Grindstone 100 2018

Grindstone 100 is the 4th race in the Virginia Beast Series, a series consisting of three 50K races (February, March, and April), Grindstone (October), Mountain Masochist 50-Mile (November), and Hellgate 100K (December). As happy as I was to complete the first three, I went through the summer months somewhat irritated that I hadn’t met my “A” goal in a couple of them. Going into Grindstone, my goals were:

A: Finish in under 24 hours and PR (my previous 100 mile finish at Pinhoti two years ago was 23:36)

B: 24-26 hour finish

C: Finish well without jeopardizing my ability to continue in the Beast Series

Come race day, I reevaluated my goals. Yes, on RACE DAY. I mean, what was I thinking? Sub-24? On such a difficult course? I’m insane.

A: Finish in around 25-26 hours and don’t do anything to screw it up.

Ken, Jackson, my friend Terry, and I left for Camp Shenandoah early Friday morning and arrived around 12PM. It was fun getting to see and talk to friends from our area who were also there to toe the line. I had nice conversations with race director Clark Zealand and David Horton, and both were super encouraging about the hours ahead. I kept their kind words in my back pocket for future use.

I felt very well rested come race time, and very well prepared. I had my pack ready almost a week ago with everything I would need to start the race, minus water and Tailwind. I slept quite a bit on the way to VA as well, so all that was left to do was show up at the start line. For this 100, I kept things very simple for my crew since I would just be backtracking the course. Sounds easy, right? Well, I had no idea that I wouldn’t see them as often as I had hoped. More on that, later.

Shiny, Happy People

After some well wishes to and from friends and fellow runners, and a quick prayer from Clark Zealand, we all set off for the start of Grindstone. Donning headlamps and chatting, it was nice to just settle in and relax. Before I knew it, I was rolling through the first aid station.

Part of what makes the following section to AS 2 a little frustrating is that the distance is almost 9.5 miles. That’s a relatively long way between aid stations. By the time I reached Dry Branch Gap, I was 3:06 into the race and empty of fluids. We had already done one very long climb to Reddish Knob, a descent, and my right knee and right hip were already beginning to show signs of, “What the heck is happening here?” Still, I was around a good group of people and I was also enjoying these first hours of running in the dark.

Mile 22 is where I would finally get to see Ken, Terry and Jackson. I arrived ahead of schedule by at least 15 minutes, but that was to be expected with all the excitement. I decided that I would take things a little easier over the next stretch and work on keeping my heart rate down. Ken gave me the rundown as to where I stood. I was 5th female and determined to stay in that position a while. I didn’t need to try to prove anything by moving up, and I didn’t think I could at the time, anyway. I grabbed some HUMA gels, Tailwind, and water.

The next AS would be crew-less, but I would get to see a couple ladies who I greatly admire and respect. Annie and Becca gave me great advice going into the next section, and assessing my place and the time it took me to get to there (6:26), I could afford to heed their suggestions. I really looked forward to getting here ever since Annie mentioned to me on Facebook the week prior that she’d be there for the race. After refilling, I went on my way pumped and excited to continue.

No News Is Good News

7:42 into the race, and about 45 minutes early, I arrived at North River Gap AS. This would be the last time to see Ken and Jackson until the return. I made a big mistake here and didn’t grab as much as I should have. I got my water bottles from Ken, but only grabbed two gels! I wouldn’t see Terry until the turn-around in about 14.5 miles, so that was way too little to thrive on. Having established a pretty rigid regimen for fueling, this really wasn’t a good thing. Jackson handed me my iPhone and TrekzAir. Even though I never listen to music while running, I figured I would let the music keep me company in the event that I had to run alone for a long time.

Ken- “Take your poles. The ladies who just left took their poles. This is a rough climb.”

Me- “Nope.”

It turns out that my lack of poles wasn’t my problem. The climb to Little Bald Knob was difficult, but not as hard to handle as the news I was about to receive.

Terry- “Hey Shannon. I have bad news. We won’t see you at the turnaround. We’re stuck at a washed out road and won’t get to you in time. Oh yeah, and the shocks went out on the Pilot.”

Me- crickets.

I couldn’t calculate the mileage at the time, but when I got the chance to do so, I found that it totaled to around 28 miles without seeing my crew. Within that time, I had planned on changing out of my muddy socks and shoes. I had also hoped to pick up my pacer and redeem myself of not grabbing all the nutrition I was supposed to have in tow. Oh, and I didn’t prepare a drop bag for the turnaround. Time to rally, girl. Take your first caffeine after two weeks without, get over it and move on.

The Promise of a New Day

Apparently the phone call was enough to get me hustle, because it was shortly thereafter that I passed the ladies in front of me and moved into 1st place. I had stayed behind Justyna for a little while, thinking about how great her pace was. She was so strong, and watching her shoes was a distraction I needed as I contemplated my strategy. I eventually passed her and decided that since my body was feeling good on that section, I just needed to get to Little Bald Knob AS and reassess things when I arrived there. When I got there, I did something I never really do, and ate real food. I picked up pb&j’s, a grilled cheese square, and two Payday bars. I was pleasantly surprised at how well my body responded!

Here’s a little backstory on me: I’m Hispanic, and spent much of my childhood traveling and spending weeks at a time in S. America. We’ve lived in C. America. I’ve drunk the water everywhere and eaten all the food. I’ve never gotten sick off mountain stream water. Yet, all this time, I’ve been afraid to eat aid station food for fear of how it might affect me. I have a stomach of steel. I’ve been foolish.

Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, I’ll continue by saying that I ran with a cup of ginger ale for the next mile. It was helping the food go down so I held on to it for as long as I could, ha! This wasn’t easy, though, since I had been running through the fog with my headlamp in my hand to shine down on the ground. It was so hard to see, and I was basically running blind! All this time in the dark, I was determined to try and run over the rocks and everywhere else just as I normally would in the daylight. I knew I was taking some big chances at falling and spraining an ankle. I got a big surprise as I was fumbling with my headlamp and stashing my ginger ale cup in a pocket—a mini Fenix rechargeable flashlight! I totally forgot that I dropped it in one of my pack pockets, and it was exactly what I needed in order to FINALLY see well.

Another surprise to me was all the road running we would do. I was actually happy to run on the roads. It felt nice and easy to do so. After the uneventful turnaround in 11:16 (remember: no pacer, no drop bag), I gave myself a quick “here goes nothing” pep talk. I would see daylight very soon. I would begin to see all the runners headed toward the half way point and hopefully give them encouragement along the way.

“Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?”

It was along the road back to Little Bald Knob that I began to feel a strange burn on my upper right thigh. It continued to get worse, so I lifted up the side of my shorts to find a 4” long red “burn.” In my right shorts pocket were busted up endurolyte capsules, probably as a result of all the moisture/sweat. I could afford to pour my water on it since I would be at the AS soon, so I did that and then tried my best to forget about this craziness. I was moving at a decent clip and couldn’t let this stop me.

I caught up and fell in step with a few runners after Little Bald Knob part deux, and ran much too fast on the descent into North River Gap 2. It was during this time that I was told by two different runners that I was on pace for the female course record.

Guy- “You’re flying. You need to find out what the course record is when you arrive at the aid station.”

Me- “But that’s not my goal! There’s so much race left! I really don’t want to mess up my chances of completing the Beast Series!”

From here on out, the thoughts of winning and setting the female record would occupy my headspace. I should have been thinking about finding NRG2, though, because I somehow missed it. I went past the turn, kept going, ran across the pink streamer indicating I should not be there, and went down the road to NRG.

Guy- “Which direction did you just come from?”

Me- “The road! Oh no! I went too far and never turned in!”

Alexis Thomas- “Shannon. Go back. Get on the trail and come back the right way.”

The girl knows her stuff and I trust her, so I quickly (albeit a little emotionally) turned around and did as she said. There was my crew waiting for me at the CORRECT aid station entrance. I didn’t know how much time I lost with my mistake, so I grabbed gels, refills, and left in a hurry with my pacer and mentally prepared myself for the climb to Lookout 2 and Hankey Mtn.

About four miles in this section, my mind was so laser focused on going up up up and running wherever I could, that I went ahead of Terry enough to not need a pacer anymore. I am so thankful for her. As bad as I felt for dropping a pacer, I knew that I needed to in order to stay on pace for what I knew I could do. At Lookout AS, I refilled and said quick hellos to Annie, Becca and Bob, and let them know that Terry would be arriving soon.

The descent to Dowells 2 provided yet another bit of drama to my already way-too-interesting day. I began to feel something strange, yet familiar, happening. My nose began to unleash a seemingly never-ending stream of blood while I was running. I kept telling myself that it wasn’t the first time, just get out your water and rinse. Then, out of nowhere came my trail angels.

Trail angel- “Are you ok?” Here, I have wet wipes!”

Me- “Thank you, am I getting closer?”

Trail angel- “Um, yes, but you’re going to need some more of these.”

What sort of Twilight Zone have I entered? Just get to Dowells, Shannon.

As I arrive at Dowells 2, Jackson was holding a sign that read “Saturday Night Fever!” Ken, Dr. Horton, Frank Gonzales, and a few others were throwing a party. Horton approached me and proceeded to wipe my nose and face of its remaining blood. Then, we had a quick dance party to “All I Do Is Win,” even though it was obviously way too early to be celebrating.

As I climbed up Crawford, I realized that I never paid attention to where I was mileage-wise. I could not think back to the mileage chart and what each of the aid stations’ distances were. Oh well. I had to be far enough in to trust that I could finally run with abandon, so that’s what I did. I ran into Dry Branch Gap ready to see my crew again, and Sophie Speidel was there as well. I was so tired.

Sophie- “You have about 13 miles left!” Great job, Shannon!”

Me- So tired. Getting emotional. “No. That’s too many miles!”

Ken- “Second female is over 25 minutes behind. 6th male is right up ahead! Go!”

What really kept me going at this point was the promise of some crazy downhill running in the near future. I needed to feel my legs turnover. So up, up, up I went on another climb, then down the crazy descent on the way to Falls Hollow where I caught up with Mike Cooper. He was not amused when I said, “Alright Mike Cooper (looking at his bib), let’s finish this thing.” He got away from me pretty fast.

Not too long after the leaving FH, a couple on the trail informed me that my son, Jackson, was waiting up ahead. I waited all day for this.

J- “I just ran five miles mom! Are you ready? C’mom mom!”

Me- Groan…want to walk…can’t run up…another freakin uphill.

J- “Mom! Dad said not to let you slow down! You’re on course record pace!”

I rounded the lake on what felt like the longest ¼ mile in ultra and finished my second 100 mile race.

Finish Time: 22:22:40

1st ½: 11:16

2nd ½: 11:24

Thank you, Ken, for not only loving me through all this, but for letting me know that behind every, “She’s crazy,” there’s respect and admiration. I love you so much.

My boys are still in the, “Why does mom do this?” stage of my ultra career. I’m sure it must be hard seeing mom look and feel torn and tattered after her long runs.

Clark Zealand, thank you for another great race. Terrapin was where it all started for me. I’m so privileged to have gotten to do a Grindstone, too.

David Horton, thank you for your constant encouragement. To God be the glory.