By Claire Gadrow
Running Life Before The Reset
"I'm a marathoner." That was my identity for most of my running career. I never want to explore trails for fear of getting injured. Specific workouts and paces dictated my training. I had success, particularly as a master's road runner. It got me invitations to the 2010, 2011, and 2012 women's elite start at the Boston Marathon and twice in the top 10 masters.
Then an injury while competing on my horse in October 2014 unexpectedly changed my running career. I was trampled in the jump off, breaking seven ribs, puncturing my lung, breaking my nose, and splitting my mouth open. When I got out of the trauma ICU unit and recovered at home, I started with walks to the mailbox, then one mile on the treadmill, and then running in our woods. My mother-in-law had bought me a chest-armor vest for riding, and I wore it in case I fell on the trails with healing ribs. I promised my family I wouldn't run, so the woods were the perfect cover. It was then I learned to run trails, and my love of the woods was solidified.
Introduction to Trails and Ultras
Four months later I was recovered and ready to race the 2015 Boston Marathon. But on Thursday, I went home sick with a temperature of 104°F. My doctor (who is also my training partner) laid down the law – no competing while sick. My lungs were still too compromised even if my fever broke by Marathon Monday. I was frustrated – I had almost died in the show ring, and then I worked so hard to get back.
Then a friend told me of an all-women's attempt to set an FKT on Rhode Island's North South Trail. It was 80 miles. I had never run longer than a marathon and rarely done a trail race. So for the next month, I ran 20 mile sections on the trail and prepared for the unknown. The FKT day was magical - I got stronger as the day went on and established the female FKT, three hours ahead of the next woman. I was always told ultras should be my sport. I get stronger as the race gets longer. I couldn't break 19 minutes for a 5K, but I could run 6:40's for a marathon.
I was hooked. And most importantly, the FKT proved I was whole again. I was healed from my accident. I was alive and well.
The next two years were filled with ultra bliss – a Stone Cat 50 win, a Hale and Back win, an Italy/Slovenia 50K podium place, and then my proudest moment at my first 100 miler – 17 hours and a female course record at Ghost Train. With foolish overconfidence, I was convinced I had ultras figured out; run steady without any stops, and when it gets tough, turn off your brain.
The Reset
In April 2017, I got an elite entry to North Carolina's Umstead 100 and was convinced I could lower my Ghost Train time. Race day arrived, and I forgot I trained every morning in New England's frigid winter weather on Rhode Island's pancake flat terrain. That day I tackled the 8,000+ feet of climbing and 80 degrees with humidity. I rushed through the aid stations battling another woman for the top spot. That worked well through 50 miles until my quads started to fail, and my body shut down. I muscled ahead, not realizing I was in a serious medical condition. When my husband and medical director convinced me to stop at mile 88, I was rushed to the hospital. Upon admission, I was diagnosed with severe rhabdomyolysis (lesson learned – no ibuprofen in ultras). When your creatine kinase (CK) toxin levels should be 200, mine were 138,000, a result of the damage to my body. That's me – always trying to be the winner, even if it means ignoring all of my body's signals telling me my health is in jeopardy.
While I was in the hospital, the race director and crew came to my hospital room and sat around my bed. They told me they'd come to talk to me about "The Reset." Knowing I was relatively new to the sport, they shared a valuable lesson to ensure I would have a long career in ultra running.
They said not to think about failure versus success. Sometimes you need to do a Reset in a race. It might mean that you sit down and have a little bit more to drink. Or you need to eat a meal. Or you need to take a nap. You give yourself a Reset.
Life after The Reset
Writing this article, I realize I had already experienced The Reset. When my horse trampled me, I took a new path to ultrarunning. When I got rhabdomyolysis in the 100 miler, I learned to respect the distance.
That same year with the help of my new coach Emily Harrison Torrence, I returned to the Ghost Train 100. It was unusually hot. I started slower, and when I found myself in 4th position after the first lap, I didn't panic. I stopped at aid stations, used my ice bandana, ate bananas, and guzzled Coke like a champ. As darkness fell, I was in the lead and finished within several minutes of my course record. I had mastered The Reset.
I have used The Reset many times. This spring, when I ate dirt badly in the volcanic mountains of the Canary Islands, I took a car back to our hotel at mile 50. I didn't quit. My bloody knee just needed to heal. Years earlier, I would have been devastated. But I wasn't – I was in a beautiful place trying my best against international runners at the Transgrancanaria race. I was on another fantastic running adventure.
The 2020 Reset
2020 is like a Reset in many ways. Everyone has a 2020 story of hardship. But running is the constant that remains, providing the healing power of physical effort and measured breaths. You're alive and well.
“Running races are canceled, and athletes are resetting themselves as runners. In my case, I've rediscovered my love for being an athlete in the wild outdoors.”
Running races are canceled, and athletes are resetting themselves as runners. In my case, I've rediscovered my love for being an athlete in the wild outdoors. I just hiked New Hampshire's breathtaking Presidential Traverse with my husband. I also went back to the place that made me fall in love with ultras and made another successful FKT attempt on the North South Trail. This time I had eight friends who spent parts of the day with me. Since then, these die-hard road runner friends of mine are asking when we're doing the next trail run. They have been introduced to the glorious Reset.
About the Author
Claire lives in southern Rhode Island with her husband John and three dogs Tucker, Samantha, and Rusty, and her warmblood jumper Rio. She proudly celebrated her 51st birthday this April by running 51 miles on her treadmill just to further confuse her road running friends.
