Elsie Enduro 2022. What a Ride!

I’m going to start by thanking everyone at Elsie Enduro Trail Ultra for putting on a tremendous event. This is a running event to fundraise for the Evitt Foundation, which promotes child welfare and education. The swag is fantastic, the atmosphere is fun, and the skill of all the great runners made this an amazing event. This format is very accommodating to runners and athletes of varying skill levels and experience.

 

The Elsie Enduro is located at the Elsie Holmes Nature Park along the South Chickamauga Creek in Ringgold, GA. There’s a dam nearby and the lower rim runs right along the edge of the creek creating a great view with relaxing sounds. The format of the race is a Last Man Standing format. This is not a point-to-point race where the 1^st person to complete the course wins. Instead, every 40 minutes, runners complete an estimated 2.50-mile loop (my watch measured 2.55-2.60 miles) with an estimated 500 ft of elevation gain, which includes steep inclines and stairways that will challenge the strongest runners. Participants alternate direction every loop, and that is indicated by color-coded wristbands.

 

I returned after much disappointment in 2021, where I only lasted 35 miles on a perfect day. In the year that has gone by, I have gone from a newbie from Wisconsin to an experienced mountain trail runner. However, today the weather is uncertain. Rain is being called on and off throughout the day. Highs around 50 and lows around 30. I put together lots of clothing combinations to prepare for the possible weather and sorted them in a 3-drawer organizer. An unexpected rain shower in the morning forces some unexpected adjustments. My goal this year is to set a PR for a distance of 100k (62.2 miles, 25 loops = 62.5 miles), despite never going past the 50-mile mark before.

 

Spirits are high this year, having friends in the event and even a teammate, Shay. His canopy came in clutch and had people that came to help support the middle rounds a bit, which was helpful. The 1^st marathon of 10 loops goes by quickly. Most of the field remains as the weather holds for the most part. Shay and I have found our grooves. I’ve found a solid rhythm and pace, being able to control my heart rate, and successfully manage my intake and hydration. The 1^st major hurdle for me happened heading out for Loop 13, 32.5 miles into the race. I thought, here we go again. I had major stomach issues and started feeling lightheaded. I finished the loop but felt very uncomfortable. I’ve had these issues before, so I decided to take an enzyme hoping it’s simply a digestion issue. I waited until the last second because I knew the potential consequences. I felt instantly relieved and was able to finish with ample time after making a brief pit stop.

 

The issue at this point was that the weather was changing, and I needed to make a major wardrobe change and use the bathroom between loops with about 6-7 minutes until the next loop. I quickly grabbed a change of clothes and ran to the bathroom. I rushed to make a major wardrobe change and use the facilities. I was able to make the start about 15 seconds after loop 14 began, so I was confident I could finish in time. I finished the loop in normal time and was able to make a couple minor adjustments without issue. The sunset and the nighttime came, this is where the real race begins. The rest of the loops to 20 went smoothly, with the rain holding off and mild temperatures. At this point, I’ve started to run with another guy holding the same pace and chit-chatting making the time go by quickly.

 

12 runners reach the 50-mile mark at just over 13 hours into the race. The weather was about to get worse, so several runners tapped out here. However, only 7 people continued the race with the course and weather changing rapidly. I am now in unfamiliar territory in both duration and distance. The rain has picked up and is now steady with the temperatures quickly dropping. The river is rising, and the course is getting slick and muddy. One runner did not complete Loop 21 and two more runners failed to complete Loop 23. The field has gone from 12 to 4 in 3 loops. I remain strong working with Lucien, who I started talking and running with 5 or 6 loops ago. The other 2 runners left are Brandon, who’s been running some of the fastest Loops of the race since the beginning, and the defending champion David who has been holding steady. I knew my hands were full and all I could do was stay calm and remind myself to run my race and stick to my strategy because this was the start of the endgame.

 

At this point, I’m feeling confident in my rhythm. Lucien and I stayed steady hitting our marks and splits like we’ve talked about the past several loops. We finish at our normal time, and I get prepared to head out for Loop 24 (60 miles). There’s a headlamp rushing to make the cutoff for the loop, David barely makes the cutoff and rushes out for the next loop. I start by taking the lead, something that is new to me as I get into my rhythm and realize that I have quickly dropped my competitors. The trail is bright with my Kogalla RA. I keep steady hitting my marks like clockwork. Brandon passes me before the inner loop and Lucien catches up soon after. I complete loop 24 and am ready to go out for Loop 25, my goal of 100k. The clock ticks down. 30 seconds, now 10, now 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. The defending champion David did not make the cutoff and the field is down to 3.

 

It’s hard for my mind not to race to realize what just happened. I quickly remember there are 2 stronger runners still in this race. Brandon and Lucien have been there before, having completed 100+ mile races previously. I am just taking this race 1 loop at a time, coming up with some random source of motivation to continue. Loop 25 was different, we stay close together, and I eventually took the lead of the loop. I complete the loop 1^st with Lucien and Brandon finishing closely behind. I kept my strategy hitting my marks and splits, my confidence soared as I prepared to continue past my goal until I can no longer continue or maybe even be the Last Man Standing. The reality of that possibility is undeniable now. Loop 26 was like 25, with Lucien and I close together and hitting our split times. While preparing for Loop 27, the 2 of us are at the starting line. 30 seconds to go and Brandon has not completed Loop 26, then 10 seconds tick down all the way to 0. We are officially down to 2.

 

After 18 hours and 67.5 miles, it is down to Lucien and me. We’ve been running and working together for the past 6 hours and 20+ miles. His crew has been incredibly supportive, even helping prepare for the next loop on occasion. I cannot thank them enough for the encouragement throughout the event, even when it was down to just 2 of us. I begin to focus on completing the next loop and repeat doing so until I no longer can. I realize that I need to run my own race and with a lack of crew, the long day, growing tired and sore, I need to consolidate as much as possible to conserve as much time and energy as I can. The course has changed considerably, the bottom rim is no longer runnable. It is extremely sloppy. Coarse mud and standing water have taken over near the dam. The water level has raised all the way to the bottom of my calves in a couple of places. Despite all of this, I am ready to go as far as my body will take me.

 

Loops 27 through 29 was business as usual. Lucien and I continued to work together. I’ve adjusted how I run the loop to account for the slowdown at the bottom. I recognize that the trails that are dry must be run on, so I do slowly I would typically start out by taking the lead with Lucien in tow and he would pass me once we hit the lower rim with me staying close behind. At this point, I am enjoying this moment knowing this could end at any moment. I have found peace and serenity as the temperature drops and the water level rises. I feel happy and satisfied with my performance so far but remain aware that this is a Last Man Standing Race and this race will go as long as we both continue to complete loops. I remain focused on completing each Loop and have been able to do so without issue. Loop 30 starts like the previous Loops have, going for 75 miles. I feel good until I reach the bottom rim. My legs are sore and begin cramping intensely. I struggle to pick my feet up as I fall a couple times trying to navigate through the mud. I continue to press on knowing I am maintaining a good enough pace to finish in time with just under 3 minutes to go. My heart rate is a little accelerated and hopes I can recover on the next loop. I quickly fill up my water, get some food, chug a coke, take a round of meds, and stretch as much as I can before the start of Loop 31.

 

As I start this loop, I physically feel different. The strength and confidence that I have been relying on is starting to fade. My entire body hurts. I remain steady on the upper sections, but as I reach the bottom rim, I am clinging on for dear life. My feet are getting stuck in the mud, and I fell 3 more times before reaching the inner loop, including one where my hip landed awkwardly on a tree root. I get through the inner loop without issue, and time is close. I estimate I can finish the loop in time if I remain steady, but I cannot let up like I have in previous loops. My heart is racing, pounding rapidly through my chest as I push my body to make up for the lost time from the falls. I’m able to traverse the rest of the bottom rim with only 1 more slip and began the final climb of the loop with just enough time to finish.

 

I began to have an emotional breakdown and cry uncontrollably being overwhelmed by the moment. My pace has slowed to a power hike at this point. I am flailing my arms and shuffling my legs as hard as I can to make the cutoff. As I reach the steepest section, I hear cheers coming from the top. Lucien has made it up. I look at my watch and realize there are 5 minutes and 30 seconds left. My leg cramps up as I climb the steep stairs and lock up to the point where I can’t lift my leg or bend my knee. Stiff-legged, I push through it and am able to reach the final section. It’s a small awkward climb, but it’s starting to flood, so footing is difficult. I climb the rim as best as I can and realize there are just over 2 minutes left. I shuffle my feet as fast as I can to finish the loop with just under 90 seconds to go. I hand my water bottle to one of the race volunteers as I desperately try to recover.

 

I am hiding my pain and tears. I have a noticeable limp at this point and am hardly able to move. I get to the starting line with about 30 seconds to go, not even letting the idea of quitting enter my mind. I am leaning on the barricade, using it to balance myself and stay upright. Tears flood my eyes as the pain is becoming unbearable, but I keep telling myself just 1 more loop. This is for 80 miles! 50 miles + 50K! I let out a primal scream trying to overcome it all. The beep goes out for Loop 32 and Lucien goes out full speed. I began shuffling my feet to start again. As I approach the 1^st minor hill about 50 yards past the start, I’m unable to climb the mudslide. My feet just keep sliding down and eventually get stuck. I take a moment to collect my thoughts and realize this is the end of my journey. If this was a 100-mile race, I would take a few minutes to walk and collect my thoughts and recover, but I know the cutoff is too much to overcome. I slowly and carefully return to the start line where I let everyone know I tap out.

When I returned, I couldn’t bend my legs. I had to lean against a tree to stay upright. I got helped into a chair next to a fire to stay warm. I let go of everything for a few minutes and wept uncontrollably. I couldn’t bear to look up at anyone. I just wanted to be invisible as the pain and the reality of the situation began to sit in. After a few minutes of reflection, I was able to regain my composure and enjoy the comradery of the race staff and Lucien’s crew. All that was left was to congratulate Lucien when he returned. As the minutes wound down, his crew had his favorite song playing on loop. With about 10 minutes to go, I am freezing and shivering. The fire isn’t producing enough heat to stay warm. With about 5 minutes to go, we all are starting to get anxious. If Lucien doesn’t finish this loop in time, then there is no winner to the race since we both are disqualified on the same loop. Seconds later, there’s a light coming into focus from a distance and Lucien finishes with 3 minutes and 30 seconds on the clock. It took a little longer than what we all expected, but he persevered to win. His crew congratulated him and came directly over to me. We embraced each other and I congratulated him on becoming the last man standing. I couldn’t be happier for him, as we spent hours together out there. I never viewed him as my competitor, but as a friend and a fellow runner.

 

After the race ended, I had no more energy. I remain quite disoriented and in severe pain from the 21 hours and 77.5 miles spent on the course. I was fully prepared to sleep in my car or in the cabin area, but I was taken back by everyone willing to help me pack up my gear and load my car for me. In the 10-15 minutes it took for me to change my clothes and warm up, my car was nearly loaded with all my stuff. The canopy I was using was taken down and packed along with my drawer organizer. I even had people willing to drive my car home for me. About an hour and a half had passed since I finished my last loop, and I was starting to regain my bearings. I made the short drive home as the sun was rising.

 

I am extremely grateful to have participated in the Elsie Enduro. I went further and longer than I ever imagined and envisioned. I was able to push my limits and boundaries further than what I believed I was capable of. I want to thank and congratulate my fellow runners are persevering and pushing their boundaries on a difficult course and treacherous weather conditions. Most of all, thank the group that put together this race. Elsie Enduro is a fundraising event that benefits the Evitt Foundation, which promotes child welfare and education.