Mile 11.6 to Mile 17.9: Yamacraw Bridge Aid Station
The next six miles were a mix of rolling undulations along the Big South Fork, slogs through muddy trail sections, and multiple creek crossings; just the kind of delightful variety that separates ultra runners from mere mortal marathoners.
The chill of early morning had long since been replaced by a thick humidity. Despite the added weight of soaked shoes and socks, the cool water at each crossing felt refreshing on my abused feet.
On the trail, I kept noticing how people I had initially passed were now passing me. Some of them not apparently in as good of shape as me, either. I checked my ego, reminding myself that this was my race to run and not to be bothered by the performance of others, but then, another question crept in as I ambled along on my bad knee: what if I don’t make the 11-hour cutoff time? All the training. The miles. The expense. The imposition on others. A lot of effort with less than nothing to show.
The scenarios raced through my mind as I picked my way through slick, off-camber rocks and muddy trail sections. If I was still on the trail after 6:00 PM, would I keep running despite the race being over? Would I quit and attempt to find a shuttle back to the finish? All the pre-race information indicated there was ZERO grace for late performances.
Will I Get Yamacrushed?
My pace slowed even more in this section and I could tell that Andy and Jake were noticing it, too. The discomfort had become so great in my knee, that not only now was it burning by default, but the trauma of every footfall resulted in a sudden burst of acute pain. I was compensating so much that I feared creating a new injury from my altered gait.
The friendly volunteers, peanut M&Ms, dill pickles & brine, a couple bags of Lay’s potato chips (crushed first to eat faster) at the Yamacraw Bridge aid station were a welcome distraction. Jake and Andy parked on the far side of the bridge and had some music going, collapsible chairs out, and ice at the ready. I chowed on the ice and took in some protein via a Chocolate Pretzel Crunch Level-1 bar.
Think I’ll Just Sit Here
“Guys, this knee is killing me.” I finally admitted as I slouched down into a chair.
“Are you thinking you’re going to be able to make it? What do you need?” Andy questioned.
“I think I’m good. I’m just trying to focus on the parts of my body that don’t hurt and trying not to take a spill. It’s slowing me down to intervals of walking. I am afraid I’m drifting dangerously close to that 11-hour cutoff, though.” I answered.
I could have lived in that folding chair on the side of Kentucky highway 92 for the rest of my life at that point, but knowing the clock was ticking, I collected myself and ambled along down the gravel road. A dark hole in the forest opened up access back onto the Sheltowee Trace Trail and back to more grinding. I was really beginning to question just how badly I wanted to become an ultra runner.
15 more miles and two aid stations remain on the Yamacraw 50K! You can’t quit now! Join me for Part VII: Corporeal White Noise and find out what other issue befalls me on the trail!
Want a refresher on the previous section? Jump back to Part V: A Real Kentucky Waterfall.
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