Drop and Give Me 100: Skydive Ultra



“I don’t like the start.”

“I don’t run well in the heat.”

“My 100’s are over.”

These tapes have been running in my head for a while. They were limiting me. I had to finally say, “Screw those tapes. It’s time for a new recording.”

I decided to challenge each and every one of them, and I signed up for the Skydive Ultra in Clewiston, Florida.

100’s starting lines overwhelm me, so I found a race with a challenging start. I would skydive and hopefully enjoy euphoria, before taking on the race.

Heat is a new health challenge for me. So, I figured running in Florida would be a good idea. I hedged my bets.  I ran in January, when it wouldn’t be so overwhelming, and where I would have a significant amount of nightfall to lessen my direct time in sunlight. I was diligent about medical precautions and running safely.

100’s are a bear. I’ve come to terms that I wont finish every one I start, but, I’m not ready to hang up that distance, and don’t think I will be any time soon.

This race was just what I needed.

When I was prepping for my skydive (one I was blessed enough to enjoy, others were cancelled due to high winds), I consciously decided to play a new tape. “Relax, focus on the good things and the fun I will have. I will take the challenges in stride. Enjoy the challenge”, all played through my mind. And, then I began to meditate. “Quiet your thoughts. Push your body. Challenge your mind. Learn patience, and so on.” I was nervous, but, I felt centered and strong. I was ready to literally throw caution to the wind.

The skydive was euphoric. An adventure within itself. It was not my first time, and it is my hope it will not be my last. The winds carried my far from the start, but it was ok. Surreal to see the race with a birds-eye view. My emotions were like a teeter-totter switching between being very present in the free-flight moment, and watching the race that was taking place under my feet. “Be. Here. Now”, I commanded myself.


The dive ended far too soon, and within seconds, I was taking off my flight suit, hustling over to the start, getting a 30 second race briefing and heading out on my way. My mind was still flying, and riding a high. I have NEVER felt that at the beginning of a 100. I was literally bounding down the very (VERY) flat trail! I want to say I channeled my inner triathlete to help with the transition, but honestly I felt like a badass airborne trooper, heading into battle!

The reality of the race transitioned in slowly. I knew it was going to be a long day (plus) and the winds that threw me off course in the air, were very present on the ground. Mother Nature wanted to make herself known. Ok, whatever, I’ve dealt with her before, and I’ll deal with her again. I did not fight the weather, as I sometimes have, I just decided to handle what was in front of me. Wind, pelting (short-lived) rain, heat, rocks, dust, copperhead snakes, geckos, alligators, whatever, bring it Mother Nature, I can persevere.

I used my thoughts to fuel me. I thought of people I think of everyday, and I thought of people I haven't thought of in years. I let my mind wander to scenarios that I find very enticing, and I thought through some choices that I’ve made carelessly. I counted blessings. I listened to books. I sang LOUDLY (and even made up a few lyrics) And, later in the race, I chose to drown out all thoughts.

I hit my normal 80 (ish) mile wall, when it is just so easy to stop, and reminded myself to “stay strong”. It was what I needed. I was nowhere near the cutoff, but since I was on a different start time (due to the jump) than everyone else, there were not many runners left on the course. It was a mighty push, and those last few miles were not pretty at all. The course actually measures out to 101.5 and the skydive added another 2.5, and I was at the time, very resentful of the extra mileage. I had to tell myself that they were going to be earned miles, and I should be extra proud of them. It helped to center me.

Finally, I crossed the finish line. I was dirty, weak and battered, but I was proud of myself. Not only for finishing the race, but for changing the tapes in my head.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Phunt 50k 2021

 It is amazing to me that my last blog entry was Phunt 50k from last year.   Although, I have run multiple ultras this past year, allowing me to surpass my 100th all time ultra-distance, I have not been moved to blog.   But, then, there is Phunt.   This is a race like no other, even in the virtual world.  You see, I was driving to Phunt on the day my brother passed away.  I've always felt a kindred connection between this race and Rick, and the prevalence of PBR on the swag, only deepens that connection. Phunt was my litmus.   I came back last year and ran with all my heart.   I ran for me.  I ran for time.  I ran for the adventure.   What I didn't know, was that I was running in-person for the last time.   For the race this year, which was virtual, I toed the line of my one mile cemetery loop.  This loop and I have become quite close this year.  On Saturday, I ran around that dang thing 31 times.  It took me nearly 7 hours and I used my car as my personal aid station.     I
Read more

Mendon Ponds 50k Race Report

My day started early.  5:30 am to be exact.  My husband's extreme dislike of Saturday morning alarm clocks resulted in a literal  kick in the butt that got me moving.  It's time to race.  I know this drill:  re-think what I'm going to wear, put the things in my pockets that I ALWAYS forget,  grab my running backpack, ultra tackle box, breakfast and head out the door.  I'll use the drive time to fine tune my race strategy and supply needs. I arrive 20 minutes before the start.  I see hills and frost, better get the gloves and the light coat.  I grab my timing chip and race number and huddle at the start.  I scan the field.  No newbie's here.  People know each other, they are in mis-matched clothing, and they are lean.   Many wear shirts from the Sehgahunda trail marathon.  One lady said it was tougher than Ironman.  I make a mental note, I'm running Sehgahunda. Without fanfare, the race director tells us the trail is being run in reverse direction, reminds
Read more

My Life as a Dirty Girl

            100 miles.  The first time I attempted the distance, I left the course with kidney stones after 55 miles.  The first time I wanted to quit running all together was on the Dirty Girl course last year.  I completed an ultra there, but got lost and defeated.  “This is stupid.” I told my friends.  I was going to put away my running shoes and move on to other things. Three wonderful people gently coaxed me back.  (Thank you Roger, Kris and Denise)  I decided to take my two biggest running defeats and make the Dirty Girl my first 100-mile race.          The race got in my head.  I trained rigorously.  I was consumed by it during the weeks leading up to it.  I’d gone 75 on a nice flat course, but this would be different.  Roger describes it perfectly “ I hate the Dirty Girl course. It just goes up, down, left, right constant switchbacks and single track. It's was tough for me to get in the groove last year. No long stretches to put it in cruise.”          Before the race
Read more