Chuckanut 50k race recap
“I’m so nervous I could cry,” I heard myself tell our six year-old as Tim dropped me off at the designated start line dropoff spot.
As I walked a half mile to the start, I told myself, “This will be hard, but you can do this. You’re committed. Just don’t start out too quickly and make it harder than it already is.
And then what did I do as soon as the race started? Started with a 6 minute and 40 second mile…oops. Race adrenaline made it feel easy, and even though I had purposely stayed 10-15 seconds behind the front pack of experienced ultrarunners, I had made a classic rookie mistake.
“That’s gonna hurt later.” I thought to myself, and followed it up with a slower-yet-still-way-too-fast-for-your-first-ultra 7-minute-paced second mile.
After settling in to a reasonable yet still strong pace, I stayed steady and feeling great for the first 18 miles, even up 4,000 feet of elevation to the top of Mt. Chuckanut.
But what goes up must come down, and the part that’s usually my favorite (running downhill) turned from whee to whoa halfway down the mountain as what felt like an army of fire ants stabbed my quads with each step, leaving me to dig deep for the last 10 or so miles, physically and mentally.
Ultras build grit. I’m so glad I did it. And I’m so glad it’s over. Much respect for people who do these often. Ultras are no joke, yet some people flew by me at the end of their race with huge smiles and kind words to me as I hobbled in. What a cool community.
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