Skyline to the Sea - Part II, wherein the second verse was better than the first

Note that, again, many of the photos were taken by Paul Rodman (thanks, Paul!) and you can read his race report here:  50 is the new 30
Gazos loop to Gazos aid station (second time, 20.3 miles)

I began the extra loop the 50k runners have, it’s hilly and tiring after coming 15 miles, but I didn’t mind. Let's pause and consider that for the nearly the whole 31 miles I was emotionally upbeat and mentally strong. I never wavered in thinking I could go the distance, only in if I could make the cutoff. While I walked these hills, however, I felt the first signs of needing nutrition: I was increasingly irritable and unable to finish a complete thought (just like usual, I know. Shut. Up).  I was listening to This American Life and I would vacillate between thinking it was fascinating and then....what the heck is that sound in my ear...oh yea, the podcast, hey this is interesting. I took out a 270 calorie bonk bar and ate the whole thing. I followed it up with goo and some water and by the time the trail headed back down, I was running again and feeling much better. I took the time to set my alarm for every 45 minutes to remind myself to refuel as I still had a long ways to go. 

Gazos to the Sea (11 more miles to go)

I headed out for the last stretch before the race end. This was virgin territory for me as I had never run it before and I was slightly surprised to find a longish climb out of the park. Whatever. I passed some hikers who tried to convince me I was on the wrong path, spotted a pink ribbon and shouted back to them "see, here’s the ribbon, I’m ok." Yeah, they loved that I'm sure. It was gorgeous and I was delighted to have passed the hikers. I continued to make forward progress and came to the top of the hill to find my lighthouse administering to his friend’s blisters. We encouraged each other and I headed out in front of him for the first time all day. 

 As I continued down the hill I suddenly realized that the bump in my waistband from my running gloves was smaller, because I had lost one glove. Ack. I love those gloves, so much that I actually turned around and went back uphill for a bit. That is unheard of for me. Still, no glove. Darn.

This part of the race was a scenic, long, downhill. My legs hurt, but not terribly. I contemplated how after awhile downhill wasn’t actually  preferable to uphill anymore. I passed a group of young women hiking up the trail and heard them saying as I continued “Can you imagine running all day?” “NO!” “You’d have to be…..” one voice trailed off and another finished her sentence “crazy.” Listening, I smiled and felt my spirit lifted again. 

And so the miles passed. My lighthouse caught up with me and handed me my lost glove. “Oh, you are my running angel today. I am so happy to have this glove back and to have had you to follow on this course that if we ended the race in someplace that was both Las Vegas and Utah, I’d marry you. We need Vegas for the run in Elvis wedding and Utah because I am already married.” “In our stinky running gear?” he asked, naturally concerned about our attire in this scenario.

Kiinda like this, but different.

“Heck no, I replied, in our matching race shirts.” “Of course, he countered, and then we could start a reality TV show called Brother, Husbands.”  We riffed on this awhile, thoroughly enjoying our silliness, until he scampered off out of sight.

I crossed a stream with half a bridge. Then I came to what looked like gutters spanning the creek. "Seriously? this is TOO MUCH," I yelled to my lighthouse who had made it to the other side (really too bad I never exchanged names with him. A hypothetical marriage proposal, yes, names, no. I'm quirky that way.).

Eventually, the sweeper caught up with me. “I can’t run in front of you,” he warned. “Well then, I replied, you better slow down, ‘cause this is the speed I’m running.” I laughed giddily, but in truth I didn’t really want the company: I kinda had to pee, I had a shadow that I couldn't shake and I was used to running by myself by now. So, you can see how he kinda put a wrinkle in my plans.

I  don't know why everyone told me there would be sun here.

Finally, I saw a white tee shirt in the distance. "Oh I think that’s my husband," I told my shadow. What a relief. When I finally saw Mike, he looked so fresh and happy that it warmed my heart. The endorphins must have really been kicking in because I remember this whole section of the run as being bathed in feelings of gratitude, good humor, and flattering light.

In front of us I could see my lighthouse; he turned and waved as we brought in the last mile or two of the course. I told Mike how I had followed him the whole 31 miles and Mike of course, being a good pacer, and a very good racer, encouraged me to try and catch up. I laughed and laughed. Even now at the very end of my adventure I was surprisingly euphoric.

Just thinking about how happy I was made me even happier. Seriously. It was a veritable love fest for me right then. No tears, no begging to walk, no toenails popping off, no swearing I’d never do it again. I may not be fast, but clearly I can endure with a smile; maybe that’s my special talent.

Finally, there was the finish line, with Ivette clapping for me. I was delighted to be there.