(I Once Was) Tough Enough

The “Tough Enough” race is coming up soon, and if you’re considering forming a team, DO IT. It is tough, but it’s also loads of fun. I ran it in 2006 with Gina Fennell, Monica DeVreese, Mariann Thomas and Jill Ireland, and I’d say it ranks up there in my top three racing experiences, for the fun-factor, the beauty, the team building and the food. The Savoy Truffle spread at the end is well worth haulin’ your heinie up and over our lovely mountains. And if you’re in it to win (which I discovered halfway through what was supposed to be a ‘fun little jaunt,’ we were) well…so much the better for your adrenalin and heart rate.

When I saw that the race was coming up again, I got all reminiscent and misty-eyed (I ran leg 6, which was gritty and dusty), and dug out my race report. Here’s my unedited, stream of consciousness play-by-play. If it nudges you towards making the decision to run it, fantastic. And if it gives you the urge to wash my mouth out with soap, I blame Mariann. She started all the cussing.

April Fool’s Day, 2006

Here’s my report from the front. What an awesome race…65 miles from Toro Canyon Park up over the mountain to La Cumbre Peak, on up to the high point at Broadcast Peak, then down through Solvang to Nojoqui Falls Park. We each ran 2 out of 10 legs. We WON. Not just the women’s division, but the whole bloody race! 9 hours, 4 minutes. Hurray for our team, “The Valkyries.”

We had a planning meeting Thursday at lunch, when we figured out driving logistics, etc. Gina made some very impressive spreadsheets for us. The race started at 7 a.m. at Toro Canyon Park, so we decided Mariann would drive herself there. Rain predicted–yikes!–but we awoke to clear skies. Mariann did Leg 1 over Mountain Drive to Cold Springs Trail, Monica picked up Leg 2 over Mountain up Gibraltar, then Mariann finished the Gibraltar ascent in Leg 3 to La Cumbre Peak–the steepest leg (Go Mariann!). Jill ran Leg 4, down East Camino Cielo to 154, nine miles of pounding downhill…ouch!

Meanwhile, I had a leisurely morning and picked Gina up at 9:30 in Patty Bryant’s Xterra 4×4, which she was kind enough to lend me so we could traverse the backside of Refugio Road (unmaintained and supposedly impassable) into Santa Ynez Valley instead of driving all the way around via 101 and 126.

We were supposed to pick up Jill and drop me with Mariann, who would drive me to the start of my leg while Monica ran Leg 5. We were early, so we tootled up West Camino Cielo to see where Jill was. Of course, we ran into Jim Kornell, the race director, who had just spoken to Lisa Welch (team captain of “Girls Kick Ass”–our competition). He said the women’s teams were leading, and it was very, very close–2 minutes max differential between US and THEM. We watched as a tiny blue speck appeared on the horizon. Who was it? Lisa? Leah? Jill? She got closer, and we thought we all recognized Leah’s distinctive lope…but it turned out to be our Jill! She’d opened up our lead to about 5 minutes.

(Interject here–when we got across 154 to make the car/people switch, Mariann runs up, violently motions us to roll down our window, sticks her head in and yells “We’re gonna win this f*ckin’ race! We’re gonna f*ckin’ WIN!” Talk about pre-race anxiety…before this, it had all been “Just take it easy, it’s just a nice run with the girlfr’ens…” Yeah, right. At some critical point, she flipped over from “easy” to “hard core.” Now it was a RACE. Hoo, boy, the pressure’s ON.)

Monica ran Leg 5 up to the gun club–a hard, uphill grind for 4 of 5 miles. She kinda looks like she’s hurting when we pass her in the SUV. I’m starting to hyperventilate from nervousness…can I do this? Am I going to let the team down? Meanwhile, while I wait for Monica to tag me, I talk to someone who says Refugio IS impassable–she went up there last week and couldn’t get through the barricades. Uh oh. Our handoff depended on getting through in time. We’ll see…

Monica looks strong as she blasts up to the handoff point. I’m off on leg 6, an 8 mile (later I find out it’s 9!) fire trail run, the unpaved portion of Camino Cielo to Refugio Road, up to Santa Ynez Peak, almost a 2000 foot elevation gain. The first mile is straight downhill, hard on the quads. I feel good, though. The uphill starts, not really a grind, but a gradual, definite climb. The footing is not bad at all; in fact the road is driveable, and I meet up with one jeep and two motorcyles. It’s rocky and precipitous at times, but mostly stable. But the view, the view…I break out into sobs, and song, as I run this glorious saddle. On one side of me is blue, lazy Cachuma Lake, and on the other, 4000 feet below in the distance, is the Pacific Ocean. What have I done to deserve such happiness?

But it’s getting hard. My pacing is even, but the relentless uphill grade is taking its toll. By mile 6, I’m digging in. By mile 7, I know I’m close, and I see the TV tower where my handoff is. Thank god it’s almost over. I finish mile eight, ready to stop.

But wait…I approach the fork at Broadcast Peak, where my runner is supposed to be waiting, and it’s deserted. WTF?!! What happened? Where are they? I run up the fork, thinking perhaps they’re behind the TV tower. Nope. Maybe they crashed! Maybe the road was impassable! Maybe…I waste TEN MINUTES running up and down the fork, trying to think what to do, then I just…go on. Now I’m ready to break out into sobs of frustration. I run another mile (ALL uphill, ALL hard) and finally find them at the next fork. F*ck! Hell! Damn! I tag Jill and we’re both apologizing to each other, even though it was Kornell’s fault for directing them, or me, to the WRONG fork. She takes off like a bat outta hell (I later learn she has egg-sized blisters on both arches), and two minutes later, the COMPETITION arrives! Holy hell! And it’s all my (but mostly Kornell’s) fault! I gun the car, zoom down to Jill, yell “It’s really a race now, baby!” and go on.

I get down to the West Camino Cielo/Refugio Road intersection (7 miles), scream at Kornell, get Gina all anxious, and then realize it’s just a stupid fun glorious relay race, after all. Jim says well, these things happen, and he’s right. He promises to change the course description for next year. I calm down, but Gina has the fear in her. Jill comes around the bend with a 5 minute lead (awesome, Jill) and Gina takes off like Atalanta going after the apples, running Leg 8 down Refufio Road, 6 miles. Jill and I jump in the 4×4 and head down Refugio, wondering: will we make it past the barricades? I’m ready to blast out if need be and run to the handoff.

On the bumpy, rutted road down (thanks for the 4x, Patty!), we pass Kelly, the competition, but we can’t find Gina. Where the hell is she? Damn, she’s rocketing! What if she makes it before the handoff? Oh hell! There’s the “barricade”…so called. Turns out it’s a minor obstacle, and I cruise around it like nothin’. Gina is a demon. We finally catch and pass her, but she’s running tough; it’s scaring me: the next leg is mine. We hand off at the bridge before the Santa Ynez River, and I’m running hard. Pavement, cars, straight lines–nothing like my last leg. This is serious traffic on a serious highway. The two Girlfriend Cars go by, tooting and waving, and I’m energized. I finish Leg 9 in something like my 10K pace, which feels amazing after the previous leg. After I tag Gina and she peels off, I’m told we’re a MILE ahead of the next runner. Cool!

Gina takes the last leg in stride, and the Valkyries finish first of all teams, 10 minutes ahead of “GKA.” We won the race! And notably, the women’s teams came in 1-2 ahead of mixed and mens.

Next year: I don’t screw up the handoff, and we better our time.