DFL

Bringing up the rear.

Lucky Last.
DFL.
The Red Lantern Award.

However you put it, I was the last person to cross the finish line on Saturday.  This was my first time  being chased by cutoffs and to be honest, it is NOT a good feeling.  What WAS a good feeling?  Crossing that finish line was pretty f***ing fantastic.

Bears Ears Ultra 54k by Mad Moose Events.

Like most industries, COVID has not been kind to the running world.  COVID reared its ugly head at the start of our usual season shutting down all of our events.  When I saw the post that Utah gave MadMoose permission (with many restrictions) to put on the inaugural Bears Ears 54k and 30k, I got super excited.  I was desperate for a real, in-person event.  I signed up almost immediately.

I usually choose my big events meticulously by making comparison charts and taking my time with the decision.  Now here is the funny part.  If you know me, you know I like trail running a lot and I LOVE downhill running.  Uphill? not so much.  I would never sign up for a race like The Ascent or Dirty30.  Why would I do that to myself?  Such silliness.

The night before I was to leave on the trip,
Mad Moose updated the aide station cutoff times. 
I panicked.  My coach had to calm me down. (Thank you Kim!)

So you can imagine my surprise when I started to read the details on this little joggy-jog that I was to run- over 6,500 ft of climbing. HA!  I was horrified but something else to know about me...I am incredibly stubborn.  I signed up so I was going to do it and if I was going to do it, I would give it my all.

My sister agreed to support me for this event and camp with me on our way to Utah.  We stayed in Ouray, Colorado for two nights and then headed to Monticello, Utah.  (Interesting side effect of COVID, campgrounds are PACKED to the brink with families and new campers.  We arrived in Ouray on a Wednesday afternoon and we got the very last campsite...at the THIRD campground we tried. On a Wednesday people! Nuts.)  As always, Ouray was amazing.

On Friday, we packed up and headed over to Utah.  During the three hour drive to Monticello, Utah, I watched as my car's thermometer gradually increased from 67 to 97.  Heat is my kryptonite and along with the elevation gain, the temperature was a major concern.  Thankfully we headed west out of town to camp near the race.  The temperature dropped back into the 80s.  Still very hot for me but at least it was out of the 90s.

We found a campsite right on course about two miles from the start/finish.  We set up camp, ran my shakeout run to check out the start area and then headed into town for packet pickup.  Due to new coronavirus health standards, it was a super fast outdoor grab and go.  We were hardly there for 2 minutes.

The evening & night was typical for race eve.  I ate a good dinner, set out everything for the morning and did not sleep well.  As expected the first crew cars rolled past our campsite waking us up at 4:10am.  It was earlier than our alarm but we knew it was likely and we were prepared for it.  Kirsten (sister) got up to spend the day in Arches National Park as no crew was allowed anywhere on course.  She got there in time for sunrise.  I was already awake as I did not sleep well. So, I got out of my sleeping bag and got ready.

Sunrise at the Start

The start/finish area reminded me of a Vermont party I once attended at a rock quarry. (Ah, camp memories are the best.)  The atmosphere was a mix of the usual pre-race excitement with the unusual COVID mannerisms.   People were standing far apart, many with buff face coverings but you could not escape the sheer joy and adrenaline of the start line.  The bathroom line was suuuuper long but with only 5 people standing 6 feet apart.  The real hand washing station was a win! (I may have used the hand sanitizer to exit the port-o-potty and then fully washed my hands at the station.)  The start was actually a series of starts separated by 30 seconds all while we watched the sunrise. 

Road leading to first aide station-
I named it Jackson Pollock Drive.

The first 4 miles were rolling on packed gravel road and paved road.  I was happy to meet my first goal: Don't get passed by the 30k leaders until after the first aide station.  (Yay me!)   Once past the aide station we switched to single-track trail and started the first big climb up to the open and rolling pastures.  It was stunning.  I love aspen groves and wild flowers.

At about mile 8.5 the 30k runners veered off in one direction while the 54k runners started down a VERY steep trail. About half way down this trail I realized that if I wasn't going to finish the full distance, I would DNF.  There was no switching to the 30k after running down that ridiculously steep trail.  No way.  It was like descending into another world.

I was about a quarter mile to the second aide station when the 54k leader passed me.  Yep, he had reached the second aide station, run the full outer loop, hit the aide station again and was passing me on his way to finishing in less than half the time it took me to finish.  Despite this being fairly common for me, I am always impressed.  First female also passed me on her way and I might have squeeled a bit for her.  So freakin' badass!

So anyway, back to me. I made it to the second aide station where I needed to fill my water reservoir for the first time.  The aide station tables were spread out.  If there was a line (there wasn't when I got there), there were cones separated 6 feet for us to wait safely.  The aide station crew was cheerful and wonderful as always.  It was a bit of a challenge trying to manage all the things myself while trying not to touch the table or anything not mine.  I was a bit of a mess to be honest.  I couldn't dilly-dally as I knew I only had 3 hours to make the loop with 1500ft of gain before the first cutoff.

I went on my way.  I passed the fabulous Moose Herd Rep at a point taking bib numbers and told her my idea for a new name for this race.  "Soul Sucker with a Lovely View."  Yes, it's a bit wordy but captures the essence perfectly.  About a mile later, I fell victim to the ultra running stomach but bounced back nicely.  This is when the start of my endless mathing started.  (Yes, mathing is now a word.)  According to the chart, I needed to get to mile 19.8 by 1pm.  I relaxed a bit knowing that I would be just fine.  Close, but fine.  Unfortunately I didn't take into account that GPS can be off and that this was a brand new course that could also be a bit off.  So, when I reached 19.5 and a passerby told me I was a mile out, I panicked.  Horror-stricken I hauled ass (as much as I could while still climbing for dear-life).  I came flying into the aide station and asked if I could continue despite being 10 minutes late.  Jordan said I could go but it was going to be tough to make the next cutoff.  He would be at the next aide station and we would reevaluate there.  Relieved I refilled the pack, got a baggie of pickles and took off again.

About a mile up the climb, I went dark, entered the pain cave, had a melt down.  I realized it had taken me about 25 minutes with heart pounding to go a single mile.  I lost it.  I got stuck in this terrible internal monologue loop of how there was no way I was going to make the next cutoff.  I would have to go up that horrifying climb just to get pulled.  Then I realized that even if I turned around to go back to the aide station to DNF, they were probably no longer there as they were packing up as I left.  I would be stuck in the middle of nowhere with zero cell service.  I was a mess.  Then for the second time this summer in a very precarious situation, I took a deep breath and put on my big girl pants.  I realized that I would just have to go for it no matter the outcome.  I needed to figure out how to make the best of it.

I made a few changes:
1- I put in my emergency headphones and turned on mountain climbing music.
2- I ate all of those pickles.  (Thank you Kim.  When dark, eat.)
3- I drank a bunch of water.
4- I found some dead branches and turned them into hiking poles.
5- I got moving.

It was extremely difficult but I found myself back at the 30k/54k intersection sooner than expected.  This gave me renewed hope that I could finish this after all.  The beautiful trail continued through a pine forest...and kept climbing up and up and up.  Coming out of the trees I actually saw a person, a real human, up the trail from me.  (Not that directions were a problem as Mad Moose always marks their courses extremely clearly.) It was exciting to see another person but up and up we went some more.  The time ticked by and we were still climbing.  The cutoff was getting closer and we were still climbing.  Just over a ridge, my heart fell.  It was officially the cutoff time and I could see the aide station.  It was much further than expected.  It was mostly downhill at this point so I started fully running.  By the time I got there, I was sooooooo late.  I was devastated but had a glimmer of hope.  I had caught up to the runner ahead of me and we both got there together.

Jordan.  Saint Jordan.  I will be forever grateful that he let us go.  I arrived and told him I absolutely had 8 miles in my legs.  He was worried about his volunteers at the finish.  I get it.  I am a race ambassador and volunteer myself.  I asked him if there were any safety concerns.  He said no.  I can do this I pleaded as I knew that my legs are strong and had it in them.  He is a runner too and said I could continue.  I almost cried I was so happy.  With two oranges in my pockets, I took off for the finish.

It was a glorious last few miles.  Once I hit the dirt road, I knew I was close.  When I hit the paved road and saw the Moose Heard cars, I was so excited.  I had just over two miles to go.  When I passed the lake, I heard my sister and grad school friend from Salt Lake City cheering.  I almost cried.  I was going to finish.  They ran/walked me to the finish line.  I ran around the big dirt pile to the finish and was overwhelmed with the feeling of support from family, friends and the Moose Herd.  I did it. 

During those last few miles, I knew I was going to be DFL.  I spent the time thinking about how I felt about it.  I realized that I was so overcome with the feeling of accomplishment.  I am so proud of this finish.  I mean I almost quit once and was almost yanked once.  I fought for every mile and for every elevation foot climbed.   I came into that last aide station 30 minutes behind but made up time in the last few miles to still finish well before 6 pm.  I crushed those last few miles.  That absolutely stunning course tried to break me but didn't.