting pains. I think it was saying “What in the world do you think you’re doing? I’ve been warning you for months that I’m not happy, and now you pull a stunt like this. You’ll pay for this!”

Shut up, hamstring! Shut up, quads! Shut up, body! JUST. KEEP. MOVING. FORWARD.

I was so afraid of falling at this point- every time I ran I would end up stumbling a little. I thought about how it would feel to fall and DNF at mile 48, and decided to power hike the rest of the way. The problem was, I didn’t realize how long it was. I had heard the course was long (very common in trail races- it’s usually not exactly the distance they say) but didn’t realize how long. I passed 50 miles- I passed 51- passed 52- and then next time I looked down, my Garmin had died.

At one point I saw Rich coming towards me- he was going back out for his second loop. I wished him luck and we said our goodbyes (very doubtful I’ll see him again). And then… from behind me I heard “JENNAY!” It was Charlie and Brad! The last time I saw them, Charlie was overcome with heat at the 30 mile point- but the nighttime had given him a second wind. They went on ahead of me and I kept trudging  until…

Finally, finally I came to the finish area. I was so exhausted, I could see the finish line but couldn’t figure out how to get there (it was actually very clear- this was a “me problem”). The race director had to come show me where to go. As I crossed the finish, I stopped on the timing mat and looked down at my feet, letting it sink in that I WAS DONE. And then I heard, once again…

“JENNAY!” Good old Charlie was sitting there, cheering in the runners. We congratulated each other and I thanked him and Brad for making the race fun. Hopefully we’ll meet again.

And that was it! It’s funny- the finish of ultras is usually a bit anticlimactic. I wasn’t thinking “I finished a 50 (AHEM MORE LIKE 54) mile race” but rather “Thank God I can stop now.” But don’t worry- I’m happy. It didn’t take long for it to sink in. I did it!

There’s so, so much more. Coming up tomorrow: The Aftermath and What I Learned.

THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT! I truly appreciate it.