A year of recovery and it's my father who's pushed me back into the saddle again. I traveled home from Mississippi to spend the summer with my family before starting a dual MBA/MHSA (Health Services Administration) at University of Michigan and within the first few days my dad asked, "so when are you going to finish your run across Utah? You might as well just get it over with. You may not ever have a chance like this again". That's all it took for me to realize he was right and spend the next six weeks training to run the last 101 miles in three days.
That's right, three days. Some of you know that I had originally planned to do the entire run in 12 days, which would mean I would have 4 more days, but the thought of running 25+ miles for 4 consecutive days sounded much less appealing than 33+ miles for three. If there's any strategy I've consistently adopted in my life, it's that of trying to get painful things done as soon as and in as little time as possible. That's why I always eat my broccoli before cutting into my steak.
Day 9
Surprisingly, even though I spent much less time training this go around, I felt almost equally as strong. My legs have held up well in the off season.
Have you ever felt like you're running through Mordor? Neither had I, until this morning. I was coming around the West side of Tooele and off in the distance I could see the mountains ablaze. The air was filled with smoke, and being just after 4:00 am, it was still pitch black outside. Funny enough, the entire day felt like I was running the same course as Frodo and Samwise, only away from Mordor rather than towards. Luckily, the first ten miles went by quickly, and after refilling my water, pounding some gatorade, and grabbing a few more energy gels, I was feeling strong.
After exiting the smoke, fire, and darkness, I found myself running on a deserted road that cut through miles of water and weeds that had been created by the Great Salt Lake. This felt a little like running through the dead marshes. Honestly, I think I might have preferred dead people trying to pull me in over the man eating flies. They were so thick that I was breathing them in. The more I ran, the more flies gathered around me landing on my legs, arms, neck, and face, all taking a big painful bite. At points I would try to sprint with the hopes of outrunning them, but as soon as I slowed back down they would catch back up and recommence their attack. Talk about a miserable 7 miles.
To make matters worse, the sun began to really beat down and three miles ahead of the 20 mile marker, I was out of water and starting to get thirsty (not good). At mile 20 I performed my normal routine of eating a sandwich, drinking 20 oz of Gatorade, and stretching. I even laid down on the road for at few minutes which felt heavenly.
The remaining 13 miles were difficult. Much of it was off-road, and once I crossed over to the north side of I-80, I was running through sage brush and sand for miles. Needless to say, I was happy to be done once I reached the 33 mile marker where I stopped for the day.
I don't normally wear a tank top, partly because my arms are super white, but also because the sun would scorch my shoulders. You'll see I'm wearing a different shirt later on in the day.
I wore this tank top in honor of Miriam Allred. She was a huge driver in getting the Mississippi River Marathon started and without ever meeting me, she sent me this shirt in the mail. What an amazing woman.
This was off in the distance while I ran.
Reaching mile 10 in the dark...can you see me? Mile 10 is where I changed into a sleeved shirt.
I don't have any pictures of the water where the flies were at, but in this shot you can see a dried up bed that used to be filled with water which looks similar to the fly infested wetlands I passed through.
Laying down for a rest at mile 20
Running through the desert
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