As I laid in bed this morning, still basking in the glory of my Cactus Rose 100 finish last month, I started to think about the sport itself and the people who are involved in it. Ours is a very secluded sport. A gated community that is known by few, witnessed by fewer and participated in by even less. They say only 2% of the population will ever complete a marathon and only .001% will complete an ultra. Where do I get these percentages from ??? (Nowhere. I made them up. But in this day and age, people seem to love stats and percentages.) In all honesty, I don't know what the percentages are, but if you've toed the line at an ultra of any distance, you have already attempted and possibly completed more that just about everyone else in the general population. Anyway, as I was thinking about the sport, I began to also think about the wide array of people that show up to and/or participate in ultras. They vary in age, sex, skill level and certainly come in varying degrees of shapes and sizes. What does an ultra-runner look like??? Well......with this blog, I will sort of answer that question. I have compiled a list of the varying types of people and personalities that I and most everybody else, have seen at one time or another at ultra-marathons.
Now, I know these days, we live in a very "politically correct" society, where everyone is a winner and there are no losers, and everyone's feelings must be taken into account before any words are spoken. Taking into account our society of sensitivity, I have written a disclaimer in tiny print for all who dare to read on.
Disclaimer: This blog is one man's opinion.......Mine!!! Although some of my observations are accurate, much of this blog is SATIRE. If you do not know what the definition of satire is, I encourage you to surf over to another page. This blog was written to be funny and pokes a little fun at many of the running types in it, including myself. When I use the term "guy" in my descriptions, I mean male and/or female. Just as they describe "mankind" as all members of the human race. Just like that!!! If you are hyper-sensitive, thin-skinned, wear your heart on your sleeve or any of that other stuff, LOOK AWAY!!!!! GO TO ANOTHER WEBSITE. Thank You!!!!
Now, if you have scrolled beyond the disclaimer, and have a sense of humor, please read on. As I said, this is just a little compilation of all the different types of people that I have observed at races over the past years. You may find that you fit into one or many of these categories. I know I do. Hope you find this amusing....................................
The Serious List:
The Elites- These are the (mostly) sponsored athletes who are there for one reason......to win races. These are your Scott Jureks, Timothy Olsens, Tony Krupickas, etc... They are the cream of the running crop, and although you may see them, most people rarely run along side them, unless you count the brief 2 seconds it takes them to pass you, as they lap you yet again.
The Speedster- Not quite an Elite, but no slouch either. These guys still win races, especially the smaller ones. They keep the elites moving faster, as they constantly nip at their heels for bragging rights of beating an Elite.
The Veteran- This is usually an older runner who has run that particular race 10 -15 times. They know the race director, the volunteers, the local runners, etc... Everyone seems to refer to them by their first name. The are they guys who have longevity and the best people to solicit advice from.
The Everyday Runner- This is the "Regular Joe", who trains hard, runs 5 - 7 days per week and is very dedicated. Usually finishes races from the middle to upper percentiles. Runs multiple races per year.
The Race Walker- Never runs a step during the entire race, but always finishes before the cut-off; sometimes before people who are running. Tough as nails and full of determination.
The Old Timer- This is the runner that is usually in the 70 - 80 year old category. Doesn't move that fast, likes to use trekking poles and always compliments the young "whipper-snappers" on a strong run performance. Years and years of experience to share.
The First Timer- The name says it all. We've all been there. First ultra, lots of questions, lots of nerves, a little unsure of what to expect. These are the types that need a little help and mentoring, that everyone is always willing to provide.
The More Humorous List:
The Naked Guy- This is the guy who runs the race wearing only shoes and the shortest, tiniest pair of running shorts available, regardless of the temperature. (See Timothy Olsen & Tony Krupicka.)
The Bearded Hippie- The name says it all. They are the "Grizzly Adams" of the ultra-running world. Haven't had a haircut or shave in an inordinate length of time. However, all the extra hair doesn't seem to hurt their running abilities.
The Naked Bearded Hippie- Just a combination of the two prior entries. There seems to be a few at every race.
Little Mary Sunshine- This is the lady who is always smiling, has sprinkles of glitter on her body, and seems to be tip-toeing through the tulips with every step. She always has some kind words for every runner she passes, and everything about her says positivity; from her hot pink running skirt, down to the jingle bells on her shoes. There is very little that could ever happen during a race that can break her spirits.
The Anal Retentive- This is the guy that follows a strict training plan, from which he never deviates. He accounts for his time, mileage, calories, etc... He has his projected splits written out in advance, and either carries them on him, or has them at the start/finish. Everything is calculated. Nothing is left to chance. (Sadly, this is me. I can't deny it.)
The Costume Runner-What??? It's not Halloween? Doesn't matter. This is the guy that seems to want to be the topic of discussion of all the runners. The "Hey did you see that guy?" guy. Usually has some kind of crazy outfit or hair-do. More common in marathons, but they do seem to pop up at an ultra from time to time.
The Really Loud Headphones Guy- The type of runner that says, "If it's too loud, you're too old!". Likes to crank out his tunes. You know it because, you can hear them from 10 ft away. The kind of runner that makes race directors cringe, because they can become unaware of the goings-on around them. They can't talk to you without taking out one of their ear buds, and if they try, they yell at you, because they assume that the music is blaring in your ears too.
The Conversationalist- This is the runner who always seems to have plenty to say, regardless of what point you are in the race, and whether you want to hear what they have to say or not. They like to sidle up to you during the race and take the conversation way beyond the casual banter of passing runners. They have all the time in the world to share their story with you, and don't mind tagging along with you for 10 or 15 miles, or to the next aid station. Although, I enjoy talking with other runners during the race, there is also too much of a good thing. Silence is golden sometimes.
The Barefoot Guy- There is one at every race. Usually runs one of the shorter races offered in the series, but at times will try the 50 or 100. Never seems to be concerned about the temperature, race conditions, or terrain. Sometimes they finish, sometimes they don't. I always cringe at the thought of one of them catching a root with their bare feet exposed, in really cold temps.
The Plaid Shirt Guy- I personally prefer the moisture-wicking material, but to each his own. These guys seem to like to wear plaid, for whatever reason. Maybe because the shirts or light and airish, or maybe because they can unbutton them. Either way, you always see these guys at races.
The Mildly Out Of Shape, Recreational Runner- This is the guy who runs the occasional 5K and 10K. Not overweight, but not the typical runner's body either. Signs up for an ultra-distance race, thinking "How hard can it really be?". Some may finish, but more will drop. You will often hear them saying, "What the hell was I thinking when I signed up for this???". I think we've all shared that sentiment at one time or another.
The Greatly Out Of Shape Non-Runner- Sign up for an ultra, thinking they can walk the distance, because, after all, it's just walking, right??? The odds are definitely stacked against them. Although, they get my respect for trying, it is hard to understand why someone would jump into the deep end of the pool without first learning how to swim.
The Tourist- Usually, someone running a course for the first time. I did it this year at Cactus Rose. I spent the majority of the first lap taking in the sights and snapping pictures. At one point some of the runners followed me to an overlook point, and I had to steer them back to the course b/c I was just taking pictures.
The Back Of The Packer- They may not be fast, but they are not to be taken lightly. Although, they are not setting any records, they finish the majority of the time, and that is all that counts.
The Unprepared Guy- Not necessarily an inexperienced runner, but for some reason, this guy shows up on race day with much less than what is required. He is the guy who borrows food, batteries, salt tabs, etc... (Sadly, I've been this guy too.)
The Fashionably Late Guy- Shows up 20 minutes before the race, gets his packet and runs.
The Extremely Late Guy- Over-sleeps, gets lost, whatever. He shows up during or after the start. He is in disarray b/c he is late. Still runs, but not feeling on his game due to having to rush to the start.
The Motivator- This is the runner or volunteer who always says how great you look, no matter how really bad you look and feel. They say things like, "You're almost there!", even though you are only at mile 60 of a 100 miler. Everything is good, and the glass is always half full.
The Tech Junkie- I-pods, cell phones, GPS watches, and in my case a mobile charger for my GPS. These runners have more wires coming out of them than a roadside bomb. (Guilty on all charges your honor! Sadly, again, this is me.)
The Purist- The total 180 of the Tech Junkie. Shoes, shorts and maybe a stop watch. Just meat and potatoes baby!!!!!!
The Weekend Warrior- This is the rowdy, loud guy, who usually shows up with a group of friends. He likes to cook, eat and drink a lot of beer. Usually runs one of the shorter races in the series, so he can get back to cooking, eating and drinking beer. Loves the race environment as much or more than the race itself.
The Self Motivator- These are the people who you come up behind or cross up around a curve in the trail and find them talking to themselves. Hey......I do it myself. Whether it's singing songs, repeating your mantra, or cursing yourself out. Whatever gets you through the race.
The Fashionista- Usually a woman, but not always. They show up with $200 worth of running clothes on, have brand new, clean shoes, right out of the box (Probably purchased b/c they matched their ensemble, as opposed to their usefulness during the race.), hair fixed, make-up and perfume applied. They usually run one of the shorter races of the series, because they don't want to get too messy. A stark contrast to the usual "rag-tag" trail runner attire that most of us wear.
The Leaner- Usually, someone who is in some type of pain, but opts to keep going. They move as fast as their body will allow, with that distinct lean to one side. They are determined to finish.
The Walking Dead- These are the people you see crossing the line right before or after the cut-off time. They are exhausted from being awake for 30+ hours, and have that empty, glazed over stare. They no longer talk or eat. All they know it to keep moving forward and getting to the finish. "Quit" is not in their vocabulary.
The Support List:
The Race Director- The "tough as nails" salty dog, who has been around the block more than a few times. He is the guy that makes it all happen. He takes care of the things we rarely see, and don't know about. His is a thankless job, and although he is happy to shake your hand and give you your finishers award when you cross, he also has the balls to pull you from the course when he knows you have had enough, from exhaustion or for medical reasons.
The Volunteers- You see them at the aid stations, the finish line, and everywhere in between. They are there to help you succeed. They show compassion, but have no problem kicking your ass out of an aid station, if you stay too long.
The Support Crew- These are the families, wives, friends and fellow ultra-runners, who help to keep you on track and give you the things you need from your drop bags. A good crew is an essential part to success.
The Pacer- This is the guy who gets you to the finish. Sometimes a friend, sometimes an absolute stranger. They play the role of motivator, supporter, and at times, even babysitter; telling their runner when to eat, drink and even where to step, when needed. A good pacer is invaluable.
The Medics- These are the people you rarely see, and you should be thankful for that, because if you see them, they are usually standing over you.
The Cowbell Person- If you run ultras long enough, you will eventually find this person at the finish or along the course. The distinct ring of the cowbell is heard at many races. Not sure how it originated, but is seems to be a fixture at most races.
Whew!!!!!!!!! I'm tired. I know this was lengthy, and I hope I didn't hurt any feelings. This was intended to be light-hearted and should be taken as such. Remember, I am just a Tech Junkie, Anal Retentive, Self-Motivating, Everyday Running, sometimes Unprepared Tourist idiot, who just happens to run ultras.
Run on friends.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
"Charging On" - How I Took My Garmin To The Edge, And Beyond
Ahhhh.........The GPS reciever. Whether you like Garmin, Soleus, Nike, Polar, Suunto, or Timex, if you dig into a runner's sacred "running drawer", 9 out of 10 times, you will find one of these devices. I still hear talk of running "purists" who don't use GPS, and instead, opt for a plain stopwatch or nothing at all, but that is not me. I will be the first to admit that I am a "tech junkie". My weapon of choice is the Garmin 310XT, and I love it. In fact, I would say it is one of my most valueable pieces of running equpment, ranking a very close second to only my shoes. I remember my first GPS device. It was some triangular, European piece of crap, that you wore on your bicep and basically only kept track of your distance and time. Looking back now, it was the equivilant of living in the stone age, as far as GPS receivers go. After a little time, I graduated to the Garmin 305, which I loved, and after I laid my 305 out to pasture, I upgraded to the 310XT. Why do I like my GPS so much? I think it is two things: First, I enjoy the freedom it gives you when you run. Gone are the days of scouting out routes with the car odometer and marking mileage with mailboxes, unusually shaped trees and houses. With my Garmin in hand (or on wrist), all I have to do is head out the door and run. No need for a specific route or any pre-planning of that route. Secondly, I love the real time information. I am not one of those runners who has just one huge screen going, and then get the other info when I'm done. I have all four of my split screens running simultaneously. Time, Distance, Pace and the ever important Average Pace, which in my opinion is the most crucial informational screen I use. And of course, I have my other screens that I flip to to get info on my current lap, elevation, etc.... I am so hooked on my Garmin that I think that if I had to choose between it and my shorts, I'd probably go with the Garmin.
Now comes the problem at hand..........battery life. The Garmin 310XT has a battery life around 18 hours. Maybe 20 if it's brand new. When you are running distances from 5Ks to marathons, and even 50 milers or 100Ks, this is usually enough power to survive the entirety of the race. However, unless your name is Scott Jurek, Tony Krupicka or Hal Koerner, chances are you will not have enough battery life to finish a 100 mile race or more. And as they say, "There lies the rub." So, like many other runners, I experimented with different techniques to save power and extend battery life, such as turning off the back light and all the bells and whistles. Anything to save a little power for later. Now these measures are small and in the grand scheme of things, probably don't give you that much more battery life, but at least it makes you feel like you are contributing to the cause. In fact, the most I had ever gotten out of my 310XT was at the 2011 Rocky Raccoon 100 Miler, where I managed to get 18 hrs and 80 miles in a single charge. That being said, for the last 2 hrs or so, I could not get any information on my screens, only a low battery message; but the information was being stored. I ended up finishing my final lap there with a 305 I had borrowed from a friend. In fact, for my 4th 20 mile lap, I wore both my 310XT and my friend's 305. One on each arm, because I didn't want to lose touch with my pace and mileage. It was a crude and elementary way to log 100 miles, but it worked. So, all that being said, the question now on the table is, "How to squeeze more juice out of your battery?"
If you've ever seen the Robin Williams movie, Dead Poet's Society, you will remember the scene where he makes the students stand on his desk in the classroom and tells them, "Just when you think you know something, you must look at it from another angle." (On a side note, I bet you've never seen Robin Williams referenced in a running blog. HA!!!!) Well, that is what I had to do when searching for a way to get more battery life out of my Garmin. And what I learned when I stood on that proverbial desk is that it is not about squeezing more juice out of your battery. It is about putting more juice into your battery. How did I come to this conclusion??? I saw a post on Facebook one day of someone talking about a mobile USB charger for charging their phone when they went camping. With that information in hand, I had the little light bulb pop up on top of my head. If you can use a mobile USB charger to charge your cell phone, then why not use it to charge your Garmin? The idea didn't have to sit long before I went to Amazon.com and found the Trent Heavy Duty External Battery Pack (http://www.amazon.com/New-Trent-IMP60D-Thunderbolt-Blackberry/dp/B003690Q42/ref=pd_cp_e_0 ). It sold for $39.95, which was a small price to pay if this idea were to work.
When it arrived, I charged it up and took it out for a test run. To my surprise, it worked very well. I rigged it up to my gear (pictures further down the blog.) and charged my Garmin on the run. The only downside is that while you are charging, you cannot view the information on your screen. All you get is the percentage charged and the time of day. It seems to take minimal power to charge the Garmin, so I would expect that you could get around 8 charges out of one fully charged battery pack. Now that I had even more technology to pack on runs, it was time for the ultimate test. I was running Cactus Rose 100 on October 27, 2012 and I wanted to attempt to charge on the run and keep my Garmin going for the entire race; something I had never been able to do before. |
| Battery pack with Garmin charger attached. |
When race day came, I had my battery pack fully charged and I placed it in my drop box at the 45 mile point. I was pretty sure I wouldn't need it until 50 miles or beyond, but because of the rugged terrain of Cactus Rose, I dropped it early to be safe. When I got to mile 45, I had enough battery life to get to the 50 mile point, so I just packed it with me to the start/finish area. When I crossed the 50 mile point in 12 hrs, 5 mins I still had 38% battery remaining, but I went ahead and got ready to charge. I put the battery pack in a ziploc bag and placed it in my camel back. I then ran the charging cord through my shirt and out of my sleeve and connected it to my watch. The most important part to this set-up was the cheapest. I used two wrist bands to hold the cord in place, so I wouldn't accidently bump it and disconnect it while charging. I was all set and charging as I set out for my third lap. The plan worked flawlessly and I was re-charged to 100% battery life in about 1 hr 45 mins. After I was charged, I continued to run with the battery pack in my camel back, just in case I would need to top it off again. I'm glad I did because my second half of this race was considerably slower than the first and although I probably could have made it the whole second half without another re-charge, I opted
to charge up again around mile 85, just to be safe.
 |
| Charging set-up. Wrist bands hold everything firmly in place. Not yet connected to Garmin. |
 |
| Charging mode. |
 |
| This is all you will see on your screen while charging on the run. If you remove the charger from the watch to check your current status, the pack automatically shuts off, so be prepared to turn it back on again. |
 |
| When you initially begin charging, the pack tells you the level of charge in the pack itself. Either "Full", "High", "Med" or "Low". When you are actually charging your device, the "Use" light will be on. This way you know you have a good connection and are charging. |
 |
| After about 10 seconds, the battery level will disapppear and only the "Use" light will be on. As long as that is on, you are charging. |
According to my Garmin, each 25 mile lap was actually 25.4 miles, so I knew I would have the opportunity to take it beyond 99.9 miles. And that was the big question for me. What would happen after 99.9 miles? Would it flip back to 0.00? Would it have a Y2K style meltdown? I just didn't know, and I didn't know anyone else who knew either. So when the moment of truth came and I hit that magic number of 99.9, I watched with anticipation as my Garmin ticked closer to 100. 99.98, 99.99, and then the moment of truth. My watch crossed the 100 mile barrier and kept on counting. The mileage read 100 and counting. I was happy. My experiment was a success. When I crossed the finish line, according to my Garmin, I had logged 101.7 miles and 29 hrs, 32 mins of constant run time. The cool part is, the watch could have gone many hundreds of miles more, even though I couldn't.
 |
| My Garmin post-race. |
So now I have a winning formula for any future 100 mile races, and I will continue my "charging on the run" strategy. Never again will I worry about when my battery will die during a race. Now all I have to do is hook up and charge on.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Cactus Rose 100 Mile
The Toughest Show On Dirt
I signed up for this year's Cactus Rose 100 with one goal in mind; To finish. I am not the type of ultra-runner who likes to sign up for as many races as possible. I believe in quality over quantity. I pick a specific race, train like hell for it and expect the most favorable results. So when I entered into this race, there was never an option of "If I'm not having a good day, I can drop to the 50." That thought, although constantly lingering over me, was not allowed to enter my mind. A "DNF" was not in the game plan, and I had to succeed.
In my opinion, there are three components that are key to running a successful ultra; #1-Mental Toughness, #2- Iron Stomach, and #3 Strong Legs and Feet. These three things all fit together to form a successful race. In most cases, if one fails, the other two components are weakened and eventually can fail as well, leading to a poor performance or in the worst of cases a "DNF". So in light of that, I knew I had to have all three of these areas sharp as a tack in order to successfully navigate this course. The odds were stacked against me from day one because, unlike many others in my running circle, I had never been to the Texas Hill Country. Not for the Cactus Rose 50 or for any of the Bandera races. I was a "Hill Country Virgin", if you will. I had heard all of the horror stories from friends of mine who have run either of those courses before; the rocks, the heat, the climbs, the downhills, the sotol, and the agony that all of them put together inflict on your body. This was no race to be taken lightly. On top of all of that, I was coming off of two mediocre performances in ultras earlier in the year. I ran the Mississippi 50 Mile, and both my mind and stomach went haywire, and my legs soon followed, in what was easily the wettest, nastiest and muddiest race I have ever run. A similar thing happened a few months later at the Big Butts 50K, only this time it was the extreme July, Mississippi heat that did me in. Which brings me back to my previous statement of having all three components working in lockstep to ensure success. In my two previous races, one component fell by the wayside, and was quickly followed by the rest. Although I finished both of these races, they were less than stellar performances.
I began my official training plan for Cactus Rose on April 30, 2012. I had six months to get into top shape. All I had to do was survive running through the Louisiana summer. If you've never run in LA in the summertime, just go to your local gym, get in the sauna and run in place for several hours. 100 degree heat, coupled with 100% humidity, made for some really brutal training. By the end of July, after completing the Big Butts 50K, I was mentally and physically whipped. I was very discouraged with my training runs, and the intense heat was really taking it's toll on me. I remember telling my wife how unenthusiastic I was to even run Cactus Rose because of the difficult time I was having with my training. Then came the shoe incident...........
I have been running in 4mm drop shoes for a while, on the road and trails. I used to run in Brooks Cascadias before making the switch. I ran in Saucony Peregrine 2s and Kinvara TRs during the summer, but the hot, wet conditions of LA broke down these shoes very quickly and I was tearing them up quickly; sometimes after just a little over 100 miles.
 |
| A doomed pair of Peregrine 2s, after only 250 miles. |
As race day approached, I began watching the weather map closely. Initially, it looked like the temps would be a little warmer than usual for this race, but as the days wound down, the temps kept getting cooler. By race day we were looking at a low of 39 and high 65; perfect running weather.
We arrived at The Lodge on Friday afternoon, set up our tent, and attended the race briefing. The reality had officially set in that I was going to do this race, and I was beginning to get a little nervous. Joe Prusaitis and Henry Hobbs, the race coordinators talked about the tough terrain, and how the course was natsier than ever, with more erosion than ever before and extra-tall sotol plants that now could not only cut up your legs, but your face as well. After the briefing, Erica, my wife and crew, fixed me some spaghetti and it was off to bed. I didn't expect to sleep much due to pre-race jitters, but Erica's one condition to us camping was that we buy an air mattress. Thanks to that very mattress, I slept like a baby that night.
 |
| Erica at our Texas ranch house. |
Race morning seemed to come quickly, and I awoke before my alarm clock went off, to the shuffling of other runners getting themselves together for the day's event. I got myself together, ate a quick breakfast, and before I knew it, it was 10 minutes to race time. I could hear the sounds of Joe yelling "10 minutes", then "5 minutes", then "2 minutes". Shit began to get real, awfully quick. Next thing you know, it was 5 a.m., and we were off. Also in attendance were Edie Reidel, Brad Delcambre and Bobbi Parker, all from Lafatyette, LA. They were all doing the 50. I was the only one in our group dumb enough to go for 100. I didn't know how it would turn out. I had Erica to crew and cook for me during the race, and Dave Silvestro as my pacer for my final 25 miles. I started out with 2 pacers but my other pacer, Antonio Alvarado, injured his back the week before the race. That meant the first 75 were on me. As if I needed my race to be any tougher.
Lap #1
This lap was all about feeling out the course. Since I had never run this course, I really wanted to pay attention to every section, so I could sort of judge what kind of race I would have. As always, in a race that is mostly single track, everyone was bunched up for the first few miles until we hit Lucky Peak, the first climb of the day. It was rocky and steep, but I managed. Up and over and on the next big climb of Ice Cream Hill. It was a little steeper and higher, but I handled it fine. By this time, the crowd had thinned, and I was already running by myself. I knew this would be a lonely course, but I didn't think this soon. Then at mile 19 came Sky Island. When I approached it, I was in awe. It was what seemed like a near vertical climb on a very rocky surface. The runners on top looked like ants, as I'm sure I looked to them down at the bottom. This was my first real taste of Cactus Rose. After Sky Island came Boyles Bump and Cairn's Climb. All hills of great elevation and tough climbing. The crazy thing was that I had to climb all of them 4 times during this race. I would be in for a long day. I completed my first lap a little sooner than expected, in 5 hrs 28 min. I survived my first test at Cactus Rose and still felt really good. I even thought for a brief moment, "This isn't so bad. I got this." HA!!!!! What a naive idiot I am.
Lap #2
I was still full of "piss and vinegar" at the start of this lap. I had all the food I needed in my drop boxes, and Erica was keeping me energized with hot quesadillas and chicken noodle soup. Things were going pretty well for me. Another lap, only in reverse this time. The big hills came in the first 13 miles, followed by what seemed like a much easier 12 at the end of this lap. I was still feeling great, my nutrition was good and I was running well. I finished my second lap in 6 hrs, 35 mins, giving me a 50 mile time of a little over 12 hours. I was pleasantly surprised with my time, and again, thought to myself that this course was not living up to all the hype. Remember that "naive idiot" comment earlier????
Lap #3
I've run enough of these races to know that my 3rd lap would be considerably slower. I told Erica it would probably be a 7+ hour lap. My pacer Dave made to the start and I told him to be ready to go around midnight. Going clockwise again this time, I was able to capitalize a little on flatter, first 10 miles of the lap. I wanted to cover as much ground as possible before dark. I was also trying something new by charging my Garmin 310 XT with a portable charger as I ran. I wanted to run my Garmin the entire race without it going dead. This was my first time trying this, so I wasn't sure how it would work out. Well, it actually did quite well. My Garmin was charged after about 2 hours and I was at 100% battery life by mile 60. Darkness fell around 7:30 p.m. and as I entered the Nachos aid station, I hooked up with Bob Brooks, who I met on the course earlier. He asked if I was interested in the two of us running together over the nastiest part of the trail. I was happy to oblige him, since I figured by now most of the 50 milers were done and it would be really lonely out there. I hate running in the dark, and not being able to see anyone ahead or behind me. It always gives me the impression that I am off course. Having some company was just what I needed. Plus, it was almost like having a pacer again. Bob and I ran together for quite a while, but with about 5 miles remaining in the lap, his pace got a little to fast for me and I backed off and told him to go on without me. I knew if I tried to keep up with him, I'd have nothing left for my last lap. Those last 5 miles were tough. My thoughts of the course not being so bad quickly faded, as my calves burned more with every climb and my quads burned more with every descent. Also, the sotol had finally worn me down. I had calf sleeves on, by my quads were cut up and very tender. It seemed everytime I touched a sotol plant, it was agony. I had also worked up a pretty large blister on the outside of my left heel. All that combined slowed my pace considerably, but my stomach was in good shape and my mental game was still sharp. My third lap took 7 hrs, 47 mins. I had two things to celebrate at this point; #1- I had just completed mile 75 of Cactus Rose, and #2- I had just met my yearly mileage goal of running 2,012 miles in 2012. With 25 miles left to go, the clock was at 19:50:00 and counting. I did a little doctoring and taping of my blisters and told Dave it was time to go to work.
 |
| My "blood toll" to the sotol. |
 |
| Myself and Dave prior to Lap #4. One of us has a lot of energy! |
Lap #4
I told Erica that I expected this to be an 8.5 hour lap at best. I still felt good mentally, but my body was pretty tired and my feet were extremely tender from pounding rocks all day, and from the blister I acquired. I told Dave it would be a "comical" pace. He said when he saw my first lap time that he thought he'd have trouble keeping up with me. I told him not to worry b/c I wasn't moving very fast anymore. This lap involved about 90% walking. I tried to take advantage of the flat, rock-free portions of the trail b/c they were the only sections I could do the "100 mile shuffle" on. My movements could no longer be considered running. Although, I appeared to put a lot of effort into my "so-called" runs on this lap, in reality, I think I was actually moving faster by power walking. But, making some running motions made me feel like I still had a little strenth in me. As time wore on, my blister continued to hurt and I could feel another on coming on at the arch of my left foot. The climbs became very slow and the descents even slower. I took great care in coming down, so I wouldn't make my tender feet hurt anymore than necessary. Although my legs and feet were shot, I never got a sick stomach and mentally, I was in a good place. I knew that I was going to finish this race. Dave was a good pacer/companion during this lap. He kept me awake with plenty of conversation. At a couple of points, I had to appologize to him for not responding to him, but I was so tired, my mind and my mouth were not really connected anymore. As the lap wore on, my exhaustion kind of put me in that "walking dead" state of mind. I would just focus on the trail and move forward as best I could. Dave didn't mind. He just kept on moving with me and keeping me aware of my surroundings and my calorie intake. He kept me on point, even as I started to hallucinate seeing the raccoon in the middle of the trail, that turned out to be a patch of grass, the little girl sitting near a tent, that turned out to be a rock, and the man in the woods, which was only a tree. I guess being up for 30+ hours will do that to you. As we crossed over mile 90, and into Nachos aid station for the last time, I witnessed my second Texas sunrise during this race. It would be good to have some sun on my face after nearly 12 hours of running in the dark. When we got to Equestrian, I dumped my lights and camelback, and anything else not absolutely necessary, picked up an amphipod of water and told Dave, "Let's get the hell outta hear and go get a buckle." And just like that, we were off.
The last 5 miles were as tough as any, and even when I ran, I seemed to be moving no faster than a walk. There was only one obstacle between me and victory, and that was Lucky Peak. Everything else in this section was flat. When we hit Lucky Peak, it nearly knocked the wind out of me. I had no more climbing ability left in me. And at this point, it seemed higher, rockier and steeper than ever before. Very slowly and carefully, we made it over. With 1 mile left to go, I radioed to Erica that we were almost there. When we made it too the junction where the trails merged, I could feel that buckle in my hands. As we made it around the final turn, I could see the finish line. When we got within sight, Dave let out his rebel yell, which he did everytime we got on top of a hill (The first time he did it scared the hell out of me!), so that everyone knew we were coming. The crowd was small so late in the race, but the important people were there. I crossed the finish line in 29:32:31, and Erica was there to congratulate me and give me some love. I got my buckle, shook hands with Joe, and told him how his course kicked my ass. And just like that, it was over. I came out to Bandera not knowing how I would fare on this course, but with a single attempt, I had conquered it. I thanked Dave again for the great job of pacing me and started to collect my stuff. Even though it was a long, long, long race for me (The longest amount of time I have ever run.), I still was not nauseas or really feeling bad. Usually after a race, my stomach is sick, but not today. My nutrition was perfect, and for the most part, my mind stayed sharp. I never go broken down mentally or hit any real low points during this race. My training had really paid off in the end. I finished 25th place overall. There were 80 who started the 100 and 47 to finish; a completion rate of 59%. The drop rate is usally around 50%. I think the perfect temps contributed to a higher finish percentage. I think had my feet not been so tender at the end, my time could have been a little better, but, a finish is a finish. I will take my buckle with pride. Edie, Brad and Bobbi also all finished their 50 miles.
 |
| Dave and I making the final turn. |
 |
| Final steps. |
I have to give some major thanks to my very supportive wife/crew, Erica, for helping me out with all of my needs during this race. She is my ultimate supporter and has never missed a race, with the exception of the Dallas Whiterock Marathon in 2010, which she still kicks herself for. Her love and dedication does not go overlooked.
Too Dave Silvestro for the great pacing job, and for keeping on point during my final lap. To Antonio Alvarado, who trained to pace me, but got injured at the last minute. And to all of my fellow ultra-runners, who are always kind, giving and supportive throughout the race. No matter how bad you look during an ultra, there is always someone just a few steps away telling you how strong you look. It is just the "ultra" way. No other races compare to these.
When I had initally signed up for this race, I had intended to do the Rouge Orleans 126.2 in February 2013. Now..........I don't think I will. With this finish, I am in a place of great satisfaction with myself, and I don't think I have anything left to prove right now. Rouge Orleans is still on my list, and it's time will come. But for now, I am happy where I am at.
Run on friends.
Lane
 |
| My beat up feet. |
 |
| My Garmin experiment post-race. I think the extreme hills made it register long. |
 |
| "The Crash" post-race. |
 |
| The weapons and the prize. |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)