I am nothing if not predictable. After DNF'ing at Run Rabbit Run I decided I just HAD to have a qualifier for Western States. I would do ANYTHING to get that qualifier. I would even run in the heat, multiple laps, in the desert at the end of October.
Yes, I signed up for Javelina Jundred. I really thought it would be a piece of cake. All I had to do was run for 100 miles in 30 hours while surviving the warm day and nice evening. I prepped for the heat: I ran in the afternoons wearing three layers of shirts and long pants, even though it was in the 60's or even 70's. I begged Heidi to pace me, and stupidly, she agreed. I drove the trailer to Phoenix and admired the saguaro and hoped I wouldn't see any rattle snakes.
I started off at a nice little clip, one I was sure I could maintain forever. And I did maintain it, but not quite for forever. More like 50 miles. Then I ran out of gas. Yes, it was warm but not horrible. I just quit eating around mile, maybe mile 2. By 60 miles, I was on fumes and by 70 miles I was reduced to begging a man dressed as a care bear to put me out of my misery. I packed it up and headed home.
I was quite happy making a decision to "never try another 100 miler." Why would I? I was happy thinking I could run 50 milers. I swore I would be content with 50 milers. Until I saw this new race in the La Sals. The Ute 100. Sure looks like fun to me. The race director swears that he has found a beautiful course. I have always wanted to explore those mountains outside of Moab. And the cut off time is definitely in my favor. In fact, there are six (count them....6) women over 60 signed up for this little sweet heart of a run. I will be in good company.
Yep, I signed up. I am in. I can't say no.