The Leona Divide 50m

Hello, my name is Ethan Newberry and I am an Ultra Runner.

Hot DAMN, I’ve been waiting to say those words for awhile now! After running (we’ll just call it “moving”) this race, I feel comfortable saying them and damn it feels good to get it out there. The Leona Divide 50 Miler was my very first 50 miler race, my first run longer than 32 miles, and it gave me a taste of what some of you seasoned ultra runners deal with when you put your bodies through these crazy tests of endurance. Yes, I’ve run a couple of 50k trail races, but man, compared to what the Leona Divide 50 miler did to me, they pale in comparison (and they were TOUGH!). Grab a cup of coffee, a mimosa or perhaps a black IPA and sit back. This one will be a long read (WITH A VIDEO AT THE END!) that will hopefully take less time to read than I took to race. Also, I will be posting a separate gear blog outlining everything I wore/ate during the race so keep an eye out for that. Ok, here we go!

PREFACE

First of all, I cannot tell you how much more respect I have for ultra runners. I mean, I’ve always respected the big guns, the Krupricka’s and Jornet’s who eat CRs and FKTs for breakfast on the weekends. Hell, every race I’ve ever run I’ve been blown away by the talent that seems to rocket over the same course sometimes twice as fast. But, man, that respect flows down to EVERY HUMAN WHO HAS RAN 50 MILES OR MORE. You are 100% badass.

Oh, Dean. You should work out more.

I am a green horn in this sport and I’m very aware that I’m new and lack a lot of experience. I can’t help but feel like a road-marathon-turned-trail-runner, Ultramarathon-Man-Reading, Born-To-Run-minimal-footwear-lesson-spouting schmuck trying to join up with the badass trail hounds who’ve been at it for years. I’m the first guy to admit that when I show up to a race I feel a little out of place amongst so many veterans and pros – you know, like a ginger amongst non-gingers. There’s no doubt that ultras have had a huge surge in recent years and my goal has always been to never “follow trends”. I started running trails to escape the horrible street-running of Los Angeles, to find respite amongst the trees, shrubs and singletrack. Man, I remember buying my first pair of “trail runners” (aka hiking boots that flex) when I was a teenager and would summit Little Si every weekend. However, now after 2013 Leona, I feel like I tallied off a pretty good notch in my Ultra belt; a notch that may very well get me a few nods from those who ran that day.

TRAINING

Based on how much I was crushed by the 50k races I’ve ran, I had a feeling 50 miles would wreck me and push me to my limit, both physically and mentally, but I had no idea on how many levels. There is a vast difference between 50k and 50m – not just 19 miles (and I can only imagine how much bigger gap there is between 50m and 100m!!) and they both require their own set of preperations. Since I ran The North Face 50k in December, I’ve known I would eventually run a 50 miler. Come 2013, I knew I wanted it to be Leona for a couple of reasons: I had heard Keira Henninger puts on amazing races that have all the SoCal ultra runners buzzing; It was in late April so I had a few months to really train for it; and finally, it was a qualifier for the Western States 100 (sub 11hr). Now, I need to preface that last part by saying Western States 100 is like a 10 year plan for me. Yes, it’s been a dream of mine for many years to run that course, but will realistically take many MORE years to make it through the lottery system, hoards of registrants, and qualifications. I’m in no rush.

For training, I used the Ray Miller 50k in February and LA Marathon in March as the big trainers for this race. I’d supplement the weeks between with hefty mileage weekends and thorough base building through the week. I really just wanted to have some good mileage under my belt for the confidence in knowing my body could take it. As it stands, the longest single run I ran pre-Leona was Ray Miller (32m) and the biggest weekend was a 26.2 fun-run on a Saturday with my buddy Colin followed by a grueling and snowy summit attempt of Mount Baldy on Sunday. Here’s the video from that weekend:

With a few weeks off due to sickness and injury (damn HIP FLEXOR INJURY!!), my confidence for Leona was wavering to say the least. Sure I had logged a couple 60-70 mile weeks in the months leading up, but those felt so far behind me and I never felt like I dominated them. Now, approaching race week, I started keeping a keen eye on the weather as well. The race takes place in Lake Hughes, California which is high desert country (LD50 jumps between 3000 & 5100ft). Years past have recorded moderate temperatures ranging from 50˚F-75˚F. But, oh boy, this year wasn’t looking so good. Temperatures were expected to climb well past 90˚F and a lot of the course is fully exposed. I should tell you now that The Ginger doesn’t do well in heat. I hate it and having had exercise-induced heat stroke a number of times, it scares me. If I were to take a month and acclimate, I can deal with it fine, but the weeks leading up to the race were mild SoCal warm. Nothing hot. this was going to be similar to an ice-cold ginger polar bear being thrown on top of a steam-powered locomotive engine full of hot lava in hell fire. Fuck my face.

The Leona Divide 50m Course

PRE-RACE

The week of the race, I started to put all of my plans together. I went outside in the middle of the day as the temperatures were rising to do some last minute heat-hiking in hopes of acclimatizing. I started to organize nutrition and hydration scenarios – worst and best case. I also came to the conclusion that I pack a LOT for little trips. I probably had enough nutrition for two 100 mile races. I’m used to doing things a certain way for marathons and training runs of a certain distance, but having never taken my body beyond 32 miles, there’s this whole 18 miles of unkown. Will my body reject solid food? Will I like the taste of anything? Do I need more GUs or liquid fuel? Will I be able to absorb my water or salt pills? Will I throw up like everyone says I will? WILL I DIE?!

Come Friday, the day before the race, I met up with my buddies Billy Yang and David Daley for some carb-tastic dinner grub and the hour-long drive up to Palmdale where the three of us would stay the night – in one bed, spooning*. Billy was running the 50 miler as well and Dave was rocking the 50k (having just annihilated the Connemarathon 39 miler in Ireland 2 weeks prior. Beast.). What I thought was going to be a peaceful night of pre-race sleep slowly turned into a long, shitty-pillow-tossing-and-turning night of zero sleep for all three of us. I’m pretty sure we were awake well before my 3:45am alarm based off how quickly we all jumped out of bed to get ready.

Me being all zen-like.

As I do with every race, I methodically put together my gear, my drop bag and used the quiet moments to myself to gather my thoughts. While I always get a little anxious before races, I was particularly so for this one – as anyone that knows me can attest. My mind wouldn’t stop worrying about the heat, my training, my nutrition, my hydration, the unknown. It was all about to happen and there was nothing I could at this point but ride the wave and trust my knowledge, training and luck to get me through to the finish. The three of us gathered our things and made our way to Lake Hughes to snag our bibs, stash our gels and run our ass off.

* – No actual spooning occurred. Sorry ladies.

THE RACE

As the three of us started our walk towards the start line, I caught a glimpse of my girlfriend, Mile Long Legs, and good buddy, Andrew (who shot most of the photos in this blog), walking towards us. They had left LA at butt-o-clock to get to the start in time to see us all off, so I excitedly greeted them (one with a kiss, the other with a firm handshake – I’ll let you decide who gets what) and continued on towards the now very busy startline. Once there I also ran into my good buddy, Eric, and other ultra friend, Guillaume, who were running the 50k and 50m respectively. Before we could finish our greetings and pre-race photos, Jimmy Dean Freeman‘s golden voice rang across the throng of racers. “It’s going to be a mother fucking hot day”, he said without hesitation. Gulp.

The Gang all ready to race!

And in a flash, we were off. The first few miles are relatively runnable uphill miles that took us up fire roads and gifted us with some spectacular sunrise vistas. The first few miles were where I really began to pound into my head, “Do NOT go fast. Do NOT forget to eat and drink. Do NOT fuck up.” I wanted to make sure I took this race as easy as possible, not just to finish strong, but to make sure my body didn’t destroy itself in the intense heat I knew was inevitably hours away. Before I knew it, I began to enjoy the trails and the views. I didn’t care what was going on around me or what was going to happen 40 miles ahead. I was FINALLY able to just take the race in one mile at a time. I really grasped the idea that there was nothing I could do but stay on track and move forward.

By mile 10, I was really excited and embracing the challenge ahead. This is also where we jump onto our first stretch of the Pacific Crest Trail – a long, beautiful snake of singletrack that runs from Canada to Mexico. We got to enjoy miles and miles of it. In fact, it seemed some people were SO hypnotised by it’s splendor that at mile 12.5, many missed a turn to continue on the trail as it deviated off some singletrack to the right. Luckily, my acute ginger-sense noticed the flags and flour-arrows so I yelled up to some of them who relayed the message further up the chain of trail blazers. You’re welcome, people. I just saved your LIVES!

The early miles were gorgeous.

I was beginning to feel like my nutrition and hydration were dialed in. I was taking in about 100-130 calories every 30 minutes, sipping water to thirst, and popping 2-3 endurolytes per hour. Pretty comparable to my typical race plan. I usually always under-eat due to nerves, but I was in it to win it this day. Hell, I was a MACHINE. A machine that was delighted by the gorgeous zig-zagging singletrack that sunk its way into aid station 3 (mile 16.2). That is until I stormed around a corner and was instantly greeted by two young female runners who – without ANY shame – were squatting and relieving their bowels immediately trailside for all to see. FOR ALL TO SEE. EVERYTHING. CANNOT UNSEE. Seriously, it was as if one had rotated her body purposefully so that absolutely everything I shouldn’t be seeing was seen all at once in one glance.

(side note: to anybody who can pee pee and poo poo in the open in front of hundreds of complete strangers at race starts or along the course: I commend you. Not because you have enough confidence in your body to let it all hang out without a care in the world, but because you can focus all of your attention on your own ‘nethers’ to get the job that needs gettin’ done done. Seriously, bravo. Also, gross).

I go from smiling…

As I continued to try and block out the pooping butt visual, I could hear the hootin’ and hollerin’ of aid station #3. This was the first aid station that our crew could access and would also double as aid station #9 (42.5) on the way back to the finish. I instantly caught eyes with Mile Long Legs, smiled and gave her the ‘thumbs-up, all-clear’ sign. I could tell she was relieved. As I had been running in and out of the shaded canyons all morning, the temperature hadn’t gone past mid-70s by my guess. But the moment I got into aid station #3, I knew what I was in for. It wasn’t even 9am and it was hot. Like REALLY hot. I filled one of my bottles with ice water and wrapped ice into my bandana around my neck and threw some cubes under my hat for good measure. Thank goodness I did.

…to wrecked. The heat sucked.

The climb out of AS#3 was brutal. Not just the shear climb (1400+ ft in 2.5 miles), but the amount of pure sun exposure. It was intense and the first moment of doubt I’d had yet since starting the race. I figured that if this was the beginning of the last 2/3rds of the race, I was doomed. Regardless, I continued to power on and just focus on getting to the next aid station at the top of the climb (which was also the 50k turnaround point). During this climb I started to see some of the fast 50k guys and gals rush down from their turnaround, including the one-and-only David! He was FLYING!

By the time I rolled into AS#4, I was fried. My body was feeling the heat and I needed to cool down immediately. Thankfully this aid station had ice, and lots of it. Pouring it down my back, arms and neck brought me back to reality almost immediately. I had planned on this aid station being my self check-in point for this race. If I was really feeling like shit, I would turn around and run the 50k. If I was feeling 50% or better, i was going through to AS#6 (the furthest point in the 50m course and the last point to pull out). Seeing as I was probably 80% all said and done, I pushed on.

The next section was just as exposed as the previous, but felt like I was on another planet. The trail ran across the top of the mountains, through sand and arid desert with spectacular views of the valley to the north. This was also the section I met up with Paul Akiyama. Paul was a talkative older gentleman that immediately told me he was the oldest guy running the race at 69 years old. I was immediately impressed by how bad-ass this guy was, flying his way through heat and high-desert altitude like it was nothing, not giving a fuck about his age. After a few miles leap-frogging back and forth with Paul, I knew one thing: I wanted to be this guy when I was 69. He’d run big ultras since ’93 including Leadville and the Grand Slam (Vermont 100, Leadville 100, Western States 100, Wasatch Front 100). One year, the dude ran eight 100 milers. EIGHT. And here I am just trying to push through a 50 miler. By the time we’d reached the next aid station, I had lost Paul a little ways back as he took a walk break. Rather than wait for him at the AS, I joked he’d catch back up and pass me at some point being the bad-ass runner he was.

Note: The stretch from AS#4 to AS#5 is also where I was passed by the to-be-winner of the men’s 50 mile race. Dude ran it in 5:53-and change. That’s a new course record. Unbelievably fast. I’m slow.

The liquid Buddha belly from AS#3

Let’s let this also be the moment where you can refill whatever delicious beverage you’ve been enjoying while skimming this short novel because I’m about to get personal. I hadn’t peed since mile 17. I was now approaching the 30 mile turnaround point and the only liquid I was able to squeeze out was dark brown and fear inducing. I was on top of my water, I was popping endurolytes and staying up with nutrition but nothing wanted to come out. Even looking back over some photos of me running through AS#3, it looks like I had a little Buddha belly – perhaps I was retaining all my liquid? Additionally, Mile Long Legs recently told me a story of a friend who was running an ultra in heat and had to be pulled out because one of his kidneys failed. Awesome. Were my KIDNEYS FAILING?! I had no idea, but I knew that I had to do whatever I could to make sure I fixed the problem IMMEDIATELY.

My course of action was to run from AS#5 to AS#6 taking in water only. No salt pills or solid food (other than what I had just consumed at AS#5). Smart decision? Probably not, especially at mile 24 of a 50 mile race. But I went with it. I left AS#5 pretty worried about the next few hours and what sort of challenges they would bring. Physically, I was pretty solid at this point (other than my KIDNEY DYING), mentally, I was getting fatigued from all the calculating and planning. Luckily from AS#5 to AS#6 I was able to turn it off  and enjoy the trails.

Beautiful PCT, just after being passed by race leader.

The steeply canted singletrack snaked in and out of rocky cliff-side canyons littered with tall pine trees, allowing the perfect amount of shade to cool us all off. The narrow trail had a few precarious spots, especially for passing the runners on their return trip to the turnaround. Just as I was approaching the steep and exposed fireroad of mile 27.5, I passed my friend Mandi (who had won the woman’s Ray Miller 50k) on her return trip. This was also her first 50miler and by the look of things, she was KILLING IT! Soon after, as I was heading down the daunting 2.5 mile fireroad towards what seemed like the pit of hell, I passed Billy on his way back up. While I was struggling, he looked fresh and new! Dude was rocking the climb back up. We yelled a few inspirational cheers to each other and got back to business. A half mile further down I passed a runner on his way back up who had recognized me as the Ginger Runner during the first mile. His name is Jawn and I feared he was the last person I would see before the turn around that I somewhat knew. He asked how I was holding up to which I replied immediately and ungracefully, “I’m peeing almost brown. I don’t know what’s up.” He looked a little shocked that I would be so forthcoming, but he swapped some quick advice back about hydrating immediately. I assured him I’d do my best and we departed almost as quickly as we had arrived. Aid station #6 was just ahead.

AS#6 saved my ass. As soon as I rolled in I was bombarded by attentive volunteers taking my bottles, my backpack, and my handkerchief to be refilled and re-iced. Then one of them ushered me to what I will lovingly refer to as the Magic Shower of Gold and Happy. It was a hose with ice cold water set up like a misting shower and provided INSTANT relief from the heat. As I stood under the mist for what felt like 20 minutes, I took in the sights around me. There were dozens of runners heaped in chairs and on the ground, just annihilated from the heat and exhaustion of the day. It was a pretty big mess of broken spirits. Over the next few hours, this would prove to be one of my biggest obstacles – trusting MY body, MY mind and not letting the psychology of those around me interfere.

After I had cooled my body considerably in the Magic Shower of Gold and Happy, grabbed a few boiled potatoes and potato chips, I started my trek back up the steep 2.5 mile fireroad to the Pacific Crest Trail. And guess who had caught up and joined me? Paul. Dude was a beast. We swapped some more stories and helped push each other on. He told me his goal was to finish sub-11 hours, but I refused to look at my watch to get a sense of where we were time-wise for fear I was going to be WAY off goal. I used Paul as my watch from here on out. If I could keep up or in front of him, I’d be solid for my silver goal of sub-11 (my gold goal was sub-10, silver goal was sub-11, and bronze goal was finishing). Trust the dude that has run more than 40 ultras to get you to the finish.

Mile 32. Longest I’ve ever run.

Before I knew it, I was feeling AWESOME and picking up the pace a little bit. Once back on the PCT, I felt comfortable with the familiar terrain and knew it was mostly downhill from here on out. Before I had reached AS#7, I glanced at my watch and noticed I had passed the 32 mile mark. I had officially run the furthest I’d ever run – and was STILL PUSHING! This is also where my hip flexor injury flared back up again. Between miles 33 and 35, I was a mess of stopping to stretch the injury and lightly running in serious pain. But once in and out of AS#7, I had forgotten about the pain and was determined to push on.

I forget a lot of what went on for the next 8 miles or so. I do remember stopping for long breaks at the aid stations, but never sitting down. I remember forcing my brain to be strong and not let the visuals of quitting runners get into my mind. They were everywhere. I remember getting ahead of Paul at some point and being excited that I might get my silver goal. I remember it being FUCKING HOT. I remember AS#8 volunteers warning me that the next two sections were going to destroy me. I remember thinking that just because I felt ok now, didn’t mean I’ll feel ok in 30 minutes. I remember wanting to quit. I remember my body being overtaken by pain. Then I remember finally peeing a shade of yellow. I cannot tell you what a relief and adrenaline-pumping moment this was. My whole game changed. No matter what, I was finishing this damn thing.

The mile 42.5 embrace.

As I rolled into AS#9 – the second to last aid station and the last time I’d see my crew – I caught eye of Mile Long Legs standing and waiting. I’m pretty sure I was a whimpering mess by the time we embraced. As I hobbled my way over to the food tables to ice up and refuel, I got details as to David and Billy – who apparently were both having awesome days. David with a top 10 finish in the 50k and Billy having just passed through this same aid station about an hour and a half earlier. It took some time to refill everything here because it was obvious this aid station was a mess. Not only were their drunk spectators, but each volunteer was dealing with 2-3 runners each. This aid station had become a make-shift quitting zone. Runners would continue on up into the final 8 hot exposed miles, overheat, cramp or hit an impossible wall, turn around, and hike back into this AS in hopes of getting medical treatment. It was a runner triage center. Props to the volunteers for pushing through what must have been a crazy day.

I dawdled. I took my time. I didn’t want to leave the comforts of familiar faces or cold ice. I didn’t want to venture up another mountain the way I was feeling. But I did. I reluctantly said my goodbyes and pushed out onto the last climb. The death march.

The final pep-talk.

Within moments of being back out on the trail, I was passed by no less than 5 runners all headed back to the aid station to DNF. They did not look good at all. I offered all of them assistance, but none of them took me up on it. Their faces are unforgettable. The mile-long stare, the spacey replies and zombie-like steps. I didn’t, I COULDN’T be one of these. I trudged on and passed many runners. I joined a group of 4-5 runners huddled around an older gentleman who had sat down on the trail from cramps. Everyone was trying to figure out what to do so I told them, “You go 1.5 miles ahead and there’s aid, you go 2 miles back and there’s aid. I can give you anything you need from my pack right now”. He shrugged it all off, was in good spirits, just absolutely spent. After hanging for a few minutes with everyone huddled around him, I decided to keep pushing. I only had 1.5 miles until the final aid station. So I ignored the pain, I ignored the nausea, I ignored my heart rate monitor which was now telling me my HR was jumping from 140 to 70 and back again, I ignored the desire to quit, I ignored everything except what was right in front of me and powered ahead.

Heading back out onto the singletrack

Before I knew it, I was emerging off the singletrack and onto a fireroad with the final aid station. I quickly went to refill all of my ice, only to find out that they were out of it. Not just out of ice, but out of almost EVERYTHING. Listen, I know I was taking forever to finish, I know you guys had been out here all day, but man, what’s a Ginger got to do to get some ice 3 miles from the finish? After high-fiving the last cheering volunteer, I had about 1 mile of uphill left, followed by 2 miles downhill.

I trudged on. It was slow going. I was alone. My body had no clue what was going on. I was hungry but full at the same time. I was exhausted but pumped. I was excited but lethargic. And in a blur, I started the final descent into Lake Hughes.

I barely remember finishing. I know I jumped over the finishline and high-fived the metal “finish” bar above, but that’s about it. I was instantly swarmed by friends and family who had all come out to support me on a grueling day in the high desert an hour outside of LA. Keira gently laid my finishers medal around my neck and I made my way to a picnic table to sit down. Billy was there, David was there, Eric was there, my mom and dad were there, my sister and brother-in-law were there with their dog, my buddy Andrew was there and my girlfriend, the rock that pushed me through the day, was there. As I sat down, surrounded by a flurry of cheers and congratulations, pats on the back and plates of food being shoved in front of me, I cried. Not just tears of joy, but full-on sobs of exhaustion. I honestly could not believe that after 11 hours and 9 minutes (missed my silver goal and qualifying for WS100 by THAT MUCH!) I was now sitting down and done running 50 miles. Every moment of pain and suffering that I had felt throughout the day was behind me. I was now a fucking Ultra Runner.

I did it. First 50 miler in the books!

POSTFACE

As I sat and thought about what I’d accomplished, it didn’t really sink in that I had ran 50 miles. I just felt like I suffered and endured for far too many hours in uncomfortable conditions and I couldn’t determine why. This was also the first race where immediately upon finishing I blurted out, “NEVER AGAIN” and really meant it. However, now some days later, that’s already changing. I remember this being a shitty hard day, but I also now realize the accomplishment and I want to feel it again. I want to know it wasn’t a fluke. I have two more 50 milers this year, and who knows, maybe something longer – but I’ll be honest, that just sounds RIDICULOUS.

Hey, remember Paul? Well, when I finished I was convinced I had passed him and he was still out on the course. False. It must have been around the 42.5 mile aid station that he passed me because I have come to learn that he did indeed finish sub-11hr, just like he planned the whole time. Bad ass mother fucker, that one. Lesson learned: Don’t just trust but always stick with the guy that has run 40 ultras in all conditions.

So, while the race part of my story might be over, the night surely was not. By the time I got home, I had a hard time getting out of the car. I have never felt hip flexor pain quite this severe. It was as if someone was taking a 6 inch blade and slowly pushing it in and out of my left hip flexor/groin area. Just excruciating  It got worse as the night went on, practically immobilizing me. Not only that, but when I steadied myself down into an ice bath, my body started shivering so uncontrollably, Mile Long Legs had to come and hold my hand to keep me settled and breathing. All my muscles started contracting and made it difficult to breathe properly. For the rest of the night my body was on fire, most likely due to severe heat stroke. I had to use ice packs and cold wash cloths to try and keep my body temp down. My body was in shock and there was nothing I could do but not panic and hope it got better. Needless to say I barely slept at all that night. By the next morning, my body felt a bit cooler, but the sunburn and blisters had started to make themselves apparent on my shoulders and back. No amount of sunscreen could keep that sun out apparently.

Traditional Post-race shower beer!

I was a mess. But I knew I would heal. Now one week later, my hip flexor has calmed down, my body has started to get back to normal, and I’ve even thrown down a couple of recovery runs. I also want to take this moment to thank each and every one of you. Your words of encouragement – even if we’ve never met – pushed me through to the end. Social media is a strange thing where I can share my experiences and love of this sport with all of you and you can share it right back. Seriously, this victory is one of many shared by all of us. Everyday I hear about someone running their first 5k, or losing 51lbs, or trying on their first pair of good running shoes. These are all victories and they all helped push me through to the finishline. If I could do this, imagine what YOU could do!

Leona Divide feels almost like a distant memory. Even as I was writing this blog, I felt like I was recalling an old experience riddled with details from years ago. But perhaps its just my mind’s way of coping with what I put it through. Maybe it wants me to never put it through anything like Leona again. Or maybe by making Leona seem distant, my mind is telling me it’s time to gear up and do it again. While I juggle the conundrum, I’ll continue to sit here and sip on my own black IPA as I try to relive one of the most difficult and rewarding days of my life. I trained, I raced, and now it’s time for celebration. Cheers!

The finishline with my awesome and supportive family. The best. 

Day before the 2013 Boston Marathon

So it’s been 1 week since the tragic events that took place at the finish line of one of the most prestigious marathons on the globe. While we’ve had some resolution, I still find it all difficult to swallow and seek appropriate answers. My heart and thoughts continue to go out to all those affected by this senseless act. I also acknowledge just how awesome the running community has been in the wake of this tragedy, coming together as we have in ways that continue to inspire. Well done.

As you may know, I was in Boston from April 11th through the 15th (Marathon Day) with my good friends at Newton Running. My job was to document some behind-the-scenes and race-weekend festivities in my video-log form in hopes of capturing some of that excitement that surrounds one of the biggest running stages in the world. I wanted to meet the runners running the race, I wanted to share the excitement with their families, I wanted to hear about the struggle and work that each runner went through to qualify for this elite event. As runners, we all know the Boston Marathon is a big deal. As a runner who sees qualifying for it as an almost impossible undertaking, I made it my goal to live vicariously through everyone I met. Little did I know that the weekend would change me in ways I never thought imaginable.

Many of you follow me across the social networks and many of you knew about the adventures I was to embark upon. You were there commenting when I would share some of the cool things that happened to me throughout the days; you would stay up late with me as I uploaded each daily video late into the morning; and you would share in my excitement and anticipation for the big day. It was like we were all sharing in the build-up of the race together, as a family of spectators looking down onto the world of those runners present. It was awesome.

As I posted each video each day, I tried to document as much of my activities as possible and determine what I could collect the following day. I knew Monday was going to be the grand-daddy video and couldn’t wait to document the goings-on. The morning started earlier than previous as Brandon (Newton Running’s Social Media Guru and my liason) and I grabbed our gear, tents, and made our way to mile 20 at the base of Heart Break Hill. We would have prime spots to gather footage of all the elites (just as the Elite men were passing the Elite women!) as well as all the other runners just before they embarked on what is infamously the most grueling section of the Boston Marathon Course.

The Boston Marathon Elite Runners

As I filmed and enjoyed the comraderie with my new-found Newton peeps, I knew I was going to have to snag a taxi and head to the airport ASAP to catch my flight home. I said my goodbyes to all as they continued to cheer and let loose (they had quite the crazy weekend of working one of the busiest booths at the Boston Marathon Expo – total pros). As my taxi headed quickly towards to the Boston Airport, I took the brief time to reflect on what was an awesome weekend that I not only got to share with those IN Boston, but everyone at home who shared in my experiences. It was an honest heartfelt moment of appreciation. I never would have thought this silly little blog would allow me to travel the country and contribute to the greater running community in such a new and innovative way with video and social media. I was stoked.

My flight had a layover in Dallas. This is when shit hit the fan. Upon taking off from Boston, I quickly fell asleep having lived off of no more than 4 hrs of sleep a night for 5 nights. I awoke to not only the plane hitting the tarmac, but my phone vibrating like crazy in my pocket. I thought I had set an alarm, but when I pulled the phone out, I saw that I was receiving hundreds of text messages at once. The very first thought that popped into my head – and trust me, I know how ridiculous and selfish it sounds – was that a commercial I had filmed aired on television and everyone was texting me to tell me they saw it. This thought quickly dashed out of my mind when the first text I opened read, “Are you still alive?? Just heard about the bombs in Boston”. My heart stopped. Everything shattered. The two diva teen girls sitting next to me watching some Hannah Montana garbage faded away as my world suddenly became so dark and focused as if I was suddenly wearing horse blinders. The only thing I could see, hear or touch were those words on my screen: ARE YOU STILL ALIVE.

Wading through the hundreds of texts, many from my immediate family who, as I read, had NO idea that I was on a plane and thought I was still in Boston, broke my heart. Many people thought I was running the marathon. Many I had not talked to in years. So many people wanting to know if I was alive. I had to focus on contacting the most important people first – I was literally triaging my contact list. I contacted my girlfriend who had since told all my immediate family I was OK, I made sure to contact my parents and siblings, and then it hit me. The Newton Running crew. They were still there, and most likely making their way to the finish line to greet their elite runner as he finished. I texted Brandon who quickly got back and verified they were all safe. Then it sunk in that I had met handfuls of awesome fans, friends, and new followers that were running. How in the world would I find out if they were all ok?? AND WHAT HAD ACTUALLY HAPPENED IN BOSTON??

See, all of this communication took place in the 20 minute window of my layover as I raced from one plane to the next. I had yet to know what actually happened at the finish line. Then I saw it. As I sat at my new terminal, I glanced up at a TV screen and saw the video being replayed on the screen. Tears. It was heartbreaking. I couldn’t keep it together. What if my flight was 1 hour later? What if I was running in this race? What if I was at the finish line like I was the night before? What if, what if, what if? All the questions came racing to my mind and sunk in. The fact that these bombs went off at the 4:09 mark of a marathon just broke me. The people who cross at this time (and trust me, I know) are some of the hardest working, most inspirational athletes I know. I just couldn’t believe it. And as soon as I was communicating with the outside world, I had to board my next flight and would be incomunicado for another 4 hrs.

A sign seen at mile 20. My new motto.

Needless to say, this was a long and exhausting day – for many people. By the time I landed in LA, I had been awake for 20 hours but was in no hurry to sleep. I still had so many people to follow up on and make sure everyone was safe. As news flooded in from those I knew in Boston, I knew I had to make a video. Those who had been following along all weekend with my videos had started commenting on each of them, wondering if I was ok. I wanted to not only make a video for them to let them know I was safe, and very fortunate, but to also make a video for those who were still suffering in Boston and for those members of the community I now call family. Now that it is a week later, the 2 bombing suspects have been identified, one captured, I think I am ready to share my experience all in one place. The following 5 videos document the weekend from Thursday April 11th to Monday April 15th, 2013. It’s eery to watch them and see all the smiling faces now knowing what that race had in store – particularly video 4. But I am lucky. I am lucky to have these memories from a distinct moment in history, not only for myself and the running community family, but for my country. Now when I run, I remember Boston. And I tell you what, I’ve never wanted to run the Boston Marathon more.

BOSTON MARATHON DAY 1

BOSTON MARATHON DAY 2

BOSTON MARATHON DAY 3

BOSTON MARATHON DAY 4

BOSTON MARATHON – THE FINAL DAY

BROOKS INFINITI III SHORTS

LIKED:

• Minimal/Light
• Storage
• Moisture Wicking

DISLIKED:

• Revealing
• Price

QUALITY: 4/5
COMFORT: 4/5
PRICE: 3/5
LOOKS: 4/5

TOTAL: 15/20

BROOKS NIGHTLIFE ESSENTIAL RUN JACKET

LIKED:

• Element Resistant
• Weather Proof Pocket
• Night Visibility

DISLIKED:

• Sizing
• Heavier
• Not Breathable
• Pocket Not Secure
• No Hood

QUALITY: 3/5
COMFORT: 4/5
PRICE: 3/5
LOOKS: 4/5

TOTAL: 14/20

BROOKS UTOPIA THERMAL 1/2 ZIP

LIKED:

• Comfortable
• Warm
• Thumbholes
• Back Pockets
• Looks

DISLIKED:

• Sizing
• No Hood
• Pockets Too Big/Low
• Zipper Garage

QUALITY: 4/5
COMFORT: 4/5
PRICE: 3/5
LOOKS: 4/5

TOTAL: 15/20

For more info on these items, visit: http://BrooksRunning.com and be sure to subscribe to my YouTube channel HERE.

The Newton Energy NR

Well, the announcement just came through my inbox and I have verified that it’s true, Newton has announced a new shoe to their line-up due July 17th. They are calling it the Newton Energy^NR. Well, I can say without a doubt that these excite me. I’m only going off of the small press shots that they’ve included, but the shoes have the 5 lugs I’m familiar with on the MV2 (and that I like), they also seem to split the lugs up a bit so parts lay just under the metatarsals as well as under the toe-tips. The midsole looks to be a flat section of outsole rubber which will hopefully aid in transitioning the stride into the lugs. Now, the press release refers to these shoes as a way to get the “Newton experience to a broader group of runners…”, meaning they may be more of a transition shoe rather than an outright Distance or Gravity replacer. I for one welcome the new shoe to the line-up and cannot wait to try a pair on.

They’re not as light as Newton’s other offerings (Energy NR is to ring in around 9oz), but they aren’t being marketed as their new racing flat. The heal to toe drop is 6mm (with EVA Sock Liner) and 3-4mm without. So it’s a bit more than a die-hard Newtonian would hope, but remember, this is a transition shoe for those joining the ranks. The midsole reminds me a bit of the new Pearl Izumi E-Motion line (which I like) so, again, can’t wait to peep these in person. I’m mixed on the color combos – the greyish midsole looks unexciting – but the yellow black and green ones are encouraging for us dudes. What are YOUR thoughts? Here’s the full PR story:

The Newton Energy NR Yellow

The Newton Energy NR Blue

The Newton Energy NR Purple

The Newton Energy NR Black

The Newton Energy NR Yellow

The Newton Energy NR Blue

The Newton Energy NR Purple

The Newton Energy NR Black

 

 

 

 

The Energy facilitates seamless transition from conventional shoes to the Newton experience.

APRIL 4, 2013—Newton Running, the leader in performance running shoes that actively support and strengthen natural running motion, is launching the Energy^NR, available at running-specialty retailers and NewtonRunning.com starting July 17. Designed to meet the needs of runners who want to experience the unique technology platform and ride found only in Newton running shoes, the $119 Energy^NR facilitates a seamless transition from more conventional running shoe brands into the Newton line.

“Our goal is always to look for ways to expand the Newton experience to a broader group of runners and the Energy^NR is an addition to our line that offers similar features and ride to all of our products but in a more conventional design package,” says Newton Running co-founder Danny Abshire. “Runners who are new to the brand as well as loyal Newtonites will truly enjoy the lightweight and responsive ride that theEnergy^NR offers.”

The Energy^NR includes a version of Newton’s Action/Reaction^TMtechnology in the forefoot. Originally offered in Newton’s MV² racing shoes, the more streamlined design employs five low-profile forefoot lugs to provide superior impact-zone cushioning and a smooth, stable ride. The lightweight, breathable mesh upper has a roomy toebox that provides ample room for toes to splay, while midfoot overlays ensure a secure fit.

The Energy^NR weighs just 9 oz for men and 7 oz for women. It is available in two colors for each men women and will be available at specialty retailers and www.newtonrunning.com starting July 17, 2013.

This pack is awesome. While it fits more like a vest (which I’m glad to see is the new general trend in hydration packs overall), the XA Skin Pro 10+3 pack has quite a few bells and whistles that take this pack to the next level. I’ve been playing around a lot with various hydration systems and so far, this one is my go-to for the long runs. I’ve managed to stick pants, a jacket, trekking poles, food, gloves, and various other items in this pack for recent summit hikes and I’ve consistently been surprised with how much it can hold tight.

It has plenty of storage, a 1.5l water bladder (by Hydrapak), plenty of flexible straps for a custom fit, and is durable beyond a trail runner’s needs. I’ve run races, long training days, summitted mountains, and raced through horribly inclement weather with nary a problem. While pricey, the Salomon XA Skin Pro 10+3 pack is an awesome long-haul hydration solution.

LIKED:

• Comfortable
• Storage
• Expandable
• Sternum Straps
• Light
• Insulated Bladder Sleeve
• Underarm Hydration

DISLIKED:

• Shoulder Adjustment
• More Pockets
• Hip Pockets
• Flappy Straps

QUALITY: 4/5
COMFORT: 4/5
PRICE: 3/5
LOOKS: 4/5

TOTAL: 15/20

This item was provided by Salomon Running for review. All opinions are my own. For more info on the item, visit: http://SalomonRunning.com and be sure to subscribe to my YouTube channel HERE.

GIVEAWAY WINNERS!

I held a fun giveaway for the Salomon Running Agile 7 hydration pack and asked you to submit your best photos of you in need of some serious hydration. I LOVED all the photos you submitted across the social networks and email, but I had to narrow it down! Below are the Grand Prize winner (they will receive the Agile 7 Hydration Pack), the Runner Up (they will receive a custom Ginger Runner tshirt) and the Honorable Mention (they will receive the biggest and most bad-ass virtual high five from myself and all who have ventured here!). Thanks again to ALL who entered. Stay tuned for many more giveaways!

GRAND PRIZE WINNER – JT Peebles

JT Peebles shows us what it takes to win (I even had to censor this one)!

Let’s be honest, to have the balls (pun intended) to send me a photo of yourself naked riding a bike across a mountain top deserves a win. Notice the folks ahead? They got far more “view” than they intended (pun intended). Got to give a guy credit for going the extra inch (pun intended, again).

RUNNER UP WINNER – Ethan Hodge

Gotta give Ethan credit for the creativity (and American short shorts)! Way to go, kid! #TrainRaceBacon

Love the creativity on this one, the confidence in showing so much pasty leg (trust me, I can relate) and the pride in his nation. Ethan Hodge, for your photo you will receive a brand new “Train. Race. Bacon.” tshirt!

HONORABLE MENTION – Clinton Munkres

Have you ever seen an athlete so sad??

Clinton, I had to post this photo. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone so sad that they were out of PBR. Nice touch with the “#TrainRaceBeer”!!

AGAIN, thank you to all who entered! Stay tuned for more great giveaways right here!

Guess what? I’m GOING TO THE 2013 BOSTON MARATHON! I honestly cannot believe it and am excited beyond belief. Here’s what’s up: Newton Running contacted me recently and proposed the idea of partnering up, travelling to the Boston Marathon, and creating cool video content for everyone to watch while we’re there. Wait, SAY WHA? They have been a fan of my videos for awhile (and I’m obviously a fan of their kicks) so they thought it would be a cool to bring along an “every runner” to document some behind the scenes action from one of the most prestigious marathon events on the planet. DUH, I said, “yes”.

So here’s what’s going to happen: On the Thursday before the Marathon (April 11th, 2013) I will leave LA and fly into Boston to meet up with my Newton cohorts. Over the next 5 days I will be creating videos, blogs, tweetin’ & instagramin’ like nobody’s business. I’m basically going as a total BM noob and trying to see/capture as much of the Boston Marathon spirit as possible. I will also be participating in a number of Newton sanctioned events and activities so stay tuned for that! Hell, I might even talk them into letting me GIVE SOME STUFF AWAY (no guarantees, but I’ll try)!! You’re going to want to follow me on all the social networks to get your chance to win! So that’s it for now. Be sure to subscribe to all my ish below and stay tuned for updates!!

Twitter: http://twitter.com/TheGingerRunner
Facebook: http://facebook.com/TheGingerRunner
YouTube: http://youtube.com/TheGingerRunner
Instagram: http://instagram.com/EthanNewberry
Website: http://GingerRunner.com

It’s no secret how much I love the Brooks PureGrit 1. Despite that shoe having a major traction flaw, I still consider it one of my favorite trails shoes – especially for the dry socal trails I run on. When the PureGrit 2 was released, I was stoked to learn they almost certainly addressed all of our traction concerns. Unfortunately, that’s not all Brooks changed.

A stiff outsole, a hefty upper made of thick and stiff materials, a new lacing/tongue system, and an overall heavier shoe does not an improvement make. Despite putting almost 70 test miles in this shoe, I cannot say that it won me over. In fact, I purchased another pair of Pure Grit 1s just to satisfy my trail needs. I hope Brooks sees this review and perhaps takes my problems into consideration when working on the Pure Grit 3. Hell, why not start using the hashtag, “#FixTheGrit” to see if they actually listen to us!?

Click to watch the review above and don’t forget to subscribe to my youtube channel! (CLICK HERE TO SUB)

LIKED:

• Same fit as Pure Grit
• New Traction

DISLIKED:

• Tongue/Lacing
• Upper thickness/stiffness
• Outsole stiffness
• Concave Outsole
• Heavier

QUALITY: 3/5
COMFORT: 2/5
PRICE: 3/5
LOOKS: 3/5

TOTAL: 11/20

For more info on this shoe, visit: Brooksrunning.com

This last weekend was packed with SO MUCH awesome! If you didn’t know, I’m currently in training for the Leona Divide 50 miler (my first 50 mile race, YIKES!), so I needed to pack on the mileage, push my legs through some serious pain, and most importantly, have fun in the process.

First, I got to run an unsanctioned marathon with my buddy Colin (@RunWicked) down in Palos Verdes. I Couldn’t ask for a more beautiful day! We originally had planned on 25 miles, but when you’re that close to a full marathon, we opted to just add that 1.2 miles by running around the parking lot a few times. Thank you Colin for an awesome long, slow distance in a gorgeous area. No way I could’ve figured out all those trails without ya!

The next morning I met back up with Colin as well as Billy (@LARunr), Josh (@SpectorJosh), Joe, Chris Price and others to summit Mount Baldy via Bear Canyon Trail. I’ve done this trail before and it’s BRUTAL. This is a 6+ mile trek that starts at around 4300ft, travels straight up 5800 feet to the summit. However, due to snow, ice and high winds, I was cautious and opted out of summitting less than .4miles from the top. I was SO CLOSE! While I’m bummed, I know I made the right decision for me. I was using microspikes for the first time and was just getting used to them and trusting them. No use in pushing my luck on the first try! Trust me, I’ll get back up there again very soon!

Finally, I finished off the weekend with a bunch of my YouTube friends (Jimmy Wong, Meghan Camarena, Joey Graceffa, David, Brittani Louise Taylor, and Alyssa Poppin) canyoneering down 6 waterfalls in the Angeles National Forest. A very special thanks to ATS & CanyoneeringLA for being so damn awesome and patient will all of us vloggin’ yahoos!

All in all, it was an amazing weekend that has left my quads weak and sore, my calves tight, and my heart warm. I got to share some roads and trails with good friends and even traverse a waterfall or two with new ones. I wanted to document some of it to hopefully inspire you to get outside and try something new and push yourself out of your comfort zone (safely!). The whole goal of all of this is to have fun, and I sure did nail that this weekend! Now remember, TRAIN HARD, RACE HARDER, PARTY HARDEST! It’s time for a beer…

FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER: @TheGingerRunner
LIKE ME ON FACEBOOK: TheGingerRunner
FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @EthanNewberry
SUBSCRIBE TO MY YOUTUBE: TheGingerRunner

First of all, this review is a little different than normal. StrideBox isn’t a product so much as it is a service that provides products. The idea – which has existed in other industries for awhile – is simple. The customer pays a monthly fee – in this case $15 – and is delivered a box of surprise goods each month. The question I wanted to determine was if the $15 box was worth the price and got you more bang for your buck. In short, yes. I valued the contents close to $20-22 OTC, so you do seem to get more for you dollar (not to mention the huge number of coupons and discount codes for ordering the included products online later which could save you countless dolla dolla bills).

What I like about StrideBox is the idea you will be surprised each month with a package (yay for fun deliveries!) of various running themed items. You won’t have any idea of what you’re getting until you open the box. You could get products you’ve used before and loved, hated or are indifferent to. You could also get new brands that you’ve never heard of and surprise you. Being familiar with other similar services, there is a high likelyhood that some months you’ll score some major loot – I even saw StrideBox tease at possibly including compression socks at some point!

Click to watch the review above and don’t forget to subscribe to my youtube channel! (CLICK HERE TO SUB)

The Stridebox was provided by the manufacturer for review.

Ray Miller 50k Course

How can one complain about a run when they were surrounded by a breathtaking ocean sunrise, rolling hills straight out of Jurassic Park, and brutal ascents followed by rollercoaster downhill singletrack. The Ray Miller 50/50 was a week ago, but the race was so beautiful, it’s been stamped in my brain (and my aching muscles) like it was this morning.

This was my second ultra (The North Face EC 50k was my first) and despite lacking similar inclement weather, was equally as difficult for me (if not more-so). This race takes place in one of my favorite ocean-side parks, Point Mugu, which I’ve run a number of times before, but nowhere near as far or as deep (tee hee, I said DEEP).  The course starts from the small parking lot just off the PCH, skyrockets up 1600 feet in the first 2 miles, snakes along the tops of mountains, dips down to valleys below, and provides an endless supply of amazing vistas, over 32 miles of nearly all singletrack and 6200ft of elevation.

PRE-RACE

I was nervous as shit going into this race. It had been 2 months since my previous Ultra adventure, I had only logged a single long 20+ mile run while home for Christmas, and was plagued by a month of poor mileage what with CES, Sundance, and various scheduling conflicts. Blah blah blah, moan moan moan. Regardless, as the race approached, I was anxious, sleepless, and lacked confidence. The night before, my roommate was courteous enough to play Halo 4 till the wee hours just outside my room, so relaxing and sleep were non-existent.

The Funnel

I was late to the startline. Yes, one of my biggest fears came true. With a race start of 6am, I wanted to find that balance of getting to the start early as well as getting as much rest as possible in my bed before departing. Before I knew it, It was 4:55am and the journey was over an hour away. I freaked, hopped in my car grabbing as much running gear as I could remember, and raced down the 101 (within the “speedlimit” for all you law enforcers reading), and managed to find parking with 10 minutes to spare. But I still had to check-in, situate, piss, strap on my pack, fill a water bottle, attach my bib, tie my shoes, comb my hair, put on mascara, do 4 shots of tequila, grow my beard, you know, the usual pre-race traditions.

As I simultaneously relieved myself and attached my bib in some nearby bushes, I faintly heard the RD, Keira Henninger, start to countdown the start. I quickly tucked my junk back into my shorts, pinned the last corner of my bib awkwardly (pet peeve), turned and ran across the line to start what would be a very tough day.

THE RACE

Point Mugu is an amazing location. Trails literally slice across mountains, along cliffs, and drop into lush forests. With these traits come amazing rewards in the form of views and punishments in the form of steep climbs. The first two miles of this race had both. Within the first quarter mile, all of the runners are forced into a funnel as we gallop up singletrack. I knew that wherever I was in the crowd would determine my preliminary race position for the next two miles as you climb 1600ft to the top of Mugu Peak via Mugu Peak Trail. Sure, you can pass peeps, but the trail isn’t very wide, it was dark and rocky, and this wasn’t the time to make enemies in order to move 10ft up in the peloton.

Point Mugu Sunrise

By the time we rounded the peak, I stopped to ogle the amazing sunrise over the sea. The crowds had spread out quite a bit by this point, so I continued on and tried my best to settle into a moderate/easy pace. It was just around the first aid station at Hell Hill (mile 6) that I assessed my legs and body as being “tired as all fuck”. I pretty much let the idea of my body being tired consume the rest of my race. So much so that around Hidden Pond Trail, I fell.

Luckily, the fall was minor. It was one of those, “Hey look, I’m runni…WHOOMP!” types of falls that you can’t predict, aren’t horribly drastic, but still shake you up. I quickly bounced up off the ground, glanced at my palms, brushed off my legs, gathered my ego and shouted I was OK to the runner just ahead who’d turned around to assess the damage. When I’ve fallen in the past, I get rattled, put all my focus into my stride and pick up my feet in hopes to avoid a second fall. Inevitably, it seems there’s always a second fall with me.

Sure enough, true to form, in less than a mile, just after a nice descent, I hit the dirt again, but much harder this time. To prevent a full crash, my left leg LUNGED forward to catch my body, slid on the loose rocks and badly strained my achilles before the rest of my body hit the dirt. This was just embarassing. Again, I popped up off the ground to brush myself off. But I took more time to walk off the pain I was feeling in the achilles. Weirdly enough, running slowly eased the pain and tension more than walking so I picked up the pace again.

I was so embarrassed this time around, the only thing I could do was make jokes about being a ‘noob’ and how the invisible bears were attacking my feet all morning. People around me laughed and made jokes of their own, but all my attention was poised on that achilles. Last thing I needed was a 12 hour walk of pain to get back to my car.

Ginger pain time

As the miles wore on, the achilles pain felt better and eventually subsided, but the rest of my body continued to put up a fight. There would be no PR today and I knew it. The reality was that this race was a mental challenge for me, a training run for the big league Leona Divide 50 miler in April. My only real goal was to finish, and finish strong. So I tucked my head down and powered on. Until I fell again. This time it was hilarious to me and I managed to catch myself, landed softly and loosely, and laughed it off quickly. In my recovery my quad managed to get stabbed by a cactus and was bleeding. I was a mess.

It wasn’t until I rolled into the aid station at mile 20 that things began to get better for me. Before I could even approach the tables of nomz, I heard someone call out my name. I knew there were a handful of fellow local runners that I follow on twitter running this race but I didn’t get a chance to meet any of them at the start line because of my stupid tardiness. Sure enough, through the punished bodies of runners grazing the potatoes and pretzles, came my buddy, Billy (@LARunr). I hadn’t met him in person, but we’ve tossed tweets back and forth. Turns out he had to pull out of the race due to some serious muscle crampage.

Honestly, seeing a familiar face and talking out some of the suffering we’d both endured definitely helped me to push on (thank you, Billy). It helped me grasp that I was not alone in my pain and that others – who are FAR stronger than me – were also feeling it. There were a number of DNFs that day, so I count my blessings that I was able to trudge on, however slow, to the finish.

Some amazing singletrack

With a renewed spirit, a handful of gummy bears, and some salt pills, I left Billy and the awesome volunteers behind. The trails were now familiar as we steadily climbed Boney Mountain (I ran the Boney Mountain half marathon a few weeks prior). I struck up a conversation with another equally paced runner, David, and found out he was also friends with Billy, and a whole crew of Ultra runners I look up to. We ran a few miles together, chatted about our first ultra, and kept each other’s spirits up as we slogged on. When I reached the 50 mile turn-off, I took a moment to gawk at the peaks in the distance and take in the scale of the task I’d be facing in 2 months. 19 more fucking miles. Ugh. Can’t even imagine.

It was at the last aid station (mile 25) that I finally had courage to push my pace and keep my heart rate up. Thanks to the amazing volunteers at this last aid stop for being equally attentive & funny. Ran out of there with a huge grin and the confidence that the finish-line was less than a 10k away. I screamed up Fireline trail (that hill was a BEAST) and let adrenaline take over as I approached the final descent into La Jolla Valley – one of the most beautiful 2 mile stretches of singletrack I’ve had the privilege of running.

I cross that damn finishline!

Before I knew it, I was rounding the last few turns into base camp and the finishline. My body was broke, my spirit was exhausted, and I really just needed some food and a beer (or 11). I crossed the line, got my medal, hugged my sister who’d waited hours for me to finish, and shared in the post-race festivities with some new trail running friends. Honestly, It’s these guys and gals that continue to inspire me and show me that it’s not always about the race we’re running, but about the company we keep when we do. They are a warm and welcoming crew I can only hope to continue to get to know.

In the end, as I soaked my legs in the ice cold ocean waves, I looked back at the day’s accomplishment. 32 miles run over some pretty damn rugged terrain on nary a wink of sleep, 3 falls, multiple cactus punctures, 6200+ ft of elevation change, while meeting some really awesome people who run farther and harder than myself. I’d say it was a pretty damn good day – until my legs started to phantom-run the course all over again that night while I slept. Stupid dicks.

Enjoying the trail camaraderie!

THE NEXT DAY

The next day was Superbowl Sunday. I had made plans to go to a fellow YouTuber’s house-party and celebrate with all my favorite ‘tubers/actors/producers and the like. While I was there, I was introduced to a girl whom was introduced as “a chick that likes running too!”  We got to talking and I asked if she’d run any local races. She mentioned that she just ran the Ray Miller 50k. My jaw dropped. I told her about my experience and we shared war wound stories (she’d also fallen multiple times and had the chest scars to prove it!). When I asked her how she did, she replied, “I won!”. It took me a second to ask her to clarify. “You won?” I asked confused. “Yeah! I was first female to finish! 1st place! AND it was my first ultra!”. I was astonished. Not only had I met a fellow ultrarunner at a random YouTuber party that had run the same race as me the day prior, but she won the damn thing. I b-lined for the fridge and proceeded to chug a few more beers. Mandi, I give you CRAZY props for decimating that brutal course. You are PURE BEAST and I can’t wait to see you dominate at Leona Divide 50m!

Ray Miller 50k Elevation Profile

LIKED: