Monday, November 3, 2014

Mountain Masochist, the exciting race against cuf-offs

Nutrition is such a big part of running an ultra, and it seems that I fell short here at the 2014 Mountain Masochist 50 mile Trail Run on Nov 1.  I didn't really have a solid plan other than stocking my bag with 4 gels and 2 servings of Perpeteum plus what I had in my bottle, and a resupply bag at the mid point, and planning to eat a lot of solid food at aid stations.  As I evaluate a disappointing finishing time, I blame much of it on not taking in enough calories.

This was the 32nd running of this classic Virginia race, my third.  Around 9200' of gain and 7200' of loss starting at Camp Wildwood just north of Big Island on the James River, and finishing in front of the Montebello general store in Nelson County.

Course profile, with aid stations

After last year's debacle I was not going to run this again, but my nephew Kyle wanted to come out from Nebraska to run, so I decided I'd join him.  He's finished a 100 and a few other ultras, but mostly flatter races, and not as technical as Masochist can get.  Much of MMTR is on back country and jeep roads, but there's at least 10 miles of singletrack, and the leaf cover on much of the course is a challenge.  We toured some of the course, including the last mile or so of the loop (5.5 mile trail around the top of Mount Pleasant), on Thursday to give him an idea of the terrain.

Early in the week the weather looked perfect, 40s and dry all day.  As race day neared, so did the chance of colder, wetter weather.  I made the mistake of finding a website that gives forecasts for some of the mountain tops, and the one adjacent to Mount Pleasant showed up to 6 inches of snow coming the night before the race and throughout the day.  This threw me (and everyone else) in doubt about what to wear.  Even the night before the race, one weather service said 90% chance of precip in the area, while another said 30%, and partly cloudy in the afternoon.  I packed a couple different jackets, and would decide which to wear on race morning, and leave the other in my mid-race drop bag.

As I was trying to fall asleep Friday night, I realized that if it snowed on other nearby mountains, it could snow on Wintergreen, and it might take a lot longer to drive to the start.  But the temps were around 36 and a quick check on the site I use on our mountain showed no snow.  I woke up at 1:30, 2 hours before my alarm, and couldn't fall back to sleep so  at 2:45 I just got up.  As we started the drive Wintergreen had really thick fog, but it was clear and dry at the bottom.  About 10 miles before we arrived at the start it began to rain but it was just a mist when we got there, and about 40 degrees, so I went with my lighter jacket.  My son Jon agreed to crew us, so it was nice to skip the bus ride to the start and from the finish.  But, the longer ride meant an earlier breakfast at home and I only brought a banana for pre-race, so I wasn't starting with as much in the tank as I'd like.

Kyle and I at the start
Before long, it was 6:30 and the race began and 300+ headlamps lit the way around a small lake, down a road for a mile, and into the woods.  We crossed a small stream, and then went under the parkway where I lost my balance in a knee deep pond before the tunnel and had to use my hands to keep from falling.  Good save, but now my gloves were soaked and hands were cold.  At least I was able to avoid the multiple falls and turned ankles I had in the hour of darkness last year. I was running with Becca Weast, Jenny Nichols, and Annie Rorem, all of whom would pull away from me at some point but it was good company while it lasted.

Sunrise was a pretty pink through the clouds when I dared to take my eyes off the trail and look over my shoulder at it.  11 miles in and Jon was at the second aid station to take my headlamp and tell me that Kyle was doing fine.  As I left I realized my race belt bib holder was coming off and I had to try to re-thread the cord with cold hands as I was walking and finally just stopped to do it.  This happened twice, so I'll have to figure out what the issue was.  After aid station 3 I caught back up to Jenny and we laughed about our up and down relationship.  I run downhills a lot better than her but she's strong on the uphills, so we spent some time together and some time chasing each other over the next 10 miles.  I was still feeling good, and my legs were fine other than a bit of a sore calf, which never got worse.

There must be something in the air near the Lynchburg reservoir, because this is where past races have gone bad, and I started feeling weaker here.  I had thought I might hit the Long Mountain Wayside halfway point in 5 hours, which would set me up for a 10:30 finish if I stayed strong, but that hope was getting dimmer.  I ate at every aid station, but apparently not enough.  I'm a pretty picky eater and there wasn't that much I liked.  Mostly I'd grab a handful of pretzels (which seemed to be low salt?  Why, since we all take salt supplements while running?) and/or cookies, M&Ms, and bananas, which weren't always available.  Rena from Richmond caught up to me after Jenny sailed away and it turns out we both ran Steamtown Marathon 3 weeks earlier, so we had something to chat about and take our minds off this long section.  My hands were starting to swell and we both agreed that could be due to low salt, even though I had taken a few S Caps.  The wind kicked up and the temps dropped.  I'm actually glad it happened here because I decided I would get my warmer jacket at the midpoint.

Finally reached Long Mountain and my drop bag, and swapped jackets, got a dry set of gloves since I had to take off the wet ones, and refilled my pack.  I looked for salty snacks and another runner offered me more S caps, which I gratefully accepted.  I left the aid station right at noon, 5.5 hours and now looking at the prospect of chasing cut-off times meant to keep runners on track for the 12 hour race limit time. If you miss a cut-off, you have to take a bus back from certain aid stations or hitch a ride with someone's crew.

1/4 mile up the long trek on Buck Mountain I realized I didn't get any other food.  This is an ideal time to take as much as you can carry because mortals walk much of the way up.  Really stupid.  I think it was in this section I started to feel light headed so I immediately took a gel and that helped.  I walked up at a good clip and felt ok about the climb.  My hands warmed up with the new gloves and I realized the swelling was probably due to cold, since I have mild cold urticaria.  Good thing, because I couldn't find my small case with S caps. More carelessness, but at least I had the ones the other runner gave me.  It was a limited aid station at the top and nothing appealed to me so I stuffed some pretzels in my pocket and moved on. 

At Wiggins Springs aid station (mile 31) I figured I better start paying attention to cut-offs.  I came in 35 minutes ahead.  1.5 miles up the road I came into the loop 33 minutes ahead, but feeling low.  Jon was there, along with Christian's wife Jamie, and they tried to get me to eat while telling me that Marc was flying, Christian was pretty steady, and Kyle was still in the loop and in good spirits but the course was giving him all he could handle.  Once Kyle got in, Jon was going to drive to the finish to make sure he was there with warm clothes for Kyle to change into while waiting for me.  Partway
around the loop I wished I had asked him to wait and send his bag with Jamie in case I missed cut-off, since last time many people missed this cut-off. I was not going to quit, but I would not argue a missed cut-off to end my race, and an immediate ride back in a car would be nice.

The loop was pretty rough.  It starts off pretty easy but even in good weather the terrain gets tougher.  But now at what is normally the warmest part of the day, it had dropped below freezing, and we were getting snow and sleet flurries, with some howling wind gusts putting the wind chill in the teens.  I was very thankful for my warmer Marmot Precip jacket and never really affected by the cold.  A couple of falling leaves also hit me in the face, to add to the experience.  I saw a couple guys in short sleeves and wondered how they were doing, but I'm sure they didn't want to dwell on it so I didn't ask.  I struggled to run the easy parts, and had to take a bio break in the woods.  I hiked up the rocky out and back overlook to punch my race bib at the turnaround.  As I headed back down I briefly considered sabotaging my race to miss the cut-off and take a warm bus back to the finish, but I would've needed to slow down, which would make me colder.  Short-term comfort won out so I kept moving, thereby sabotaging my sabotage. Exited the loop at mile 38 with 15 minutes to spare.  They didn't have much food left, which is an advertised danger for a back of the packer like I had become, but did offer a pulled pork sandwich.  I knew I needed to run the upcoming downhill, so I passed and just stashed a few cookies and pretzels in my pockets.  Decent idea to stash food for later, but I would finish with some still in my pockets.

I thought I had moved well to Salt Log Gap, and slowed to a walk as I approached so I could get my bottle ready to refill.  A volunteer warned me that I needed to keep moving and was just 5 minutes ahead of cut-off.  Yowza!  10 minutes lost in 3 miles, even though I had run a good bit of it.  And looking at my own watch, synced to the start, I was really 4 minutes ahead, so I couldn't count on the next aid station being generous with an extra minute.  I saw the bus there ready to pick up those a few minutes slower than me.  So after a quick refill I moved on, up a mile climb to the next aid station where I gained a minute.  I found out later that if you missed this cut-off, you had to walk a mile back to the previous aid station since the bus couldn't make it up the hill.  I thought they might do that, and worried I'd be stranded on a cold dark mountain if the bus left before I got there.

But I was still in the game.  The next section had some beautiful single track trails, with some plenty of climbs.  I didn't know what the cut-off was, so I ran all the downhills and flats and mild climbs.  Not very fast, but I was moving.  I realized in here that my stomach was fine, and my legs were tired but still working, so even though this was going to be my worst clock time, I was kind of enjoying most of it.  There was one short steep climb that really ate me up my last two times, but I marched up it pretty well this time.  I also remembered that the aid station would appear out of the woods from seemingly nowhere, but it was a long time coming.  I didn't see a sign with the cut-off time and didn't ask, but I did know that I had 53 minutes for the final 3.8 miles, all downhill.  I finally had confidence I would finish in time.

I did the math, and figured that was about a 14 min/mile pace, so I could mix in a bit of walking as needed.  At this point I would be happy with a 11:59 time and my back was hurting so I didn't want to push much harder than needed.  I remembered that a gate was about the 2 miles left mark, and I still had 34 minutes there, so I felt safe, as long as my memory was accurate.  At the one mile mark freshly chalked on the ground, which I knew for sure was accurate, I had 21 minutes to go.  The pavement in the fish hatchery facility began, and as it flattened out near route 56 I walked more.  Once I hit the final .4 miles on the highway I decided to walk until I came in sight of the finish, so I could at least look good, relatively speaking.

Just then John and Michelle Andersen and barefoot Nick came slowing driving by and rolled down the window to cheer my on.  They stopped and I opened up the car door and said I was just too tired and needed a ride in, but I couldn't pull it off without a laugh.  John and Nick had great races, finishing 6th & 7th.  I heard noised from the finish, then saw the finish line and crowd of people and ran it in.  11:51:47, a full 8 minutes to spare! 

Thanks to Yvette Stafford for the finish video.


Even down in Montebello it was cold and getting dark, so after a few minutes of catching up with other finishers, I started shivering and feeling a bit dizzy so it was time to get in the car.  Christian and Jamie joined Kyle, Jon and I for post-race dinner, beer and good times at Devil's Backbone.

I needed a minute to recover after the race.
At times during the race I had doubts that I should even try a 100 miler since none of my 50s have gone very well.  But even though my 50s had plenty of low spots, I've always came out of it and felt good even before I smelled the barn, so I figure the same has a reasonable chance to happen in a 100.  I'm now much more willing to abandon a 24 hour finish and just come in under the allotted 30 hours.  Now, one might think this is a no-brainer, since I barely did half a 100 in half of 24 hours, but Umstead is a groomed, flatter course, which plays much better to my strengths.  I'll still give myself a shot at 24 but I'm not tying my race to it.

Finally, the food issue.  I think the 8 loop format of Umstead will make it easier for me to manage a food plan and have my own aid station with stuff I know that I should be willing to eat.   I'll have a crew with instructions to keep me from being negligent.  People who can eat anything may not understand my issue, but as I said before I'm picky, and when I don't feel like eating, I have a lot of trouble forcing down food I don't care for.

So, I barely finished the race in the allotted time, but I had a good time running around in the woods with friends, freaks, and family.

Kyle and I celebrate with Jon


1 comment:

  1. Nice report Bob! enjoyed reading it. I don't think you have to worry about Umstead. You are pretty quick on flatter terrain and the additional 50mi is really "just" more time on your feet. At Grindstone I felt like I go through the same ups and downs as with other races, the only difference is the time you spent. (amongst other things).

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