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.

Suunto Ambit 2 review

The tl;dr summary is that the Ambit2 is a lot of watch for the money, and the tremendous battery life is a huge plus for ultra runners.  But...for older runners with aging eyes like me, the watch is very difficult to read while running. The main field is oversized with the 2 subfields are just too tiny. When racing I am in the habit of glancing down to check my current pace, overall time, and distance, along with lap splits as I finish miles, and I can only see one of these at a time, so this will not be my marathon or shorter race watch.  I'm pretty disappointed in this.

A week or two ago my Garmin 610 froze and seemingly couldn't be reset.  I tried everything for a day, and having been frustrated with something going wrong on every Garmin I've owned within about 2 years, I decided it was time to switch to the Suunto Ambit.  My Garmin actually recovered a day after I ordered a new watch online, but I don't know how much I can trust it anymore, so I'm not sending back the new watch.

I went with the Ambit2 since it has a better battery life than the 2r or 2s for not much more money, and I didn't feel I needed to pay extra for the bluetooth functions in the Ambit3.  Deals come and go, so the price I paid will be meaningless before too long, but I got it for $189 (free shipping) through Dexclusive.com.  I think I paid $350 for my Garmin 610 and it's replacement, the improved 620, costs as much.

For the best reviews, go to DC Rainmaker's website.  This guy tries just about every watch on the market and I've found his reviews to be fair, thorough, and as far as I can tell, unbiased.  You should not buy a GPS watch without checking out his reviews.  I'm not trying to replace or improve on his review, but rather adding my own perspective.

The Ambit2 is noticeably larger and heavier than the Garmin 610.  72g to 89g due in part to more features, like an altimeter with barometric data--which I'm not convinced is all that accurate, since I actually know the elevation of my house within a few feet and it was initially reading about 100 ft too low, now it is reading about 30 feet too high.  The other part of the weight could be the better battery, a main reason I have for buying this watch, plus it also has a temperature sensor, which is kind of nice. It's not so much bigger that it's unwieldy for me, but I do notice it.

Battery life:  16 hours in standard 1 second GPS accuracy mode, meaning it takes a reading on your position every second, making for good accuracy on distance and pace.  25 hours in 5 second mode, which is still probably pretty accurate.  50 hours in 1 minute mode, which means that unless you are running in a straight line, you will lose some distance, perhaps a lot.  This is sooo much better than the ~6 hours with the Garmin 610.  The 610 may not even make it through a mountain 50K, and I'd never get it through a 50 miler.  I can use the Ambit2 for any race, and I won't have to charge it so often during training.  Huge advantage for the Ambit. 

GPS acquisition is incredibly quick, so far within 5 seconds every time.  Much better than my Garmin, which could easily take over a minute, even if starting from the same place I started and finished the last run.  Not a really big deal, until you're that guy who doesn't want a group run to start until his watch acquires GPS, or are in a panic as a race is about to start and you still don't have a signal.

Cable connection:  The clamp looks better than anything Garmin has come up with.  A big complaint I've had with Garmin over the years is that it gets increasingly difficult to connect the watch due to some flaw in the design.  It's really bad to set your watch to recharge the night before a big race or long training run, only to find it didn't stay connected and is at 10%.  Time will tell how the Ambit2 holds up.  I was initially frustrated until I learned that you have to have the watch in the basic mode for it to connect.  If you've gone down into an activity or other menu, it won't connect until you back out.  Not intuitive.

Buttons: lots of buttons, 5, too many to be intuitive.  I'm getting the hang of them, but there are functions you have to press and hold that I still have to refer to the manual on.  I guess with more functions you need more buttons, but really, I could do with fewer functions and more usability.  Part of it is that the 610 had a swipe function to do things like switch screens to replace buttons.  I liked the idea but it wasn't totally reliable, and I'd really get frustrated with the sensitivity when I was trying to scroll through menus to change options or view history.  Not really missing the swipe function, but all them buttons is bamboozling me.

Customization: you have to do a lot of it with an online app, that you can only do with the watch connected to the PC.  It's nice to be able to do this on a larger screen than the watch, but the drawback is that if I get to a race and remember that I want some kind of special setting, I won't be able to do it on the fly.  There are a few things you can customize on the watch as well, but I don't think too much.  For example, on a 100 miler I certainly can't use 1s mode for GPS accuracy, and ideally I'd like to be able to switch from 5s mode to 1m mode if I'm not going to finish in 24 hours.  I better not have forgotten to switch to 5s mode before the race, and if I'm running low on battery it'd be nice to bump it to 1m on the fly, but I don't think I can.

Watch display:  You get 3 fields, and can toggle the watch through up to 8 combinations.  Unfortunately for my aging eyes, I can't read the top and bottom ones well as they are much smaller.  But I need at least +2 readers, and really +2.50, so my eyes are bad.  For younger eyes, this is a non-issue. You can show just 2 fields, but rather than splitting the screen equally, the 2nd field is still small.  This is really bad for me, and much worse than the 610.  I really like to see 3 fields:  Current pace, distance, and elapsed time.  What I've done is create 3 different sets with each of these as the middle (large) field, and I'll scroll through them as needed.  I really don't want to be doing this while racing.  Huge strike against the Ambit for me.

Other shortcomings:
Current pace only shows increments of 5 seconds, which means that it will show 8:00 min/mile pace, or 8:05 min/mile, but not 8:02.  I know current pace can be a bit off, but I've found on most Garmins that it's usually pretty close.  They don't even say how they round (up, down, nearest :05?) so 8:00 pace display may actually be anywhere from 7:56 to 8:04.  That's as much as a 3.5 minute difference in a marathon.  Probably not a huge deal, but it seems like a ridiculous limitation.

No vibrate function.  I really like how my 610 can be set to vibrate every mile so that I'll look down to check my mile split time.  The Ambit2 can be set to beep, but I can't even hear it with headphones on, and it might be tough in traffic.

Autolap:  Each mile (changeable, kind of), the watch can be set to beep and display the time of the last lap completed.  Unfortunately it shows the time in the small bottom field.  The large middle field gets the lap number, so I see a huge 1 after the first mile but can't read what I really want to see, which is what my mile split was.  For all the things you can customize on this watch, this doesn't seem to be one that can be changed, and they chose the wrong field to display predominately, in my opinion.   Also, I'd like to set autolap to 1.01 miles, to reflect the reality that I usually come in around 26.4-26.5 miles in a marathon, due to not being able to run perfect tangents, weaving around people, and slight GPS inaccuracies.  My 610 was functionally no better at .05 mile intervals, which means that 1.00 miles was still the closest I can get.  I had older, less expensive Garmins give me that .01 granularity, and it would be nice to have that back.

Setup:  With windows 8.1, I had to run setup as administrator to get it to work.  Otherwise the watch would not connect with my laptop.  It would just keep beeping every few seconds like it was connecting and disconnecting.  I had to google the symptoms to figure this out.  Before that I was nearly ready to throw the watch back in the box and ship it back.

No wireless connection.  My Garmin 610 would transfer data wirelessly with a USB ANT stick.  To get something similar (better) you have to spring for the Ambit3 with Bluetooth.  Decide for yourself if that's worth it.  Obviously I didn't, but it would be nice to have.  Bluetooth, including being able to see texts and emails on your watch (if your eyes are better than mine) plus a slight weight reduction are about all I see different in the Ambit3, but check closer for yourself as other features that I don't care about may differ.

Here's a real nit, the Suunto site to download runs to and configure the watch from is called "Movescount".  Activities are called "Moves".  What an odd, stupid term.  Sounds like dancing.  Or BMs.  I go out on runs, not "moves".  Fortunately I just pass through Movescount automatically to Strava and don't have to look at my "moves" on their site, though I can't miss it when I go to that site to customize my watch.

Summary:  Due to the lighter weight and especially the readability of all fields, plus the vibrate function, I'll keep using the 610 for marathons and shorter races as long as it seems reliable.  The Ambit2 will be for ultra marathons, and probably most training, unless I'm doing a speed workout where I really like to track pace closely.  I guess I'll have to run another 100 to justify this purchase basically for the longer battery life. ;-)  I have to say I'm a bit disappointed in the Ambit's shortcomings. I'm glad my Garmin recovered and I don't have to rely on the Ambit for all races.  I've probably got a good, though pricey, combination in the 2 watches now, but I'd really like a single watch that does it all for me.  As I've said, for those of you with better eyes, my biggest issue is really no issue to you, which leaves the Ambit2 as a great watch for the price.  Older folks like me might want to borrow somebody's first to see it for themselves.  I feel like I asked the right questions of people on functions, and they gave accurate answers, but what I failed to find out was if it could do such-and-such function, and will I actually be able to see that?

2015 Summer/Fall Race Plans

Recovery time is over, it's time to race again!  Actually I've already done a few shorter races, both on trail and roads this spring, plus ongoing through the summer is the Summer Trail Running Series, 4 races between 5K and 5M at various venues.  It's fun to open it up once in awhile, and good practice to run trails faster than I do in an ultra.

Next up for the longer races is Highland Sky, a tough 40 mile race in the Dolly Sods wilderness in West Virginia on June 20.  I've run survived this once before, and wrote this race report.  I really haven't been too motivated to train since Umstead so I'm just in this to have fun and finish and hang out with a bunch of other friends who will run this too.

The heat of August means it's time for the Jarmans Invitational Marathon.  Everything about this race sucks.  That's not just my opinion, it's the tagline for the race.  5 times up and down a pretty steep gravel road, 7600' of gain/loss.  This "marathon" is 29 miles, that's how much it sucks.  Invitational?  More like a court summons.  You need to check out the vids for it on the facebook link above.  Last year was actually fairly cool and overcast and it didn't suck at all.  I'm expecting payback this year.

I'm trying to build a vacation around a race each year.  Last year I ran a marathon in Ireland.  This year I'm heading to Bend, Oregon for the Flagline Trailfest 50k on Sept 20.  Mostly it's just an excuse to see an area I've been wanting to check out for awhile.  I fly into Portland and I'll spend a day and a half along the Columbia Gorge, doing a few sightseeing hikes and runs on the trails there.  Lots of waterfalls.  My drive to Bend takes me past Mount Hood where I'll check out another trail or two.  Bend has some great looking trails in and around town, along with some brewpubs.  The race itself is just outside Bend with start/finish at Mount Bachelor.  I'll wrap up the trip with a stop at the McKenzie River trail, and a night in Eugene/Springfield with a pilgrimage to Hayward Field and/or Pre's Trail before ending up back in Portland.  The more I'm planning this, the more I'm looking forward to it.  It will definitely be a relaxed race so that I'm able to do all the other trails I'd like to see.

My fall goal race is Peak to Creek, formerly known as Ridge to Bridge, near Morganton, NC in October.  It's a downhill marathon on mostly unpaved roads, 2800 ft net drop with almost no climbing and no steep drops.  My goal is to safely qualify for Boston for 2017 (2016 qualifying ends in September).  I've run Boston twice, 2011 and 2013.  For 2015 I was fast enough to register but since they went over the limit I didn't make the updated cut-off.  My try for 2016 was a crash-and-burn at Steamtown last fall.  For 2017 I get 10 extra minutes, since I'll be 55 by that race and my qualifying time is 3:40.

Peak to Creek course profile

 I'll probably wrap the year up with the Richmond marathon.  It's a good fall back in case something goes wrong at Peak to Creek, and it's a well organized race.

This would put me at 8 marathons/ultras for the year, one more than I've ever done in a year, and 47 total.  8 seems like a lot (for some people, not to others), but I'm really only racing 2 of them hard.

One Month Later--A Look Back

Now that a month has passed since finishing the Umstead 100 I thought I'd look back at what stands out from my experience, and where I go from here.  Rather than the usual "did this right, did this wrong, learned this", I'll stick to things that have left a strong impression on me.

The Start:  I'm usually pretty relaxed right before a race.  This one wasn't much different in the hour leading up to the race.  Right until we started moving, then it became real and I almost had a panic attack:  OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO BE RUNNING ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT AND MAYBE LONGER!  WHAT DID I GET MYSELF INTO!  WHAT IF I CAN'T DO THIS?!?  I'M VERY AFRAID! 100 MILES!  I DON'T EVEN LIKE TO DRIVE THAT FAR!  (heh, we've all heard that, haven't we?  No, I didn't really think that last one.) And then a feeling of relief came over me that after nearly 7 months since I got into Umstead and have trained, planned, worried and generally let it consume my life, it was finally here and it would either happen or it wouldn't.  No more wondering, it was Go time.  After that I focused on running a very easy pace and not get sucked into anyone else's speed.  The enormity of trying to swallow 100 miles whole faded as I broke the race into bite sized pieces.  Run a mile between 10 and 11 minutes.  Repeat.  Eat something.  Walk the uphills.  Get to the aid station.  Finish the loop and refuel.  Repeat.  This is what I do.  I'm a runner.  A long distance runner.  A freaking ultra long distance runner.  And I will do this.

Hitting my goal times for 5 loops:  I had a plan for running a 24 hour race which I detailed in my previous posts.  The reality was that I could only hope to have the patience to hold myself back early, and the strength to only fall off 10 minutes per loop later.  I was pleased when my first loop came in a mere 19 seconds off my goal.  I was smiling as loop 2 was just 36 seconds off.  Loop 3 went well and I'm laughing as I came in a whopping 2:25 early, and thinking about what anyone who paid attention to my plan and is following me online must be thinking, that I am running hard and then standing 1/4 mile from the turnaround to nail my splits.  But I'm not.  I'm running by feel and glancing at my cheap Casio watch maybe 3 or 4 times per loop.  Loop 4 I'm a minute 49 seconds fast and my shoulder is hurting from patting myself on the back.  Loop 5 I'm just a few more minutes ahead and as I come past all the crew stations into the start/finish turnaround I just want to scream "LOOK AT ME, I'M STILL RIGHT ON PACE!" Of course it all fell apart during loop 6 but it was so much fun to have 100K of the race go so perfectly on plan, even if it wasn't the full 100M.

The C-c-c-old:  The forecast was all over the place in the week leading up to the race, but ultimately called for cold.  The day time temps never got out of the low 40s, cooler than expected, but that made for very comfortable running.  Night time temps hit the low 20s as forecast.  I was feeling pretty comfortable as the sun went down, right up until I threw up.  Then I immediately got terrible chills.  It was like a bucket of cold water was thrown on me.  I guess I just ran out of fuel and it all caught up to me but I was almost paralyzed with chills, even though it was still above freezing.  I survived until I got into the lodge to warm up, and even though it probably was below freezing when I left the lodge, I was stabilized and felt fine the rest of the night and early morning to the finish.  But I will never forget how cold I felt in the middle of loop 6.

Mayhem at the Lodge:  As darkness fell during loop 6, the course got peaceful.  No more hikers and bikers sharing the trail.  The 50 mile runners were mostly finished, plus some runners had dropped.  The field was spread out.  The woods were dark, and quiet.  It was almost eerie.  At the end of the loop, having made the decision that I had to sit to refuel in the warm lodge or my race was probably finished, I walked into the lodge.  It was like a being dropped into Times Square, or maybe a battlefield hospital.  I had visions of hunkering down by the fireplace, sipping soup by the dim light of the fire and talking in subdued tones.  Instead, there were florescent lights blazing, a loud din of people talking over each other, and the fireplace totally blocked by cots full of blanketed casualties.  Total sensory overload!  I suppose it was good, because I never got too close to the fire nor did I ever get very comfortable in there.  As bad of shape as I was in, I was actually thinking that I belonged out in the cold, quiet, dark woods rather than inside in the mayhem. 

The Finish:  A bit anti-climactic, actually.  Since I walked every step of the final 25 miles save for the last 50 yards, I wasn't as spent as I've been for most races I've done.  I didn't know how emotional I would be coming into the finish, but I held it together.  Finishing up the loop I was still a bit apologetic for walking so much and finishing 2.5 hours slower than my goal, but as I finished I pumped my arms, and then it hit me that I had finished 100 FREAKING MILES, which I had serious doubts that I could ever do.  I pumped my arms at least 3 more times and again hurt my shoulder patting myself.  Great feeling.  Part of the reason I did this race was to test my limits.  I hit a really rough patch where I think everybody pretty much figured I was done, and I got my butt back on the trail and finished it.  Ugly as sin, but a finish nonetheless.  Maybe I never really hit the darkness in this race, but I was really worried going in that if things got tough I might fold, and I never got close.

Disappointment:  It's not fair.  Dammit, I had it.  I was absolutely dialed in for a 24 hour finish.  I did everything right.  I just had bad luck with my stomach.  Nope.  That's just part of endurance running.  It's no different than if I'd have gotten lost, injured, or if my legs had just given out.  Whatever your weakness is, that's what's most likely to get you, though it could be anything.  With me, it's nutrition.  I didn't get it right, and it kept me from hitting 24 hours.  I get it.  It is fair. 

The Lack of Suck:  One reason I had avoided a 100 miler is that I figured at least half of it would just suck.  I would hate life and swear I'd never run again.  Why should I do something that will make me feel so, so miserable?  Instead, I really only had about 3 hours out of 26+ that really stunk, and even then I still had the mindset to get through it.  Most of my 50 miles have had longer times of suckitude than that.  This 100 miler went better than any of my 5 (4 finished) 50 milers.

I'm Awake.  Really:  Never once felt sleepy.  I figured sleep wouldn't be much of an issue for me, but it went even better than I thought.  I don't even remember yawning, and never had the urge to stop and take a nap even as I passed right by my car loop after loop.  I was more worried about my last pacer falling asleep on me.  In fact, I only dozed a bit on the 3 hour car ride home, and when I got home I stayed up until about 10pm and only slept about 8-9 hours.

Post-Race Agony--Not:  I had been warned that I would be stiff and sore and barely able to walk the couple days after the race.  Most likely due to walking the final 25-30 miles, I actually felt pretty darned good.  I woke up the next morning with very little stiffness, though I was walking badly due to huge blisters that popped up on the last loop.  I was ready to run the following weekend.  I tried a hilly 12 miler 2 weeks after and paid for it with sore quads, but shorter runs have been mostly fine. 

I'll Never Ever Have to Do This Again...But I Might!:  My mantra to get through this was to finish, so that I would never have to do it again.  I knew if I failed I'd be compelled to try again.  But if I finished...I was a 100 mile runner and I wouldn't have to prove it to myself or anyone else again.  Funny thing though.  I left something on the course.  I could've done better.  24 hours was not in the cards that day, but I can do it.  And I know my strengths, that I can stay awake and alert.  Maybe a mountain 100 is my forte, like Grindstone.  But hills eat up my legs, so maybe not.  Maybe another shot at sub-24.  Tunnel Hill in Illinois looks like a flat, non-technical 100.  2016 maybe?  Thinking about it.  Not committed.  We'll see.  Not really sure I want to focus on a 100 rather than running more 50Ks and marathons.  This fall is dedicated to getting a safe Boston marathon qualifier for 2017, when I get 10 extra minutes for turning 55.  The important thing is, I finished a 100 and still want to keep running.

OK, Congrats, But Get Over Yourself:  Got it.  I ran 100 miles.  So have a lot of my friends.  The world didn't change.  Earthquakes killed thousands in Nepal.  Chaos in Baltimore.  California is still in serious drought.  The Cubs probably still won't win the World Series.  Don't be That Guy who expects everyone to recognize him as The One Who Ran 100 Miles.  Somebody tell me when I forget this.  But give me just one more time:  I ran 100 miles!

The Umstead 100 Story: Playing with fire for the win!

Pre-race with Marc and Christian

My 2015 Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run has two stories--68 miles of executing my plan for a 24 hour finish almost to the letter, and then breaking a cardinal rule when things turned ugly to get my finish.  Yes, I went into the lodge and sat by the fire.  And then I went back out to finish my race.  Of course I didn't win the race, but finishing was a personal victory.

As I've previously outlined in this blog, my Umstead plan was to run the first of 8 12.5 mile loops in 2:25 (as long as it came easy), and every loop after that 10 minutes slower to account for fatigue and more time required at aid stations for maintenance and to address minor problems.  This would put me right at 24 hours.  Major problems that might come up would take more time and if that happened I'd reset my goal to finishing in the allotted 30 hours.

One loop down

Right from the start I saw I was on correct pace, letting many others drift ahead of me.  Amazingly, and without artificially altering my pace to meet the goal, I came in at 2:25:19.  And it continued as loop 2 (2:35 goal) came in at 2:35:17, loop 3 (2:45 goal) at 2:41:59, loop 4 (2:55) at 2:55:36, and loop 5 (3:05) a bit fast at 2:58:39, even with a 10 minute blister-fixing aid stop.  Not only was I banging out these laps like clockwork, but after getting over some minor nausea early in the race from over eating, I felt fantastic.  That 5th loop with pacer Christian Dahlhausen was fun as I ventured longer than I'd ever run before.  I stayed focused on a bite sized 12.5 mile loop at a time, but a couple times I couldn't help thinking about how on track I was to break 24 hours.

I'd grab a banana and half a roast beef sandwich for each loop.  When I saw the camera I did the old banana phone gag.  Everybody should want to run with me, I'm so funny!

The "fun" loop with Christian, half a day into the race

It all came crashing down in the middle of lap 6, as darkness fell.  My stomach was feeling a bit sour as I came into the far side aid station.  As soon as I downed a Pepcid AC pill, I felt the bile rising and I rushed away from the food tables to a railing and deposited the contents of my stomach into Crabtree Creek below.  This didn't faze me, because I'd rather have a reset than trouble staying in my stomach.  I started to head on down the trail but a terrible chill struck me even though at ~38 degrees it was just a few degrees off the high for the day, and I had just put on another layer. I felt like curling up on the ground in a ball but I kept moving to try to warm up. Christian caught up to me after resupplying my bag.  We first tried tucking hand warmers against my upper arms, then he wrapped a space blanket around me.  That stopped the extreme shivering, but I was still cold.  A mile or two later, just when I was about try eating, I started heaving again. Back on the move, but not walking very fast.  As I fell 30 minutes off pace, I knew I had to take time to refuel.  Ultra runners know that you need to stay away from the fire, lest it suck you in for good, but I had to get some hot soup in and sitting out in the now freezing night was not going to work.  Christian and I discussed it, and much as I hated to do it, I had to go to the fire. We agreed that he and Marc Griffin, my other crew/pacer, would try to pull me out after 10 minutes, and at 15 I had to leave.  I slowly finished the loop in a walk and went into the large and crowded lodge at 11:30.

There was carnage by the fire, and the night was still young.  Most of the fireside cots were occupied by blanketed runners.  But I wasn't looking for medical help; I just wanted to sit and eat.  I couldn't get too near the fire, which was good and bad.  I wasn't warming up quickly, but I think back now that the fire really didn't lock on to me.  A med staffer named Pancho (sp?) noticed me shivering and looking pale, and came to see how I was.  He saw my haphazard layering as I had been adding jackets in the cold and got me to put my wind jacket on an outer layer, just under the ski jacket I was about to add.  I had some chicken noodle soup and stumbled around re-layering jackets and pulling warmup pants over my tights.  I staggered toward the door, determined to get back on the course.  I found out later that Marc went back to Pancho and asked him to take another look at me before I could get out the door.  Usually you want your crew to get you in and out as quickly as possible, but even more important is that they look after your well-being. Pancho stopped me and said I really needed to sit longer and get a good amount of food in.  He rationalized that a few more minutes spent here would pay off on the course.  I still had well over 11 hours to do the final 2 loops.  He also felt my pulse and found it strong and not rapid, else he would've mandated I sit and perhaps even pull me from the race.  I took his advice and sat, away from the fire, slurping warm soup, and when I got up again I felt decent. I had nearly an hour downtime but I was back in the game.

Marc was my pacer now, and we agreed to walk for a good while and let the food settle.  I grabbed trekking poles to help. I had been listening to music since the start of loop 3 but decided it might be better to talk so I stowed the headphones. I dreaded the thought of 25 increasingly cold and slow miles, but the idea of dropping and feeling compelled to go through all this again was even worse. I reminded myself to take a section at a time and the dread passed.  My mantra for the race was, "Finish this and you'll never have to do another one" though I rarely had to use it.

If you're going to walk, walk with a purpose

Surprisingly, my walk was brisk.  Marc confided late in the final loop that he had expected me to drag and be fighting the 30 hour cutoff.  In fact, as bad as I looked in the lodge at one point he thought I was done, if I'm recall correctly what he said.  But once we got moving he was all in with me. We talked about running some, but my quads were sore, and eventually I reasoned that I probably couldn't run enough to really impact the time, and the jarring action of running was more likely to upset my stomach again and put the finish in doubt.

Around mile 98. 

So, walk I did, and on the final loop of 3:43 I was just 8 minutes off my original plan.  As that loop went on I got over my disappointment that I would fall well off my 24 hour goal and with Marc's help, came to appreciate that I had gotten myself back on the tracks (with help) and would finish strong and positive, even as blisters developed on the bottom of both feet on the final loop. I even managed to run up the short final diabolical hill to a 26:23:57 finish time.  I wondered how my emotions would be to complete a journey 7 months in the making after running all day and all night.  It was all jubilation and I pumped my fists and hugged my pacers and a couple friends who were at the finish.  The next order of business was to find Pancho and thank him, and let him know his advice was spot on.  This could've been a very different story had I stumbled back onto the course too early, though I don't think my pacers were going to let that happen.

Does it get any better than this?

Getting my 100 mile belt buckle

So what happened?  I've always had eating issues in 50 milers, and even with my plan to fully stock my own aid station with food I should be willing and able to eat, it's probably not surprising that I would still have issues.  It really blew up in loop 6 shortly after I had both a gel and a banana while walking up a short hill, and immediately started running after the hill before allowing the food to settle.  That's the most likely cause I've come up with.

More puzzling is why it wasn't a simple purge/reset and instead turned me into a stumbling mess.  My guess is that I over compensated on the early overeating and slowly got myself into a deficit and it accelerated after I got sick.  Once I properly refueled, I was back among the living.

What went well?  I reined myself in early and stuck to my plan amazingly well for 5 loops.  Obviously taking time to recover after the loop 6 debacle was the key to not just finishing, but finishing alert and in good spirits.  Absolutely no death marching, and no sleepiness.  I never once felt like I wanted to just lay down and sleep.  No hallucinations--I feel cheated!  Once I got the clothes right, I didn't get cold again even as temps dropped deep into the 20s.  And as I passed mere feet from my car on every loop, I never once had an inclination to just pack it in as I warned would be a challenge in a mulit-loop race.  Even at my lowest point I never thought of quitting.  Finally, I had great support from my pacers and crew, including Christian's wife Jamie, and Jordan Chang who filled in once when my crew was on a breakfast break, and a quick assist from Rachel Kelly with my gaiters.




A day later, I have more perspective.  I gave myself every chance to hit one of my goals of finishing in under 24 hours, and making it 5 loops solidly on plan and feeling great tells me I was capable of doing it.  When I fell off the tracks, it wasn't because I ran beyond my abilities, but rather that I still don't have nutrition nailed down.  Maybe I never will, and this is what may keep me from trying another hundo.  Once I missed my 24 hour goal, I was able to shift into focusing on my next goal, to finish.  I most likely could have finished earlier by running again once I felt better, but I feel fine with my decision not to derail myself again just to get a little better time.  And a day later, I feel pretty darned good.  If I didn't have giant blisters on the balls of my feet I could walk pretty normally. 

Finally, I have to admit that going into the race, I thought it might be a lot of misery to get through, just to be able to say I've run 100 miles.  Obviously it wasn't all puppies and rainbows, but I really enjoyed a lot of the race.  I will always remember this well.

Race Week!

It's finally getting here!  In 4 days I'll be driving down to Raleigh, and the race starts in 5 days.

Many of my doubts and fears remain, but I'm at least past some of them.  I did pretty well getting the miles and especially the long training runs in.  Was it really enough?  I don't know, but that's behind me now.  I feel good enough about it that I'm still setting 24 hours as a goal, though what I'm even more focused on is to really hold back the first 2 loops, if not the whole first half.  If that puts me behind 24 hour pace, I'm fine with going for a 30 hour finish.

I got through training without injury, other than the freak shoulder dislocations.  I'm still trying to decide whether I should put some KT tape on them to try to support/strengthen them, or if the tape would just annoy me.  They are feeling better but both still hurt in certain positions and 100 miles of swinging my arms seem likely to irritate them at some point.  I'll just have to deal with it and use safe amounts of Tylenol and Aleve to get through it. 

Nutrition is still a worry but I'll stick with my plan to have my own stash of food I should be willing to eat and know I can handle.  I used the long training runs to better see what I seem to be able to handle and what I can't.

Weather is always on the mind and while there's nothing I can do about the weather itself, I can prepare to deal with it.  The forecast has been bouncing around with high 70s possible during the day and snow flurries possible in the early morning start.  Right now it's looking cooler, with 30s and perhaps rain at the start, low 50s during the day, and near freezing overnight.  So I have to worry about staying dry early, and warm for the final few laps, but day time looks ideal.  But Thursday will be high 70s so if the cold front doesn't move in I'll have to deal with heat.  Luckily since I'm driving and it's a multi-loop course, I can take a lot of different clothes for all weather and be able to change as needed.  In case I'm reduced to walking the last loop or two in the cold, I'll even have my ski jacket along.

Other than that, I'll try to get full nights of sleep all week and eat well, and make sure I pack everything on my list.  There's a lot that could go wrong in the race, but at this point I've already prepared for everything I can think of, and there's no need to put negative thoughts out there anymore.  If and when problems come up, I'll either fix them or cope with them.  I've got a great crew (Marc and Christian) coming to help me through them.

Injuries

Hard to believe, but I've somehow managed to dislocate not just one, but both shoulders in the last week.  I've avoided all overuse injuries and had no trail falls or anything like that, but two freak accidents are affecting my final training.

Incident #1 was from a fall off my treadmill at home.  There was a major snowstorm last Saturday so I decided to run inside.  I guess I missed the tread and went flying, landing hard on my right shoulder, in lots of pain.  It took a few minutes to be able to get myself up.  Magically, a few minutes later it slid back into place on its own.  If there's a painful injury that has quicker relief when fixed, I don't know what it is.  A dislocation feels like you've been stuck with a knife, and every time you try to move it at all it's like the knife has twisted.  But pop it back in place, and it's almost like it never happened.  Road conditions were miserable, so I decided not to go see a doctor, and since it was just a bit sore the next day, I let it go.  I even went on an 18 mile run the next day, followed by a 9 and 10 early the next week, and resumed skiing as normal, knowing I had to be more careful since ligaments are stretched and the shoulder can pop out easily in the days after injury.  I hadn't fallen all year, so why worry?

Then came Thursday.  A couple inches of powder made for nice skiing in the morning, but by noon it was clumpy and inconsistent.  I slowed down, but not enough.  I hit a bad patch and lost control, along with a ski.  Had I been in the middle of the slope it would've been an uneventful fall, but I was near the edge of the steepest slope at Wintergreen, and went off the edge.  I was sure I was going to smack a tree or rock and it might hurt bad, but miraculously I missed everything and came to a stop, on my left shoulder, in pain, and unable to get up.  I'd seen that movie before, so I knew it was dislocated too.  Ski patrol helped me slide on my butt to a flatter spot where I could be snowmobiled out.  They wouldn't try to relocate it and it wouldn't go back in on its own, so I had to go to the ER this time.  They took x-rays and said it might not be easy, so they prepped me for the forgetting drugs so they could pop it back in, but then the doc came in and said it probably wasn't needed, and in about 5 seconds he had it back in.  Ahh, sweet relief, after over 4 hours of sharp pain.

Still trying to get the miles in, so I tried to do 32 today (two days later), but at 24 the dull ache turned to pain and I figured it was a sign to stop.  Oddly, my right shoulder (the "old" injury) was the one with the pain, though both ached throughout the run.  Otherwise I felt great.  I'm ready.  I'll keep running, but stop with pain.  I need to heal more than I need the miles. Skiing?  Well, yeah, maybe, but only in ideal conditions.  And March isn't known for good Virginia skiing, so the season may be over for me.

Four weeks til race day.