The Mummy broke me. Sometimes I should probably dig a little deeper and excavate jist what I’m getting into for a race rather than just signing up because the dates work.
Overheard this morning at packet pickup while a few of us were admiring the not-to-scale course map:
Woman: Oh, that’s where i had to hurdle that dead turkey last year.
Man: I tied some ropes on a few of the hills to help with the climb.
Race Director: This is definitely the toughest course yet; I’d really be surprised if anyone finishes in under 4 hours. My general rule is that you should at least an hour to your road race time.
***
There are ten hills from mile 4 to mile 7.25 of each loop. Each one is a challenge onto itself… and hushed whispers about the Mummy Hill proved oversold… but only because there was a rope to help pull oneself up the incline. I found others much more difficult but the cumulative effect was devastating.
To be honest, the biggest problems for me was worrying about tripping over tree roots, foliage, fallen tree trunks. By the second loop however, EVERYTHING was a problem.
I didn’t take a lot of photos… partly because there was no way to capture the experience. To really understand and appreciate the hardships, the struggles, you really had to be there.
But between gingerly picking my way along the course and stopping to gasp for air or to stifle a defeated sob, I did snap a few “WTF?!” shots – “What the fool (I am)” shots.
In the end, I wound up in 11th place overall, down from 7th at the halfway mark. That second loop was mostly me alone in the woods, with only 4 runners seen as they flew past me. There were only two aid stations and I was severely dehydrated through most of loop 2, gulping down water and refilling my bottle at the aid stops, only to then drain my carried h20 in short order after passing out of sight of the station.
It took me so long that I got into some trouble with my AirBNB; I was WAY past the check out time when I got back and felt so guilty that I gave them an extra $30 so i could get a shower before heading to the airport. Sometimes a shower is worth $30.
As an aside, I thought the race name was surprisingly befitting. As I was trudging through the water crossing to the finish line, I was lumbering like Boris Karloff or a CGI updated Mummy.
Uhhhnnn. Uhhhhnnn.
That might be more Frankenstein’s Monster. What’s the mummy sound like? Probably muffled and mumbling as he speaks through his bandages.
Something to ponder as I curl up in the fetal position in my window seat out of Grand Rapids, haunted by visions of the embalmed.