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

   

Eight Hours of Payne....or the "non-event" event

      A couple of months ago my friend Rick and I signed up to do a two man relay at an event called "Eight hours of Payne."  This event was an eight hour endurance run where a runner would run either a 10k course or a 5k course for eight hours.  Each runner can pick and choose which distance they wanted to run each lap with the idea of running 8 total hours.  The event was to be held at the Paynetown state recreational area.  I guess I say "was" because the event had to be cancelled due to the government shutdown.  The state park is obviously run by the state of Indiana, but the trails we were to run on are in the Hoosier National Forest.  The powers that be decided to revoke the land use permit that the race needed to be an event.
     The silver lining in the whole thing was the fact that one section of the course was on state property.  So the race coordinator decided to go ahead and be there with the intention of just kind of hanging out.  Salomon shoes had a tent there and had a wide assortment of shoes for people to try on.   There was a small group of people there to just support Bill (the race coordinator) and Ben (his son).
    I didn't really have any expectations going into the event.  When I signed up with Rick it was with the understanding that I my legs wouldn't be fresh because the same week I would be hiking in the Great Smokey Mountain National Park with my wife, Erin.  (A vacation that also was compromised by the government shutdown.  Originally, I wanted to do this event as a solo runner but my wife talked me out of it.  Then Rick approached me to do a 2fer.)  He reassured me that he wasn't in it to win it and just wanted to be a part of the event. This took the pressure off to hold back during my vacation for the event.
     So anyway, back to the event.  I guess my game plan was to run four laps.  Twenty four miles was about what I would have run partnering with Rick in the two man relay.  So that was my primary goal.  The idea of doing a distance personal record was there, but only if I was feeling good about it.  I had already run about 20 miles and hiked about 30 already in the week, so a PR distance goal was a long shot.
      Erin talked me into trying a pair of the Salomon lab shoes.  A pretty minimalist shoe that had a pretty good tread on them.  I always wear Altras and love them.  Altras have a very roomy toe box that these Salomons didn't have.  I figured I would wear them for a lap (10k or six miles in american) and put on my beloved Altra Lone Peak 1.5's.   
     We started running at 9am and everything was good.  The running groups thinned out while people rushed ahead of me and others stayed behind.  I quickly found myself in a familiar situation: by myself.  It was kind of strange.  I expected to run with people but I seemed to be in a pace limbo between packs.  Oh, well.
      I've run this trail dozens of times so I knew what to expect.  It's constant uphills and downhills with no real flats anywhere.  The first six miles just kind of cruised by and I kept a lookout for a part of the course that was a junction in the trail that I was unfamiliar with.  For some reason, I was real worried about missing that turn.  I eventually came upon it and went up and followed the flour trail markings down and then a turn and then another.  Then I lost the markings and had to make a 50/50 decision.  Turns out I made the wrong choice and ran downhill about a quarter mile til I came to the lake.  "Well, shit, this can't be right,"  I muttered to myself and headed back up the hill.
     I saw two guys at the same junction trying to decide which way to go.  "Not this way," I called out to them.  I caught up to them and we went down the other way.  It was only a couple of hundred yards to the parking lot and the completion of the first lap.  I was at an extra half mile or so after the first lap and the second "event" in a row that I had gotten lost.  I got skills.
       I came to the parking lot and gave Ben a low five.  The salomon rep asked how I liked the shoes and I had positive things to say about them.  The traction was great and I hadn't really had any problems.  The lace system is cool.  They are similar to the Nathan "never tie" laces that I use on my Altras.  You don't tie them as much as you pull them up and they "lock in" which are great because then you don't have to worry about your laces becoming untied.  I decided to keep the shoes on for another lap.
      The second lap was pretty uneventful.  The coolest thing to happen was that all of a sudden several miles into the lap the forest's bird population suddenly came alive.  All kinds of birds were waking up and calling out in various chirps and songs.  The birds were silent and seemingly non-existant during the first lap.  It was pretty awesome.
  So anyway....the second lap:  Up,down,up,down. I had read the book Chi-Running on vacation and had been trying to apply some of the principles from the book.  I was basically going to concentrate on form.  Keep my posture erect without slouching and keep a steady cadence.  Some of the things in the book were useful and some weren't.  (It's a quick read but the author tries to oversell the "Chi-running" as a brand which comes off as gimmicky.) So far in the day, experimenting with with different stride lengths, the different angles I can lean, and keeping my cadence constant were keeping the run interesting.
     My pinkie toe was starting to rub in the shoe a little.  This was no surprise.  (My left pinky toe kind of sticks out a little ever since I broke it running a trail in vibram five fingers last year.) I came to the parking lot and when the Salomon rep asked me how things were going I told him about the toe issue but didn't really make a bid deal of it.  I don't remember much of this pit stop.   Two laps down and onto the next one.
     About a mile and a half into the next lap I caught a glimpse of two runners coming up from the back fast.  I kind of skittled over so they could pass and saw that one of the runners was Ben.  I kept pace with the two for a little while and Ben asked about the trip my wife and I took.  This exchange didn't last very long though.  I couldn't keep their pace so I slowed down so I could conserve energy .  I was only about half way through the day's goal and trying to keep up with these two would have thrown that plan in jeopardy. (Not that I could sustain their pace anyway)
     Things were going smoothly and then at about the 14 mile mark or so the salomon shoes started constricting on me.  Every downhill I went down my toenails just started to grind into the shoe.  And by grind I mean it felt like the shoes were peeling my toenails up and back.  It fucking hurt !!!  The miles started to slowly tick by with the pain happening on the downhills and then spreading to the uphills too.  Good lord this sucked so much balls !!!  At about mile 16, I started to check out the trail debris situation to see if taking the shoes off and just running in socks was an option.  Small twigs and some acorns littered a good portion of the trail.  "I'm fucked for the next two miles," I thought to myself.  Then I remembered that I ran an extra half  mile and that it would be two and a half miles until I could get the shoes off.  "Man, I'm fucked for the next two and a half miles !!!"   Ugh.....I can only guess that my feet swelled just enough that the shoe became too tight.  I reached down and loosened the laces.  It helped some but not much. 
     I finally reached the turn from the main trail that lead to the parking lot.  I couldn't wait to get out of these shoes !!!  I caught up to an older runner and he asked how I was doing.  I told him the tale about the sudden constricting shoe phenomenon and he laughed.  He had been running with a thirty pound weight vest on.  He told me why but I don't remember the reason anymore.  At any rate, we came upon the clearing and I hoped the salomon rep wasn't around to ask me what I thought of the shoes.
     I saw my Altras under the salomon table and ripped off the shoes to put on my trusty pair.  Immediate satisfaction !!!!  Oh lord Jeebus !!!  It was like I put on shoes made from the hair of angelic cloud kittens !!!    Erin was at the aid station and asked what I needed.  At this point I needed to fill up the bladder of my camelbak so we skittered to my car, thus avoiding the shoe rep.  She asked how I was doing and I mostly complained about the shoes.  We filled the bladder and I ate a larabar or two or something.  The rep found me and asked me about the shoes.  I told them that they just squeezed up on me.  He made mention of the Altras bigger toe box, but that was about all I can remember.  (Boy, I was more civilized than I thought I would have been.) Then I was off for lap number 4.
     Lord, I felt so much better now !!!  My pace and my spirits picked up and I was back in business.  I could only guess that me and those salomon shoes were only good for 12 miles.  At any rate, this was a happy accident to make the fourth lap all rainbows and unicorns.  My first goal was going to be accomplished.  I had about five miles left to do it, but I felt great at this point.   My quads were getting a little fatigued but I was trying to run downhill loosely to help alleviate their workload.
     I was about three miles in and coming right towards me was Ben.  He had run the course backwards to run with me.  How cool was that !?!?! After running solo all day it was great to have him there.  I must admit I wasn't much of a conversationalist at this point. I can't remember two words I said to him.  At one point we came upon our friend Christy and we high fived each other.  She was looking good and strong.
     "This hill is where Paynetown PR's go to die,"  Ben said as I shifted from running to an aggressive hike to get up the last hill til the turnoff.  It was at about this time that I knew a fifth loop was in the cards and I wanted to conserve my legs.  We ran all the way to the parking lot making this the best lap of the day so far.
     Another uneventful parking lot pit stop and I was off for lap five.  Everything was going smoothly after changing shoes and I was looking forward to this lap.  I got up the whitetail trail hill and coasted down to the switchbacks and then up the long incline to the 10k/5k split off.  I was doing a decent effort and then somewhere around mile 27 my tendons started to ache.  My hamstrings and calves just got a little too tight and were starting to effect my tendons.  My pace was starting to suffer and I stopped to stretch here and there.
     Coming down one of the switchbacks, I saw an amazing bright green snake.  It was about a foot and a half long and I stopped to check it out.  Of all the times to not have my camera on me !!!  I nudged at its tail to get it off the trail but it wasn't moving.  Aw, well.  I continued down the switchback and back up the other one on the other side.
     I finished the lap and my pace dropped considerably.  I told Erin I wanted to do a distance PR and that I was going to do a 5k lap.  Starting the trail again I passed the 50k point and knew I could stop there and be done.  My tendons were aching but my ego started to take over.  "It's only a 5k, you can do that,"  my ego told me.  My ego can be a bad influence and an asshole, I decided.  So I kept at it.  When I came to the split I remembered that the 5k trail is mostly uphill.  I got halfway up the first part of the hill to a small flat section that only led to more uphill.  Shit.  It might have been easier to run the 10k trail again.  My tendons ached and I cursed myself for letting my ego make this decision.  Ugh, what a fool.
     I pushed through those last three miles and didn't feel very strong about it.  I came to the parking lot and, for the first time all day, it was empty.  I reset my Garmin so I wouldn't be tempted to go out again.  33.44 miles and over 6,100 ft of elevation gain for the day.  I had been at it for about six hours and forty five minutes and knew I had more time to get another lap in.  Physically, it would have been the dumbest decision ever.  Luckily the tendon pain I was experiencing was loud enough to drown out my ego's other bad idea of going out for another lap.  I walked down the parking lot hoping that my legs would loosen up and ease the tension in my tendons.  Erin grabbed me a coconut water and I chugged half of it down.  Bill came up and called me an "animal".
     "I'm a moron," I said, correcting him.  He disagreed.  Bill's a good guy.
     I stretched and walked.  Endorphins and other things were starting to kick in.  Oddly it felt like I was going to cry for a second.  I walked to my car and leaned back on the hood and started seeing a dozen tiny little pinwheels twisting at the scene before me.  "Fuck....I'm having an acid flashback?"  I thought to myself.  Oh, boy.   This is getting weird.  Then it stopped after about 20 seconds or so.
     I went back to the tent area and people were back from wherever they disappeared to.  I sat down and just kind of zoned out.  I guess endorphins were kicking in but I felt an amazing calm overcome me.  I don't know if I was smiling on the outside but I definitely was on the inside.  It was a great feeling.  My friend Heather sat down on the ground next to me and we chatted a little.  I was just enjoying the moment and the accomplishment.  My legs loosened up and the tendon pain subsided.  Some group pictures were taken and I felt well enough to drive home.
     Looking back, I didn't finish as strong as I would have liked.  Things started to fall apart at about the 27 mile mark.  I have no idea why.  It's possible that the week's hiking and running had a hand in it.  At about that point I would have been at about the 77 mile mark for the week.  I would have like to finished my PR distance run a lot stronger than I did.  But I think the most valuable lesson I learned this day was that I need to ignore my ego a lot better in the future.  Risking my physical well being for a small amount of glory was a pretty foolish thing to do.  Luckily I managed to get through the day without any major injuries.  My recovery was fast and had no real case of delayed onset muscle soreness either.  I guess what I'm trying to say is:  I can't wait to do it all again next year !!!