How Much Discomfort Can I Tolerate?!

The night before the race I cubed 2 large Yukon Gold potatoes and boiled them for 10 minutes, placed the soft tubers in a bowl, covered them lavishly with salt and rosemary, and was then content to get some sleep, knowing I was going to be able to eat my racing super food when things started to get rough.

During the 2 hour drive to Pekin I thought about how my racing plan at Farmdale probably wasn't optimum. I kind of knew it then, but still wanted to try it for the sake of experimentation. It is too easy to accept the current running dogmas spouted in books, but it is best to doubt the veracity of everything and everybody, including myself. For this race I decided to push into my top pace right from the start, back off one pip, then try and hold that pace the whole race. I was hoping that the one pip of less intensity off my top pace would save not only my legs, but also from bonking during the later stages of the race.

I arrived at 6:15am and it was still dark. After registering I sat in my warm car and tried imagining running in the dark woods which surrounded me. It seemed disconcerting, lonely, and a bit frightening. But knowing that lots of other runners were bopping along in the night woods would probably make it seem not as bad as it appeared. As the sun began to rise my nocturnal running fantasy waned and I set up my food supplies in the back seat of the car, stripped down to my shorts and running shirts, and headed to the start line.

It was about 35 degrees and windy, so I was looking forward to running hard right off so I could warm up. I had to use the port-o-potty but the line was long and the race was starting in a few minutes, so I decided I would wait 10 miles.

With the sound of a gun we were off.  After making a hard left after 20m in the still somewhat dark shadows of early morning, I found myself running on a steep 300m downhill of uneven mud and slop. My shoes sometimes sank ankle deep, and at least I no longer had to worry about keeping my feet dry. When we reached the bottom of the hill I saw a large rectangular meadow, and we ran around the perimeter until seeing a sign which directed us onto a narrow, muddy path which went straight up. We soon got off the muddy path and ran across a big grassy field which lead us back near the starting line. I saw the port-o-potties, no line now, and I decided to run 150m off course so that I wouldn't have to wait 9 more miles. I lost about 3-4 minutes here, and was surprised that when I got back on course there were still runners behind me. I had started out quickly, was probably near the lead, and now I was near the back of the pack.

Getting off the grassy field, we entered the muddy woods and I got into a nice rhythm, passing a few runners when the trail was wide enough to do so. I saw Chris M., who directs the Clinton Lake race in the spring, and said hello as I passed. He asked in a surprised voice if I was running the 10 miler (this race offered either a 10 miler or a 30 miler). I turned back as I sped away and replied that I was running 30. "Your going too fast for 30!" he yelled; I laughed, and said, "I will find that out in loop 3." I guess I had a quick pace going, but it seemed easy, and I then knew that my speed fitness was beginning to catch up with all the endurance work I have done in the past year. Most of my training during the past month or two has been run at below 7:00 pace for the 1000m loops, and below 6:00 pace for shorter intervals. I thought about the hard 8 x 400m sprints I did earlier in the week, how they crushed my lungs and tested my will - as I merrily ran through the mud and hills I could feel the physical and mental strength gained.

Bill from 2nd Wind called out to me when I passed him, I had never spoken to him, but his training partner works with my wife at the library, so we talked a little about the course and he gave me some info on what to expect. At some point in our conversation we started running up a steep muddy hill and when I got to the top I didn't hear Bill, I turned around and he was a ways back. I continued along, feeling a little awkward because I didn't get a chance to say goodbye.

I had read a lot about McNaughton Park, the race reports from previous years were filled with graphic descriptions of the mud and hills. So far the course was not a disappointment, with all the rain we have had the past few weeks, the trails were a sloppy, thick stew, and the hills were frequent, mostly short and steep.

I caught up with a strong looking female runner and decided to follow along at her pace. We talked a bit, and I discovered that she had run this course a number of times. It was about this time that I realized getting around the course was not simple. While most turn offs were clearly marked with a yellow/green ribbon, some sections were difficult to determine how to proceed. Even though the female runner I was with had a knowledge of the course, we somehow got off trail and wandered around lost for a few hundred meters, wondering where we had gone wrong. We eventually found our way back to the correct trail, and I was glad to be with her, because I was beginning to feel disoriented.

We came to the first creek crossing, and the word "creek" does not do it justice. It was about 8m wide, thigh deep, and had a strong current. Before entering the frigid water a volunteer warned us that the middle of the creek contained a drop off. Even with this knowledge, I still  lost my balance when I stepped into the hole, and was lucky not to fall into the water face first. I managed to get across without getting carried away downstream, and I soon left the female runner and struck off on my own.

About a mile later I came to a very steep downhill. I stopped myself and wondered if I was going the correct way. I saw that there were footmarks and skids in the mud, so I decided I was not lost, and started my way down. I immediately lost my footing and slid down the hill sideways, once again my luck held and I managed not to fall. When I got to the bottom I ran for 30m and then the trail disappeared. I looked around in all directions and there was no way to proceed but back up the hill. I kept my humor, laughed, and started my way back up the muddy incline. I inserted my fingers into the mud, pulling myself up step by step. I slid down a couple of times, readjusted, and finally made it back to where I had started from. I looked around trying to determine where to go. I decided to wait for another runner, and stood around for a minute. I soon saw a group of 3 men making their way up a hill toward me. When they got to the top they stopped, then made a sharp left down an adjacent hill - I had missed the turn off arrow - so I started running after them.

I quickly caught up with the men and decided to slow my pace down and hang with them. I felt like I was going to get lost if I struck off on my own, so I relaxed and enjoyed the scenery as I loped along at a comfortable pace. Even though I had traversed a number of steep, muddy hills, my legs were still strong and fresh, and I hoped this feeling would last as long as possible.

Soon we arrived at Golf Hill, the infamous hill with a rope running along the side. On this day there was no rope, so I dug my fingers into the mud to assist my ascent. Having already skied down and climbed back up a steep muddy hill when I got off course, this one actually seemed a little easier, so there was something positive to be said for getting lost. As I was half way up this beast I thought of Kickstand Pam's excellent description :

The single track got very narrow in spots. There was just a step or two before it would just drop off. I started to fall again. To make it worse the song Falling Slowly started in my head and I couldn't get rid of it. UGH!!! What am I doing here? We reached the rope climb. Did I mention there's a part of the run that is so steep that you have to pull yourself up by a rope? The first two times I felt good. The last loop I was tiring and was shocked when I was feeling my arms give. A group of experienced trail guys were making their way up when we reached it. Everyone went one at a time. Caroline then took her turn. Then I went. As I was climbing I saw a man from the corner of my eye get on all fours and scale the mud. My concentration was blown. I lost my footing and I smashed into the ravine. I was mad, my ego was completely blown to pieces and this monkey man passes me and all I can say is wow. When I'm thinking I was to say, Um do you mind, can you see I'm in front of you, wait your TURN!!! Then he has the absolute nerve to snap at me - what did you say? All I could say was - I said wow. Oh, thanks he says and keeps going as I'm now swinging from side to side. I wanted to just go home.

Getting to the top I felt great, and decided that I was going to have to take my chances, so I passed the group and began running alone. I galloped along for 2 or 3 miles, weaving in and out of woods and  fields. As I ran along the perimeter of one of the fields I saw a man coming toward me. I knew I must be lost again. We both stopped and questioned each other about where we were going. We decided that we would continue going in the direction we already were running. About 1 minute later I hear a loud yell coming from the direction of where the guy must be by now. I decided he was trying to tell me I was going the wrong way, so I turned around and ran to where an arrow pointed me in the direction I was going before. I wasn't sure what to do, as the arrow on the plate clearly told me to go where I had just come from. Soon I see the same group of guys who had rescued me before. When they reached the arrow they immediately went into the woods! I had missed the entry path into the woods, I felt a bit foolish, but that's ok, I was still feeling great. One of the guys made a crack about me being a nice guy and waiting for them to catch up, I just laughed and got my revenge by passing them and starting out boldly on my own again.

A mile later I caught up with a guy named Paul who was running a decent pace so I slowed down and ran with him. We talked some, and then we got to the 2nd creek crossing. This one was also thigh high, but it lacked the strong current and the hole in the middle, so it was a piece of cake to cross.  A few times we both stop mid trail, look around, and say "are we lost?" We eventually see the start/finish area 200m away. We run quickly through the grassy field and I wish Paul luck as we run across the clock line. I had finished the first 10 mile loop in 1:55.

Considering the 3-4 minute time loss in the port-o-potty, getting lost twice, the extra distance thus added, and the mud and hills, I considered this to be a good time. My plan was to try to duplicate this pace 2 more times.

I ran to my car to refuel on potatoes, lemonade mixed with chia seeds, a table spoon of honey, 6 ounces of V8, sweet peanuts, and half a banana. At Farmdale 2 weeks ago I had hurt my left wrist from carrying my waterbottle, and it was still sore when I bent it, so for this race I decided not to carry my water, just run free and easy with no baggage. Because it was cool and breezy, I figured I would not sweat much, and hoped hydrating every 5 miles would be sufficient. I had gotten a few comments during the first loop, asking if I was a 10 mile runner. I wondered why they were asking me this, but thinking about it now I realize that my somewhat quick pace and the fact I was not carrying a bottle and had no fuel belt probably made them wonder if I was being stupid.

Loop 2

Unlike Farmdale, I was not ready to crank down the pace during the 2nd loop. Holding my pace one pip below max kept me from feeling tired and worn out, and I started the 2nd  loop feeling just as good as the 1st. 

As I got onto the initial downhill mudslide, I saw two runners at the bottom of the hill, and when I got to the bottom I noticed one not far behind. In the field the runner caught up to me and I picked up my pace a bit and followed him until we reached the other two. The 4 of us started our climb into the woods, and when we got into the open grass field they slowed to a walk. The field was uphill for about 200m, but not very steep, and I wondered why they were walking, but I decided to walk also, as I thought it would be good idea to stick with some runners for a bit.  

When we got back into the woods and started confronting the hills I noticed that the 3 guys ahead of me would slow to a walk, and once on the downhill the leader would run all out, getting far away from me, as I was taking my time on the downhills because of the risk of slipping on the mud. It reminded me of Farmdale when the lead runner of our 3 man group was crushing the downhills at full intensity, but after a mile of this had to slow to a walk due to exhaustion. I wondered if the same thing was going to happen today, and about a mile later the lead runner pulled off the trail and let us pass him. I wondered about the logic behind running hard on the downhills if one cannot keep a steady pace after.

To my surprise the group started to slow after 3 miles so I decided to push ahead, more confident now that I was seeing the trail for the second time. I was running close to the pace of the first loop, which pleased me, and nothing out of the ordinary happened as the miles passed under my feet.

At about mile 8 I caught up with a runner who I had earlier seen fall on one of the wood bridges. I asked how he was feeling and he said the fall had done no harm. He told me this was his first trail race and that he found it amusing that it took him almost 2 hours to run 10 miles because on flat pavement he could run 10 in 1:15.  A runner behind us said, “keep running trail races and you will find that to be common.”

As we neared the finish of loop 2 I thought about my time and wondered if it was close to the 1st loop. When the clock came into view it read 3:55, and since I had started the 2^nd loop at 2:00 (5 minutes to refuel at my car), it was another 1:55. Since I did not get lost and had no potty breaks I had slowed by 5 minutes. When I got to my car to eat and drink I realized my legs were still in good shape, so after eating 5 potato chunks, more honey and lemonade/chia, the other half of the banana, and a kiwi, I set off for the final loop.

Loop 3 

The first mile of the 3^rd loop I saw the two runners I had finished the 2^nd loop with, but I soon passed them and when I entered the woods at mile 2 I did not see another runner for 6 miles. I was running strong, ran most of the hills, and kept a steady pace. I started to push hard after the 5 mile aid station. My quads were starting to get stiff, but it wasn’t hindering my pace or energy level. I was surprised how quickly I was reaching all of the landmarks – the creek crossings, golf hill, etc. It appeared that I was going to hold out with a steady pace until the end of the race.

At mile 8 I saw a female runner dressed as a butterfly. I told her she had a nice costume as I passed, and she mentioned something about being looped. I respected her tenacity and endurance, knowing she was going to be running for another 3 hours.

After the final creek crossing I started to push the pace, and fought hard to the finish. I crossed the line in 5:50, having run the final loop in 1:50 (started the loop at 4:00). It was a success to run an even pace throughout, and although the average pace was 11:40, the same as the 50 miler in September, I still thought I ran fast enough considering the difficulty of the course. My legs held up on the hills, and I am hoping to have a fast recovery so that I can continue my speed training and racing.