Signed up for 32, only made 24.

Not a hot day, but couldn’t keep up on my hydration and suffered from muscle cramps and soreness.

Started out with the pack of 50k’ers and quickly found myself as the last one.

All of these things seem negative, yet it was a perfect day!

The Goat Hill course is one that i’ve done before, back in 2016.  I know the terrain, the winding trails that will confuse your sense of direction, and the solitude I would find. This race features some of the best volunteers, people who are genuinely concerned for your well being.

The day started out well, a little chilly, but the sun was due to make an appearance and warm up the earth.

While on the trail a part of my concentration focused on where I was stepping, while another part checked in with what was aching and why.  The rest of my brain let go of extraneous thoughts.  I ran in silence during these times, listened to my breath, to the sounds of nature, and the occasional runner that passed me.  The world around me faded away, and I barely noticed the trail in front of me.  This is my perfect state of running, and of being, and it’s something I try to find in every moment.

I’ve only experienced this one other time, at Infinitus back in May last year (2017). The moment was fleeting then—maybe just a few seconds long.  I never thought I would find it again, or that the time would be much longer.

Everything went well until the start of my 3rd loop.  Dehydration was catching up with me.  I thought my intake of water and tailwind were sufficient, but I was wrong.  Muscles were cramping, and the smallest incline was difficult.  Upon reaching the mid-way aid station, I did a water refill, and ate—had a pickle and some PB&J quarters.

Setting out again, I headed into Reload (trail name) with a combination of running and walking.  I drank water constantly, but my efforts were in vain.  At times I would think by hydration was back to normal, but a few minutes of running crashed those gains.  About 15 min before finishing I heard a familiar voice behind me, my friend Ann who was also running this race.  That put a smile on my face, but no more “oomph,” in my stride.  Coming into the finish area, I chatted with Alex, the RD, and told him I’d be dropping at 24 miles.  I was fine with that decision. I could have run the extra 8 miles, but that may have led to injury, which I wasn’t willing to do with other races on the horizon.

The start of the 50k.