Bandera 100k recap - Redemption!

Last year, I was blinded by the bright sun. Photo credit: No Sleep Media

Like most runners, the pandemic dashed my 2020 aspirations. However, for me I had to live nearly a year with the sting of two subpar races before a chance for redemption. Despite having to make a solo 1500 mile drive each way (resulting in more time in the car than the past 10 months!) to the Bandera 100k, I needed to set things right for 2021. I spent weeks tabulating a list of all the reasons why this year would be different. But ultimately, I had set in my mind that I was not going to go through all this trouble to race without giving my best effort.

Finally enjoying a moment of redemption proudly displaying my finisher belt buckle.

Having run the course last year and supplementing with You Tube videos and race reports, I mentally raced the course in my mind. I had learned my lesson in 2011 when I encountered a huge mental blow after not being mentally prepared for all the possible scenarios of mishaps.

My biggest concern going into this race was my confidence on the ankle that I had sprained four weeks earlier. Each time I misstepped, the fear of missing my chance of redemption flashed. Although I had to eliminate all the technical running I planned to prepare over the final weeks, I was finally pain-free just days before the race. So when I arrived to the race course, I scouted some of the technical sections to regain a little confidence, as the course is very technical.

A solo 22 hour drive gives one plenty of time to mentally prepare for a 100k race. And with that mental edge, I was able to slice off over 45 minutes from my time from 2020. But the mental training began long before I hit the road. I had often gotten butterflies weeks and months before the race as I ran through race day in my mind.

Payoff

In preparations for this race, I commenced hill repeats for the first time in almost a decade. Although I dreaded the workouts, I knew I’d gain both a physical and mental edge over my 2020 performance. And did I! I surged up the short punchy hills and felt like a mountain goat on more sustained hills. I beamed as I entered the third aid station, as I came in under my goal pace. Quite a contrast as this section was the low point during both laps in 2020. Knowing I more than nailed that section gave me a boost that normally is absent at this point in the race.

Solo

Without a crew meant I needed to plan out possible scenarios for gear, hydration, and nutrition. Although volunteers had well-stocked aid stations every couple of miles, I didn’t want to lose precious minutes stopping longer than needed. I actually found that without a crew I had no reason to stop at aid stations (except when I got a hankering for water ¾ of the way through). I geeked out analyzing my stops (this was my first race with a SmartWatch!) and only spent 5 ½ minutes in aid stations. I actually used the TAs more when I dropped off my gear bags and picked them up than I did in the race.

Mix-and-match

I pride myself as a multi-sport athlete and it was on full display with my gear:

Adventure race long sleeve t-shirt
Adventure race gaiter
Adventure race cap
Wool ski socks
Ski tights
Ski water bottle carrier then my mountain biking/running hydration pack
Road (not trail) running shoes

My adventure racing experience proved invaluable as I carried hydration and nutrition for extended periods. I only stopped to reload at miles 9 and 31. I figured that although I was carrying more weight than all the other runners around me, it was still lighter than my load in adventure races.

Relatively unscathed

As I raced, I praised God every time I survived a technical section, especially after each close call. In one particular instance at mile 13, I lost my balance and found myself reaching out to regain my balance. I caught myself just before I grabbed a sotol cactus for support which would have only left my hand bloodied.

Despite several falls and blood-stained tights, I fared much between than most, including the women’s winner who broke her nose on a fall just past the halfway point and had both knees bloodied and another top woman that received a concussion. And they weren’t the only victims. As I completed lap 2, I noticed several rocks where people had bashed their knee on so badly that the blood had dripped down the rock.

The technicality of the majority of the first several miles forced me to run as fast as I could without falling. I struggled to find opportunities to eat and drink as I knew one misstep could end my day.

No Lemming Award

My feet immediately after

Over a month later

I was also pleased to not fall victim to a Lemming Award. Although I followed a runner off trail a few miles into the race, I turned around immediately and only lost a few seconds. Finally, a race without a major wrong turn.

Finding Limits?

As the only person to pass me on the second lap flew by, I suddenly had a sensation of my entire body turning to lead. Even though I knew I was pushing more and felt the same speed as lap one, I double checked my watch when it read 1.5 minutes per mile slower. I suddenly slowed to a walk and felt lightheaded. I had to shake myself back into consciousness – I was only six miles from the finish line, less than an hour. I’ve never had a moment like that before and so made every effort to maintain my focus yet staying in-tune with my body which was on the verge of shutting down. I don’t even remember making the mile lap through a large field but suddenly found myself at the next aid station. I had intended to drop my hydration vest but since my body was nearing its limits, I figured I’d better keep it just in case.

My feet were hurting in so many places that it was actually easy for me to block out. The sensation reminded me of the almost daily occurrence skiing when my feet go numb and rewarm. However, I wasn’t able to sleep hardly at all the night following the race since they still hurt.

Then as I stumbled up the final climb, I resisted the urge to lay down on a rock for a nap. I forced myself out of a trace as reminded myself not only was the finish line only a mile away but the entire course was downhill. Only a few minutes left. All I needed to do was make one final technical descent and cruise to the finish. But with leaden legs, only a few steps later I fell and slid down the hill, dragged myself up and fell a second time. Luckily I was going so slow that I remained unscathed. I managed to hold it together and make it to the finish line, knowing I had finished what I set out to do. I knew I laid it all on the course as last year my last split was my fastest pace but not today.

Never once did it cross my mind that I would not finish. And there wasn’t a moment of wanting the race to just be over. Rather I was living in the present moment.