Rocky Raccoon Endurance Trail Run

Saturday, one week ago, I went to Huntsville State Park to test myself with a 50Mile trail run.

I say test, as its my first 50 Mile and because I have been pretty lazy lately and not training. Even for the Bandera 50K, which is why it took me over 8 hours to finish it. This will come back to haunt me. Or more specifically, it will haunt my feet, knees and quads.

My friend Nancy Hogan approached me back in October about the Rocky 50 Mile. She wanted to complete one before she was 50, which is in April. I thought about it briefly, then said ‘Sure, I’ll go.’ If I can’t hack the distance this time, I’ll still have 2 years to get my own 50 before 50. Or as jt tells me, then I'll know how bad I'll bonk.

I rode down with Nancy and another NTTR member Jennifer. We hit the hotels first, then headed out to the park to pick up packets and hear the pre-race meeting. I’ve been on this trail before, as have both of these ladies, but we are all first timers at this distance, and the race director, Joe Prusaitis is pretty entertaining to listen to. There are some changes and new sections to tell us about.

The weather is great – Flip flops and a long sleeve, followed by a sweatshirt when the breeze off the lake got cool after dark.

Speaking of sweatshirts, because I registered late, I don’t get one that says Rocky Raccoon Endurance Run 50 Mile. Bummer. Although, I said I wasn’t doing it to get the sweatshirt, but boy it would have been nice to have. I spend the time during dinner trying to locate the colored duct tape we are supposed to label our drop bags with. Green for Dogwood, which is the start/finish area, and Blue for Dam Road, which is on the farthest point of the course and only 100 milers are allowed drop bags there.

Dam Road is being manned as always by NTTR, my home trail running club. There will be lots of people we know, which makes me happy!

Race packets in hand, we all pile back in the car and I have the girls drop me at my hotel. Jerry drove up from Austin, but got delayed by work and traffic and its 8:30 pm before he arrives. We trek across the back yard of the hotel and eat at Margaritas, which by the appearance of the parking lot, is THE place to be. And yes, I had one. Doesn't everyone drink the night before they run ultras!?

I spent my Jerry waiting time getting my race stuff ready. Clothes, which shorts, which shirt? Shoes, which socks (Geez. You have the same pair in black and in green, Red. Pick one, fer cryin’ out loud.)

Drop bag. I’ve only ever had to pack 2 drop bags since I started trail running and I’m just not quite sure what to put in the thing? A friend tells me whatever I DON'T have is what I will need. An extra pair of shoes, the other pair of socks, short-sleeved shirt, headlamp and flashlight, snack baggies of extra food.

Another bag for after. I know as soon as it gets dark, it will cool off and once I stop moving, my body temp drops quickly, more so when I’m tired. Slip-on shoes, convertible pants, and sweatshirt.

I don’t sleep well. It feels like I wake up constantly and when the alarm goes off, it just plain irritates me. Ugh. 5am is such an unfriendly hour.

Off we go. We are in the park in less than 15 minutes, arriving right after 6am and see the 100 milers on the trail, headlamps bobbing along between glow sticks. It looks so strange and I wonder what people who just happen along on a sight like that think. You really don’t hear the runners, other than an occasional cough. It’s as if they have made an unspoken agreement to be quiet today and they move along like ghosts. No conversation, muffled footfalls, only a string of lights and a line of shadows, and then all you see is the occasional glow stick. Bizarre.

It’s cool and humid, more so down by the lake. We find all our people, take pictures, laugh and joke and wait. There are 5 first timers for the 50-mile in our group and 2 more 1st time 100 milers we will be cheering on.



One of them, Carol, is being supported by a crew consisting of 5 of her lady friends, several of which are good friends of mine as well. They are VERY happy when I produce Jerry and let them know he’ll be hanging around all day. Well, at least he wont be bored.

The sun comes up while we are milling around and making noise. Unnoticed, sadly. Suddenly, it’s light. Time to go! We count, the gun goes off and away we go. It’s a balmy 60 degrees out.

50 Milers do three 16.62-mile loops. This area is piney woods and fairly flat. I said fairly. Don’t be thinking there aren’t any hills, because there are. They just aren’t Bandera Hills. And they got bigger and bigger every time I saw them.

It is a beautiful park. All the trail portions are single-track mountain bike trails, my favorite thing to run on. A good many of these are littered with pine roots. Lots of them. Some of the larger ones are so gnarly and intertwined they look like big snakes across the trail. Makes for treacherous footing. The trails wind in and out of the pine trees and along the lake. In places where the ground is soft and won't support a dirt trail; the park had built boardwalks. Pretty cool and there are a lot more of them than the last time I was on this trail. There is a section of jeep road as well, to get to Dam road aid station and then to get out.


The 5k to the first aid station passes quickly, on both the first 2 loops. It’s the rootiest section on the whole course, followed closely by a section on the back of the Dam road loop. The whole first loop itself passes by a lot faster than I thought it would. The weather is great, its already mid-60’s and the NTTR people at Dam road (which I see twice on each of the 3 loops) are all in rare form, laughing and joking. Fred Thompson and Lynn Ballard are hugging all the girls and Char and Tia and Paula Billman are yelling encouragement from under the tent.

I meet Mike on this loop, who is from Virginia and there are about 10 people from his running club here as well. We chat about random stuff, races, travel, pets, and life in general. On the jeep road section, we are joined by Tammy. Her shirt says so in giant sharpie letters. She is dressed entirely in pink, including her gators and has a ponytail holder that looks like a lei. I will see Tammy many times today.

I follow a girl wearing a prosthetic leg into Dogwood. One of those high-tech ones with the big curve on the bottom. I am completely amazed. What kind of cojones do you have to have to get out on a trail like this with a prosthetic leg? I am impressed and humbled. Here I am with my knee tweaking a little and this girl is out there picking her way down root traps in a prosthetic. Damn. I will continue to see this girl all day – and each time she inspires me. I just really can’t express in words how much I admire her and her will and heart.

I’m disappointed when I come in on the first loop to see that my time is like 3:47. I really don’t know what I expected. Eventually I quit comparing that time to my 25K loop here at the Hogs Hunt. It’s a different and longer course. I forget about it after mulling it over in the 2nd loop and concentrate on my beef jerky instead.

Everything feels good, I change into my short-sleeved shirt and Jerry starts out with me on the 2nd loop. We get to the 1st aid station and a there is Sam, a girlfriend from Houston. She wants a turn keeping me company on trail. We make a plan on where she will meet us, then Jerry and I go on for a couple more miles to a place he can get to the park roads easily and get back to Dogwood.

My feet are starting to complain now. I’m pretty sure I’m getting a blister on one of my toes and both my feet have that tingling burning sensation off and on. Not even half way into 2nd loop, missy. This time when I approach the Dam Road I can see Tom Crull standing in the road and he’s waving his arms around and doing that goofy whoo hooo palms toward the sky thing and hollering “ Bacchus Babe in da Howwwwsssse”. I can’t help but laugh at him and this now becomes the chant every time I come into this aid station. It gives me a much-needed boost.

I add ibuprofen to my repertoire of snacks and move along. I’m starting to get tired, feet hurt, legs and especially quads starting to hurt. On the way back through Dam road, I hear Tia asking if anybody needs ice. I run over and hold my jog bra open and she dumps a cup of ice in it. As I leave, I hear Char laughing and saying ‘Tia, you get all the fun jobs.’

The jeep road has now become my kryptonite. It mocks me. Tempts me into jogging instead, and then produces a hill. Incline, hill; same thing at this point. To make things worse, as you look forward on the jeep road, after a series of rolling portions, waaaaaay far up there, you see a glimpse of blue. Yea! Its Park Road aid station and Sam will be waiting.

No, fool. That is a highway sign you see, but you won’t know that until you’re 20 yards from it and when you get to it, you’re gonna turn your happy ass left and trudge down an abandoned park road that’s all asphalt chunks and pot holes for another mile. This Dam road to Park road section is 4 miles long and feels like 8.

I meet another gentleman from the east along this stretch. He’s from Boston and you can tell it the minute he opens his mouth. We chat and he tells me that he’s struggling and frustrated about the time this is taking him. He also makes sure I know he completed an Ironman in his glory days and this is taking longer.

This same gentleman sees me after we both finish and wants to know if the young lady that picked me up at Park Road was my daughter. ~sigh~ well, she could be, I guess. ☺ He was impressed that we both moved on so quickly at the time.

I catch Sam at Park road. It’s really good to see her. A quick trip to the porta potty and now my nose decides to bleed. WTF? Stoopid. We haven’t had a chance to catch up in a while and we have lots to talk about. I feel better and can actually jog along at a good pace and before I know it, we’re back in Dogwood. That’s the longest stretch of trail – 4.22 miles and except for this one trip, feels like 10 miles. It’s like that section of I-20 between Dallas and Shreveport. That is the longest 3 hours in history. It’s a beautiful trail, windy and rooty, and along the lake, but that is exactly what makes it seem so long. It’s also 2-way traffic, so because you are seeing people coming out, you keep expecting the Turn around to appear at each corner. Ever hopeful, and continually disappointed, until you actually make that last turn and see the line of poles and the start/finish line. Yee haw!

I’ve seen several of my buddies back and forth and they are all doing well. Tired but moving good. I have seen Carol twice and she looks she just stepped off the cover of Runners World – fresh, smiling and moving well. Her hair still looks good.

Saw Gordon Montgomery (100 M) on my way back in. He is on his way out. He looks uncomfortable and seems to be limping, not a good sign. I wish him well and will see him twice more before I finish. I hear Sunday that he stopped at just over 66 miles, his longest trail distance. Impressive, since his 100K finish at Bandera 3+ weeks ago was his first attempt at that distance.

HAVE to get these shoes off. They just aren’t good for distances over a marathon. They’re pretty stiff and more suited to the rocks of Bandera and Imogene, which is what I bought them for.

I’ve got a blister on one toe, one on the ball of my right foot and a hot spot on the ball of the left foot. Duct tape on all of them. Gail fixes me a baggie with cocoa butter to take with me in case the tape comes off.

Here is where I make my biggest mistake of the day. When I came in, I grabbed 2 cups of Gatorade and drank them right away. Happened to be purple, which is normally ok with me. As I left, I took a chocolate Ensure with me. I felt like I need something different in my stomach. Had enough trail mix and Pringles and bananas and oranges and pbj and jerky. It has a lot of potassium and protein in it as well. Can’t hurt. So I drink my ensure and it lands on top of that purple Gatorade and now my stomach is NOT happy.

Funniest thing I heard all day was here as well. While I’m sitting and fixing blisters, I had dumped a handful of fritos in the chair between my legs. As I’m finishing my prep to walk out, tying shoes, etc, I’m still eating them. My friend Gale looks at all of us and says “ You gotta love a girl who’ll dig fritos out of her nasty, sweaty crotch and eat them.” She’s something else.

I walk the entire first section to the next aid station. I stop every so often now and stretch my back and legs, because everything hurts. Poor Jerry. He’s following along, and I feel sure the slow pace is frustrating to him. My thoughts are consumed by what to do about my stomach. I really think I should just put my finger down my throat and get rid of it.

Blegh. I hate to puke, so I forge on. Make it to the aid station and hit the park bathroom. The water is ice cold and I spend about 5 minutes splashing it on my face and wrists and back of my neck. Much much better.

We pass the guys putting out glow sticks. I hadn’t thought about how time consuming that is until I watched for a minute. Those little strings on those things get all tangled up and I’m pretty sure somebody had to sit and string them as well.

I’m vaguely excited by the fact that everything from this point forward is my longest distance! However, all sense of time and distance measurement is totally gone. Neither Jerry nor I wear a watch, not that it’s going to matter now.

I’m excited now, even though I‘m really tired. This is the last time I will do this section runs through my mind as the miles crawl by. I know I’m going to make it. Just past this point is all new territory for Jerry, so we make small talk and visit and then we’re at Dam road. I get my usual greeting and now Bill Rumbaugh has put in appearance. Really good to see everybody. This little loop goes by quickly but by the time we get back we are both dragging. I say my goodbyes! I wont see them again; they yell Yea and Get out! And we’re off up the Jeep road for the last time.

The pace or extreme lack of it, finally gets to Jerry and he runs up ahead and back a few times. Must have been the coke at Dam road? I finally had to tell him to wait for me up ahead. It’s kinda demoralizing to see somebody zooming back and forth like that when you’re trudging up that damn Jeep trail. They don’t know he’s 2 loops fresher and he’s a strong runner anyway. He’s doing well – by the time we finish he will have 21 miles on his feet. And slow or not, 21 miles is 21 miles.

It gets dark as we turn the corner and head down chunky asphalt hell. The moon is full and already up. Any hope I have of jogging fades with the light. Too tired.

Last aid station. I am exhausted physically, but doing well mentally. Everything below my waist hurts. In fact, my ribs and diaphragm hurt. My elbows hurt. I hold out and don’t turn on my light until about 3.5 miles out. The moon is flying high, almost over the treetops and it is breathtaking. The temp, which had climbed to mid 70’s during the day, is cooling rapidly and it’s humid again.

I have to remind myself to appreciate where I am and what I’m doing, and not get bogged down by my physical discomfort. I stop to look at the moon a couple of times and catch Jerry looking back at me. He’s very patient with my little lapses and no forward motion. But I get the hint and start walking again.

As we follow the lake you can hear frogs and random birds and every once in a while, a random splash. Brings to mind the “Beware of Alligators” sign at the front of the park. Occasionally we walk through cool areas – must be an open avenue to the lake and the breeze is pushing the cool across the trail. It feels like when you’re swimming and you pass through a cool spot.

My light is necessary now. We are in the really rooty section and it would totally suck to twist an ankle right now. Jerry sets a pretty good walking pace and drags me right along. About a half a mile out he takes off to let the gang know I’m coming.

Finally! I round a corner and can jog again. Actually, I can’t believe I can jog at all, and I feel sure that I look completely retarded, but I really don’t care. I’ll be damned if I’ll walk across that finish line. I can see lights and hear noise and I am completely alone on the trail. Just Me, la Luna and the glow sticks. I can’t see another runners’ light anywhere around me.

It’s weird running into an aid station like this in the dark. Nobody can see your face – they see your headlamp bouncing along. You can’t see well yourself because you’re vision is focused on that light and the end in front of you. You see people peripherally, and vaguely hear then clap or yell as you pass by. Seems almost slow-motion as you approach; I notice nobody is in Carol’s TA and have time to note this and wonder where they all are, then suddenly it all speeds up and you’re in the light.

The end! I can’t help myself - an Aaaiiiieeeeee and a big Whoo Hoo burst out of my mouth and I’m bouncing across the mat! 3 seconds and Jerry puts an ice cold PBR in my hand and somebody puts a medal in the other and I’m Done! I did it! Official time 12:43.

Someone wants to take my picture in front of the finish sign. Someone else wants my timing chip. I want this beer really really bad. I grab Jerry and give him a huge hug and thank you! Jennifer is waiting there as well.

Over and over during the day I remarked what a great day it was. I’ll say it again – it was awesome. I’m really tired and over the course of the evening while we wait for our friends, I’m already getting stiff. My body is letting me know in no uncertain terms that I’m going to suffer for the demands I made on it today.

That’s the best PBR I’ve ever had. We wait for our friends. Jennifer did well – she ran a 9:40 despite being sidelined twice with a bad blister on one of her middle toes. She confesses, shamefaced, that she had a hissy fit in one of the said stations.

Our friend Linda, another first time 50miler, comes in right after me. She appears fine but within 30 minutes of finishing becomes dizzy and almost faints. Jerry and another volunteer carry her to the med tent, where they eventually get her stable enough to get in the car with Deborah. She's fine the next day.

Sylvia and Nancy come in within 10 minutes of each other, Nancy having taken a bad fall on a root in the last section. She chastises me for waiting – silly girl ☺.

Carol is out on the course and the rest of the girls are scattered at aid stations waiting for her.


Jerry and I head for town and some real food, neither of us having eaten anything substantial all day. Once there, only Whataburger presents itself as an option. Bags in hand, we get in the hotel and spread our feast out on the bed. Like my beer, it’s the best hamburger I ever had. Followed by the best shower I’ve ever had.

Great day, great race. Fantastic volunteers and a well run race, as always with Joe’s events. I got blisters, but they weren’t horrible, no chafing to speak of, and no real stomach upset beyond my Ensure/Gatorade issue. The trail itself is built for comfort and speed and I highly recommend it. It’s a good place not only for 1st time ultra distances, but for PR’s as well.

Jerry was awesome – I‘m so glad he was there. Same for Samantha. They both provided me with some much-needed energy and inspiration when I really needed it. And Carol’s crew was incredible. There isn’t one better.

One week later, I’m over any soreness and have been since Thursday. I should note that every toenail on my left foot is purple, with the exception of the pinky. I will more than likely lose at least 3 of them on that foot and 2 on the right foot. I have a toenail on the right foot that continues to be tender. Who knew sheets could hurt a toenail?? I didn’t sleep well for several days, unusual for me.

On another note: Carol does not make the noon cut-off on Sunday. In fact, it takes her until 5:30 pm Sunday to finish her 100 miles. She, her crew and the park rangers are the only people left in the park when she does finish. But she went every step of the way under her own power. I’m very proud of her.

Nancy has already announced that she is quite happy to cross this particular item off her list and she won’t be re-visiting.

Me? Well, I’m deciding what the next one will be.

Life is Good. Dirt and the trail community makes it so much Better.