My Turkey and Taturs 50K

My Turkey and Taturs 50K was a testament to the Cranwell Family motto, “Nil Desperandum” meaning “Never Give Up.” OK, just in that first sentence there are 6 typos which I will correct. Six typos because I’m typing this with a cast on my right hand. I wore my ”Nil Desperandum” visor that my family had made for me for the REDMAN triathlon last year.

The run started as most do, with me staged somewhere in the back half of the group. Happy, healthy, smiling with this group of crazy trail runners. I didn’t mind when we slowed to a walk where the road became an uphill single track. We would all find our place and our pace soon enough.

Brain and all the other TATURs did an excellent job marking the course with pink ribbons, caution tape and entertaining signage. I particularly enjoyed the sign near Mile 2 that said “Slick Rocks (yesterday). Next thing I knew, I was laying beside that sign. That’s what you get for reading and not watching the trail. I got up, brushed myself off and started running again. I chose not to look at my leg which I was sure was bleeding. I’m an ER nurse, but can’t handle the sight of my own blood! The other issue was my right hand. Damn, that hurt. “Nil Desperandum” especially at Mile 2!

What can I say? That trail was rocky! Our trails in OKC have major tree roots, but nothing like the rocks of Turkey Mountain. As my running partners at home will attest, I trip over every single tree root when we run, but never actually fall. At one point during this event, a man running behind me asked me, ”Are you going to hit every rock?”

By now I was having some problems with my right hand. I didn’t have the grip strength to hold my water bottle. I recognized the symptoms of the thumb base fracture. Mental note to get ice at the next aid station. “Nil Desperandum.”

It was about Mile 9 where I fell again. This time it was a full contact with body to the ground. I don’t think I could get much dirtier. I apologize to anyone who might have heard the expletives! “Nil Desperandum!”

I caught up with my friend Carmody at the next aid station. They provided for all our needs, including paper towels for me to clean off some of the dirt. As we left the aid station the told us that the next aid station was just 1 ½ miles away. They neglected to mention the Hill from Hell we would have to climb. I’m glad Carmody was with me for that part. We just laughed and shook our heads.
It was somewhere after that hill when I realized that my left shoe was now a sandal. I had kicked a rock so hard that my toes actually ripped through the top of my shoe between the laces and the tip! Now I’m not a large woman and shouldn’t be able to shred through a trail shoe. This added to the challenge because every time I hit a rock or root (which was about every 10 steps) I had to stop and tuck my toes back into my shoes. “Nil Desperandum.” I run that way for about 5 miles. I decided that if they didn’t have duct tape at the end of the first loop, I could call it quits. Come on! I had a broken hand and was wearing a sandal!
Fellow OKC Tri club member, Joel caught me with about 2 miles before the end of the first loop. He saw my shoes and assured me that he had duct tape in his drop bag. I wanted to throw him off the mountain!

So we approached the Start/Finish area, where Brian makes us run a lab around the pavilion. Yes, I tripped twice on that loop!

My friend David from the OKC tri club helped me tape my shoe as my right hand was no long functioning. I dunked my hand in one of the ice chests for a few moments – boy that felt good, then was off for another lap.

Lap number 2 wasn’t nearly as eventful. I didn’t fall, probably because I never even ran for more than 5 consecutive minutes. I didn’t trust my feet or my legs. I started thinking about the REDMAN Iron distance triathlon which I completed last year. Seriously, the REDMAN was easier. This course was kicking my butt! “Nil Desperandum.” Damn, I was tired. I vowed I would do an Ironman again before I would ever run this course again.

I saw very few people other than Aid Stations workers during the last 8 miles. I enjoyed the solitude and then scenery. I cheered for myself at each mile marker. At Mile 26, I congratulated myself for my 11th marathon. At Mile 30 I yelled, “One More Mile!” No one was near enough to hear.

How great is it to hear people cheering your name as you cross the finish line??? My time was nothing to cheer about, but I finished, broken and bloody. I finished.

The next day I realized that course beat me. I’ll be back next year to beat this course. “Nil Desperandum.”

Thank you to Brian, all the Taturs and the Aid Station volunteers. I was a great event!

Katharine Cranwell