I think there comes a time in every distance runner’s life when he or she is humbled. Saturday was that day for me. I had done the training, running more miles in the opening months of this year than I have in any other year. I had successfully completed two indoor marathons in two days in February in Goshen, Indiana and had most recently completed 29.5 miles in five and a half hours at the BPAC 6 Hour Race in Buffalo, NY two weeks ago. I felt pretty relaxed and fresh, having tapered nicely in the week leading up to the race. However, as the race day approached and I checked the weather, there was a statistic that scared me.
Temperature. It is the thing that most impacts race performance for me. It can help me sail on to set PRs and has the potential to sink me like a sack of potatoes. As race week unfolded, I checked the anticipated temperature of Rochester. 66. Doable. 69. A bit too warm for me. 73. Reevaluating and resetting my goals. 75. Oh no. 76. Busted. It seemed every time I checked the weather forecast for Rochester, Saturday’s projected high temperature continued to climb.
And, while I was reserved in trying to understand the implications for my own race performance from this seemingly statistical nightmare, at least part of me, deep down, knew that this was going to be a test of willpower. Nothing, though, could have prepared me for the ordeal I was going to face come race day.
Emmy and I both took Friday off of work, her first day off since she started there back in 2010. We packed up the Prizm early Friday morning and headed out towards Rochester by way of Galway so we could drop off Lizzy at her grandparents for some puppy time. The drive was pretty uneventful. Thankfully, Emily had brought along an audio book, James Patterson’s I, Alex Cross. I have never been a James Patterson fan - perhaps because of the cultish following of his readers - but I was surprised by how entertaining and addicting it became to listen to his story of detective Alex Cross and the murder mystery of the century. We would end up spending close to ten hours in the car over the course of the weekend listening to the audio book and wouldn’t finish until we had almost returned home to Pittsfield around 10:00 on Sunday night.
We stayed at the Extended Stay America hotel in Greece, just outside of Rochester. Friday night we all gathered at Su and Rocco’s apartment to carbo load. Jonny, Harry, Mom, Aunt Jane, Emm and I were all graciously accepted by Su. I know it is always difficult to bring in guests, but especially more so, when the number of guests multiplies the current occupants of said apartment by 300%.
The weather in Rochester was gorgeous “hanging out” weather - in the mid 60s or 70s during the afternoon, and cooler in the 50s at night. We had already checked into the hotel before dinner, but did not actually sit down to eat dinner until after nine. By the time we drove back to the hotel it was close to ten o’clock at night. Harry was staying over with us to give Su and Rocco a small reprieve. We brought two air mattresses and quickly blew one up. Unfortunately for Harry he said that it was flat within the first thirty minutes.
I was out like a light within seconds (as usual). I think I got about five hours of sleep before the alarm went off at 4:40. Climbed into the shower and then started to get dressed for what would be one of the longest races of my life. Got in the car and were en route to Trout Lake by about six. When we arrived, a lot of other runners had already pitched their tents and were “hanging”. I saw Mary DaSilva and Shelley Viggiano and I was really elated to be able to be here for the third installment of Mind the Ducks. It is quickly becoming my favorite race of all time.
Got everything out of the cars, two tents pitched and things organized for the day with about fifteen minutes to go. Got my race bib and changed into my Vibram Komodo Sports and then jogged to the port-a-john before the starting gun went off. Got settled in the back with our signature purple “Doodah” Man shirts on. Things always start off jovial and it is fun for the first few miles to just cruise, swap stories, make funny projections and whimsical remarks and just enjoy the moment. I knew that I was in good shape and had put in the training so I was expecting great things. I was NOT, however, expecting the H-E-A-T.
“SPRING CHICKENS” HOURS 1 & 2 : Starting clicking off miles rather quickly somewhere between 10:00 and 10:20 pace. Before I knew it I had run non-stop for nearly an hour and a half. I had been drinking bottles every two miles or so, and as of yet had not felt any adverse effects of dehydration. That would soon change. Emm hung tough and ran by my side for most of the time. Harry had done three or four laps and then passed out in the tent watching a movie with Jonn. Mom, Jane, and Su walked together and Su in the second hour ran a few laps with me.
“OLD DOGS” HOURS 3 & 4 : Stared to heat up. By about 9:30 temperature was starting to climb into the 60s. I was quickly getting overheated. I continue to down bottles every mile or two. Before I knew it I was already on bottle six or seven of Powerade. Big Mistake. In training I frequently only drink water and take salt tablets and/or drink Heed. I found a good deal on Powerade for 88 cents a bottle at the store and decided it was a good find. Kept taking a handful of honey wheat pretzels every third or fourth lap. This had worked well for me at BPAC two weeks ago. But something did not feel right. I felt the all too uncomfortable feeling that I sometimes get when I run too soon after eating dinner. I needed to find a restroom STAT.
I ended up making the journey to the restroom nearly eight times during the race (or at least the part that I was actually lakeside). I didn’t know at the time what was causing this stomach troubles, but I was quickly feeling depleted and dehydrated. I kept up the pace throughout, running a little faster in the two laps preceding each stop, running into the port a john and then exiting at just about the precise time Emm or Su came around.
Something wasn’t right however. I had to pee two times in the first hour, but then felt the urge but could not actually go after that. Each time I tried, my urine was getting yellower and yellower. Not good.
I had been dehydrated before. I’ve read “How To” stories and countless stories of ultra distance runners and the way they claw their way back from the bad side. This was going to take some true heroism.
I hit 16 miles just after 3 hours and felt pretty good. I was setting a good pace despite my issues. I was having a good time, or at least telling myself as such.
Chafing had been avoided until this point by using deodorant as a poor man’s body glide. I started suspecting that it was the Powerade that was leading me to bowel troubles. The sickingly sweet energy drink was quickly turning my stomach inside out.
Add to this the fact that the temperature was soon near 70 with blue skies and sun, and I started to resemble a slowly pressure cooked turkey. Something was just waiting to explode.
“GERIATRIC GOPHERS” HOURS 5 & 6
So this is what it had come down to. I pushed and did what I could, hitting 21 miles in 4 hours, but had resigned myself after this, to succumbing to the agony of de”feet”. My feet had started to hurt. I changed Vibrams at mile 16 and then again at 24. It didn’t seem to help. The asphalt was starting to turn my feet into meat tenderized stubs. I caught Emm at one point and had a serious heart to heart conversation about goals. Our initial goals had been for 40 miles (Emm had run 38 miles last year and wanted to best this score; my longest Vibram run before MTD had been 29.5 miles at BPAC two weeks before). We had both started so strong and had figured that even walking slowly the rest of the time, we could each easily get to 40 miles. However, what we had failed to take into account during these assertions were the tolls that direct sunlight and rising temperatures have on the ultrarunner’s body.
Before long I voiced my concern; “I’ve been to the bathroom nearly five times and my stomach isn’t feeling too great.” “Mine either!” Emma confirmed. “I really think that I am going to have to seriously adjust goals here to be successful”. “Me too.” We decided a more likely goal would be to focus on getting each other to the marathon distance by any means possible. This included slow jogging and speed walking, and actually my favorite type of movement - a slow, hand-holding walk around the lake.
Emm and I decided that we’d shoot for a manageable goal. Emm has not had a great spring of training with work and all and has done a lot of P90X and elliptical use in lieu of training. She decided to shoot for anything over a marathon and would end up logging 27 miles when all was said and done.
There is something about wandering aimlessly under the sun in circles trying to find the finish line each lap, and then willing yourself to push on for yet another lap that makes you start to think, “Is it true what they say? Am I in fact a little crazy?” If ever there was a day for affirmation, today was that day.
“ARTHRITIC AARDVARKS” THE EPILOGUE: HOURS 7 & 8
After I hit the marathon distance I knew anything afterwards was just bonus. I was not seeking to kill myself, especially with a birthday marathon just two weeks away with hills that could kill even the strongest hill climbers, as well as a 12 hour in July and a 50 mile trail race in September. My goal was simple, to help Su, and Mom, and Emm achieve their goals. We kept going and soon propelled Emm over the finish line with 27 miles logged. I then found my mom and Aunt Jane coming around. Jane had some serious blisters giving her troubles (yes, these blisters could even rival mine!). They were shooting for 50 laps, but Jane’s feet weren’t going to allow it. I sat down with Emm in the shade of a tree as Su and Mom kept going. Jane ended up stopping with about 19 miles logged. Su was dead set on not only becoming a marathoner, but an ultramarathon warrior princess.
55 laps. That became the new goal. Su wanted it. And I knew she would do what she could to make it. My mom wasn’t far off either, down about 8 or 9 laps to Su-Su. After Jane and Emm and I had stopped, I switched into Crocs since my swollen feet were killing me. I could walk. I couldn’t really run, but I could walk. I walked a couple laps with Mom and Su. They were getting closer. Rocco got there with three laps left for Su, and after doing two with mom and Su, mom decided to go and do a lap or two to get even with Su so she could finish her 50th lap when Su finished her 55th.
It was really inspiring to see Su finish her first marathon/ultra. It is really something. I guess I don’t really think about it, but not many families can say that their mom, dad, sister, wife, and sister-in law are all marathoners. I have no doubt that one day Aunt Jane, Jonny, and Harry will also become marathoners!
Shelley really puts on one of the best races I have ever run. It’s supportive, a great environment, and everyone just has a great time.
The last hour we were lakeside, before we decided we had had enough and opted to go lay down in the A/C and go to Olive Garden, we were watching an epic battle unfold. Mary DaSilva had battled cramps and an upset stomach and “only thrown up a couple times’ and was coming back to try to get her USATF 12 Hour Record for her age group. Michael “Dreddy” Welden and Egils Robs were in a battle to end all battles. It was really something watching them try to fight for every lap and watching the tactics play out. I was amazed that they ended up logging nearly 67 and 70 miles! Rebecca Schaefer snuck up and finished second overall yet again, this time logging close to 62 miles. I was a little upset with myself in that for the first four hours I was on the same lap and had eventually passed her and was ahead of her for some time. If only the cards had been in my favor and I could have continued. In hind sight, I would have been near the top 20 if I had just kept moving. There is no doubt in my mind that I would have at least tied the distance I ran last year if conditions were right, but there is nothing wrong with 32 miles of movement.
I’ll take it in stride and start thinking about next year and planning a comeback. Kind of crazy to think that this is the fourth marathon/ultra that I have completed this year, and this was my 8th marathon/ultra total. Some in my extended family call me a freak, but I think I am just a lost 25 year old ultra runner trying to find his way.
It just so happens that I find that way by running in circles. Lots and lots of them. Best item in the goody bag this year was a MTD12HOUR bumper sticker (which I have already added to Pre the bumper sticker clad Prizm). It reads “I RUN IN CIRCLES”. Epic.
2012 is not over. There is still hope that I will have a good race or two in me. And if not, I will continue my pursuit to get the good miles in to make 2013 even better. I am dead set on seeing BPAC and MTD 2013 being MY races.
Onwards. Upwards. Always Forwards. Always moving forward. That’s the key.
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