This was my 3rd year doing the Wascally Wabbit half. I had already lost my legacy status in the Hell of a Half, I was determined not to loose this one too. Hell of a Half was 6 days following my knee injury, so I knew it was out of the question. Wascally was 6 weeks and I was feeling good but still knew I did not have the training in to be truly successful. While I know some runners get tired of the trails out in Fresno's Woodward Park, I always enjoy my time out there. My friend Stefanie was also injured, so we had talked about hobbling through it together.
Around mile 3.5, Stef and I came upon another pair of runners. We stuck together for a little while and soon new pairs were formed among us. This continued to work until just part mile 6. There were so many different things swirling around my head by this point as I watched Stef pull further and further ahead with her new partner while I just couldn't find the strength to run long enough to get closer. Going down the final hill to the turn around that would lead me back up to mile 8, I knew I was just about done and the climb back to the top would finish me off.
Our mile per minute were consistently around 16:30 and I was okay with that. But there was no way to recover from the 20+ it took me to get from miles 8 to 9. Mentally I knew I would finish. Physically, I was questioning how much I was putting my body through with 6 weeks of almost no training and an injured knee. I knew Stef would be at the finish line with her family no matter what so I kept moving forward.
The aid-station workers were amazing. They kept smiling and cheering and offering their support as I trudged along. I would let them know I was the caboose and keep pushing forward. While it was hotter than I like for doing any type of running, I wasn't overly worried about it, but by the time I reached the finish line it was clear I had pushed too far and was more than likely suffering from heat exhaustion. I had already suffered from heat exhaustion and the beginning of a heat stroke in May of 2012 while running the California Classic.
As I came to the final loop and could see the 13 mile marker (I was working to reach mile 11), a large part of me said I should know better as a coach and call it a day and cut the final 2 miles out. I looked at my GPS and knew this was going to be worse than I had hoped or expected for a finish time and I was risking not getting an official time in the end. As I came around to where 12 should have been, a truck pulled up behind me offering assistance (they were the final station and had been told to leave as there was no one out on the course). I had refilled at mile 11ish and knew it was just a matter of pushing on to the end. I thanked them and kept walking.
I knew I was in trouble when I started questioning the trail and where I was. I had the same feeling in 2012. Eventually, Stef came around the corner and over the hill, she had come to get me. I talked of calling it a day when she told me they had began to shut down and wouldn't listen to her when she insisted there was still a runner on the course. My car was right there. I even had it unlocked and was reaching for the handle. Stef smiled at me and said "come on, lets finish it, you've already come this far." Even through her own knee pain, she walked the last of that final mile with me so I could finish, even if no one was around.
What got me the most was the feeling of utter loss when I walked through the arch and across the finish mat. I looked around desperately for even just a glass of fresh water, as bite of banana or bagel, something. I knew the food goodies that had been offered were long gone, but was hoping someone had heard Stef and left a bite of something out. When I saw nothing, I started to make my way to the shade. Someone from the race came running over to give me my medal but made no attempt to ask if I needed anything else as they quickly handed the medal to me and then rushed off to finish their packing chores.
While I completely understand there was clearly a 3:30 finish time posted on the website, I am a firm believer that no runner should ever be left behind, no matter the distance. Someone could have easily been standing around the 11.8 marker and pushing us off the course to the finish, instead of allowing us to make the final loop. Had there been someone there offering that, I would have been done, with or without the medal and legacy status. But I kept going because I was afraid that all my work would have been for nothing had I "quit."
Upon sitting down, I could feel my body beginning to shut down. I wanted to lay down but knew that would not be wise so I sat there with my arms on my knees and my head in my hands and waited for what was to come. What came was all of the Nuun I had been drinking. At least then someone noticed and offered me some fake orange juice (which was not going to help but I drank some of the watered down version to make those around me feel better). After one drive heave, I was done and turned to my pack to grab a salt tablet (something I am smart enough to know I should have taken much earlier). By then one of the RD team was there and finally showing concern, but again, no one had anything solid or water to offer.
While I thank all of the ladies who stopped to offer assistance from the bottom of my heart, I hope the RD team of this event and others can learn from my experience. Had I been a less experienced runner, this ending could have been a lot worse. After 5 1/2 years, my body has learned how to deal with the demands I put on it. Within seconds of the salt tablet hitting my system I knew I was fine. I knew throwing up wasn't a big issue because (as gross as it may sound) it didn't taste funny, it tasted like Nuun. I knew it was just my body purging itself so I would listen and give it what it needed.
Stef and her family gave me a ride back to my car and I quickly opened the trunk where I keep my emergency snack stash. I grabbed an apple sauce and some chocolate waffer crackers and knew I would be good. Gave Stef and her husband Jason a hug and thanked them again for all their support. They then sat there and waited for me to start my car before driving off (and kept waiting to see if I was actually driving and not just sitting there). I can not thank them enough for their friendship and support and I am so grateful for having them in my life again.
I have tried emailing the RD and letting him know about my experience but it has gone unanswered sadly. I have debated on if I want to try reaching out again, now that it has been a week, but don't know if I will or not. While I will be back next year, it will be with a heavy heart. Knowing that no one was listening when they were told I was out there makes me extremely sad and disappointed. Knowing it could have been prevented by having someone at the time cutoff to push me to the finish and not the final loop would have solved the problem.
I know you are thinking that if I had cut the final 2 mile loop it would have cost me my legacy finish status, I don't know if that is true. I found out a couple of days before the race that if you did the half relay it still counted. Not sure I agree with that at all but it did have me questioning if I could have just done the 2 miler and had it count too. Which I had almost pushed to ask and insist on.
Looking forward to my next running experience and hoping no one else has to feel this way on this course. Maybe we need some sort of timing device at the start line so it registered who is out there and who just picked up their stuff. Yet another way the problem could have been avoided. Happy trails!!
