Running Lost Soul Ultra is slowly becoming a great habit.
I’ve run the race now three times successfully (meaning I finished). You may remember last year I hurt my knee and I inked my first DNF. When I think back to it now, I feel very foolish over my silly tears. This year there were some tears but it had nothing to do with twisted ankles or knees.
Disclaimer: The following may be TMI for those who do not identify as a woman.
Bib pick up
Straight from work, I headed on the highway to Lethbridge. Late Friday afternoon I picked up my race kit at Runner’s Soul. Race pick up is always a fun way to kick off the race because generally where everyone knows your name and the volunteers greet you with a smile and some chit chat. Lori always has a smile on her face and it was wonderful to see after trying to calm my road rage on the Deerfoot earlier in the afternoon.
Race morning
I slept surprisingly well despite getting my period on Friday afternoon. Right before I started on Hwy 2, I began to get massive cramps in my belly and lower back. It was not a fun ride into Lethbridge. As soon as I picked up my kit, I grabbed some grub and headed to bed.
I missed the pre-race meeting because I was slow to get moving. I also nearly missed the start because I didn’t really pay attention to the change in race start. I knew something was up when I noticed I was the only one at the start. I had to ask someone where the starting line was. Oops. Just before the race started, I saw Ed and Deb from Red Deer. It was great to see some familiar faces. They are both crazy strong runners so I knew I wouldn’t see them again until after the race.
Forgive me if I don’t remember everything, it’s been a few weeks since the race. I may get legs mixed up. Really it’s all just a blur to me now.
The first leg is about 7K starting straight down paved road into the coulees. I learned from past years to store my poles. You don’t really need them until about the third leg if at all. I finished around 50 minutes, which was expected. In fact, I was four minutes faster than my 2016 time.
It was on Leg 2 or 3 when I began to have trouble. (Seriously my memory is foggy.) My cramps had returned with a vengeance. I hate to say it but I cursed being a woman that morning.
One distinct memory still stands out – I decided to just sit down on a single track in the middle of a climb. Thinking about it now, I realize I must have looked like a lunatic. I’m thankful to the lady from Chestermere gave me some chewable ginger and Christina and Monique who gave me Gravol. It seemed to do the trick and I was able to move on. At this time I think at least 15 people passed me while I was “taking a moment.”
The whole time a voice in my head was saying Just drop at the next aid station. Then another voice in my head would interrupt say Buck up. Female athletes must deal with this all the time. So what you have your period. Deal with it.
Sigh so I dealt with it and moved on to the next aid station. I saw Bill K from Red Deer, who once again, asked me what the hell am I doing hanging out at the aid station and literally pushed me out on the trail.
My cramps subsided over the hours but came back intermittently as dull, throbbing pains in my uterus. At one point, I couldn’t wear my hydration pack because the cramps were radiating into my lower back. It was the weirdest thing. I’ve never had that happen before. I’ve heard women’s periods get worse as they age so this could be the “getting worse” bit.
I was thankful to all the runners who offered and gave me drugs on the trail. I do not advocate drug use because I prefer natural remedies. But that day, I was like give me all the drugs. I am particularly thankful to the man who passed me on this hill (see above photo) then turned around to see me sitting and came down the hill to give me some Advil or something. I swear it got me through to the finish line.
By now I had been seeing the same people at the aid stations. Two people – Mai and Al – were awesome company. Mai and I pushed each other (and we shared seaweed at the final aid stations) even though we were both hurting for different reasons. On the final hill to the finish, I needed another “moment.” Mai was trekking up the hill and Al was behind me. Al said he would not pass me and would not move until I got off my butt. (Yes I was sitting down on the final climb of the race within 400 metres or so of the finishline.)
His tough words worked because I got moving and crossed the finish line. Initially I was disappointed that I didn’t set a PR on the course. (That was my goal) I knew it wasn’t my day when the cramps first started to strike. For me the real test was not giving up. It could have been easy to say I’m done but really where would the lesson be in that?
It wasn’t pretty but I finished.
Next year is the 20th anniversary of Lost Soul Ultra. I am looking forward to coming back stronger than ever!
I like to read this type of travel story. This is also interesting. Keep sharing. Thanks.