OPSF 5050.....or my beautiful disaster

   So the big day came for my first 50 mile race.  I spent the three weeks prior tapering and nursing a niggle in my left Achilles tendon.  I ran every third day and just tried to eat as much nutrient dense food as that I could think of.  I was sleeping well and even slept well the night before the big race.

     Race day morning my wife and I packed up the car and headed for the Rattlesnake Campground where the start/finish was in the Owen Putnam State Forest.  Race nerves weren't really present.  My wife found out that our friends camped out the night before with their kids.  Man, they had a sweet shelter with a propane fire, a generator, and all kinds of awesomeness.  The setup and the great company almost had me forgetting that I was about to tackle the longest distance I have ever attempted on a very hilly and muddy course.
     Then it was time to get to the start line and I saw all my running friends who were either running the 50k or 50 mile.  More hang out time with people !!! (For about three or five minutes anyway)  And then we were off !!!

waiting at the starting line photo courtesy of Terry Fletcher

     It was in the dark so headlamps were in use.  We didn't have to use them long....maybe fifteen minutes or so.  I had a plan to not start off too fast.  I wanted to do 12 minute miles most of the race.  Needless to say I didn't follow that plan.  It would be safe to say that I wiped that plan with my ass, pissed on it, then threw it out the window.  I was cruising along anywhere between a 9 minute mile to 11 minute miles for the first 8 to 10 miles.  Eventually I started to mellow out to my target pace.  At one point I ran with a fellow who was doing the 50k.  When he asked how I was doing I said "I'm going too fast.  I gotta slow down."  When I told him I was doing my first 50 miler he told me I was doing great. (He would go on to win the 50k race)  I felt great too.  That taper shit works !!!
    I finished the first lap (14 miles), had a quick aid station stop and chat with my wife, then headed back out for lap #2.  I kept my pace pretty consistently and the next 5 miles went by pretty well for me.  I came to the aid station B and saw my buddy and his girlfriend who were volunteering and headed for the out and back section of the course.

Coming into the start/finish aid station mile 14 photo courtesy of Terry Fletcher

     About a mile or two (around mile 22) into that section is when things started to turn to shit.  On one of the downhills my right knee decided it didn't like what I was doing.  The tendons just started to hurt with every footfall going down the hill.  I was kind of surprised by this.  I thought my left Achilles tendon would be the one to ruin the day.  I also didn't sweat it because I figured weird pains like this can come and go in a long race.
     I got to the aid station  C and two of my friends were there  with their little baby.  It was so cool to see the little guy.  He had on some kind of muppet fur onesie thing on which was cute.   I got some water and turned to finish the rest of the out and back.

second trip to aid station C  photo courtesy Terry Fletcher

      A little ways after the turnaround, a friend passed me.  We briefly talked and we headed our separate ways.  I turned around and yelled to him "Hurry up and catch me" or something like that.  I just wanted someone to run with and knew he should be able to catch up with the way my knee was acting up on the downhills.  The knee steadily got worse the next three miles on the way to the aid station where he caught up with me.
     We ran the next three miles to the start/finish area.  This section is the hardest part of the course.  I could still run the uphills but had to basically walk the downhills very gingerly. We ran together and made comments on how the muddy parts were getting worse and worse.  People were going to the edges of the muddy sections which were steadily making them wider and wider.  Good times.

me and my friend coming

 into the start/finish aid station Mile 28 Photo courtesy of Terry Fletcher

     We walked into the start/finish aid station (mile 28) and my wife tended to me.  She switched out the bladder in my hydration vest with a fresh one and tried to get me to eat solid food.  I can't remember if I did.  I might have drank some heed at the aid station.  (I asked what flavor it was first...I had a bad experience with some banana flavored heed at my last race....gross shit)  I kissed my wife and left the aid station with my friend.  If I remember right, he left with a mouthful of peanut butter.
     We ran together for a bit.  I tried to run the hills with a mixture of failure and success.  At one point we came to a decline and he bolted down and disappeared down the trail.  I hiked down and ran when I got to the bottom.  It was around this point that my shins started to get tight with slight twinges of pain.  It was about four miles to the aid station and there were few down hills left on this part of the course.  One was particularly bad and painful.  The trail was eroded from rain so it was pretty technical with the fallen leaves hiding things.  My knee screamed at me.
     It sucked, but it didn't at the same time.  My mood was pretty good.  The race directors sent out a facebook message earlier in the week that ended with "Flexibility is the word of the weekend"  so I was adapting.  The aid stations were full of good friends who encouraged me every time I came through.  I wasn't having the race I wanted but who was?  You take what the day gives you and you make it work.  I had plenty of time to finish and that was my goal.  Granted the goal was to finish uninjured but the knee pain wasn't getting worse.  I was getting close to the aid station and saw my friend who was volunteering at aid station B running the opposite way back to the start/finish.  She screamed my name and that brought a smile to my face.  I think it was somewhere around here that it started to slightly rain.  I just smiled and laughed to myself.  Rain would just be ridiculous right now.  Luckily the few sprinkles were all that would fall.
     I made it to aid station B and my buddy kept listing off things to see if i needed them.  Food, an extra layer of clothing, mittens, and gu's.  He's awesome.  Everyone at this aid station was awesome.  I think I ate some things and took two of the gu's and headed to do the third, and last, part of the out and back of the course.  
     I picked up the pace and wanted to get this section done as fast as I could.  About a mile or so in  my shins started to get real bad.  My run became a trot, then a walk downhill, then a run, then a trot.  I got a rock in my shoe and took my shoe off to shake the debris out.  As I tried to put my shoe on  my calf cramped up hard.  I struggled to get my shoe on through the cramp.  Good times. After what seemed like forever I managed to get the shoe back on.  My hands covered in mud.  At least I told myself it was mud.  These were horse trails so there is the possibility that I now had shit all over my hands.  The leaders of the race were starting to make their way back from aid station C.
      I made it to aid station C and turned around to go back the way I came.  The aid station was unmanned at this point.  I used some of the water left there to wash my hands off and headed back.  My shins were getting steadily worse.  I took more salt pills to see if they would help.  Running was beginning to be too painful so I would have to walk.  It seemed to take forever getting this section of the course over with.  Eventually I could see the road that marked the end of the out and back.  When I stepped on the road I turned around and flipped the trail off.  I would no longer have to run that trail today !!!  Or ever if I didn't want to !!! 
     Returning to aid station B, there were new volunteers and I was jokingly vocal about my dislike for the out and back section.  One of my friends there agreed with me and we smiled about it.  I ate a cookie or two and took a hammer gel while another friend was trying to get me to take in more calories.  Nothing seemed appealing to me.  I might have eaten a banana piece or something.  Off I went for the three miles to the start finish.
     At the start/finish aid station I changed shoes and socks.  This was mile 42.  Eight miles to go.  My wife opened up some baby foods for me to eat while another friend got me some mountain dew to drink.  I told my wife that I wasn't able to run anymore.  My shins were killing me.  She said "You can do this.  It doesn't have to be pretty"  Boy, it hadn't been pretty for the last 20 miles !!!  Ha !!!  I put on a rain coat and my wife stuffed a head lamp in my vest pocket.
     I started off for the last 8 miles running.   The little rest and food gave me some energy.  This lasted for about a half mile or so until my shins made me slow to a power hike.  I would hike to give my shins a break and then run as much as they would allow....then repeat.  Walk down hills, run as much as I could, but mostly power hiking. By now the sun had set and I was going by headlamp. I eventually made it to aid station B for the last time.  Another friend tended to me there.  I got some more salt pills and a cookie or two.  Loaded up with sugar and headed onto the course to do the last 3 miles.

coming into aid station B for the last time.  legs covered in a days worth of mud photo courtesy of Terry Fletcher

     I had time to finish in the race but, again, the next three miles were the hardest of the course.  It didn't matter though.  I could tell I was going to finish this thing.  All I had to do was gimp my way to the finish line.  I tried to run but just couldn't.  So I marched up the hill.  It was total darkness all around me.  I started to worry that my headlamp's battery would die.  Every time I looked up the trail and the light faded I freaked a little bit.  I would immediately shoot my head down and look at how bright the light was on my feet to convince myself that the battery was strong.

     The numerous mud pits along this section grew as the day progressed.  Not only did they get wider, but deeper as well.  The mud threatened to suck my shoes off my feet various times.  Several times I had to sit down and pull one of my stuck shoes out of the mud using all my strength.  It was brutal.  But kind of fun.  I just wanted to finish.  I climbed the last hill and fought through more muddy sections and could finally see the lights from the finish line in the distance.

      As I approached I saw two headlamp's and heard someone call out.m I yelled "Hello" and could recognize one of my friends voices.  I approached and ran the last bit through the finish line.  Everyone there cheered and congratulated me.  I almost cried.  I was really humbled by everyone.  I was humbled all day by the people involved in the race and those helping us in the race.  So many kind people just there to help others.  Friends stayed around all day just to see me finish.  I was really touched and don't know really how to express my appreciation.

     Overall this wasn't the race I thought I would have. I thought my knee pain would disappear and my shin pain was totally unexpected.  I guess if you do it right, your failures can be just as awesome as your successes.  My feelings have been conflicted on how to classify this achievement. 
     The best part, more than anything, was feeling the support and love from my wife and the the trail running community.  This day really spotlighted our little extended family both in The BARA (Bloomington Area Runners Association) and Indiana Trail Runners.

Getting the best hug ever after finishing !!!  Photo courtesy of Terry Fletcher