Blue Ridge Virtual Double Marathon

13 minutes.

That’s how long it took me to get out of bed. Down the stairs. And to the coffee.

And then several more minutes to figure out how to transport the coffee to my chair without the full use of my left leg.

Because my dumbass thinks she’s still 43. Or however old I was the last time I ran the Blue Ridge Double.

It started off ok.

Met my Tiny Brazilian at Day Creek at 4am. And took off up Blackhorse Gap.

And she was chatty. And it was dark. These two things serve to distract from the bullshit climbing you’re doing for 2 1/2 miles up that ugly ass fire road.

Hit the Parkway. Where the cyclone was waiting on us.

Look, y’all. The wind has been blowing. Very aggressively. For a solid month.

If y’all don’t stop polluting shit and killing our planet. I’ll never be able to use the cool fire pit that came with Lagertha.

At any rate. We hit the Parkway. And TB says, “Which way do we go?”

…dude. So…you agreed to be the sole escort, in the dark, before society and emergency services are awake, for the girl who is very decidedly not allowed on trails by herself. And you…don’t know the way??

We’re just…trusting that I’ll get us through this.


But we managed to make our way across the top of the mountain. Or whatever Day Creek is. And the wind was just getting aggressiver.

And we were getting colder.

It got a little dicey around Hammond Hollow. Where I was afraid we’d made the dreaded left turn. And would end up on the bottom fire road trying to claw our way back up Spec Mines.

But we managed to make it over to Bobblett’s Gap. Somehow.

And started down the fire road.

And TB asked how I was feeling.

Well, my left hip flexor hurts.

“Oh no! Already??”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her it had started hurting a few miles back.

We finally made it back to my car. Shortly after sunrise.

Where TB handed me off to Beautiful Beastie. For another climb up Blackhorse Gap.

And I had hoped that the sun would calm the winds down and warm life up a little bit.

It didn’t.

Around mile 22. BB asked how I was doing.

Well, my left hip and right knee hurt.

So we stopped and stretched a bit. Which really just served to piss my left hamstring off. To the point that she began threatening to cramp up every few miles.

And we made it over to that bullshit Glennwood Horse Trail. Which had way more climbing than it should.

And around 2 miles in. BB said she was pretty sure we were done climbing.

And then 3 1/2 miles in we were climbing again.

I’m climbing, BB. Why am I climbing?

She couldn’t hear me. Because she’s a strong climber. So she was probably already back to her car at that point.

And I just couldn’t imagine. Making another loop of this.

So, we decided that I’d finish this loop out. With 31 miles.

And then head home to get the last 21.4 in around my house.

And that’s where it all starts to fall apart.

I made it home. And the moment I got out of the car. My left hip was like, “Cool. Let’s go lie down.”

But instead I started running.

And she was like, “Bitch. What. Are you doing?”

I tried running at first.

But left hip was like, “No.”

So I walked.

Just walked in random circles around my neighborhood.

By mile 40. Life was not looking great.

My period decided that was the perfect time to make a surprise appearance.

To which TB responded, “You don’t need that blood anyway.”

Fall Risk and Rogue checked in. About the time I was just wandering around my backyard trying to figure out if I could do 12.4 miles back there.

Meanwhile the entirety of my being. Both inside. And out. Was coated with pollen.

I was just smoker’s coughing my way through the day.

Peeing a little each time.

My cats were just following me around. Wanting to know if they should call someone.

Lagertha was getting annoyed. “Look. Just come inside. The neighbors are watching.”

At one point. I just laid down.

And just stared up at the sky contemplating my life choices.

Until I finally pulled my way up off the ground. And headed back out for my last 12.4 miles.

Which is when the neighbors started questioning me.

“Girl, you ok? What are you doing? I keep seeing you go by. Shouldn’t you be running?”

That is debatable, Joseph. But I’m 42 miles into a 52.4 mile ultra. Running is an impossibility at this point.

“Aren’t you tired?”

Becky, I’m exhausted. I would like to just go home now.

Did a few loops past the dude that was smoking weed out on his front porch. Thinking maybe the contact would distract my hip from whatever crisis she was going through.

But my limp was getting more pronounced.

And it was no longer just happening on the downhills. Or uphills. But just always.

By mile 45. She had entirely seized up. So that I had to kind of drag my left leg along behind me. Just to make it back to Lagertha.

You ever seen Men in Black? The giant cockroach alien wearing the Edgar suit? That is how I was walking.

So I went inside and managed to get myself down onto the floor to try to stretch out my hip.

To maybe finish the last 7.4 miles.

But left hip had definitely taken control of decision making.

And said, “I’m the captain now. You stay our ass right here.”

So that’s it.

I DNF’d on a fucking virtual race.

45 miles. Of a 52.4 mile race.

And I couldn’t eek out the last 7.

And today. I have to figure out how to make left hip work my clutch so I can go to my eye appointment.

Otherwise, we’re gonna have to walk there.

And nobody wants that option.

Leave a Reply