morning! (sure, I'm smiling THEN)
I wandered around a bit before I found a trail that seemed to go in the right direction. I walked the 1/2 mile to registration just as they were setting it up. I'm always early. Sometimes you have to park off-road if you're in the later arrivals and that wasn't going to work out with my camaro, so prime parking.
A few of us milled about... snacking, chatting, drinking coffee (they had some!) and keeping the turnstile to the bathroom turning. It's always that way before a race. The bowels KNOW!
Got my Bib Number...
...then headed back to the car for a while to get warm and get my head right.
The parking lot filled up and I waiting until 6:40 until I put my pack gear on and headed back to the start. 400 people for the race, but there were 3 distances: 15K, 20mi, and 50K
160 people in the 15K, 120 people on the 20mi, and 120 people for the ULTRA 50K. (90 finished)
So about 300 people at the start. Off we went.
The first 2 miles was pretty telling/absurd. Almost no running at all. Up hills, climbing boulders, then making a long hike across the tops of the boulders, where you have to climb and pull yourself up. Good to have gloves on for that.
I don't have much memory until maybe mile 4 or 5... there was no real running until then.
From 5 to 7.5 more running then the 1st check-point. Because of the climbing I was WAY behind the pace I thought I'd have, somewhere in the 17-20 min mile range. I prayed for more running sections.
Mile 10
Still fresh. I ate a gel and a cliff bar and gel at the 1st checkpoint. YUM! Still hadn't peed though I was drinking every 15min.
Climbed a long slow hill to a mesa and for the 1st time of the day, really enjoyed my surroundings and allowed myself to look around.
Mile 12
Rest stop. Took a cup of Gatorade and some orange slices. Ate a gel too and some crackers. Wasn't too pleasant.
Mile 13
More long climbs, then hard mountain climbs. No fast way to do it, just grind. Legs on fire and HR at max during those climbs. My first calf cramp hit here too. Unacceptable. That's what I thought about it. Just like the last time I approached my longest run, the timing was completely bullshit and and said aloud: "No way. Fuck off." and it subsided shortly after.
The first real consideration for quitting began to creep in though.
I ran for a while with some people who signed up for the Ultra, but had already decided (because of the terrain) to pull the plug at the 20mi race finish. (you can se above what I'm talking about) This wasn't helpful at all.
Mile 15
It looked like a green mist. This section of the woods were tall old pine trees, but there was a mist ahead. I was running in a small pack with four people, me at the back. They were surprised too. what WAS that?
It was a dense pine-tree forest WITHIN the forest. Dense, lush, perhaps 4-6 high. It was beautiful. Another one of those ups in the race. A unique moment of being able to see something special.
The path wound through the mini-tree forest and it reminded me of Alice in wonderland. The picture doesn't do it justice because I'm high up and they look small.
Mile 17
Passed my longest run every of 16.5 miles. No joy in it though. The up-hills were relentless. I expected the elevation from seeing the map, but now they were wearing me down. The negotiations had begun just after the rest-stop. I couldn't stomach another Cliff bar. Salty food was enhanced and the sweet food just as bad. I managed to choke down my gels though and had a 1/2 of a banana. This was new. The body can only digest 300 calories per hour during this kind of exertion. I was burning about 1000... but anymore than 300 in and the body will reject the food and vomit it up. I was having trouble getting 1/2 that amount in at this point.
So the self-talks really started here. I knew what to expect. Jurek wrote about the highs and the depressions of the Ultras. He was right. It's not a matter of tiredness. It's depression and despair. I had a tiny taste of it once at a Spartan race, but nothing like this. It was the negotiating voice that spoke loudly now:
Stop at 20. It will STILL be a personal record by almost 4 miles! it's a FINE accomplishment. there's no shame it... look, other people are doing it too... imagine how good it will feel to-
-NO!
I responded to the voice aloud. I was alone now. Had been for a while.
It will NOT feel good. It will be a failure of the one and only goal of finishing. You will not forgive yourself. You will beat yourself up after this.
...you could always SAY you did the full race... I mean who would know? You could-
-NO! You finish the race if you have to walk or crawl. You are finishing the race. This is just one of the low points you knew was coming. The high points will happen again. Wait it out. In the meantime, keep running, asshole.
The voice quieted down.
I hit the 20 mile mark and watched people stop/finish their race. I drank some Gatorade at the aid station, ate a gel and a 1/2 of a banana, put my head down and whispered: Time to grind. Only 12 more miles.
Gratefully, almost a full mile of flat road. I felt great suddenly, getting reprieve from the ceaseless inclines. It didn't last long though as the trail twisted up and back up the next mountain.
Up, up, up.
Mile ??? This crazy 18" wide suspension bridge. It looks WAY wider in the photo but it's not. No structure below and nothing to grab on to.
Soooo odd. Just tiny metal wires on each end, holding it up. You can kind of see. Not a far drop, but each footstep made the bridge start swinging from side to side. I crept across it slowly.
Plenty of single log crossings in the race too over the streams. That was fun.
This was not.
Mile 25
...I kept thinking: It's got to turn around soon if it's going to head back, which means the BIG climb... and sure enough, it was there. The long, steep, highest climb of the whole race. 3/4 of a mile. UP.
Now both calves cramped and now my left quad. I had to grab onto trees because of the slope sometimes. I had to pull myself up more boulders. I had to hike hike hike until I couldn't anymore. I'd take 10-20 seconds rest, then climb again. The scenery was beautiful, but I only noticed in a hateful abstract way. I realized this and leaned over and cupped my hands into the downhill stream and splashed water on my face again. That did the trick. I dipped my hat in then continued.
When I got to the top, it wasn't the top. When I got to the next top, same story. 4 times a fake-out and more rocks to climb, but eventually made it. Then mile marker. Finally.
The longest mile of the day. Now the race seemed longer than it ever had.
How long now? 5-6 miles... if I could run 15min/mi I could be out in just 75 min. If there were no more hills. (I knew there was at least one more climb after this descent though)
I planned worse case @ 20min miles. 2 more hours max.
Somehow that cheered me up. I don't know why exactly.
(the last 10 of the 32 miles were the hardest by a long shot for elevation changes alone, forget being tired)
Miles 27-29
Magic. Some hard switchbacks down the mountain, but it really clicked in then that I was going to finish this crazy race. And I had a real moment of elation. This was followed by a couple of miles of real joy. I was floating. I whispered aloud: Peter Pan Miles now. Just fucking FLOATING along. I banged out some 11min miles. It really struck me then. I had no idea what kind of reserves I really had until then. I was RUNNING at 29 miles. I was running well, and cleanly and at a pace faster than I even trained at. After ALL of those miles.
When I finished, I blasted down a couple of cups of Gatorade, got my finisher's bag, then asked where the FUCK the parking lot was. (we finished at the Ironmaster's Mansion)
1/2 mile walk. AWESOME. Hobble.
Funny though how minutes ago I was running and now hobbling along like an old fool.
My First Ultramarathon. In the books. Wow.
Epilogue:
The books I read: "Born to Run" and Scott Jurek's amazing "Eat and Run" really helped. The former reminded me throughout the day to be happy that I was running. The latter prepared me for the mental roller-coaster the run was. I knew what was coming and when it came, I welcomed it and moved on.
It's near impossible to describe some of the highs and lows without sound either hippy-dippy or a mental patient but I'll try:
The Lows: The "beast" (as Jurek calls it) is always there. Sometimes it's quiet, and sometimes it yells at you and wants your to quit. It's a smooth talker too, if yelling doesn't work (and it didn't). It promised me everything to quit. It really helped that I knew this was coming, but it still was difficult, especially when quitting STILL meant a bunch of personal bests.
The Highs: Not the adrenaline ones. I've had those plenty of times. These were 3 or 4 times in the race when I completely disappeared- when I became part of my environment instead of opposing it. These were the Peter Pan miles, the cold stream water in the face, the pacing of streams, the surprising pine forest, the amazing vistas, the blending into the forest. These times I felt limitless and I tried to drink it all in and promised to remember when the lows came again, and I did. They never lasted long enough, but I supposed that's how it works. Jurek spoke of them but now I understand non-intellectually what he meant.
At the end of the day I learned a lot about the science of the race too. Food is so tough and I was very dehydrated, even though I drank every 15minutes and consumed over 3.5 liters of water... not near enough. I used S-caps to keep my sodium levels up as my body was expelling it hard. Next time, more fluid. And food choices will have to be different as the cliff bars and crackers were pretty impossible in second half of the race, even though I choked them down. Regardless, lessons learned.
Only one blister and my Achilles was great as a side-note. I didn't notice the massive blister until I took my shoes off.
I'm not thinking about a next race right now, just digesting this one, and trying to reconnect with some of those incredible moments that I just can't fairly explain, no matter how I try.
-April 30th, 2013
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