Griffith Park 50K 2018

As I was running, I thought of a few phrases to describe this race:

• The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly
• A Day in a Mud Bath
• The Dirty 30

There was a chance rain would show up, but there was also a chance it wouldn’t. Usually, when rain is in the forecast it becomes a case of “I’ll believe it when I see it” but I figure I’ll be on the safe side and plan for it.

Just in case there was a serious downpour early on, that would eventually stop – yes, I imagined this happening – I decided last minute to take a drop bag to add an extra pair of socks and a dry shirt. This would’ve been great had I not forgotten said drop bag at home. Oops. I could’ve gone back home to retrieve it, but I would’ve been cutting it very close to getting back before the 6 AM start time.

Lining up I saw a couple of familiar faces and got to see my trail and Instagram friend, Tam.

As Keira Henninger was giving us her instructions, my mind began to wander…Did I just seriously overdress? I was going to drop off my extra layers in my drop bag. That drop bag I forgot. That drop bag could’ve come in mighty handy on a day like today. Wait, what did she say about the cutoff time?

We took off and I tend to use the first mile or two to warm up and ease into the groove of things. While I felt chilled, the humidity was noticeable. However, there wasn’t a drop of rain and the cloudy skies started to clear up and the sun began to shine through. It was warming up.

“I’m glad I wore a tank top,” one young lady said to me.

Great. So much for planning for rain. Guess I’m gonna have to wear all that I’m wearing because my drop bag is all nice and cozy at home.

Reaching the Joe Klass aid station at around 4 miles, I didn’t stop. I didn’t even stop at the first aid station because I don’t even remember seeing it. But here, I had plenty of water and CarboPro with me.

At this point, I was warmed up. I took off my arm sleeves and tucked them into my pants. I would not be unloading them into my drop bag at the next aid station. That would be too easy and this race was not going to do me any favors.

Just before getting to the next aid station at Bird Sanctuary, as I was running down the hill, I noticed some woman sitting in a chair. I stared at her. She stared back. And then I yelled out, “Hey! Heather!” Thanks for directing us where to go.

When I reached the aid station at Bird Sanctuary, I still had plenty of water and CarboPro with me and continued to make my way up the single track; noticing the grey cloudy skies had returned.

It was during this stretch the rain sprinkles began to fall. Not bad. Not heavy. Feels like they would stop at any moment. But they didn’t. More of them fell. And harder. And faster. Here we go.

The trails in Griffith Park are well-maintained and are heavily trafficked in parts. I wasn’t worried about any technical sections in this course. I knew I wouldn’t see any technical trails that remotely resembled the ones at Sean O’Brien (SOB). But adding the rain on top of these trails, still made me cautious of where I was landing.

Returning from the Griffith Observatory, the rain was heavy. I put my hood on over my head and used my Buff to cover my ears. My arms sleeves were still off. Would they just get soaked and weigh my arms down and make me colder? Maybe. Maybe not. But I never put them back on for the rest of the race.

The Griffith Park 50K course had a nice mixture of ascent and descent throughout. Unlike SOB, there were no long, never-ending climbs that lasted for miles and were on the verge of breaking your spirit. Go up, and soon you can expect to go down. It was great.

When I reached the next aid station on Mount Hollywood Drive, I filled up with water and CarboPro. The next stretch was going to be single track on Mount Chapel Trail which leads to the road that leads us to the Hollywood Sign.

The rain was coming down lightly and even though I had gloves on, my hands were cold. Thankfully, I kept those gloves on.

I should note there may be an expletive (or two) coming up.

I made my way up the single track and I was immediately met with some thick mud and rocks that I needed to maneuver through. Shit. Well, that was quick.

Last year, just before I volunteered for this race, I was out on a trail run here and decided to check out this little portion of the course. It was a hot day and shortly after I started on the Mount Chapel Trail, quite a few lizards were darting across from me.

The trail began to narrow and all I kept thinking about was, what if one of those lizards becomes a snake? I turned around. Never actually got across the whole thing. Nope. Wasn’t going to change that one. There would be another day for me to embark on this trail. And that day was now, but this time, there was no fear of snakes. Just the fear of falling down a mountain.

It wasn’t long before I knew this section was going to be tough.

I didn’t go far when I started to slip and lose balance. Grabbing onto the brush on my right side was of little help since it broke off easily. Looking over to my left side there was a drop and more brush, and if it was anything like the kind I tried to grab onto, it too, would break off easily and there I would go down the mountain.

How long is this section? Does this mud ease up at all? How long is this going to last? The duration depended on how fast I could move and I wasn’t able to move much or that quickly.

When I started on it, the rain was light, more like a drizzle, but it didn’t make a difference. The trail was already coated with thick, mucky, slippery, treacherous mud.

I could see where others have stepped and where others have slid. I didn’t see any tracks of where someone veered off the side of the mountain, and that was a good sign.

The mud started to coat my shoes and my feet sunk into it. The mud wanted to suck the shoes off my feet. Schlurp. Schlurp. The sound of me picking my feet up with each efforted step.

Moments later it started to rain harder.

I wanted to be done with this section. My only saving grace was the few trees that allowed for more stable balance and support, and a couple of people who would tell me it doesn’t last long much longer. There was even a “runnable” section coming soon. Hallelujah.

This section was only about half a mile long, but it took me close to 30 minutes to cross it. One way.

My hopes and dreams of winning this race were dashed. Ok, there were no hopes and dreams.

The rain didn’t let up, but the mud luckily did. It was still slippery, but not as thick.

I made it off the trail and onto the road up to the Hollywood Sign.

Up to the Sign was all uphill road. As I approached the volunteer in the yellow rain slickers, I thought oh great she’s gonna give me my bracelet and I can run back down, but nooo she told me, “Up to the blocks and back down to me.”

I got up to the cinder blocks and there was nobody there. You mean, I could’ve stopped at the first “L” and turned around???

Yeah, I probably could have, but it was so rainy and foggy, that I couldn’t even see the HOLLYWOOD sign.

I ran back down to the volunteer in the yellow slicker and she handed me my bracelet that said “I Made It To The Hollywood Sign,” and back down the road I went.

And then the thought of going through this mucky muddy mess again, not only made my feet sink but my heart too. At that moment, I wondered why this section wasn’t diverted. I would have most gladly run another 5.36 miles out of my way just to avoid this section again.

Shortly after embarking on it, I saw Tam coming up towards me. As she passed, she said, “Remember 1:30 is the cutoff time.”

“1:30?” I asked, “Is that today, or tomorrow? Because I could still be out here.”

There was a woman who came upon me who wasn’t too pleased with this section either as she recently broke her arm falling on a trail in similar conditions. Ouch. As she was telling me what happened, her feet slid out from under her and down she went, falling forward that could have easily injured her more. I sure hope she didn’t suffer any repercussions from that.

I wasn’t doing too well myself. My shoes were so caked up with mud I couldn’t get any traction.

There was a moment that was almost quite comical. As my hands lay upon the mountainside to my left, my right foot slid down. I moved it up to take a step and as I did, my left foot slid down. I moved my left foot up to take a step, and then my right foot slid back down. This went on for a few rotations. Back and forth. Right foot and left foot trading their sliding time.

“You okay?” someone asked as they approached me.

“Oh yeah. Just trying to get my bearings.” Thanks for asking by the way.

Eventually, the slipping and sliding on this mucky terrain was over. As I made my way back into the aid station on Mount Hollywood Drive, the volunteer said, “Wasn’t that fun?”

I replied, “My shoes got dirty!!!”

We all had a big laugh. Yes, I could laugh about it now. After the fact. Not in the moment. At the moment, I was just trying to get through that section without dislocating any knees, breaking any arms, twisting any ankles, or falling to my death. The chances of that last one happening were probably slim, but the fear was all too real in my head during that section.

I quickly kept going past the station and eventually headed up some short single track where the volunteer pointed out, “It’s raining again.” I said, “Yes, just like the song!” Through the rain, I heard crickets. He probably had no idea I was referring to the song by Supertramp. Or maybe he did.

But, yes he was correct. It was raining again. The rain was off and on for most of the race, but after this short light shower, it was all over. However, the damage was already done. There was plenty of mud remaining, and still slippery mud to be had.

I had dropped my empty Huma gel packet on the ground and for a split second, I didn’t want to pick it up. But seeing as I don’t want to litter on the beautiful trails and it irks me when people intentionally do, I retrieved my dirty packet from the mud put it back in my vest, and continued down the single track back to the Bird Sanctuary.

There were a couple of hikers making their way up towards me and we were both in this muddy area. I stopped to see if they wanted to go on ahead and pass, but they decided to stop and have me continue proceeding down the trail.

As I took a step, I caught a slippery patch and as if in slow motion I could feel my body getting closer to the ground, and down I went.

I looked at them. They looked at me.

“Well, that was the most graceful fall I’ve seen,” the young woman said to me.

I honestly don’t know if I and the word graceful have ever been mentioned in the same sentence before, but I appreciate the words. I could only imagine the amount of mud I got caked on me, but I’ll be honest, not bad at all.

I should pause here and mention, I’m surprised I didn’t take a bigger fall earlier! I mean, seriously. If there was a more opportune time for me to eat mud, it would’ve been on that Chapel Trail.

When I reached the Bird Sanctuary again – by the way, I didn’t see any birds here – I used the restroom but didn’t stop for any refills of anything.

I saw Heather again in her post. She said I was doing great and all I could think about was finishing before the cutoff time. She asked me how many more miles I had to go. Uhh, 10? 12? 15? I had no idea. I should mention here that during these things, I can’t do math. Seriously. I can’t count. I can’t subtract. I can’t do integrals or derivatives. If there was a math test during these ultras I would surely fail. That is unless I had a calculator, and that’s a big MAYBE right there.

When I made it to the Joe Klass aid station, I knew I was ahead of the cutoff time. I refilled up with CarboPro and water and was off like a wild banshee because I knew I had some nice stretch of downhill coming up.

Well, it was nice but it was also slick and then there were more muddy patches.

When I reached the end, I saw a male and female about to go through that muddy grassy area but decided to veer off onto the gravel side. “Everybody else is doing it,” I heard the guy say. Which was true. There were a couple of ladies behind me who also took some reprieve from the mud.

When I reached the top of the hill, I was greeted by Jesse, Keira’s husband. I said something like, this section needs an escalator. To which he replied, “The escalator is always there in your mind.”

It’s true. Our mind can lift us and will our bodies to do pretty much anything.

I made it to Amir’s Garden, greeted the volunteer, crossed over the volunteer’s makeshift turnaround line, and turned around. It was time to go home! Only about 3 more miles to go until I got there.

As I was returning from Amir’s Garden, a couple of guys were running on the side of me. As they ran up, one of them looked over to me and asked, “Do you have a blog?”

Did he just ask me if I have a blog?

“Do I have a blog?” I asked him. “Yes, I do.”

“You did Javelina and Sean O’Brien,” he said.

Whenever someone mentions my blog or a post they’ve read or have seen one of my YouTube videos (which I haven’t made in a long while) it always surprises me, but I also have a deep honest sense of appreciation.

So I’m gonna give a shout-out to Shinya who just finished the Sean O’Brien 100K last month. I probably misspelled your name, but thank you!

When I reached that muddy grassy area I skipped along the side of it on the gravel part and ran down. It probably saved me an extra 10 minutes, if not longer. I also probably added some extra distance in there as well, but not much.

When I reached the compost center aid station, I did something I never did. I asked how much further to the finish. I honestly don’t ever ask this question because for one, I should do my homework before I start this race and don’t leave it up to someone else to tell me these things, and two, people have usually offered up this information before I even leave the aid station so there’s never been a reason for me to ask. At least that’s been my experience.

The gentleman conjured up “about 2 miles,” to which a woman replied, “It seemed longer than 2 miles when we were coming up.” This felt accurate as well. It did seem longer but turns out it was about 2 miles.

When I crossed the finish line, Keira handed me my two medals and a pint glass which I LOVE! Good call!

“Did I win?” I joyfully asked.

Turns out, I did! Okay, I didn’t. But I did win more love and appreciation for these trails.

This race couldn’t have been more different than Sean O’Brien for me. I got through this race without any stomach discomfort or nausea like I had at Sean O’Brien which probably attributed to a couple of factors.

At Sean O’Brien I had heat, and here, the heat was never going to be a factor. Plus I didn’t eat any solid food at any of the aid stations on this day. I stuck with water, CarboPro, salt tabs, one Huma gel, and a few pieces of Run Gum. All of these kept me solid for 30 miles.

I honestly do believe you learn something at every race, regardless if it’s a race you’ve done before. It doesn’t matter. Sure, you may have done the course before, maybe even seen some of the same people, but the elements will never be the same.

This year’s Griffith Park 50K taught me and made me realize even more that, I can do hard things. I should already know this, and part of me does, because I’ve done plenty of hard things in my life, and I’ve endured difficult times that seem never-ending.

When faced with harsh obstacles that seem too difficult to get out of, with a bit of patience and perseverance (and some faith), I can get through them. It took an extremely slippery muddy trail to help make me realize that even more, but lessons can come from anywhere.

After all was said and done, I had an amazing time! I honestly enjoyed myself out there and look forward to doing this race again! Rain and all. What a day that was.

Thank you to Keira Henninger, and all her fantastic volunteers and aid stations for their support, and encouragement. These races don’t all happen by themselves so thank you to everyone who had a hand in it, even Mother Nature for the fabulous weather. And finally, Congratulations to everyone who toed the line on that day!

And thank you for reading!