Run Like the Wind 3 hour run race report 2012
This race was not on my macro cycle for this running season. I'd never even heard of this race. But then tripam won an entry through a trivia contest Trailhead Running held on facebook, and to make sure she wasn't lonely out there, she then made ME play the next round of their trivia game, which I won. So now I had a free entry into a race called Run Like the Wind, for either the 3 hour run or the 5k. Pam and I chose the 3 hour run.
Photo by Ed Sparks
This is different from your standard race, where you typically run a loop or an out and back that is the whole pre-determined distance of your race. Or maybe 2, possibly 3, loops. This race has, as mentioned, a 5k race, but then all the other races are time-based. You run a 1k loop, over and over and over and over, until the amount of time you signed up for has passed. The choices for this race were 3 hours, 6 hours, 12 hours, and 24 hours. Yes, you run the same 1k loop repeatedly until 24 hours has passed. The winner is the person who can complete the most loops before you hit the 24 hour mark. Or the 3, 6 or 12 hour mark, for the shorter races. I was pretty glad I hadn't won an entry into the 24 hour race, I gotta say.
And because insanity loves company, Betsy also decided to sign up and join us for the 3 hour race.
When I first won my entry, I had no goals. I wasn't even sure what goals one could formulate for such a race. Then when I had my DNF at Dirty Du, I decided, assuming I was healthy in time for RLtW, that I would just complete as many miles as I was capable of doing out there, to make up for the miles I didn't run last week, and to regain the confidence that had been shaken from the DNF.
Me, David, Betsy and Pam, who kept standing up on her tiptoes, cheating.
I carpooled with Pam and we formed a little community of chairs and bags under the Trailhead Running tent, with Susan and Leary, me, Pam, Betsy, David and Kenny. I had hoped to go out as a group and walk the 1k loop just to check it out before the race started, but the 5k and dog walk were still going on, and we got caught up in packet pickuping, silent auctioning and stuff preparing. And then it was time to start!
Hanging out with Leah, David and Betsy before the race
Photo by Susan
And man, this start was laaaaate. The 5k run/walk, dog walk and kids K all started earlier that morning, but the distance races, 3, 6, 12 and 24, all started together at the absurdly late hour of 10:30am. Normally in mid-December, you'd probably be glad to let the day warm up a little before you had to be out there. But this is Texas, and a roll of the dice determined that our day was not cold, but instead started in the mid 60s and warmed up to around 80. Which is pretty surprising, given that it was also Decker weekend. But Decker weather isn't necessarily always miserably cold/wet, it's always just SOME brand of miserable, and this year it was hot and humid. Mmm.
I'm a shy, retiring sort of girl; sorry you had to share the picture with me, Betsy.
Photo by Susan
So we lined up at the start line with our sleeveless shirts and shorts, ready to run endless 1k loops for some number of hours, depending on our levels of insanity. There were around 55 of us (note: I had no idea how many of us there were, but I just added up the people in the results just now to pretend like I had any idea), and there was no way of knowing who was doing what race (aside from, I guess, asking them), so you had no idea who your "competition" was.
The race clock was set to the time, and we counted up from 10:29:50 to 10:30:00, and then we were off! The first part just over the start/finish line was a little rocky and uneven, but fairly wide, so people were able to pass if they needed, and people started to fall into the right position. I started next to Pam, but we had discussed how we'd each run as we felt, and run our own race. Which was good, because after a few dodges and weaves to go around some people ahead of me, I looked and Pam was no longer right there.
The trail was really nice. It turned out the part at the start/finish line was really the most and only "technical" part of the loop, and it really wasn't, and you could pick a line that avoided most of it. The rest of the trail was mostly soft mulch, and very flat. There were a few rises and falls, but nothing that could be termed a hill. The first section was tree-covered, to a degree that every loop I would think, "it's too dark for my sunglasses," but then the rest of the loop was exposed, and I would appreciate the sunglasses, so I kept them on the whole time. There were a fair number of small sawed-off stumps, but each one was spraypainted bright orange for easier avoidance.
Mulchy trail. And Pam in red behind me! And a girl in really, really minimal sandals.
Photo by MV Productions Photography
I used the first loop to just assess the course. There was one tight turn that I didn't love on loop 1 (and would come to love less each time I went through), but I was excited that that turn takes you by a giant open field of agility equipment, empty then, but with the promise that maybe dogs might be out there later (and they were, which provided a welcome distraction).
One of the many tight turns. And Pam's still back there! I had no idea at the time.
Photo by MV Productions Photography
Before I knew it, I was done with 1 loop! No problem! That went by really quickly. And I set up for my second.
I counted each time I went over the start/finish line, diligently. At 5k I looked at my watch, because 5k is a distance I know, and saw 28:something, which seemed like a nice number. 6k, 7k, 8.. wait. Was that 7 or 8? Uhoh. I suddenly realized I had lost count, and really had no way to figure it out. I was wearing a Garmin, but with all the tree cover, who knows if it was at all accurate. So I decided that I didn't care, and never again knew how far I had gone or how many loops I had done. It was a bit liberating.
Having let go of distance and miles and pace, I just ran in a lot of circles. The only thing to which I was beholden was my eating schedule, eating a gu every 40 minutes, and taking a salt pill every 45. This gave me something tangible to look forward to, and not zone out completely.
When I took my second salt pill, I was half done! But it seemed like 1.5 hours was still a lot of time. And it was warm. And I was afraid I was running too hard for the amount of time I had left.
But the one really great feature of this race, especially as compared to the last few trail races I've done, is that you're pretty much NEVER alone out there. There were stretches at the Dirty Du where I wouldn't see another human for half an hour or more. It was rare here to go more than 1 minute without someone passing you or passing someone else, and everyone was so encouraging and friendly. It was just a great atmosphere. Especially when you'd learn that person you're passing is going to be out there running for 21 hours more after you've packed up and gone home. Amazing.
At some point I ended up coming up on Pam, who was running with David. It was the first time I had seen Pam since we started! It was kinda odd how that worked. There were some people who I seemed to pass many, many times. And some people who seemed to pass me every few minutes. And then there were people I KNEW were out there, but I ended up seeing once or twice total for the 3 hours I was running. I guess it's people who were running a similar pace to mine, but at the other end of the loop.
As I passed Pam and David, David started running with me, and I had company for the first time during my run. Problem being, David is faster than I am, and after a few times passing other folks and going around tight single-track corners, he ended up in the lead, running a little faster than I was comfortable running with over an hour still to go. So I reigned it back a bit, and he'd glance behind and see I'd slowed and slow down, then speed up again, and I'd naturally speed up to follow him, etc. So as nice as it was to have company, I was a little relieved when he peeled off at the aid station to get a drink. He caught up a little later and we finished out another loop together, but then he stopped at the tent to get something, and I was alone again.
I realized that I spend so much of my time staring at my feet, I wasn't sure, even after this many (however many that was) loops, that I actually knew what the course looked like. I would notice something out of the corner of my eye and realize I hadn't seen it before, even after 2 hours of running 1k loops. (I later mentioned the 2 green Adirondack chairs to Pam, and she didn't remember them, so it wasn't just me.)
I still hadn't stopped, and I had no plans to stop. I wasn't sure my water pack would get me through the full 3 hours, and I didn't want to stop and refill my pack for such a short remaining time, so I'd brought my handheld along to switch to that at the end if necessary. Except the next time I ran by the tent/start/finish line, I looked in my chair and realized I hadn't unpacked my handheld, and it was still in my backpack somewhere. So, yeah, obviously I could have stopped if I needed it and fished it out, but hey, Susan was right there cheering and dancing, so as I ran through the next time, I managed to cram a bunch of words in the few seconds I saw her without slowing down, "Hey, Susan, can you do me a big favor? There's a handheld in my black and white Ironman backpack, could you get it out and put it in the blue chair?" I managed to get all that out, and she had time to agree, before I was back out on my next loop. I felt a lot better knowing it was there if I needed it.
2 hours down. 1 to go.
I was tired. I was definitely slowing down, but trying to stay as strong as I could. An hour is a long time to try to run somewhat aggressively, especially on a trail. So I just tried to stay relaxed and comfortable and upright.
One of the next times I went through the start/finish line, I hallucinated up Pam's husband Jeff and their two dogs standing there. Then I saw Pam with them, and realized I wasn't hallucinating! I said hi to the dogs, then belatedly yelled back hi to Jeff, as well, as I ran off back into the woods. And THEN I hallucinated up Lynn and Ed Sparks! Except they really were there, as well, and Ed with his camera, forcing me to remember good form and to smile.
Photo by Ed Sparks
The fact that people were coming out drove home the fact that they were there to see the finish of the 3 hour race, which meant it was almost over. I was motivated to stay strong by the complete unknownness of my position in the field. As I mentioned, you have no idea who you're racing against, and who's doing what race, and if they ARE in your race, what loop they're on. There were 2 girls who were routinely blowing by me like I was standing still, lapping me repeatedly. If they were doing the 3 hour, the best I could do was 3rd female, and I had to assume they were doing the 3 hour based on how strong they were running. But there was no way to know. So I just did the best I could, but I was wearing down.
But not so much I couldn't throw some jazz hands, of course..
Photo by Ed Sparks
Racing for time is a really odd concept when you're used to racing for distance. It doesn't matter how fast you run, you don't get to stop any sooner for it.
This was right after smiling happily for the camera, where I wrinkled my brow and said, "3 hours is a long time!"
Photo by Ed Sparks
Around the 2:40 mark, I realized I .. had no idea how this thing was going to end. What happens at 3 hours? And more importantly, what happens NEAR 3 hours? As I went by another runner, I said, "So.. what happens on the last lap?!" He didn't understand my question at first, and I sorta tried to clarify, "When do you stop running..?" and he understood and said you only get credit for laps you've completed before the time ends. So if you finish a lap at 2:59, there's no point in going out for another, because you can't complete another in 1 minute, so you won't get credit for it. I felt better finally knowing the answer to that question I really should have asked BEFORE the race started.
Except I had zero clue how long these 1k loops were taking me, and I hadn't checked my watch when I'd started this loop, so I would need to actually pay attention to the next loop's time and get an idea. When I started the next loop, I saw my watch said 2:49. Okay. Remember that, brain. You've been running in mindless circles for hours now, surely you can retain that for a few minutes.
I knew this might be my last loop, so I tried to run it as aggressively as I could. Well, as aggressively as I could without hurting myself. So far I hadn't fallen at all, and I'd only had two minor ankle turns, neither of which had caused me any pain after the initial turn. No sense in ruining all of that in the last few minutes. But I definitely pushed, and people told me I looked strong.
Before I knew it, I was coming out of the woods toward the start/finish line. I actually ended up there right in the vicinity of Betsy and David, which was fun. As I crossed, I slowed down to look at my watch and assess. 2:55:30. A few seconds of contemplation, and I realized I was done. That last aggressive loop had taken me 6 minutes (pretty sure that's a significant slow-down from my first dozen loops), and I only had 4.5 minutes left, and I couldn't see how I could finish another loop in that unless I just went into an all-out sprint.
Not entirely sure what's going on here, but here we all are near the finish line!
Photo by Ed Sparks
Stopped my watch, and with no fan-fare, suddenly I was done! Betsy and I discouraged David from going out for a last loop, trying to bring Logic and Math into the picture. I drank a cup of Gatorade, which was completely delicious, and the first thing I'd taken from the aid station all day.
One of the absolute best parts of a race in this format is that all of us 3 hour folks, me, Betsy, David, Pam, Leah, Leary.. we were all done at (roughly) the same time. Or within 5 minutes of each other, anyway. No feeling bad because people are waiting for you to finish, just all done and time to snack and compare notes!
Pam and I went off to stretch a bit on yoga mats, then wandered back over to have some of the finisher food (yum, grilled cheese sandwich strips) and sit and cheer for the people still running. OUR race was done, but some of those folks still had another TWENTY-ONE HOURS OF RUNNING to do. Insane.
After a while, Pam went to get more food, and then returned saying.. I was first! I realized I hadn't looked around at the end for those two crazily-speedy girls, and hadn't noticed if they'd still been doing loops. Evidently they still were, because I was listed on the results computer as the first female finish for the 3 hour race, and Pam was second! Whee!!!
We eagerly went over to verify, and sure enough, my 30 loops (!), 18.6 miles, was good enough to get me first female finisher. Of course, our overwhelming joy was tempered slightly when we discovered that this race ONLY does top 3 finisher's overall, not male and female. Hrmph. I still did well overall, though, coming in 6th out of 30 people (1st out of 14 women). So I'm thrilled!
And to make me feel better, my wonderful husband fashioned me a unique trophy.
Best. Trophy. Ever.
I'm pretty darn positive this is the only race I've ever "won", and I harbor no illusions about the why, but I'm gonna just embrace it!
This was a race I might never have been drawn to on my own, so I'm really glad that I won that entry and tried it out. I'm not sure if I'll ever do a longer distance (that's a lie, of course, if you know me, I'm sure it won't be long until I stupidly sign up for the 24 hour), but I'll definitely come back and do the 3 hour or the 5k, or both! And bring dogs next time.
Me, Pam, Betsy, David and Mark (I love this picture)
Photo by Ed Sparks
Photo by Ed Sparks
This is different from your standard race, where you typically run a loop or an out and back that is the whole pre-determined distance of your race. Or maybe 2, possibly 3, loops. This race has, as mentioned, a 5k race, but then all the other races are time-based. You run a 1k loop, over and over and over and over, until the amount of time you signed up for has passed. The choices for this race were 3 hours, 6 hours, 12 hours, and 24 hours. Yes, you run the same 1k loop repeatedly until 24 hours has passed. The winner is the person who can complete the most loops before you hit the 24 hour mark. Or the 3, 6 or 12 hour mark, for the shorter races. I was pretty glad I hadn't won an entry into the 24 hour race, I gotta say.
And because insanity loves company, Betsy also decided to sign up and join us for the 3 hour race.
When I first won my entry, I had no goals. I wasn't even sure what goals one could formulate for such a race. Then when I had my DNF at Dirty Du, I decided, assuming I was healthy in time for RLtW, that I would just complete as many miles as I was capable of doing out there, to make up for the miles I didn't run last week, and to regain the confidence that had been shaken from the DNF.
Me, David, Betsy and Pam, who kept standing up on her tiptoes, cheating.
I carpooled with Pam and we formed a little community of chairs and bags under the Trailhead Running tent, with Susan and Leary, me, Pam, Betsy, David and Kenny. I had hoped to go out as a group and walk the 1k loop just to check it out before the race started, but the 5k and dog walk were still going on, and we got caught up in packet pickuping, silent auctioning and stuff preparing. And then it was time to start!
Hanging out with Leah, David and Betsy before the race
Photo by Susan
And man, this start was laaaaate. The 5k run/walk, dog walk and kids K all started earlier that morning, but the distance races, 3, 6, 12 and 24, all started together at the absurdly late hour of 10:30am. Normally in mid-December, you'd probably be glad to let the day warm up a little before you had to be out there. But this is Texas, and a roll of the dice determined that our day was not cold, but instead started in the mid 60s and warmed up to around 80. Which is pretty surprising, given that it was also Decker weekend. But Decker weather isn't necessarily always miserably cold/wet, it's always just SOME brand of miserable, and this year it was hot and humid. Mmm.
I'm a shy, retiring sort of girl; sorry you had to share the picture with me, Betsy.
Photo by Susan
So we lined up at the start line with our sleeveless shirts and shorts, ready to run endless 1k loops for some number of hours, depending on our levels of insanity. There were around 55 of us (note: I had no idea how many of us there were, but I just added up the people in the results just now to pretend like I had any idea), and there was no way of knowing who was doing what race (aside from, I guess, asking them), so you had no idea who your "competition" was.
The race clock was set to the time, and we counted up from 10:29:50 to 10:30:00, and then we were off! The first part just over the start/finish line was a little rocky and uneven, but fairly wide, so people were able to pass if they needed, and people started to fall into the right position. I started next to Pam, but we had discussed how we'd each run as we felt, and run our own race. Which was good, because after a few dodges and weaves to go around some people ahead of me, I looked and Pam was no longer right there.
The trail was really nice. It turned out the part at the start/finish line was really the most and only "technical" part of the loop, and it really wasn't, and you could pick a line that avoided most of it. The rest of the trail was mostly soft mulch, and very flat. There were a few rises and falls, but nothing that could be termed a hill. The first section was tree-covered, to a degree that every loop I would think, "it's too dark for my sunglasses," but then the rest of the loop was exposed, and I would appreciate the sunglasses, so I kept them on the whole time. There were a fair number of small sawed-off stumps, but each one was spraypainted bright orange for easier avoidance.
Mulchy trail. And Pam in red behind me! And a girl in really, really minimal sandals.
Photo by MV Productions Photography
I used the first loop to just assess the course. There was one tight turn that I didn't love on loop 1 (and would come to love less each time I went through), but I was excited that that turn takes you by a giant open field of agility equipment, empty then, but with the promise that maybe dogs might be out there later (and they were, which provided a welcome distraction).
One of the many tight turns. And Pam's still back there! I had no idea at the time.
Photo by MV Productions Photography
Before I knew it, I was done with 1 loop! No problem! That went by really quickly. And I set up for my second.
I counted each time I went over the start/finish line, diligently. At 5k I looked at my watch, because 5k is a distance I know, and saw 28:something, which seemed like a nice number. 6k, 7k, 8.. wait. Was that 7 or 8? Uhoh. I suddenly realized I had lost count, and really had no way to figure it out. I was wearing a Garmin, but with all the tree cover, who knows if it was at all accurate. So I decided that I didn't care, and never again knew how far I had gone or how many loops I had done. It was a bit liberating.
Having let go of distance and miles and pace, I just ran in a lot of circles. The only thing to which I was beholden was my eating schedule, eating a gu every 40 minutes, and taking a salt pill every 45. This gave me something tangible to look forward to, and not zone out completely.
When I took my second salt pill, I was half done! But it seemed like 1.5 hours was still a lot of time. And it was warm. And I was afraid I was running too hard for the amount of time I had left.
But the one really great feature of this race, especially as compared to the last few trail races I've done, is that you're pretty much NEVER alone out there. There were stretches at the Dirty Du where I wouldn't see another human for half an hour or more. It was rare here to go more than 1 minute without someone passing you or passing someone else, and everyone was so encouraging and friendly. It was just a great atmosphere. Especially when you'd learn that person you're passing is going to be out there running for 21 hours more after you've packed up and gone home. Amazing.
At some point I ended up coming up on Pam, who was running with David. It was the first time I had seen Pam since we started! It was kinda odd how that worked. There were some people who I seemed to pass many, many times. And some people who seemed to pass me every few minutes. And then there were people I KNEW were out there, but I ended up seeing once or twice total for the 3 hours I was running. I guess it's people who were running a similar pace to mine, but at the other end of the loop.
As I passed Pam and David, David started running with me, and I had company for the first time during my run. Problem being, David is faster than I am, and after a few times passing other folks and going around tight single-track corners, he ended up in the lead, running a little faster than I was comfortable running with over an hour still to go. So I reigned it back a bit, and he'd glance behind and see I'd slowed and slow down, then speed up again, and I'd naturally speed up to follow him, etc. So as nice as it was to have company, I was a little relieved when he peeled off at the aid station to get a drink. He caught up a little later and we finished out another loop together, but then he stopped at the tent to get something, and I was alone again.
I realized that I spend so much of my time staring at my feet, I wasn't sure, even after this many (however many that was) loops, that I actually knew what the course looked like. I would notice something out of the corner of my eye and realize I hadn't seen it before, even after 2 hours of running 1k loops. (I later mentioned the 2 green Adirondack chairs to Pam, and she didn't remember them, so it wasn't just me.)
I still hadn't stopped, and I had no plans to stop. I wasn't sure my water pack would get me through the full 3 hours, and I didn't want to stop and refill my pack for such a short remaining time, so I'd brought my handheld along to switch to that at the end if necessary. Except the next time I ran by the tent/start/finish line, I looked in my chair and realized I hadn't unpacked my handheld, and it was still in my backpack somewhere. So, yeah, obviously I could have stopped if I needed it and fished it out, but hey, Susan was right there cheering and dancing, so as I ran through the next time, I managed to cram a bunch of words in the few seconds I saw her without slowing down, "Hey, Susan, can you do me a big favor? There's a handheld in my black and white Ironman backpack, could you get it out and put it in the blue chair?" I managed to get all that out, and she had time to agree, before I was back out on my next loop. I felt a lot better knowing it was there if I needed it.
2 hours down. 1 to go.
I was tired. I was definitely slowing down, but trying to stay as strong as I could. An hour is a long time to try to run somewhat aggressively, especially on a trail. So I just tried to stay relaxed and comfortable and upright.
One of the next times I went through the start/finish line, I hallucinated up Pam's husband Jeff and their two dogs standing there. Then I saw Pam with them, and realized I wasn't hallucinating! I said hi to the dogs, then belatedly yelled back hi to Jeff, as well, as I ran off back into the woods. And THEN I hallucinated up Lynn and Ed Sparks! Except they really were there, as well, and Ed with his camera, forcing me to remember good form and to smile.
Photo by Ed Sparks
The fact that people were coming out drove home the fact that they were there to see the finish of the 3 hour race, which meant it was almost over. I was motivated to stay strong by the complete unknownness of my position in the field. As I mentioned, you have no idea who you're racing against, and who's doing what race, and if they ARE in your race, what loop they're on. There were 2 girls who were routinely blowing by me like I was standing still, lapping me repeatedly. If they were doing the 3 hour, the best I could do was 3rd female, and I had to assume they were doing the 3 hour based on how strong they were running. But there was no way to know. So I just did the best I could, but I was wearing down.
But not so much I couldn't throw some jazz hands, of course..
Photo by Ed Sparks
Racing for time is a really odd concept when you're used to racing for distance. It doesn't matter how fast you run, you don't get to stop any sooner for it.
This was right after smiling happily for the camera, where I wrinkled my brow and said, "3 hours is a long time!"
Photo by Ed Sparks
Around the 2:40 mark, I realized I .. had no idea how this thing was going to end. What happens at 3 hours? And more importantly, what happens NEAR 3 hours? As I went by another runner, I said, "So.. what happens on the last lap?!" He didn't understand my question at first, and I sorta tried to clarify, "When do you stop running..?" and he understood and said you only get credit for laps you've completed before the time ends. So if you finish a lap at 2:59, there's no point in going out for another, because you can't complete another in 1 minute, so you won't get credit for it. I felt better finally knowing the answer to that question I really should have asked BEFORE the race started.
Except I had zero clue how long these 1k loops were taking me, and I hadn't checked my watch when I'd started this loop, so I would need to actually pay attention to the next loop's time and get an idea. When I started the next loop, I saw my watch said 2:49. Okay. Remember that, brain. You've been running in mindless circles for hours now, surely you can retain that for a few minutes.
I knew this might be my last loop, so I tried to run it as aggressively as I could. Well, as aggressively as I could without hurting myself. So far I hadn't fallen at all, and I'd only had two minor ankle turns, neither of which had caused me any pain after the initial turn. No sense in ruining all of that in the last few minutes. But I definitely pushed, and people told me I looked strong.
Before I knew it, I was coming out of the woods toward the start/finish line. I actually ended up there right in the vicinity of Betsy and David, which was fun. As I crossed, I slowed down to look at my watch and assess. 2:55:30. A few seconds of contemplation, and I realized I was done. That last aggressive loop had taken me 6 minutes (pretty sure that's a significant slow-down from my first dozen loops), and I only had 4.5 minutes left, and I couldn't see how I could finish another loop in that unless I just went into an all-out sprint.
Not entirely sure what's going on here, but here we all are near the finish line!
Photo by Ed Sparks
Stopped my watch, and with no fan-fare, suddenly I was done! Betsy and I discouraged David from going out for a last loop, trying to bring Logic and Math into the picture. I drank a cup of Gatorade, which was completely delicious, and the first thing I'd taken from the aid station all day.
One of the absolute best parts of a race in this format is that all of us 3 hour folks, me, Betsy, David, Pam, Leah, Leary.. we were all done at (roughly) the same time. Or within 5 minutes of each other, anyway. No feeling bad because people are waiting for you to finish, just all done and time to snack and compare notes!
Pam and I went off to stretch a bit on yoga mats, then wandered back over to have some of the finisher food (yum, grilled cheese sandwich strips) and sit and cheer for the people still running. OUR race was done, but some of those folks still had another TWENTY-ONE HOURS OF RUNNING to do. Insane.
After a while, Pam went to get more food, and then returned saying.. I was first! I realized I hadn't looked around at the end for those two crazily-speedy girls, and hadn't noticed if they'd still been doing loops. Evidently they still were, because I was listed on the results computer as the first female finish for the 3 hour race, and Pam was second! Whee!!!
We eagerly went over to verify, and sure enough, my 30 loops (!), 18.6 miles, was good enough to get me first female finisher. Of course, our overwhelming joy was tempered slightly when we discovered that this race ONLY does top 3 finisher's overall, not male and female. Hrmph. I still did well overall, though, coming in 6th out of 30 people (1st out of 14 women). So I'm thrilled!
And to make me feel better, my wonderful husband fashioned me a unique trophy.
Best. Trophy. Ever.
I'm pretty darn positive this is the only race I've ever "won", and I harbor no illusions about the why, but I'm gonna just embrace it!
This was a race I might never have been drawn to on my own, so I'm really glad that I won that entry and tried it out. I'm not sure if I'll ever do a longer distance (that's a lie, of course, if you know me, I'm sure it won't be long until I stupidly sign up for the 24 hour), but I'll definitely come back and do the 3 hour or the 5k, or both! And bring dogs next time.
Me, Pam, Betsy, David and Mark (I love this picture)
Photo by Ed Sparks