During the first year in my recovery from brain injury it became clear that the longer I ran the happier my brain became. The first time I remember feeling really good, not just okay, but actually good, was after the North Fork 50k, my first post-injury ultramarathon. Josh and I were sitting on the porch of the cabin we had rented for the night and I can very clearly remember looking around at the birds and the trees and thinking that it was my first glimpse of how I felt before the crash. It was a brief feeling, and a horrible tease, but it made me desperately want to find that feeling again, and so I kept running. After my first 100 miler, I felt normal for several days. After my second 100 miler, it was almost 2 weeks!
Over the last 4 years, three 100 mile ultramarathons and numerous shorter ultramarathons later, getting back on the bike was still a struggle. This year I put in a lot of time and miles training to be able to ride again. Josh wanted to do the three day Ramble Ride together, and I made that my goal. Although I significantly improved with training, I continued to have issues, and only two weeks before the big event, I found myself sitting on the side of the road with nausea and vertigo, as symptomatic as ever. I wasn’t sure if the Ramble Ride was possible, but we headed out to see what would happen. As it turns out, I was somehow able to ride through some crazy terrain over those three days – washboard dirt roads, super rocky descents, and even winding singletrack.
Day One – Fort Collins to (just north of) Red Feather, 75 miles, 8200′ vertical gain, 9 hours (including stops)
On the morning of the first day, Josh and I headed out from the start about 10 minutes before the main group left. My goal was to get a bit of a head start, because I’m still not comfortable riding in a large pack. We began the climb up into the foothills, past Horsetooth Reservoir and Masonville, and continued through the next 10 miles of rattlesnake heaven. Without exaggeration, we saw 10 dead rattlesnakes and one live rattlesnake along this section. We also happened to discover the “way to patience”. Unfortunately, the route didn’t go that direction, so I still haven’t found it.
As the miles ticked by, the day became uncomfortably hot. During the second big climb I got a touch of heat stroke. Even stopping to dump water on my head frequently, I felt a little nausea and dizziness (although different than my standard brain injury symptoms), and my face was bright red. I’ve never tolerated heat very well. The last miles seemed to never end, and just when I thought we had finally reached camp, celebrating with a little “woo hoo”, I saw the “1 mile” to go sign and completely deflated. It doesn’t matter how far you are running or riding, when you think you are just about finished, and find out that you in fact still have another mile, it can be the longest mile of your life. We finally rolled into camp thrilled to find that friends had already grabbed our bags and set up our tent (it pays to ride with people faster than you). I collapsed into a chair with a cold Ginger Ale, which was followed by an even colder rinse off in the creek.
Day Two – Red Feather to Walden, 75 miles, 6,500′ vertical gain, 9 hours (including stops)
Although we started the chilly morning in jackets, we knew another hot day was ahead. Wanting to get both big climbs finished before the temperature rose too high, Josh and I opted not to wait around for breakfast. We ate some snacks, and were the first ones to roll out of camp, just after 6am. We made good time up to the Deadman Hill Summit, and enjoyed a beautiful descent down towards the Larimer River. This was probably my favorite part of the whole trip.
The second big climb of the day seemed to never end, and the reprieve finally came in the form of some wicked steep “rollers”. Right when you thought it was time to descend, along would come another punchy climb. Give me a long sustained climb any day over that up-down-up-down torture. Of course, when we got to the actual descent, I was begging for more climbing. The big descent towards Walden started with a ridiculously rocky “road”. Miraculously, I managed to ride all but about 5 yards of that section, when I decided a little hike-a-bike was the safer option. Seriously, I was riding a GRAVEL bike, not a chumble, boulder, rock bike. Josh loved that section, and was completely in his element. I didn’t get any photos of this section, because I was too busy trying not to get another brain injury, but Josh did get some video clips and I’ll share it once it is all put together.
Feeling huge relief when we reached the van for a water stop, I thought from there it would be a blissful fast cruise down all the way to Walden. Unfortunately, they were regrading the road, and had recently turned over the dirt, which made for a terrifying surfing descent. The dirt was so loose, there was nothing for the tires to grip, and we were truly surfing along for MILES, trying to keep the rubber side down. My hands cramped up from the constant breaking, even with frequent stops to shake them out. I breathed a sigh of relief when we made it out to the main road…that is until we were riding that road, in all it’s washboard glory. After the miles of surfing, and the subsequent miles of rattling and shaking along the washboard, cruising the last few miles of pavement into Walden felt amazingly smooth…and really, really long.
We cherished the opportunity to shower at the Walden Rec Center, and then grabbed french fries, fried pickles, and beer in a local restaurant while we waited for dinner at camp. We may or may not have gone back to that same restaurant after dinner to get dessert. As the sun started to set, that is when the mosquitoes realized the feast was on.
Day Three – Walden to Steamboat Springs, 52 miles, 3,300′ vertical gain, 6.5 hours (including stops)
The last day of the trip led us out of Walden and towards Buffalo Pass which would lead us into Steamboat Springs. The mosquitoes were straight out of a horror movie. Josh was riding in front of me and his entire back was covered in mosquitoes, while I hoped that mine didn’t look the same. We didn’t dare stop for anything, but no matter how fast we rode or swatted, they just hung on for the moving buffet. They finally dissipated as we began the climb up Buffalo Pass road, at least two pints of blood lower than we started the day. Several snow fields remained across the top of the pass where we had to hike a bike, but we had been expecting much more snow. The flowers were beginning to pop up, and though it was mid-July, it was only springtime at that altitude. After the pass, the descent became rough and rocky, and most everyone opted to jump onto the smooth flowy singletrack of the Flash of Gold trail.
The Run Rabbit Run 100 miler – starts and finishes in Steamboat Springs, and the course takes you up and down Buffalo Pass Road. The second time I did RRR100 (2019), they changed the course to include less of the demoralizing dirt road and detoured runners onto the new Flash of Gold trail. At the time, that section was tough for me to run. It has a lot of switchbacks and at night, as the headlamps swung around each corner, it was pretty overstimulating. On the bike, during the daylight, it wasn’t any different. This was a very slow section with frequent stops to rest my brain, and also to rest my hands from the constant squeezing of the brakes. It seemed fairly appropriate to be there on the Run Rabbit Run course, with memories of those races, and my TBI to 100, as we finished this TBI to 200. Steamboat Springs has become a sentimental place to us, and now we have another amazing experience to add to our list of what makes it so special.
Now you may have read through this post and though, “Wow, that sounds like a horrible experience.” I suppose I left out the miles of riding along next to my husband, both of us smiling and enjoying the wildflowers, the vistas, and each others company. We had several friends that joined the ride, and we periodically ran into them and chatted away an hour or two as we pedaled together. Yes, it was exhausting, it was hot, and the mosquitoes were awful, but I enjoy doing hard things, and it was a wonderful experience.
Ironically, the very worst part of the entire trip was the bus ride home. A hot bus, winding and rocking it’s way down the Poudre Canyon would’ve been too much for a lot of people. By the end of the drive I had to lay down in the parking lot, clutching my head on one of our bags while I sucked on a mint and tried not to vomit. On the margarita scale, I’d say this was a 3 margarita drive – when you reach that feeling beyond pleasantly tipsy and now everything is spinning, and you really wish you had stopped with two margaritas. After getting all the gear and bikes loaded in the car, Josh helped me weave and wobble my way into the back seat where I laid down.
Recovery has been a little rough, and adding in three days of work, my brain function got worse as the week went on. Even last weekend with a slow easy ride on Saturday and an even slower alpine hike on Sunday, I fought with nausea and vertigo. Looking back, I’m not sure how I was able to ride the rocky and difficult sections that we covered. I had wondered if it was the “ultramarathon effect”, and those 9 hour days of cardiovascular effort made my brain happier. If that was the case, there clearly was no lasting benefit. Two weeks later, the mosquito bites (Josh had 82, and I had 24 across my backside alone) have finally stopped itching, but even yesterday I was still quite symptomatic and struggled through my day at work. That is why this blog post is so long in the making.
With my TBI to 200 complete, it is time to start dreaming up the next challenge. Our summer adventures are not over yet though, and we head to Alaska in a few days! It is time to start packing, and if I’m lucky, my brain will be in a better place by then.
