GOATz 50K Race Recap

 I signed up for the GOATz 50K back in April, I think, on the day that my friend Carrie M. organized a forty-mile run as preparation for an upcoming 100-mile race she was training for.  I was in the midst of training for Grandma's Marathon at the time; I had fourteen or fifteen miles on the training schedule that day, I think, but wound up running seventeen, and signed up on the adrenaline of the day's run and the buzz of a few post-run beers.  In June, I ran a marathon PR at Grandma's and was a little dismayed to realize that training for GOATz needed to start pretty much immediately.  I took three days completely off from running and a full week off from any training plan, then went back to it.  As the fall race calendar started filling up with the Harvest Moon Hustle 10K and the Monument Half-Marathon in September, then the Market to Market relay and the Garmin Kansas City Half-Marathon in the weeks immediately leading up to GOATz, I started to wonder if I had bitten off more than I could chew.

This feeling came to a head at the GOATz preview run the weekend before Market to Market.  I already had one twenty-miler under my belt during this training cycle, but I had run it on pavement during my friend Karri's brewery run.  This time, I did two loops of the GOATz course (the 50K would be three loops) and was hit with how hard it was going to be and how long it was going to take.  Two loops (twenty-one miles) took me something like 4:35, which was slower than my most recent marathon time.  "I thought this would be okay since I've already run marathons, but those were all on flat roads!," I told my friends.  "This is on hilly trail!"  A couple of them chimed in to point out that you don't run a trail race as fast and that you hike up the hills.  "That makes it even worse!," I said.  "I'll be out there for like seven hours!" I was told that wasn't a bad time for a first 50K; I was like, "But I don't WANT to run for seven hours!"  I knew the GOATz course was a loop of 10.5 miles, and that there would also be 10.5 and 21 mile races going on at the same time.  If literally any one of my friends had been like, "Well, you know, you can always drop down to the 21," I would have been like "OKAY! YES! I'll do that!" None of them did.  

Market to Market came and went.  Garmin Kansas City came and went.  Next thing I knew, there was nothing to do but run a 50K.  The morning of the race, Jimmy Brown of Runner Church gave a short message where he quoted a Bible verse about finishing the race, and said something along the lines of, "You did not just sign up for this race to sign up, and you did not come here to just run part of the race.  You came here to finish the race, and unless you get sick or hurt, you will finish."  I looked at my friend Julia, who was also running her first 50K but was much more excited about it. I wish I could say that that's the moment where I was like "YES!," but I was still really nervous.

The race started, and everyone, except for the 50 milers, who had started at 3 a.m. (!!!) took off together.  A few of us had planned to run at least the first loop together, so during the first few miles I was mainly focused on staying with the group while everyone in the race was trying to settle into their paces.  Eventually, people spread out a little bit, and it started to feel a little more relaxed.  I had told myself I would eat something, whether the Skratch chews I had brought along or something from an aid station, every four miles, so I had six Skratch chews four miles in, then some peanut butter pretzels at the Runner Church aid station at mile eight.  The start/finish aid station at mile 10.5 marked the end of the first loop.  I used the Port-a-Potty, ate a few more pretzels, Amber refilled my water bottle for me, and then we were off again.  At that point, our group spread out a bit.  Karri was planning on pacing me for the whole thing, so she stuck with me; Anna and Julia went on ahead for awhile, then we caught them, then Julia took off at our next stop at the Runner Church aid station.  Anna was doing the 21 miler, so the end of the next loop was her last.  I made one more stop at the Port-a-Potty; Macy, who had won the 10.5 miler for the women earlier that day, refilled my water bottles; and Karri and I were off again.

Four miles into the loop, I tried to eat Skratch chews again, but after the second one I had a strong feeling that if I tried to eat any more, they would come back up.  Luckily, I was still at least able to drink water.  I think I got maybe one more Skratch chew down later down the road.  It got very windy.  At one point, where we were briefly on pavement on our way back into the woods, I felt like I was going to be blown over sideways.  Karri had been playing music for us, and at one point, "Jessie's Girl," one of my favorite songs of all time, came on.  "I'm going to do the hand-clappy part to see if I can still clap in rhythm," I told her.  I kind of could.  Running and clapping is hard, FYI.  At the Runner Church aid station, I tried to sip a little ginger ale, but since we were 2.5 miles from the end at that point, I didn't try to get anything else down.  Karri needed to put on sunscreen, so she told me to go on ahead and she would catch me.  After the Runner Church station, you ran up a grassy hill, crossed some pavement, and went back into the woods.  At that point, I tripped over a root.  I caught myself and didn't hit the ground.  Still, I shouted, "THIS SUCKS!" to the heavens.  Karri caught up with me again.  The next thing that stands out is that there was a big hill, and Karri was like, "What song can I play to get you up this hill?," and I was like, "Nothing."  Like, not in the mood for songs right now, let's just finish this thing.  (Later, I realized that "Man! I Feel Like a Woman!" would have been the correct answer.)  We crossed the finish line in 6:58:34, so I was pretty right when I predicted that I would be out there for "like seven hours."  Our friends were there to cheer us in at the finish line.

I went and sat at a picnic bench.  Then I wanted to lie on the ground, so Carrie M. went and got a blanket.  Then I drank some ginger ale.  Then my stomach started to settle down.  I drank a Coke.  Eventually, we went our separate ways and made plans for dinner later.  I went home, took a shower, ate some Pringles, and by the time we were on our way to dinner, I said to Karri, "I reserve the right to change my mind on this, but I have felt worse after other races."  I threw up at the finish line of my first half-marathon.  I ran a 15K trail run in July heat back in 2012 that I still refer to as Death in the Woods.  Lying on a blanket feeling a little queasy didn't seem terrible by comparison.

We all went out for dinner, and Theresa asked me what the best and worst parts were.  I was quick to recount the queasiness as the worst part.  Then I said that the best part was the camaraderie, and I can't stress that enough.  Between getting to run the first loop with Karri, Ross, Anna, and Julia, Karri pacing me the whole way, Macy and Amber there at the aid stations, everyone there at the finish, and still more people there to congratulate all of us on Tuesday at run group, I felt so supported before, during, and after.  My friends are so great.

I drank a beer that was literally the size of my head that night.  That seems like an important detail.

I didn't sleep well that night and woke up sore the next day.  I got a really good night's sleep on Monday and woke up even more sore on Tuesday.  Tuesday night, I went to IRRC and walked with Julia and Theresa.  Afterwards, I talked to Carrie M. and said, "I feel like with races like this, it's you versus the course," and she said, "That's exactly right." I planned to take a full week off running and have stuck to that so far, but I am mostly not sore anymore and starting to feel a little antsy.  Still, with midterm grades due today and some fun social plans coming up this weekend, it should be easy enough to wait until Sunday.

Some takeaways:

1) The three weeks between the preview run and the race were very stressful and full of self-doubt.  However, I'm VERY glad that I did the preview run and kind of got real with myself about how things were going to be.  Up to that point, I think I thought it was going to be "not that much harder" than running a marathon.  It was a lot harder.  I'm glad I was prepared for that.  It's not good to be so scared that you talk yourself out of things, but it's also not good to kid yourself or not take things seriously enough.

2) That said, I actually was fairly physically prepared at that point, or I wouldn't have gotten through it.  I basically adapted the Hal Higdon Intermediate 1 plan that I did for Grandma's Marathon, doing more runs on trails and adjusting as I needed to for other races.  I totaled up and figured out that I did 88% of the workouts on the plan, giving me a B+ for preparedness.  Though I joked with my friends about the fact that I calculated all that and graded myself and all, I think it was actually a pretty good gauge, and think that in the A-/B+ range is a good place to be; I don't want to ever be so rigid that I can't ever miss a workout, but I also am not someone who "wings" things.  I would not have done it if I was not actually prepared.

3) I started my adult running career (I ran track and cross country in high school) in the year 2011.  I've run alone, with different small groups of friends, and with organized training groups, and I imagine that I will run as long as I am able and still liking it regardless of where I am or who I'm with.  However.  It's my friends who have consistently helped me level up and supported me.  In 2018, after finishing the Kentucky Derby Mini-Marathon, showering, and venturing back out for lunch, my friends and I passed people who were finishing the full.  While I was thinking, "Man, I'm so glad I didn't do the full! That looks terrible!," Carrie N. was like, "If they can do it, we can do it."  I was like, "FINE." So we registered for the Monumental Marathon in Indianapolis that fall, trained together, and my friends Alice and Shannon surprised me at the finish line with signs they had made.  At lunch, they gave me a decorated box full of cards and gifts from other friends who couldn't come but wanted to show their support.  The next year, Alice brought our friends Mel and Erin along.  I still remember (and have video somewhere) of running down the stretch before I made the last turn to the finish and seeing them cheering.  There was a woman holding a sign that said "Tap here to power up" with the mushroom from Super Mario Brothers, and Alice started shouting, "TAP THE SIGN! TAP THE SIGN!" I still giggle when I think about it.  Then I moved to Omaha, and was introduced to the Omaha running community through the Inner Rail Run Club; it was the friends I met there who introduced me to trail running.  I knew ultrarunning existed before meeting them, but I had never actually known anyone who had run further than a marathon.  I started thinking about it, but when I got into the Chicago Marathon in 2021, my focus all went toward training for that (though I did some shorter trail races throughout the year).  So, this was the year.  Thanks so much to Karri, Carrie M., Julia, Anna, Amber, Macy, Theresa, and the MANY other awesome people who did training runs with me, ran with me for all or part of the race itself, or were there at the finish line-- all while working toward their own goals.  Would I run on my own?  Yes, but definitely not as far, and it definitely wouldn't be as fun.

Monument Half-Marathon Race Recap

I used to be able to hit sub-two hours in the half-marathon consistently, with just the occasional exception on an especially hilly course or a really hot, humid day, until 2019, at which point it became much more hit or miss.  I hit it most recently in October 2019 at the Evansville Half with a time of 1:55:56.  Though I'm sure age has something to do with the difference, I will also say that nine of my top twelve half times (I've run twenty-three road half-marathons) were at the Evansville Half, which is held in early October; the weather tends to be cool, and the course is mostly flat.  There was bound to be more variation once I started branching out more frequently to different courses, running them at different times of year, training for longer distances, and doing the occasional not-that-smart thing like running halfs on back-to-back weekends.

This past Saturday I ran the Monument Half-Marathon in Gering, Nebraska, and I knew a sub-two time was probably not in the cards when miles two and three were both up the same, seemingly endless hill.  The first mile was downhill; when my watch chimed and I had an 8:31 pace, I wasn't sure whether to think, "Oooh, you went out too fast," or, "It's fine, you have some time banked now," or just, "Well, that was downhill, who cares?" A woman running near me, who I will refer to as My Musical Friend because she was playing music over her phone, and throughout the race I would speed up when I heard the music coming behind me, scolded her husband for pacing them too fast during the first mile.  During the second mile, when we all started uphill, he said something to her like, "Look, I will stay with you until it doesn't make sense anymore."  My watch chimed at the end of the second mile: 9:39.  "Oooohhh," I said aloud, in a tone like, "That's not good."  My Musical Friend said, "It's okay.  It'll even out with the downhills."  That made sense at that point, since my first mile was about thirty seconds too fast and the second was about thirty seconds too slow for the pace I was trying to hit...but then mile three continued uphill.  "Just go!" My Musical Friend said to her husband.  Up ahead, another woman urged her friend to go on ahead of her; the hills were breaking up duos left and right.  Mile three was another 9:39.  The hill finally started to descend at mile four, but not quite at the same degree; mile four was 9:07, which was better and back on pace, though not enough faster to make up tons of ground.

A few things happened relatively simultaneously at mile five: the course turned onto a gravel road; the half-marathon relay, which started thirty minutes after the half-marathon, had its first exchange point, so there was a "Why are there so many people just standing around?" moment; and the course became just BEAUTIFUL.  If you've ever been to the Scottsbluff/Gering area, you know that it is beautiful in general, but at this point there were some Badlands-like formations that you don't normally see.  We were running on a gravel road around the back side of the Scottsbluff National Monument, which you don't normally have a reason to go to.  Also at this point, us runners spread out a bit more.  I passed an older man who had started alternating between running and walking.  Occasionally, I would hear My Musical Friend's music behind me, then the music would fade again.  One thing with the early uphill miles was that you started to see people struggling earlier in the race than you normally would.  I wouldn't say I was struggling, but I did consciously adjust my goal from sub-two to "just try to keep all your miles under ten minutes."

Things kind of became a blur around mile seven or eight.  My Musical Friend disappeared somewhere behind me (I wish I knew her real name so I could look up how she finished).  We got back on pavement as the course turned onto the paved bike/running trails near the monument.  My parents were cheering two different places.  The first, my dad called out that I was twenty-fourth out of the women.  The second, my mom called out, "Molly! Look who's here!  It's Kaitlyn!"; my cousin's daughter was volunteering with some fellow nursing students.  The course kind of zig-zagged through some neighborhoods, with arrows on the ground pointing our way and volunteers in the confusing spots.  We switched back to gravel to head back to the start/finish at Five Rocks Amphitheater, running past a cemetery.  There was another downhill, and a volunteer kept calling out to us to watch ourselves on the gravel.  Next thing I knew I was crossing the finish.  My time was 2:07:55, far off the goal (hope?), but sometimes you adjust as you go when the course is more challenging than expected.  Final results were 24/125 women and 61/218 overall.

It was a great race.  I really enjoyed the mixture of pavement and gravel, and the scenery was beautiful.    Since it was a smaller race, you spread out a bit more than you typically would in a road half-marathon; the person who finished before me was forty seconds ahead, while the person behind was more than twenty seconds back.  I think I'm going to go back for the full next year.  For the full, they bus you out to the Wildcat Hills, and the first five miles are downhill.  Their second half overlaps with the half-marathon course.  I imagine pacing would be challenging since the second half is the more difficult half.  At any rate, I'd like to try it.  I think I love smaller races.  

One of the sponsors was the Flyover Brewery, and they offered a free beer if you brought your race bib in before six p.m.  My parents and I went sometime between five and six, and there were lots of people there wearing their race shirts, and the race director was coming around talking to everyone and thanking us for being there.  The proceeds go to scholarships at Western Nebraska Community College, so she emphasized how much they have raised since they started doing the race.  The whole community was really supportive of the race.  I would definitely recommend.

Grandma's Marathon Race Recap

Grandma's Marathon race day started with them shuttling us via school bus from hotels/dorms/various locations around Duluth to the starting line.  I noticed as soon as I got on the bus that my phone battery was already down to 52%, which I cursed myself for and knew would not end well.  Fortunately, that would be the worst thing that happened that day.

My previous marathon PR was 4:36:17, set at the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon in 2019.  Having bonked at all three of my previous marathons, I decided to start off with the 4:35 pace group.  During the fourth mile, I kept finding myself having to slow down and let the pace group catch back up to me, which eventually started to seem dumb, so I decided to just run my race.  I warned myself not to let myself get under 10:00 miles until at least mile sixteen.  I accidentally did once at mile thirteen, but it wasn't much under so I didn't worry about it.

Though I left the 4:35 group behind, I had a pace bracelet telling me what time I needed to be at at each mile to hit 4:35, which was SUPER helpful.  With two miles to go, I knew I had banked somewhere between two and three minutes and would hit my goal as long as I kept within the range of what I'd already been doing.  Then someone started playing "All I Do is Win," and a random stranger called out to no one in particular, "YOU'RE DOING IT!!!," and I was like, "I AM doing it!," and I took off.  Mile 25 pace was 9:39.  Mile 26 was 9:33.  After I crossed the finish line, I got the notification on my watch from the Grandma's app that said, "Molly Brost has crossed the finish line at 4:30:54," and I was like, "HOLY CRAP!" I managed to collect my medal and, with my phone now at 7%, shoot off a text to my family telling them my time.  Somehow, even after my phone died, I was still getting notifications on my watch, so even though I couldn't respond, I managed to get the gist of where my friends were and find them with only *a little* wandering around cursing myself for not making sure that I had started the day with a properly charged phone.

Some things that helped me reach my goal:

1) Nearly perfect conditions.  Temps were in the 50s, the course was nice and flat with some downhills and only really one big uphill.  I commented to more than one person, "Part of me wants to retire from marathon running right now, because I will never have this perfect of a race again."  A random stranger who struck up with a conversation with me at a water fountain was like, "Oh, wow, what a great thing to be able to say! You're not going to, though, right?" I was like, "Of course not."

2) The Hal Higdon Intermediate 1 training plan, pictured below:

For my previous three marathons I used the Novice 2 plan.  The main difference between that one and this one was this one included five weekly runs instead of four, which meant back-to-back runs on the weekends.  This sometimes led to things that I never would have considered possible before, such as, say, running the Early Bird 10 Miler one day and then waking up the next morning and doing fifteen miles.  I thought to myself multiple times throughout training, "I don't know if I'm actually getting faster, but I can DO MORE than I've ever been able to do before."  I didn't follow the plan perfectly, because life happens, but I calculated it and determined that I did 91% of the workouts on the plan.  I think it's good to choose a plan that is maybe just A LITTLE too hard, because even if you fall slightly short, you're still going to be doing more than you've done before.

3) Proper portions of Honey Stinger chews.  I always struggle with race day/long run nutrition.  I was worried because I felt like I'd been really fading on my long runs.  Then I looked on the back and saw that the serving size was six Honey Stinger chews.  I'd been eating four every four miles.  I upped it to six, and I swear to God it made a huge difference.

4) Last, but CERTAINLY not least, awesome running friends! Omaha has a fantastic running community.  There are running groups most nights of the week, and through those groups you can meet awesome friends to also do your weekend long runs with 👍. Thanks so much to everyone who did training runs with me, shared the race weekend experience, or offered support from afar!

After the disappointment of last fall's hot AF Chicago Marathon, it was nice to have a race go really well.  I feel like this is the first full marathon that I've actually raced and not just tried to survive.