Engadin Ultra 102

 Demystifying the 100k

 

Coming home after a syndesmosis rupture, no training for 4 months now. A 100km race - a milestone I didn't need, just something I was curious about. Life changed lately. I lost all my systems. My body, mind and heart brutally bruised. Everything is way slower, maybe in a beautiful way and definitely more real. Gaining ownership over myself I have always just faked. My strategy: 0-25km: underwhelm, 25-50k eat, eat, eat, 50-75km stretch don't sit, 75-100km that's 5x5k, your mom can run 5k. 11pm sharp, I had a good nap, late for bib collection, all the foods I knew I am gonna want when tired, packed handy. The night started in hail, no worries I enjoyed every step, my main objective tending to my injuries – can I do hard things without damaging myself? I am in the lead with 5 other women, all is well. The night is dark, the headlamps give me tunnel vision, my backyard unrecognisable. Powering up my favorite places. The first major descent into 40km, the first light crept over the hills and I rejoice in joy, I am flying effortlessly. Nearing the bottom my detrained muscles and by now pounded tendons are becoming a real nuisance, take it easy. Dropping out at the next aid station I'd be more than happy. More and more people are passing me until Patrick who asks me to join him – delighted in his interest I did. For more than 65km and 16 hours we became acquainted. I didn't dare to leave his side though I wanted to many, many times. After all it's him I owe my first 100k to. He never complained and always carried a second pair of shoes, produced fresh socks in which he changed into frequently, he looked mad, though ran sovereignly, keeping me wondering why he'd want my company. The only thing I'd advise him on is to eat before becoming hungry, he always just stated to be hungry. The feed stations were stacked somewhat poorly with such as crackers, nonetheless I loved me some bouillon, a sip or two gives you, no matter the ailments, another 20mins of fuel. And so it went, we ran when possible, walked when my pains got unbearable or the terrain just got fucked. It was still early morning and I felt like I have been on a days long journey already. The sun got a little warmer, we met some other runners though wondered why the watch never progressed much at all until we were certain to be the last standing tail end. Before I met Patrick I had a lovely bike bell awakening at about 3am when a colleague who couldn't sleep tracked me down and followed me on his bike feeding me snacks. Into 50km we had a bigger break with so called drop bags, I washed myself entirely in the sink, massage-guned my inflamed hips down to my feet. With some fresh clothes, more food, lube, lube, lube we were off again. I got real interested in all the little paths I have never taken, take the path less traveled as they say, now the fuck I am lost. I knew I wasn't injuring myself, my old pains were nowhere to be seen which is a miracle in itself but I was still in deep ass pain with every step. I simply couldn't produce momentum anymore, I suffered like hell and let Patrick know in the hopes he'd leave me behind. 65km – I layed down at the aid station and took some pain killers. I didn't have a reason to continue but we did, like it was the only logical thing to do, including our new problem child Samuele. To our surprise there were still athletes coming into the station after us which was a little motivating. We were barely over half way and it was past midday, our Eta got later and later, almost unfathomable. Samuele just as Patrick and I has never done 100k before, he felt dizzy and opposing the medics recommendation to drop out he thought to continue in our company now, he didn't care to introduce himself just silently suffered among us, poorly equipped at that. Towards another ascent it started pouring rain again, it gave me a little kick, surely the pain meds just doing their thing. So now I am in charge of getting us up there as fast as possible, the boys wet in agony. Another aid station, friendly talks, food, a plan, Samuele came to life on that never ending descent and paced us off the mountain. In good enough spirits, now knowing his name at least, we charged towards cut off times. I kept eating painkillers. At some point we passed or got passed by who later turned out to be 61-year-old Rolf, a legend who enjoys getting beaten up by such competitions to his wife's dismay. Now I am absolutely certain this whole thing was poor judgement on my part but how can one truly know beforehand? At least now I have more information to work with. Another morale boost came from Matthias who followed us and cheered us on at every possible location, he thought we were amazing. I thought some folks finished hours ago and I could have had a relaxing weekend instead. We picked up Rolf, we are now running as 4, the last 4. I was blasting music for as long as my phone battery allowed which was also over now. We are headed for km85 and only a 1000m vertical gain left of almost 6000 total. Patrick and Samuele left me and I left Rolf. We are on our own now. The boys chasing the cut-off, I am mentally totally content to drop out, Rolf swearing off the trail. 1km to go I called Matthias to please pick me up, he said he was already there heading towards me and calculated that if I was to sprint now I am going to make it, it took a few seconds of convincing before I ran a 5min/km into the aid station, like the last 84km never existed. The usual suspects of the last hours awaited me applauding - we had a fan club now. The boys still recouping, the organizers changing the rules on the spot so we hang out for Rolf to come and once again set off together. In the meantime though I wasn't thrilled to be here I bargained hard to go home. The last words: They wanted to see us finish. I took off first knowing they'd catch me soon enough, enjoying a little alone time. The sun will set soon and I enjoyed the road, I knew I could do it. The uphills always seemed better than the downs. Finally another aid station, some interventions, someone with blisters, someone with nausea and the same, let's fucking move! We looked as shit as we felt. A breathtaking adventure, the last ascent, headlamps on, steady and never ending. A technical descent you dream of when you don't see no more, are tired, your legs don't listen anymore and you question your sanity to run a 100km solely to eat chocolate and gummie bears. We stopped talking long ago. Rolf and Patrick marching on, I had trouble keeping up, Samuele now being babysitted by the sweet Sweeper team on our heels. The last staged pictures of running and happiness. The last aid station, we have been out almost 24 hours! 5km to go, yet again a DNF was exactly what I wanted to surrender to. For reasons I neither know nor want to investigate further I found myself on the way to the finish line on my feet not a car. To our surprise we were outrageously celebrated into the finish chute just like the winners 12 hours ago. 25 hours, we hugged said our goodbyes. Patrick hungry, whatelse? Samuele confused in his moms and bros company, Rolf and his wife. Me pleading with Matthias to just take me straight to my bed. And thats it, 102km. I don't recommend it. It is totally possible, if you don't train it's mostly walking though. If you want to be fast you have to learn to run more and more and more. 85km, 100km, or 120km it doesn't make a difference to me, its all the same, the question remains ; why ? I am glad I did it. I am even more glad the pains feel adequate and recoverable. The hip is still hurting so are my tendons behind my knee, my feet are swollen and in blisters. I slept, I ate, I bathed. I am fine. My injuries held up like champions of a past lifetime. I saw some cool places in the home I forgot how to love. Running, as Courtney Dauwalter already said is just putting one foot in front of the other and when the going gets hard, you either sleep, eat or change the story in your head. I never understood people competing without the intent to win, now I do. For that moment I ran for the boy who stayed up to midnight to cheer our names, for Ursi from the bib collection who commented on my results page. For all the people who spend their free time supporting us. I am not an ultrarunner, I ran for something beyond myself, to be part of something bigger than me.