Monday, May 2, 2016

Achilles tendonitis, Promise Land 50K, and next 100 mile training!

CATCHING UP

Long time, no blogging.  I should've posted about my Oregon trip in September, because it was awesome.  Started with running waterfall trails along the Columbia Gorge, a so-so performance at the Flagline 50K, then checking out as many trails (and brewpubs!) around Bend as I could, followed by a spin on Pre's Trail in Eugene and finally a bit of hiking in Portland before flying back.  October brought a 13+ minute BQ at Peak to Creek marathon in North Carolina, a fast, fast downhiller.  I took a shot at a PR but faded at the end and jog-walked the final 5 for a 3:26something.  My legs rebelled at Richmond in November so that was a slow finish.

For 2016 I decided to take the first part a bit easy, and focus on my 2nd 100 miler in the fall.  My goal is sub-24 at the Tunnel Hill 100 on a flat rail trail in southern Illinois, on November 12.

THE INJURY

I started the racing year in March at the Virginia Creeper marathon, a very low key long-running marathon in SW Virginia.  The Creeper Trail is a rail trail, with a bit of a climb but the race only hits about a 2% grade max.  I had been dealing with a sore hip so I went in undertrained, but didn't really care about the results.  I felt good at the start though, just over 8min/mile pace for about the first 12.  Then I felt a pain in my lower leg.  At first I thought it was my calf, but it was lower, the Achilles tendon.  I slowed down, hoping it would subside.  It didn't.  I took walk breaks.  Didn't help.  I changed my gait a bit to compensate, but started to feel hip pain by mile 15, so I walked to mile 18, which passed by the start/finish, and dropped.  I could've walked another 8.2, but didn't see the point of risking more injury.

PROMISE LAND
Next up, Promise Land 50K++ this past Saturday, with about 8000 foot of climb.  Unless my achilles recovered quickly, I didn't like my odds.  Every time I tried running on it, I felt it tug within a minute.  But I could walk with no pain, even up steep hills.  Even 30+% grade hills.  The week before PL I had a charity 5K which I planned to take easy, but I got stupid when I started in the lead.  2 miles in I was walking and in pain. 

My new plan for Promise Land was to try to power hike it.  If it started hurting, I would stop.  If I missed cut-offs, no problem.  I had 10 hours to run a 50K.  That's a 19:30 min/mile pace.  Easy peasy. But Promise Land is really about 34 miles.  That's 17:30 min/mile.  No problem on a flat course, but Promise Land is far from flat.  I set my expectations low for finishing.

Here's the condensed version of the race:
- Stormed up the hill on the road ahead of pace.  This is going to be a piece of cake!  Trekking poles are da bomb!
- Slowed down on the trail, and not as fast as I thought I could do on downhill, but I'm still ok.  I think.
- First cut-off coming.  Should be about 5 or so minutes ahead of it.  WAIT!  When did I stop seeing trail markers?  CRAP!  I'm off course.  I added a full mile.  (I went up to that giant FAA antenna right after the first parkway crossing, for those who know the course.)  I'm screwed.  But maybe I can talk my way past if I'm only a minute or two off and running in.  So mad at myself.
- WHERE IS THE AID STATION?  It's not at mile 13, it's 13.7, 14.7 for me.  Bad race prep.  I'm doubly screwed, but I run in anyway.  Really really mad at myself.  I'm 7 minutes over cut-off.  The end.
- "What do you want in your bottle?"  Don't you mean "Your race is over"?  Not gonna ask!  I'm still in the game, and I escape before the aid station workers change their minds.  HOORAY!
- Run downhill for awhile to make up time.  New math.  17 minute/mile to the end.  I can do that.  I think.  Yeah, I'm pretty sure of it.
- Back hurts.  Knee hurts. Hip aches.  Achilles twinging.  Technical downhill hurts.  No more running.  I'm walking it in.  This might be close.
- The "half way" point aid station, a bit over half way on distance, but generally considered the half point on time.  4:52, so I'm 8 minutes ahead even with the extra mile.  WHEW! My friend David Smith is sitting in a chair, having dislocated his shoulder in a fall at a creek crossing.  I give him 10 seconds of sympathy and assurances that he'll be ok (trust me, I know), and tell him I have to keep moving.
- Why aren't my power walking miles as fast as they were before?  I think I'm still ok...
- 2nd/last mid-race cutoff coming.  8 hours at mile 26.  At every mile I do the math, and I'm seeing it 35-45 minutes ahead of danger.  I come in at 7:22, 38 minutes ahead.  I'm golden!
- The big climb.  As long as I don't bonk I'll be fine.  3 miles up the hill, and 4 miles to the finish.  I should check that on my phone where I've got the course profile, but don't want to take the time, and it is what it is, right?   Plan on an hour up and an hour down, lots of time in the bank.  Whew!  Jordan Chang is at that creek aid station and tells me it's 3+ and 4+, but we agree I should be fine.
- Death march.  Not a full-on bonk, but I'm dragging, and trying to save a little in my legs for the finish.  Apple Orchard Falls is pretty, but I better not stop to take a pic.  Just in case. An hour passes and the top isn't in sight.  Can't be too far though, right?  Here's a sign.  Still 0.9 miles to the parkway.  It is more than 3 miles.  Did I mention the bad race prep?  Oh, man, I'm out of funds at the Bank of Bob (aka, the BOB).  This is going to be close.  Very close.  Might have to run some on the final road part.  I figure I can do 15 min/mile pace on the final section.  Any faster and I'm in trouble.
- The top!  What's the real mileage left, I ask?  5?  Five?  FIVE?  Terrible race prep.  I should know these things without having to ask.  70 minutes left.  That's 14 minute pace. I'm screwed.  Unless I run.
- Oh yeah, that's not the real top.  I knew that.  Still a bit of climb, with not-so-fast walking.  Not good.  Screwed a little deeper with every minute that's off-pace.
- The top!  Oh yeah, choppy trails down, which I'm having a lot of trouble with.  Run a bit, mostly walk.   I don't even want to look at my watch anymore because I know I'm falling farther behind.  I forgot that this trail part goes for a couple of miles.  It's over.  I hate life.  All that work to come up short.
- The road!  But I've got only about 25 minutes left, and it's 3 miles.  Or is it 2.5?  WHY DON'T I STUDY THESE THINGS BETTER BEFORE THE RACE?!?  Probably screwed, but let's see how running goes.  Might as well goes down swinging, though I make a decision here, that if my Achilles flares up I will stop running completely even though that absolutely guarantees a DNF.
- 10 min/mile pace.  No pain.  I don't dare go faster.  I think back to the missed turn and I'd kick myself but that'd probably just irritate the achilles.  I'm going to win the Horton stupid award for missing 10 hours because of that, but little did I know that award had already been claimed.  But that's not my story to tell.
- Where's that 1 mile to go marker?  I have visions of some of my CAT cohorts coming out to bring me in for an epic finish a la Gunhild Swanson at Western States, and AJW going ape in the post race photo, but I see no one.  It's gotten drizzly and cooler, and everyone has probably gone home.  Not that I want anyone to see me come in too late.  Boo-freaking-hoo.  Just run.
- There is is!  One mile! And 13 minutes left!  I've got it!  I walk 20 steps just to give myself a break, take a mini-celebration and one last swig from my bottle.
- But wait!  I bumped my watch off at least twice taking my pack off to get stuff during the race.  I know I turned it back on quickly, but just how long was it off?  Also I didn't start it right away at the gun.  How much time do I really have?  It's Horton's clock, not mine, that counts, and I don't know what his reads. Am I good, or am I screwed?  I dunno. I don't hate life anymore, just Horton.  Dare I pick up the pace just a bit? 
- The squirrel!  The turn for the camp is coming!  Whether I make the time or not, it's all going to be over.
- The camp!  Someone is there yelling something about time.  I take out my headphones and ask, he says I've got 3 or 4 minutes to run 200 yards.  WHEW!  But do I trust him?
- I turn for the finish, and there are a few people there cheering me in!  Why are they pointing to one side?  Crap, I missed the chute!  I jump the low rope and rumble in.  9:57:24.  Dead Freaking Last, but a finish!  I'm grateful for the many friends who did stay around for my finish. 

OK, that wasn't so condensed, and there's really nothing else to say, so that's all I'll write. Strava log here.   I've battled cut-offs before, but never from the start, plus I saw only 3 other runners in the last 20 miles, so it was mentally exhausting. Glad I brought music.  Physically, walking is different enough from running that I ache more and differently than after nearly every other race, and my feet are really beat up.  Pretty much everything hurts.  But not my Achilles tendon!  Hooray for that even more than the finish!



NEXT!

100 mile training for Tunnel Hill started today.  Guess what?  I'm behind!  But once I recover I'll start with some slow easy miles and make sure I'm really ok, then work into my training plan.

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