I love writing race reports. But I'm also not graced with any sort of gift for narrative, rhetoric, or suspense. So I'm not sure how best to begin this tale, which had many plot twists and turns.
The past two years, I've volunteered the day before at the race site; so for me it always seems like the race begins on Friday. While I first volunteered just at registration, this year I also helped out setting out parking cones, as well as setting up the headquarters aid station tent and timing tent. Friday was cold and rainy, and while my energy wasn't zapped, I had that I-can't-feel-warm sensation. And it would just get colder over the night. Though I've stayed on site in cabins in years past, this time I rode back with David to our apartment. Probably not coincidentally, I actually had the first full night's sleep before a race in a long time.
With an early wake up, we drove on out to the course, getting to park in an ideal spot right next to where I had set up and left my car. We sat around at the HQ for a little bit. In our race packet, they made little dog tags in honor of Blake Norton, the founding race director for 20 years, who just passed away. I've been pinned this to the back of my pack. At first it clangs around noisily, but I change my attitude, and believe that it's just Blake, on my backside, pushing me onward. And at 6am we were off!
This year my goal was to finally break the 16 hour mark. When I first made that attempt last year, I essentially just picked off a minute here, a minute there, from my first year's lap splits, with the goal of holding on to a quicker pace overall. That worked for the most part. You never really notice more than a minute or so the first laps, and maybe not more than 5 or so minutes in the second 50, but it turned into a hour PR. However, that wasn't good enough for a sub-16. My plan this year was a little riskier: I would try to take significant time off the earlier laps to get enough time in the tank, and then work to hold on. Whereas before those first few laps were mid 1:50s, this year I was aiming for something sub-1:50.
Lap 1:
The thinning of the herd, and mostly in the dark. Running is also kind of like driving: in you mind, everyone running slower than you doesn't have your guts or stamina. Everyone ahead of you is probably over confident and will blow up. There were the running Gods, plowing ahead of us, but for the mortals, you're always trying to evaluate the field. The first mile felt a little slow (though how the first laps starts, it was a little long), and so I decided to dial in a quicker pace to nail the lap pace. I skipped the water point 1 (WP1) at this point: my stomach was still pretty set of breakfast, and I wasn't at all eager to start stomach problems early. At AS1, I found a wonderfully delicious piece of cinnamon/coffee muffin which was phenomenal. For the most part I'm running on my own. There's one runner I see-saw with that first lap, but he's a first time 100 miler, and runs a lot of N. Turkey Creek. I end up leaving him over the second lap. Last year I did quite well running with a group, but with my focus on the pace, I think I'm doing better running my own race.
Lap 2:
I came through in 1:44:xx. Kinda what I was hoping for. The plan is to give David my pack to "check," but I know it's all good, and my hands are still pretty cold that getting it off/on is a lot of trouble. I get a little bit to eat at headquarters (HQ), and head back out. I'm still feeling pretty strong. I'm resolving to keep it strong for three laps at this tempo; which should give me 45 minutes. The sun is starting to come up, and I've switched from a beanie to headband, but it feels warm with my long sleeves (though I think it's still in the 30s). I grab a few cookies at WP1. While I can't predict if my stomach goes south, what I eat earlier really isn't the difference, so I'm happy to enjoy the real food instead of some nasty gels. I'm still running up the long hill from the lake to Turkey Creek. At AS2, I grab another muffin. PRO TIP: Nibble some at the aid stations, but if you want more, just make sure you can easily carry it. I munch on that muffin for the next mile in order to not stuff myself. N. Turkey Creek continues uneventful. This section is actual my favorite part, despite being the hilliest: there's really no guilt about walking the hills, they're so steep. And really, the first 6-7 miles are completely runnable, so with the walking hills THIS is the break. At WP1, I've been digging the Honey Stinger Honey Gels that taste AMAZING. It's meant to be just enough to get me another 2 miles back to HQ.
Lap 3:
Was right at 1:45, so still holding strong. The laps are long, but my focus on is still sharp. I'm good with nailing this pace again. For heading out to AS2, I'm feeling good, but I am noticing my hamstrings tightening up. And after climbing up to Turkey Creek, I can feel some heaviness in my quads. I grab another muffin at AS2 and keeping plugging away.
Lap 4:
Here is where the wheels started to come off. I want to keep the 1:45 for just one more lap, I would have an hour in the bank. That way, I could fall back to 2:15 laps for the second half; after 1:45s that'd be a piece of cake, right? Still, lap 4 is the hardest lap mentally, but I just tried to keep mental focused on hitting the pace. But the heaviness and tightness is getting to me. And I dare to take one more lap climbing up to Turkey Creek, and this just does it. I'm still plowing ahead, but I know it's going bad. When nothing is appeasing at AS2, I can tell the stomach is falling apart too. I end up adding some unplanned walking spots. Like a wave, it hits me that I want to stop. I can't stand the tightness and aches that are coming. I can't stand the stomach issues. It's nothing I haven't dealt with it before, but those were when my first two years were special and I was willing to endure it. I feel so much less invested this year, I just don't want to have to go through that yet again. I just don't want it to happen. As I pass David at HQ, I just say "we need to talk."
Lap 5:
I'm with my crew for a minute. I want to stop. I finally decide to placate everyone: I'll do an obligatory one more lap, but I still have no intention of continuing beyond that. I've picked up Leigh Anne, my first pacer. She's doing her best to encourage me to keep me going. In hindsight, I do feel better finally having a friend to run with. I feel so appreciative for the effort Leigh Anne is putting in; but it's nearly impossible to make me feel better. I'm walking randomly at such inappropriate spots, and I just don't care. I take one last hoorah; I drink some Mountain Dew at AS2. If that doesn't perk me up, nothing will. And it really doesn't, I'm still fighting all the good Leigh Anne is trying to do, and I still want to stop. Back at HQ, Leigh Anne stops to confer David, only after I reassure her that I won't drop without consulting with them.
Lap 6:
God bless Mac. I still beg to drop. Though I'm terrible at being dramatic, and even I don't think I sound as far gone as I feel. Leigh Anne is still laying it on. David is just calmly telling me he thinks I would want to continue. Mac sneakily says she doesn't want to run fast either. Fine. I'll go again. And honestly, I'm feeling much better. I've resigned to keep going as long as we keeping easy and slow. Mac is an old college friend and we haven't talked for a while. And it was a great time to catch up. It's just two friends out for a run. We catch up, and really get into some deep things. It was great. I'm also thinking "well, hell, now we're finally at 75 miles, can't stop now." I've also found my poison of choice in the Honey Stinger Waffles (SO GOOD). And just in case I'm jacking up the caffeine with Mountain Dew. This short lap summary just doesn't give how great this lap was.
Lap 7 and 8:
Throwing these two laps together is an injustice as well. But I'm also pretty mentally buzzed and just happy to get out of 20+ mile slump and to be finishing again. I don't care about my time, and that it won't be a PR. I've come out of a hole. Not by my own volition, but by being pulled out by incredible crew and pacers. Mitzi and I have a great time just letting the conversation flow. It's so nice to not worry about having this guys really try to push my pace. When Todd comes around, it's like our weekend runs. He does a great job of not front running, and paying attention to where I am. I get short with him once or twice, but overall it's a great lap. He gets even by running the wrong way, going down the main service road to C. Lapahio, and leading me behind for about 100 feet before I come to my senses.
Summary:
This race was quite a learning experience. In hindsight, I don't know whether I regret anything I did. I took a risk. It didn't pan out, but that's what risk taking is. And really my pacers stayed true to my strategy. Sure it wasn't about my pace, but I told my pacers not to listen to me and to keep me going. Especially Leigh Anne did a superb job, and getting to run with Mac was the icing on the cake. It could not have been finished off any better than with Mitzi and Todd. I come in to the finish is 17:02, with an incredible support! My parents, Greg and Meredith and the girls, and a whole slew of people from Morrisville Community Crossfit! It was unreal, and so special
Now to just relax, and see how the recovery goes. In hindsight, I took a risk that just did not pan out. The first marathon was nearly 3:38, certainly faster than anything in the past few years, let alone at the beginning of a 100 mile race. Maybe that was the "wrong" choice or the "wrong" plan. But when you go to your limits, there's no way to know what will work; you HAVE to take a chance. And perhaps I did finally obtain my one goal: to push myself so far beyond myself, I just couldn't pull out on my own. No promises on what I will or will not do, but it should be easy going until it's starts getting close to prepare for the Cascade Crest 100 at the end of August.
Blindside - Coming Back to Life
