Well, that race was... CRAZY! It was everything that I seek from running an ultra; difficult, varied, beautiful, beyond challenging, pushed me way past limits I thought I had, taught me lessons I can apply beyond the ultra realm and so much more!
I signed up for this race because 1) it had really pretty pictures and the course looked beautiful, 2) I thought a second year race in Montana would be pretty cool, and 3) with 23,000 feet of climbing this race scared me and I didn't know if I would be able to finish. I run ultras for lots of reasons but a big one is to truly push myself, to go past what I think I can do and keep taking one more step learning I am capable of more than I think I am.
Man did this race deliver! The first 20 miles I considered the "buy in". I was crewed by my amazing partner Sarah, this was her first time crewing me and she did a FABULOUS job. I got to see her the first time at IBEX aid station at 19.4 miles. I refiled, ate a little bit, got some ice and headed out. The 23 miles between IBEX aid station and Halfmoon aid station at mile 43 where I was planning to gear up for the night was, ummm, challenging. It was also incredibly beautiful, probably the most beautiful stretch of any race I have run so far. The first of four BIG climbs definitely got my attention and I tried not to think about the fact I had 3 more big climbs to go! After a solid descent where I picked up a little time as I typically do on downhills, I got to Cow Camp aid station, where the volunteers bring everything in for the aid station by hiking 8 miles and bringing supplies in on mules. Now that is some serious volunteering! They were super nice and a lot of fun! The next big climb was up to Conical peak. While climbing weather rolled in and we all got pelted for a good 20 to 30 minutes with some decent sized hail. That was the smaller concern however as thunder roared and lightening cut up the sky. I wasn't thrilled that I was at a very exposed section of the course but knew it would pass so kept climbing and it eventually did.
I rolled into Halfmoon aid station about 30 minutes ahead of my projected arrival. I spent a little more time at this aid station than the others, changing socks, shoes, shirt, eating some food and getting supplies like my trusted Kagala light for the night coming up. Sarah was at this aid station and it was encouraging to see her and helpful to have me get everything sorted! I left as soon as everything was done and began the longest climb of the course, back up to Conical Peak. As darkness settled and the climb continued I started to have my first real doubts about my ability to finish this race. My climbing slowed, my legs were a bit angry at me. I just kept plugging away and reached the summit and headed down the back side, very glad to have conquered that monstrous climb. I arrived back at Cow Camp aid station where I asked them to kick me out after 3 minutes of refilling and refueling. I knew the next section would be my last big climb along with what the race director had warned us was a very very very technical descent. While making that last climb I was fairly certain I saw an alien, I got closer and closer and then the alien turned into a plant, I thought "well, that does make more sense", and moved on. After moving painfully slow up that final big climb I began the descent which was marked by a friendly sign that stated "WARNING: DO NOT RUN THIS SECTION!" That was no joke. With loose scree mixed with sand on a very steep descent with a steep drop off into darkness on one side I wasn't the only one that took about 45 minutes per mile for that section. Doing it the dark was an added bonus lol.
I knew I had lost a lost a lot of time in that section. My watch had died after the first 30 miles and I wasn't really focused on pace, just doing the very best that I could. When I came into Sunlight aid station at mile 63 I was informed I was a mere 17 minutes ahead of the cutoff. This was not exactly encouraging. My legs felt completely shot and the thought of chasing cutoffs for the next 37, yes, 37 miles, in this depleted state, was, well, overwhelming. So I decided not to think about the next 37 miles. I asked how long it was to the next aid station and when the cutoff was for that aid station. Volunteers here was also incredibly helpful and helped me dump some extra stuff I had into my drop bag to lessen the weight I was carrying. Since sun was pretty much up at this point I wouldn't need my night gear such as my Kagala lamp and extra batteries. Freed of this extra weight I decided to put one foot in front of the other, push myself hard to make the next cutoff, mile 70 at Crandall aid station where I would see Sarah again. I felt like I was sprinting. I was not. But I did keep a very steady pace and made it into Crandall aid station 10 minutes before the cutoff for that aid station. I felt like a NASCAR coming in for a pit stop as volunteers refilled my bottles and Sarah helped me get a new shirt on and got trash out of my pack while I was walking away from the aid station. I said to her "I'm not sure how I'm going to go 30 miles, my legs are completely toast". She told me basically that I couldn't think about that, it was about getting to the next aid station and that I WAS going to finish. Excellent crewing.
I arrived at Forest Hill aid station at mile 78.3 at 10:05 AM, 10 minutes before the 10:15 AM cutoff. There was 1,300 feet of climbing in those 8 miles and I struggled to figure out to climb with my quads no longer functioning. Aid station volunteers again were so helpful and got me what I needed in 2 minutes, as I was getting ready to leave I asked my now typical "how far to the next aid station? how much climbing? what is the cutoff". When they told me there was 2,600 feet of climbing in the next 7.1 miles I was quite despondent and asked "are you sure?" With the massive climbs earlier in the race in my pre-race blissful ignorance I didn't really take note of those "smaller" climbs later in the race. Again, I had no idea how I could complete that type of climbing with the current state of my legs but I headed out quickly. The next aid station at mile 85.4 didn't have a cutoff so the final cutoff I would have to beat (except the finish line cutoff of course!) would be Huntin Camp aid station (yes, I spelled that correctly...) at mile 92.8 which was 4:30 PM. So I had 6 hours and 15 minutes for the next two sections. I knew the first 7.1 miles after Forest Hill was pretty much all climbing and I decided to try and complete that in around 3 hours 30 minutes. Leaving me 2 hours 15 minutes to complete the next 7.4 miles before mile 92.7 which I thought was very reasonable considering it looked like a gentle downhill on the race profile. I got to aid station at mile 85.4 and was told it was "rolling terrain" for first 4 miles then the final 3 into the final aid station would be more downhill. This was not good news at all.
This section is where I truly went way beyond what I would have imagined myself capable of. I pushed on uphills, I pushed on downhills, I pushed myself on flats, oh wait, there wasn't ANY flat on this course lol. I just keep thinking "think positive, just keep moving, you are doing such a great job Erin" and similar type positive thoughts to keep me moving one step at a time. I thought about pushing through at Moab 240 race last October, when I thought I keep take another step but I just keep moving forward. I knew that I need to arrive at the final aid station, Huntin Camp, by close to 4PM if I hoped to reach the finish line by the final cutoff of 6PM. I managed to turn a 100 mile, 36 hour race into a nail bitter as I came into Huntin Camp around 4:05 PM, much to Sarah's relief as she later told me she had the same thought process. I had managed to break one of my hiking poles about a mile from that aid station, snapping it in half, in the process potentially saving my ankle so worth it, but still, was too bad I didn't have an extra pole with me. Volunteers and Sarah got me in and out of that final aid station in about 2 minutes. There was one final small, this one was truly small, climb right out of the aid station and then a gentle downhill along roads to the finish, 7.2 miles away. At the time I thought it was 7 miles and as Sarah walked up the last little hill with mile she told me I had 7.2 miles to the finish, I looked at her with probably the saddest face ever and said "It's not 7 miles to the finish?" Poor Sarah. I told her later she did the right thing though because in this case I needed to know exactly how far I had left given how close the timing would be to make the finish line by 6PM.
At this point I could hike at about a 15 minute pace if I pushed it, and run at about a 13 minute mile, 12:30 if I really put everything into it. I knew if I could hike half and run half I would have a very good shot at finishing under the final cutoff. This part was tough. The road was, well, pretty boring compared to the rest of the course, the sun was blazing at this point, my feet were sore, my one pole wasn't helping much and I had to fight away the thought "what if you come all this way and don't make the finish line by 6PM?". Just as I had for the last 37 miles I just put one foot in front of the other and DID NOT GIVE UP. With about a mile left I could see where the finish line would be at. I saw one other runner just in front of me and I was catching up with him quickly. We had a short but friendly talk where we laughed about who wanted to be DFL (Dead "freaking" Last). Neither one of us cared at all we just wanted to finish before the cutoff. He said since I was moving faster than him at this point I should go ahead of him so I did. Once I was within a tenth of a mile to go I could hear the crowd at the finish line cheering. This is a unique feeling. Often at Ultras with people finishing hours apart there are a few people clapping at the finish line. I guess that's the bonus of finishing a race near to the final cutoff, everyone is there to cheer you in!
I crossed the finish line of the Crazy Mountain 100 in 35 hours, 37 minutes and 12 seconds, just over 20 minutes ahead of the 6PM cutoff. I crossed the finish line and promptly collapsed. My body was done. I had given very last drop of energy I had to complete this race and it was DONE. As I lay on the ground (picture below) the race director asked if I wanted my belt buckle, I laughed with delight as she gave me a beautifully ornate BIG belt buckle signifying the culmination of almost 36 hours of just putting one foot in front of the other. I hugged Sarah and told her I never needed to run another 100 mile race again (a tradition for me after taking on any epic race). She laughed and said she'd give me a few days before taking me seriously on that front.
Before I started running Ultras I gave up when things got hard. A job got hard, a relationship got hard, quitting a bad habit got hard, whatever it was if it got truly hard, I quit. Running ultras and this race in particular have taught me the true power of giving your absolute best, and then giving me, even when you think you have NOTHING left. Just. Don't. Quit.
Special thanks to the amazing Race Director, Megan, the truly wonderful volunteers, the other runners in this insane race and mostly to my beautiful partner Sarah, for being crew "rookie of the year" as she helped me cross the finish line of a race I should not have been able to cross. Thank you to all you wonderful people!
Pictures and a few videos from the race are below. No pictures from last 37 miles as I was quite focused on not wasting a single valuable second. Race photos came out yesterday so happy to be able to include those as they got some great shots.
