Sometimes you show up for a run and you realize it isn't really about the run. That is not the case at Laurel Valley. Nothing matters here except you and the 35 or so miles of trail, gorges, rivers, rocks and a state line. This race is pure and that makes it special.
I had heard about this race from friends, and read a few things online, so I sent in my check and hoped that race director Claude Sinclair would let me run. This race has no aid stations and I believe the permit only allows for so many runners, so Claude won't just let any yahoo show up and run. Luckily my race results were up to snuff and I was granted a number and a chance to wear it on a voyage through Gorges State Park.
This is a point to point race that starts near a little mountain town called Rocky Bottom, SC. If you want to stay the night in Rocky Bottom, you better get a tent or sleep in your car. My friend John and I were driven to the start by his lovely wife Katie. It was quite a drive up some winding mountain roads. Mario Andretti has nothing on Katie.
I believe the race started at 6am, but it could have been 5am. I was floating between time zones, but what mattered is that it was dark and slightly drizzling. Normally first time runners are supposed to be what is called a "Sweep". Sweeps stay in the back and make sure everyone finishes and doesn't have any problems. This also helps to ensure a sweep doesn't get lost on the course for hours, days, weeks. Again, I was lucky and Claude decided he had enough sweeps for this year and I was given freedom to run ahead.
The race starts on steps that climb out of a gravel parking lot. You go up, and then you go up some more. As a rookie I was content to stay in the middle of a big group despite the pace being slower than I would have liked. At some point you reach the top of this climb, it didn't seem like more than a mile, and at this point I ran ahead of the group on a downhill and flat section.
The reports I had heard were that the first 8 miles was the most runable section of the course so I was going to run. I was catching and passing people fairly regularly until I found a group with the unmistakeable Huntsville Track Club Mountain Mist 50k hats. We ran and chatted for awhile talking about past and future races until we hit the first big waterfall overlook at mile 8.
Perhaps it was the slow start or maybe my legs just felt that good, but I picked up the pace. The race crosses over a few major rivers (thankfully with mostly nice bridges) and along some single track and old logging roads. One thing the course does not have is any aid stations. That means you have to carry your own food and use those rivers as your water supply. There are a two options when drinking from a river, sterilize, or risk it. I got a filter called a Sawyer Squeeze and it worked great for me.
This was my first real race effort since the Rocky Raccoon 100 in February, so while I didn't really have any major time goals, I was hopeful to finish in less than 10 hours. Based on what other runners were telling me, I was on pace to finish in less than 9 hours as ran past Horse Pasture river somewhere past mile 20.
When a tree falls in the woods and I am around, it makes a very loud freaking sound! This happened and I was amazed at how long it takes a tree to fall and what it sounds like when it does fall. At first you hear a pop sound. That is followed up by a creaking where you see the tree moving ever so slowly. Luckily this particular tree, a huge hardwood, was up near the ridge and was not falling at me. As the tree continues to fall it picks up speed and gets louder until it is a roar that ends with a massive thud. When all was done the top of the tree landed just a few feet from the trail and about 40 feet behind me.
Bright white blazes mark this course, and they are pretty easy to see. Somehow, every year people get lost. This year, I was one of those people. I blame myself for trying to run and adjust my hydration pack at the same time. You see, I was out of water and there was a stream. All I needed to do was find a good access point and I would be able to refuel. As I kept running down the logging road the clear white blazes took a left. A matter of moments later I was refueled and off running up a logging road in the wrong direction.
The spider webs were the first real clue. When you are not leading a race and you are running into webs, you are probably lost. I back tracked about a half mile till I saw what I was convinced was a white blaze. Now it might have been a white blaze, but it was definitely not a bright white blaze, but I wanted to believe I was kicking that much ass and that was the reason I had not seen any other runners in 30 minutes. I kept going the wrong way, probably close to two miles the wrong way until I came to a giant mud puddle. The lack of foot prints was conclusive evidence that I was lost. I was also now very angry. I knew this detour would cost me at least an hour. I ran down the way I came and 30 minutes later I see another runner taking a left turn where I should have.
The rest of this race was really pretty, but I was all caught up in how much time I had lost and then trying to make it back up. I ran hard, went through a lot of water, and then on the next climb I pretty much died. The next several miles were pretty slow as the course seemed to go mostly up. On the next down hill I caught a few people and this at least gave me hope. Crossing the next river I was told that it was only a few miles to the finish. This news was great and I began to move fairly quickly to what I was told was a dreadfully long uphill stair climb to the end. Sadly, the stairs never came and I began to slow. It must have been about 4 miles later I came to a split in the trail. The Blue trail indicated a parking lot was less than a mile away. I probably knew this was the wrong way, but I hoped it was right. I figure it was about half way up where I got my proof. A leather clad European couple came down toward me. I asked them if there was a race finishing in the parking lot. As he took a puff of his cigarette, she said, "There is nobody else up there."
Now I'm tired, angry, lost, and breathing cigarette smoke. I quickly move down the trail and back to the original trail. Thankfully, I see another runner who directs me in the proper direction and says, "just three miles that way."
I'd like to say I was moving quickly, but by now it was a quick walk to a slow trot and I was just content to finish in under 10 hours. Twenty minutes down the trail I run into an older fellow wearing a t-shirt that said something about ultras. He tells me that I have just three miles to go. I snap at him explaining that I was told the same thing two miles ago.
You hear the roar before you see the final falls. The wonder of the last falls is that there are two of them, and it is beautiful. The bridges crossing here are tricky with large rocks leading the way to the more substantive bridge. This is not easy to navigate even for someone who had not just run 35 miles.
Once crossing the falls, you have the climb. Some of the people at the base of this climb had made it out to be the toughest thing ever. They said it would take 30 minutes to get to the top. For a sub 10-hour finish, I did not have 30 minutes. The truth is, this climb wasn't that bad. I think I got to the top in less than 20 minutes. There is an observation deck overlooking the falls about 85% of the way up. I found it funny to be striding past the causal falls spectators who were struggling to climb the four flights of stairs. The stairs open up to a road, and a few hundred yards later you are at the finisher tent. There is no finish line or clock. All that waits is clapping, smiles, and hugs.
I got in with a time of 9:54:01. I figure I did at least an extra 5 miles so I can't be too upset with the time. The better news is that my body felt good, and there were no injury issues. I absolutely loved this course. This is a pure trail race, and that makes it awesome. I'll be back next year for sure.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Rocky Raccoon 100 Race Report
You think you know, but you don't know. The light from my cell phone lit up my face in the dark RV. People who make a living predicting the weather get it wrong damn near half the time; what was my phone going to tell me? Very clearly it told me this: Things were going to be a lot different. We had all come to Texas with expectations, goals and ideas of what we would accomplish. Now we were nervous and unsure.
I have several vices: pizza, good beer, the inability to say no. Last April my friend John started talking about the Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile Endurance Run. He's a good runner who regularly logs 200 miles a month. I am lucky to get 100 miles a month much less in one race. This was likely over my head. Vices are dangerous.
Races are fun, but adventures are better. My crew of John, Katie and Brad is excellent at creating adventure, and that was the goal of this trip. With camp site reservations, RV reservations and a bag full of too-few socks, we piled into a rental car and set the GPS from Birmingham to Huntsville State Park, Texas.
I fully recognize that people come of all maintenance levels, but if you are moderate- to low-maintenance, then camping before a race like this is the way to go. No, an RV is not legitimate camping, but it does allow for some level of comfort and weather protection, which I highly recommend. For our crew Brad had easily packed the most. He is a restless spirit and wants to be prepared for movies in the camper or a hostile zombie attack and he packs accordingly. John and I packed light, and with the exception of the most lavish comforter in all of Alabama, Katie did too. After a stop off in Louisiana Wednesday night, we arrived in Texas Thursday in time to pick up the RV, set up camp and enjoy campsite burgers with just a hint of lighter fluid. A few beers later, it was lights out.
Friday was all about relaxing. We had nowhere to go and nothing to do sans a packet pickup and the race meeting in the afternoon. That is where we first heard from Joe Prusaitis. He is the race director and his resume is far more distinguished than his straight-talking, take-it-or-leave-it, this-is-my-damn-race attitude. There is a reason this is one of--if not the largest—100 milers in the country. The reason is Joe.
During this meeting the dark clouds moved in. Racers love to fret about things they can't control. Weather fits into that category. The 10-day forecast told us it would be warm, but the closer we got to race day, it started to tell us it would be wet. How wet? We've all run in rain. We thought we could handle it.
That night I met my parents and another Birmingham runner, Wade, for Italian food. Truth be, carbo-loading doesn't mean squat for a 100 miler, but traditions are hard to break and we found a nice little restaurant. We talked about expectations and the forecast and had a great time. We were full, dry, happy and we thought we knew what was going to happen in the morning.
I am almost positive the alarm didn't wake me up. It was probably the thunder. John was already awake, and I scurried down from my bed to get ready. Lube, dry socks, lube, dry shorts and headlamp all went on. John got caught in the rain on a bathroom trip and came back soaked strengthening my argument that we should run in as little clothing as possible. Shirtless, we got a ride to the start from Katie and Brad. Then we met Wade and jumped in his car. It was 10 minutes till the race was to start, it was raining, it was dark, we were all nervous and we weren't sure what was going to happen.
Nervous excitement is tempered at the beginning because a race like this starts like the line for Space Mountain at Disney World. We were tentatively jogging/walking along the dark trail, snaking back and forth surrounded by runners who all wanted to run faster, but either couldn’t because of people in front of them, or because they are smart enough to know there is no hurry in a race like this. We dodged some large mud puddles, hopped over countless roots and followed the glow of more than 300 hundred headlamps. John, Wade and I were running together, and the trail was easy here. The first three miles had rolling hills and several bridges down by Lake Raven, but nothing that I would call challenging trail.
The course had four aid stations and a total of five stops on every 20 mile loop. The first of these was the Nature Center, just 3.1 miles into the race. As I approached, concern over pace was at the top of my mind. The goal was a first loop under four hours, and that meant faster than a 12-minute pace. According to John and his GPS, we were averaging around 13 minute miles, and sure enough when we hit the Nature Center his distance read 3.1. Not fast enough.
Our crew was waiting here, standing in the rain as the conga line of runners came by. We peeled out of line, and Katie and Brad showed us where they were planning to setup our pop-up tent. This would be their home base for the next day and a half.
Out of the Nature Center, we picked up the pace. For a good few miles we all ran together and passed other runners at will and with ease, but eventually I felt like their pace was too fast, and as the least-trained runner I dropped back. I wondered when I would see them again.
The 3.1 miles from Nature Center to DamNation (a legendary aid station) were hillier than the beginning and also contained easily the muddiest part of the course. Mud is fun if you are a kid or if you are running a short race. On this morning you would have thought it was piping-hot magma sure to burn the soles of our feet. Eventually it did for many of us. Protecting your precious feet is so important to the runners, but eventually it is an exercise in futility and you say, "ahh screw it". As I rolled into DamNation, the darkness was giving way to a gray light, the rain still fell but not with angry fury, rather just an annoying reminder that it was still there and Mother Nature could torment us again.
There was much pre-race debate about what we would need in a drop bag. The course was set up to have two drop bags: one at the race start, and one at DamNation. I had a pair of shoes, a pair of socks, a shirt, batteries, lube, a bag with Aleve and salt pills. It was a relatively small bag compared to most, but it felt adequate. I added my headlamp. With a refuel of the water bottle, I was off for my next six miles.
You visit DamNation twice. It is remote and certainly a welcome site, given the next six miles. This section reminds me of a roller coaster. It starts going up and down for about three miles before it turns around and then snakes back and forth over some rolling hills. With just a few big mud puddles, this is one of the most runnable sections. By this point the runners have spread out nicely and I was running the downhills, walking the hills and doing a mix of both in the flat parts. As we passed 10 miles, it was hard not to think, “90 more to go.” That is a reality you cannot allow yourself to comprehend because it would kill you mentally.
When you get to the dam, you run across and can see back to the lodge on the other side of the lake. This is a tease of where you finish the loop, but also a welcome sign that you are close to a return to DamNation. After another refill, I was on my way.
Those that know me best know I hate several things: mushrooms, onions, smokers and Jeep roads. The trail from DamNation started out on the same single track that we ran to get to DamNation: the muddy, wet single track. Then it dumped out onto a jeep road. One of the veterans I was running with said, “This road gets longer every loop.” He was damn right, and by this point I was starting to hurt. It was only 15 miles in, and I did not think it was going to be like this.
My parents were set up at the Park Road aid station. I wasn't feeling good. but I pretended like I was a total badass. A smile and wave, and I was quickly into the tent where I refueled again, then scarfed down a cheese quesadilla. My plan was to treat this course like a 100-mile buffet, and so far I was.
I had just 4.4 miles to finish the first loop, but I was having doubts. In October I ran a marathon, 50-mile trail run and an Ironman. Those races left my posterior tibial tendon in shambles. Tough, hardheaded or just a moron, I waited until December to get treatment, then January to get the right treatment. Now I could feel it throbbing and my hips tightening up. I passed John and Wade coming out as I was going in to finish my first loop. They looked good. I was faking it, but making it and making it in 3:58.
I quickly grabbed my drop bag and sat down. I was No. 26, so I was on the first tarp. A change of socks, a handful of chewy cookies, two Aleve and I was out for loop two.
I thought this would be a pivotal loop. If I could do somewhere around five hours I'd still have a shot to finish, but any thought of a sub 24-hour finish was remote. I expressed my pain and concern at the Nature Center. I told my crew it didn't look good but I still thought I could finish. They gave me an Arby's roast beef sandwich and I was off.
By now the rain had slowed , maybe stopped, and the temperature was dropping. As I hit DamNation, I was muddy, wet and ready for a shirt. I was also making good time. During that six-mile roller coaster loop (perhaps a perfect nickname for not only the physical terrain but also the wild swings of emotions experienced) I was passed by the leaders. First Hal Koerner flew by, then Karl Meltzer. I found out Karl doesn't stop when he pees; he turns to an angle and waddles. Mad skills. Shortly thereafter, last year's winner Ian Sharman came by. I could tell he was not having his best day, and after he passed my I picked up my pace. I followed several yards behind Ian, which even caused him to look over his shoulder when he heard my footsteps. No worries Ian, I'm 20 miles behind you.
On the trip up we listened to a video that made fun of things ultra runners say. "I don't even warm up till 30 miles" was one of my favorites. Today it seemed true. Here I was at mile 28 and I felt great. Now I was bombing this section of the course, passing people left and right because I was coming through right after the leaders, people thought I was in fourth place. It didn't last long, but I had fun while it did and I got a ton of encouragement.
I set expectations pretty low for the second loop. My parents had gone back to the Park Road Aid station to await my arrival at mile 35, hoping that I would just make it there. A huge cheer erupted as I emerged from the woods, and I could tell they were thrilled and proud. I was feeling good, they were feeling good, but I had a long, long way to go and I wasn't sure what to expect.
A great crew can really help a runner out. The emotional and mental boost after seeing them can carry you for miles, and it carried me back to the start with a solid second loop somewhere around 4:40. Now, if I could just keep it up.
Spirits remained high when I hit the nature center at mile 43. I had changed shoes and was ready for another roast beef sandwich. A quick chat and I was back on the trail. The course was starting to dry up, but any hope of keeping new shoes and socks dry was silly. I had learned that the fastest way through this section was to follow the flow of water. Yes, it guaranteed a wet foot, but also gave you the best footing. Physics (or at least my physics) said the flow of water would clear away loose mud and sand, leaving you hard-packed sand for your feet.
One more pesky little rain shower doused us, but after that the weather cleared and a north wind began to cool off the course. My pace remained consistent with good speed on the down hills and a fast walk on the flat sections and uphills. By now it was routine, and I knew my pacer awaited me at the end of the loop. I figured this thing was going to happen.
The number of runners I saw was really starting to diminish. It was, after all, more than 10 hours into the race. Many of the 50-milers had finished, and no doubt there were some people who would drop out of the 100 miler. I picked up my headlamp from the drop bag at DamNation and started out to finish the last part of my third loop in the dark. My feet were starting to burn. I had blisters, but only on my left foot.
I am a fast walker. John is not. His short legs give him a short stride and while that seems to be part of his ability to stay injury-free, it makes it quite difficult to walk fast. I caught him just before the Park Road aid station. He was struggling. His feet were worse than mine and any hope of running the rest of the way was unlikely. We came into Park Road together but shortly after he told me to go on, and I did.
One of the coolest things about trail running is that I get to share the course with the elites of the sport. At my mile 58, 98 for Hal Koerner (wow, that makes me sound slow) he came up behind me. Now I was feeling good here, so of course I started running along side him. We chatted briefly and I congratulate him on great race. It was 200 yards of running, but it was some of the coolest 200 yards I had all day.
I came into mile 60 on a "Hal High," and it was another good loop somewhere around 4:45. This is also where I could get my hands on some more lube and get my pacer--if only I could find my pacer. And where was that lady who checked my feet for blisters 20 miles ago? I could find neither. My pace goal for a sub-24 hour finish was to be here at 13 hours. It had been about 13:40 and I started thinking, maybe. Maybe I can go under 24. One more lap like I just did and it would be possible.
After a long stop at the start I took off. No pacer, no problem. The iPod was cranked, the headlamp was on and I knew these trails. I popped out at the Nature Center, where I saw part of my crew, but exclaimed that I had no idea where my pacer was. Brad stepped up and said, “I'm right here.” We argued about where he was supposed to be. I was wrong. You see, it is hard to remember everything in a 100 miler. You get delusional. You forget things. You go crazy.
It was clear that Brad was ready. He may have resembled a member of Navy Seal Team Six more than a trail runner but minus a gun, he had it all. The hydration pack had pockets with pockets inside the pockets and loaded down must have weighed at least 20 pounds. He was eager because remember Brad has a restless spirit and it had been 14-hours since the race started. I took off my iPod, refilled the bottle and with pacer in tow, I knew what was going to happen. Sub-24 hour finish, here I come.
The course was still muddy--really muddy. It was also dark and I was running fast. Brad was a few yards behind me when I heard him yell out in pain. A half mile in Brad said, "I think I broke my ankle." I'm no doctor, but even a delusional, crazy trail runner could see Brad was not being a drama queen. I had no time for this and Brad had enough gear on him to survive till Wednesday. I was on the sub-24 hour train to DamNation. He said he would get back out and I bounded along in the dark without music, but with a clear goal.
I had salt pills in both drop bags. I took some at the beginning--maybe after the first loop, but eventually they became an afterthought. Things I learned at Rocky Raccoon: Salt intake is vital. My stomach had felt weird for a while. I mentioned it to John on the previous loop, but it wasn't till this point that it became a problem. I wanted to puke, but I couldn't. I needed to eat and drink, but my stomach was so damn full. This happened before. In October at the Pine Mountain 50 miler I thought I had heat exhaustion (and maybe I did). This was the same feeling, but it was much colder outside so I was confused. Instead of stopping at DamNation I kept moving. Ultra runners don't always make good decisions. By the nature of what we do as a hobby, you should automatically question our judgment. Walking this six-mile loop would cool me down and set me straight; that is what I thought. The roller coaster got me.
It was well after midnight and I can't say I remember much of this section. It was slow, dark and I was probably stumbling around the trail in a fashion more suited for Bourbon Street than the middle of the woods. I know I sat on a bench. I know someone asked me what was wrong. And I know he said the words "Western States" and "you need salt."
Independence and stubbornness can be positive and negative. For me they had been a real detriment. Finally back at DamNation, I asked for help. and as they have for thousands of trail runners, they came through. Lynn Ballard was the captain of this aid station, and at least at one point he helped me. Maybe it was just him, or maybe there is someone else that looks like him. Maybe everyone looked the same to me by now. I took three salt pills, some food and a chair in their heated tent. Next to me was a girl who was in worse shape. She was dropping for sure. That thought had crept into my head, too. The chair was so nice and on a few occasions, Lynn or someone had to wake me up. Was I asleep for long?
Aid stations are happy to see you, but they are happier to see you go. Their mission is to get you to the next stop on the course. DamNation was hell-bent on kicking me out. I felt like a kid telling his mom that he wanted to sleep five more minutes before getting up for school. My five minutes was up. With someone’s old windbreaker and some black gloves, I was sent back to the trail.
My watch said bad things. The fourth loop was already more than 4 hours old and I still had 8 miles to go. The clock’s bad news was offset by the fact that my stomach was working again. A belly full of food looking for a place to go meant I got gassy quick. I made a brisk walk to Park Road where my parents were absent, no doubt tucked away in a warm hotel bed. A PortAPotty was an equal reward though. It even had toilet paper--two rolls! Life wasn't good, but I was going to make it, at least to mile 80. The fourth loop took me 6:30.
Eighty was a relief. I had plenty of time to do 20 more miles. At mile 40 I tweeted and I wanted to do it again at 80 just to say I was going to finish. If I put it out there then I had to, right? This is when I saw the text from Katie. Her plan was to pace her husband, John, for the last 20, but unfortunately the mud and water had burned his feet up and blisters forced him to drop out. She told me she was waiting three miles down the road, and she was going to pace me home.
Blisters forced a lot of runners out of this race. 2012 had the highest DNF rate that I could find of any of the previous 20 years. My left foot was blistered badly and I had adjusted how I was walking: back on the heel of my left and a forward roll on the right. Not a pretty motion, but a forward motion.
The Nature Center at mile 83 was weird. John was in normal clothes. Brad was back in the camper in a splint, sleeping. John told me Wade was about an hour up the trail. Apparently, when he came through he and John had a conversation that ended with Wade saying, "I haven't seen John or Kyle in a long time." John says, "Wade, I am John and you've been talking to me."
Things get weird on the last loop. You think you know, but you have no clue. I was better than most, or at least Katie tells me I was. We actually passed a lot of runners here. My quick walk was fast enough that Katie had to jog at times. She was moving quick enough that she needed to take off her jacket. That made me feel good.
I think I’m tough and stubborn, but I have a very worthy adversary in Katie. The youngest of our group, she is by far the most mature and the glue that keeps our wagon together and rolling forward. She knew her mission tonight was to keep me moving forward and with a mix of motherly concern and positive reinforcement she was saying all the right things.
We stopped at DamNation. I sat down in a chair to change socks. Sitting down is a bad idea. The look on Katie's face when I took off my shoes said a lot. My feet were done. I lubed them again, but they were so blistered and wrinkled that it didn't matter.
The final trip on the roller coaster loop was nice and slow. We talked about a lot, most of which I can't remember. It was good stuff though, like the kind you would have with your friend on a long road trip. She wants to hike the Appalachian Trail but thinks she needs a trail name. "Stumpy" it is. I suggested if we go fast and pass people I'll be "Anya Left," but everyone will think I'm a girl.
After four loops you think you know the trail pretty well. I was not a good trail guide. I was convinced the dam was right around the corner, but I was wrong at least three times. When I finally saw it, oh what a relief it was.
The last time through DamNation was quick. A hot dog in a tortilla, a refill and goodbye. I felt like I should really thank those guys for saving my race, but I was upright, mobile and headed to the finish, and they had bigger problems than me to worry about.
The sun started to rise when I hit mile 94. Dawn brought out the crazy in me. The pace had slowed and I was seeing runners. They weren't really there. Ghosts of Rocky Raccoon past, but none of them were on the trail. All off stretching, or peeing or lying down. It was like Field of Dreams, where they couldn't cross over onto the actual trail. This only lasted about half a mile. It was on a jeep road--I'm telling you, those things are evil.
Katie busted out her phone to give my parents a heads up that I was coming up on Park Road. They wanted to meet me there. I was surprised to see how many other people were texting Katie looking for updates from the trail. It meant a lot to see how many people were up at 7 a.m. on a Sunday and checking up on me. Pretty damn cool.
At Park Road, I gave my parents a hug. My dad offered to do the last 4.4 miles with us and I was thrilled to have him. I told him it wouldn’t be fast. He is not a runner, but I don't think he was worried. By this point I was mentally and physically done. Both feet were blistered to hell. I was tired and ready to be done. Runners began flying by me in the last three miles. They weren't moving fast at all, I was just that slow.
When you see the road, that is when you know. The emotions start to creep in and you have to fight back tears. That is when all those painful steps, delirious hours, missing minutes, all of it is worth it. To share that with Katie and my dad was special. I was ready to finish, but I'm not sure I wanted that feeling to go away. If I could stay at 99.7 forever that would be fine with me. At the final road crossing you can see the finish. I stopped and hugged Katie. She truly was the MVP of the trip and doesn't deserve a belt buckle but a crown.
The finishing chute itself is not very exciting. It is plain, which is perfect. It’s soaking in the feeling, looking at the people waiting and smiling. I told my Dad I was going to try to run the last few hundred yards. It wasn't a pretty run, but we did it together side by side, all the way across the line. 27:43:53
The buckle is the first thing they give you. Not two feet over the line, it’s firmly in your hands, where you grip it tight like a rope over a ravine. Hugs, pictures and congratulations all seemed to happen rather quickly, and within a few moments it went away. The feeling from 99.7 on is gone. Now you are tired, and the longer you sit the stiffer you get. Bed sounds good, but can you sleep with your legs hurting this badly? Eventually, yes you can.
This was my first 100-mile race, and by all accounts this is one of the easier ones. To me, on this day, it wasn't easy. That said, I have plans to be back in Huntsville next year. Joe and the crew do a fabulous job, and I completely understand why this is one of the most popular races in the world. Huge thanks to my parents and crew. I could not have done it without them.
I learned a lot of lessons on the trails this year. You cannot have enough socks. Be prepared for blisters. Read up on how to treat and prevent blisters. I had blisters in places I don't get blisters. Nutrition can end it for you quick. I'll be monitoring my salt much better next time. Drop bags are good, but the plastic bins with trays where you can organize things are better. With these lessons I figure I'll be able to do much better next time. Now I think I know, but I probably still have no idea.
I have several vices: pizza, good beer, the inability to say no. Last April my friend John started talking about the Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile Endurance Run. He's a good runner who regularly logs 200 miles a month. I am lucky to get 100 miles a month much less in one race. This was likely over my head. Vices are dangerous.
Races are fun, but adventures are better. My crew of John, Katie and Brad is excellent at creating adventure, and that was the goal of this trip. With camp site reservations, RV reservations and a bag full of too-few socks, we piled into a rental car and set the GPS from Birmingham to Huntsville State Park, Texas.
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| Not exactly roughin' it |
Friday was all about relaxing. We had nowhere to go and nothing to do sans a packet pickup and the race meeting in the afternoon. That is where we first heard from Joe Prusaitis. He is the race director and his resume is far more distinguished than his straight-talking, take-it-or-leave-it, this-is-my-damn-race attitude. There is a reason this is one of--if not the largest—100 milers in the country. The reason is Joe.
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| Pre-race meeting with Joe |
That night I met my parents and another Birmingham runner, Wade, for Italian food. Truth be, carbo-loading doesn't mean squat for a 100 miler, but traditions are hard to break and we found a nice little restaurant. We talked about expectations and the forecast and had a great time. We were full, dry, happy and we thought we knew what was going to happen in the morning.
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| Weather radar at the race start. |
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| Drymax Socks Photo. I need a sponsor. |
The course had four aid stations and a total of five stops on every 20 mile loop. The first of these was the Nature Center, just 3.1 miles into the race. As I approached, concern over pace was at the top of my mind. The goal was a first loop under four hours, and that meant faster than a 12-minute pace. According to John and his GPS, we were averaging around 13 minute miles, and sure enough when we hit the Nature Center his distance read 3.1. Not fast enough.
Our crew was waiting here, standing in the rain as the conga line of runners came by. We peeled out of line, and Katie and Brad showed us where they were planning to setup our pop-up tent. This would be their home base for the next day and a half.
Out of the Nature Center, we picked up the pace. For a good few miles we all ran together and passed other runners at will and with ease, but eventually I felt like their pace was too fast, and as the least-trained runner I dropped back. I wondered when I would see them again.
The 3.1 miles from Nature Center to DamNation (a legendary aid station) were hillier than the beginning and also contained easily the muddiest part of the course. Mud is fun if you are a kid or if you are running a short race. On this morning you would have thought it was piping-hot magma sure to burn the soles of our feet. Eventually it did for many of us. Protecting your precious feet is so important to the runners, but eventually it is an exercise in futility and you say, "ahh screw it". As I rolled into DamNation, the darkness was giving way to a gray light, the rain still fell but not with angry fury, rather just an annoying reminder that it was still there and Mother Nature could torment us again.
There was much pre-race debate about what we would need in a drop bag. The course was set up to have two drop bags: one at the race start, and one at DamNation. I had a pair of shoes, a pair of socks, a shirt, batteries, lube, a bag with Aleve and salt pills. It was a relatively small bag compared to most, but it felt adequate. I added my headlamp. With a refuel of the water bottle, I was off for my next six miles.
You visit DamNation twice. It is remote and certainly a welcome site, given the next six miles. This section reminds me of a roller coaster. It starts going up and down for about three miles before it turns around and then snakes back and forth over some rolling hills. With just a few big mud puddles, this is one of the most runnable sections. By this point the runners have spread out nicely and I was running the downhills, walking the hills and doing a mix of both in the flat parts. As we passed 10 miles, it was hard not to think, “90 more to go.” That is a reality you cannot allow yourself to comprehend because it would kill you mentally.
When you get to the dam, you run across and can see back to the lodge on the other side of the lake. This is a tease of where you finish the loop, but also a welcome sign that you are close to a return to DamNation. After another refill, I was on my way.
Those that know me best know I hate several things: mushrooms, onions, smokers and Jeep roads. The trail from DamNation started out on the same single track that we ran to get to DamNation: the muddy, wet single track. Then it dumped out onto a jeep road. One of the veterans I was running with said, “This road gets longer every loop.” He was damn right, and by this point I was starting to hurt. It was only 15 miles in, and I did not think it was going to be like this.
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| Hurting early, at mile 15 |
I had just 4.4 miles to finish the first loop, but I was having doubts. In October I ran a marathon, 50-mile trail run and an Ironman. Those races left my posterior tibial tendon in shambles. Tough, hardheaded or just a moron, I waited until December to get treatment, then January to get the right treatment. Now I could feel it throbbing and my hips tightening up. I passed John and Wade coming out as I was going in to finish my first loop. They looked good. I was faking it, but making it and making it in 3:58.
I quickly grabbed my drop bag and sat down. I was No. 26, so I was on the first tarp. A change of socks, a handful of chewy cookies, two Aleve and I was out for loop two.
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| Mile 23 and I need a shirt |
By now the rain had slowed , maybe stopped, and the temperature was dropping. As I hit DamNation, I was muddy, wet and ready for a shirt. I was also making good time. During that six-mile roller coaster loop (perhaps a perfect nickname for not only the physical terrain but also the wild swings of emotions experienced) I was passed by the leaders. First Hal Koerner flew by, then Karl Meltzer. I found out Karl doesn't stop when he pees; he turns to an angle and waddles. Mad skills. Shortly thereafter, last year's winner Ian Sharman came by. I could tell he was not having his best day, and after he passed my I picked up my pace. I followed several yards behind Ian, which even caused him to look over his shoulder when he heard my footsteps. No worries Ian, I'm 20 miles behind you.
On the trip up we listened to a video that made fun of things ultra runners say. "I don't even warm up till 30 miles" was one of my favorites. Today it seemed true. Here I was at mile 28 and I felt great. Now I was bombing this section of the course, passing people left and right because I was coming through right after the leaders, people thought I was in fourth place. It didn't last long, but I had fun while it did and I got a ton of encouragement.
I set expectations pretty low for the second loop. My parents had gone back to the Park Road Aid station to await my arrival at mile 35, hoping that I would just make it there. A huge cheer erupted as I emerged from the woods, and I could tell they were thrilled and proud. I was feeling good, they were feeling good, but I had a long, long way to go and I wasn't sure what to expect.
A great crew can really help a runner out. The emotional and mental boost after seeing them can carry you for miles, and it carried me back to the start with a solid second loop somewhere around 4:40. Now, if I could just keep it up.
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| I am excited to tell my mom something |
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| Second wind? YEAH! |
One more pesky little rain shower doused us, but after that the weather cleared and a north wind began to cool off the course. My pace remained consistent with good speed on the down hills and a fast walk on the flat sections and uphills. By now it was routine, and I knew my pacer awaited me at the end of the loop. I figured this thing was going to happen.
The number of runners I saw was really starting to diminish. It was, after all, more than 10 hours into the race. Many of the 50-milers had finished, and no doubt there were some people who would drop out of the 100 miler. I picked up my headlamp from the drop bag at DamNation and started out to finish the last part of my third loop in the dark. My feet were starting to burn. I had blisters, but only on my left foot.
I am a fast walker. John is not. His short legs give him a short stride and while that seems to be part of his ability to stay injury-free, it makes it quite difficult to walk fast. I caught him just before the Park Road aid station. He was struggling. His feet were worse than mine and any hope of running the rest of the way was unlikely. We came into Park Road together but shortly after he told me to go on, and I did.
One of the coolest things about trail running is that I get to share the course with the elites of the sport. At my mile 58, 98 for Hal Koerner (wow, that makes me sound slow) he came up behind me. Now I was feeling good here, so of course I started running along side him. We chatted briefly and I congratulate him on great race. It was 200 yards of running, but it was some of the coolest 200 yards I had all day.
I came into mile 60 on a "Hal High," and it was another good loop somewhere around 4:45. This is also where I could get my hands on some more lube and get my pacer--if only I could find my pacer. And where was that lady who checked my feet for blisters 20 miles ago? I could find neither. My pace goal for a sub-24 hour finish was to be here at 13 hours. It had been about 13:40 and I started thinking, maybe. Maybe I can go under 24. One more lap like I just did and it would be possible.
After a long stop at the start I took off. No pacer, no problem. The iPod was cranked, the headlamp was on and I knew these trails. I popped out at the Nature Center, where I saw part of my crew, but exclaimed that I had no idea where my pacer was. Brad stepped up and said, “I'm right here.” We argued about where he was supposed to be. I was wrong. You see, it is hard to remember everything in a 100 miler. You get delusional. You forget things. You go crazy.
It was clear that Brad was ready. He may have resembled a member of Navy Seal Team Six more than a trail runner but minus a gun, he had it all. The hydration pack had pockets with pockets inside the pockets and loaded down must have weighed at least 20 pounds. He was eager because remember Brad has a restless spirit and it had been 14-hours since the race started. I took off my iPod, refilled the bottle and with pacer in tow, I knew what was going to happen. Sub-24 hour finish, here I come.
The course was still muddy--really muddy. It was also dark and I was running fast. Brad was a few yards behind me when I heard him yell out in pain. A half mile in Brad said, "I think I broke my ankle." I'm no doctor, but even a delusional, crazy trail runner could see Brad was not being a drama queen. I had no time for this and Brad had enough gear on him to survive till Wednesday. I was on the sub-24 hour train to DamNation. He said he would get back out and I bounded along in the dark without music, but with a clear goal.
I had salt pills in both drop bags. I took some at the beginning--maybe after the first loop, but eventually they became an afterthought. Things I learned at Rocky Raccoon: Salt intake is vital. My stomach had felt weird for a while. I mentioned it to John on the previous loop, but it wasn't till this point that it became a problem. I wanted to puke, but I couldn't. I needed to eat and drink, but my stomach was so damn full. This happened before. In October at the Pine Mountain 50 miler I thought I had heat exhaustion (and maybe I did). This was the same feeling, but it was much colder outside so I was confused. Instead of stopping at DamNation I kept moving. Ultra runners don't always make good decisions. By the nature of what we do as a hobby, you should automatically question our judgment. Walking this six-mile loop would cool me down and set me straight; that is what I thought. The roller coaster got me.
It was well after midnight and I can't say I remember much of this section. It was slow, dark and I was probably stumbling around the trail in a fashion more suited for Bourbon Street than the middle of the woods. I know I sat on a bench. I know someone asked me what was wrong. And I know he said the words "Western States" and "you need salt."
Independence and stubbornness can be positive and negative. For me they had been a real detriment. Finally back at DamNation, I asked for help. and as they have for thousands of trail runners, they came through. Lynn Ballard was the captain of this aid station, and at least at one point he helped me. Maybe it was just him, or maybe there is someone else that looks like him. Maybe everyone looked the same to me by now. I took three salt pills, some food and a chair in their heated tent. Next to me was a girl who was in worse shape. She was dropping for sure. That thought had crept into my head, too. The chair was so nice and on a few occasions, Lynn or someone had to wake me up. Was I asleep for long?
Aid stations are happy to see you, but they are happier to see you go. Their mission is to get you to the next stop on the course. DamNation was hell-bent on kicking me out. I felt like a kid telling his mom that he wanted to sleep five more minutes before getting up for school. My five minutes was up. With someone’s old windbreaker and some black gloves, I was sent back to the trail.
My watch said bad things. The fourth loop was already more than 4 hours old and I still had 8 miles to go. The clock’s bad news was offset by the fact that my stomach was working again. A belly full of food looking for a place to go meant I got gassy quick. I made a brisk walk to Park Road where my parents were absent, no doubt tucked away in a warm hotel bed. A PortAPotty was an equal reward though. It even had toilet paper--two rolls! Life wasn't good, but I was going to make it, at least to mile 80. The fourth loop took me 6:30.
Eighty was a relief. I had plenty of time to do 20 more miles. At mile 40 I tweeted and I wanted to do it again at 80 just to say I was going to finish. If I put it out there then I had to, right? This is when I saw the text from Katie. Her plan was to pace her husband, John, for the last 20, but unfortunately the mud and water had burned his feet up and blisters forced him to drop out. She told me she was waiting three miles down the road, and she was going to pace me home.
Blisters forced a lot of runners out of this race. 2012 had the highest DNF rate that I could find of any of the previous 20 years. My left foot was blistered badly and I had adjusted how I was walking: back on the heel of my left and a forward roll on the right. Not a pretty motion, but a forward motion.
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| Katie and I are ready for some quality time |
Things get weird on the last loop. You think you know, but you have no clue. I was better than most, or at least Katie tells me I was. We actually passed a lot of runners here. My quick walk was fast enough that Katie had to jog at times. She was moving quick enough that she needed to take off her jacket. That made me feel good.
I think I’m tough and stubborn, but I have a very worthy adversary in Katie. The youngest of our group, she is by far the most mature and the glue that keeps our wagon together and rolling forward. She knew her mission tonight was to keep me moving forward and with a mix of motherly concern and positive reinforcement she was saying all the right things.
We stopped at DamNation. I sat down in a chair to change socks. Sitting down is a bad idea. The look on Katie's face when I took off my shoes said a lot. My feet were done. I lubed them again, but they were so blistered and wrinkled that it didn't matter.
The final trip on the roller coaster loop was nice and slow. We talked about a lot, most of which I can't remember. It was good stuff though, like the kind you would have with your friend on a long road trip. She wants to hike the Appalachian Trail but thinks she needs a trail name. "Stumpy" it is. I suggested if we go fast and pass people I'll be "Anya Left," but everyone will think I'm a girl.
After four loops you think you know the trail pretty well. I was not a good trail guide. I was convinced the dam was right around the corner, but I was wrong at least three times. When I finally saw it, oh what a relief it was.
The last time through DamNation was quick. A hot dog in a tortilla, a refill and goodbye. I felt like I should really thank those guys for saving my race, but I was upright, mobile and headed to the finish, and they had bigger problems than me to worry about.
The sun started to rise when I hit mile 94. Dawn brought out the crazy in me. The pace had slowed and I was seeing runners. They weren't really there. Ghosts of Rocky Raccoon past, but none of them were on the trail. All off stretching, or peeing or lying down. It was like Field of Dreams, where they couldn't cross over onto the actual trail. This only lasted about half a mile. It was on a jeep road--I'm telling you, those things are evil.
Katie busted out her phone to give my parents a heads up that I was coming up on Park Road. They wanted to meet me there. I was surprised to see how many other people were texting Katie looking for updates from the trail. It meant a lot to see how many people were up at 7 a.m. on a Sunday and checking up on me. Pretty damn cool.
At Park Road, I gave my parents a hug. My dad offered to do the last 4.4 miles with us and I was thrilled to have him. I told him it wouldn’t be fast. He is not a runner, but I don't think he was worried. By this point I was mentally and physically done. Both feet were blistered to hell. I was tired and ready to be done. Runners began flying by me in the last three miles. They weren't moving fast at all, I was just that slow.
When you see the road, that is when you know. The emotions start to creep in and you have to fight back tears. That is when all those painful steps, delirious hours, missing minutes, all of it is worth it. To share that with Katie and my dad was special. I was ready to finish, but I'm not sure I wanted that feeling to go away. If I could stay at 99.7 forever that would be fine with me. At the final road crossing you can see the finish. I stopped and hugged Katie. She truly was the MVP of the trip and doesn't deserve a belt buckle but a crown.
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| We can see the finish |
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| It is barely more than a walk |
The buckle is the first thing they give you. Not two feet over the line, it’s firmly in your hands, where you grip it tight like a rope over a ravine. Hugs, pictures and congratulations all seemed to happen rather quickly, and within a few moments it went away. The feeling from 99.7 on is gone. Now you are tired, and the longer you sit the stiffer you get. Bed sounds good, but can you sleep with your legs hurting this badly? Eventually, yes you can.
This was my first 100-mile race, and by all accounts this is one of the easier ones. To me, on this day, it wasn't easy. That said, I have plans to be back in Huntsville next year. Joe and the crew do a fabulous job, and I completely understand why this is one of the most popular races in the world. Huge thanks to my parents and crew. I could not have done it without them.
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| My first belt buckle |
Monday, May 23, 2011
A Running Fool
I'm not sure how long it has been since I posted anything here, but the correct answer is too long. There are plenty of excuses but they are all terrible. I hope to do better because I have plenty to talk about.
So the new job is going well. As it is with any new job there are some growing pains and some transitions that can take time. I feel like the grove has been hit and I'm sure my boss is happy about that. Working for al.com is a totally different experience but one that so far I really love.
My friend jokes that he is retired from triathlon... right now I feel like I am too. Never mind that I am signed up for a ironman in October. It has been all running for me so far this year. Big goals out on the horizon are the Chicago Marathon and then the Rocky Raccoon 100 Miler. Yes, 100 miles. I thought at first that would be easy (proves how crazy I am). The cold hard reality is that I will be forced to do A LOT more training runs. Truth is, I race a lot, but I don't really run a lot. If this does not change I will not run Chicago fast and I won't come close to finishing the Raccoon.
Dog training continues and we have moments of greatness but Blue is still more Bluejo than Blue Angel. Patience, right? He has lost weight and is now a trim 57lbs.
I have the greatest friends ever and this weekend we are taking an awesome trip to the Ocoee River where we will be some white water rafting, trail running, good beer drinking, super chef Charlie Elmer cooking, paintball playing, partying and then relaxing fools! So much love.
I gotta run but here is something to add to your playlist.
Music you should be listening too includes: Hey Marseilles, Griffin House, and Aloe Blacc
So the new job is going well. As it is with any new job there are some growing pains and some transitions that can take time. I feel like the grove has been hit and I'm sure my boss is happy about that. Working for al.com is a totally different experience but one that so far I really love.
My friend jokes that he is retired from triathlon... right now I feel like I am too. Never mind that I am signed up for a ironman in October. It has been all running for me so far this year. Big goals out on the horizon are the Chicago Marathon and then the Rocky Raccoon 100 Miler. Yes, 100 miles. I thought at first that would be easy (proves how crazy I am). The cold hard reality is that I will be forced to do A LOT more training runs. Truth is, I race a lot, but I don't really run a lot. If this does not change I will not run Chicago fast and I won't come close to finishing the Raccoon.
Dog training continues and we have moments of greatness but Blue is still more Bluejo than Blue Angel. Patience, right? He has lost weight and is now a trim 57lbs.
I have the greatest friends ever and this weekend we are taking an awesome trip to the Ocoee River where we will be some white water rafting, trail running, good beer drinking, super chef Charlie Elmer cooking, paintball playing, partying and then relaxing fools! So much love.
I gotta run but here is something to add to your playlist.
Music you should be listening too includes: Hey Marseilles, Griffin House, and Aloe Blacc
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
2011 Update!!!
So it has been awhile since I've posted anything new. Things have gotten a little hectic in my life but all of it good so I'll give a quick update.
I started a new job with al.com selling advertising for the largest local media website in Alabama. This has been an awesome move for me and will allow me to continue to grow professionally. I'm very blessed to be working with great people with products I believe in 100 percent.
Since the Ironman in November I've taken some time off from the training but not from racing. Set a new marathon PR in Memphis with a 3:39 in early December. Also ran the Mountain Mist 50k in January and had a great race there as well.
Next up for me is the Mercedes Marathon in Birmingham February 13th, then Snickers Marathon in Albany GA on March 5th, and the Publix Atlanta Marathon on March 20th. I'm hopeful to throw down some fast times but you never really know.
One other development is that I have started a new round of dog training with Blue. I found some trainers at Talk Dog in Birmingham that are committed to the long haul with Blue. He suffers from some serious fear aggression but we are hopeful to get that corrected sooner than later. I've been spending time with the trainers a couple times a week and we are seeing some good progress.
That is all for now...
I started a new job with al.com selling advertising for the largest local media website in Alabama. This has been an awesome move for me and will allow me to continue to grow professionally. I'm very blessed to be working with great people with products I believe in 100 percent.
Since the Ironman in November I've taken some time off from the training but not from racing. Set a new marathon PR in Memphis with a 3:39 in early December. Also ran the Mountain Mist 50k in January and had a great race there as well.
Next up for me is the Mercedes Marathon in Birmingham February 13th, then Snickers Marathon in Albany GA on March 5th, and the Publix Atlanta Marathon on March 20th. I'm hopeful to throw down some fast times but you never really know.
One other development is that I have started a new round of dog training with Blue. I found some trainers at Talk Dog in Birmingham that are committed to the long haul with Blue. He suffers from some serious fear aggression but we are hopeful to get that corrected sooner than later. I've been spending time with the trainers a couple times a week and we are seeing some good progress.
That is all for now...
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
2010 Ironman Florida Race Report
People said you don't really know what to expect till you are in the middle of it. People were right, but it was a glorious feeling and a wonderful experience.
Either the great or terrible thing about Ironman races is that they almost force you to take a vacation since they spread out the meetings and parties so much. I loaded up the new Element and picked up John Gregg and his wife Katie Wednesday afternoon for the trip down to PCB. John has a place in Sea Grove that we along with our friend Colin Soniat and his wife stayed. We had to pick up our packets Thursday so after a quick last bike ride we went down to the race site.
The line was ridiculous and took two hours to get through but that is all part of the "Ironman" experience right?
I had cut down on my calorie intake on Monday and Tuesday so by Thursday night I was ready to pack them in, I recommend Pizza
By the Sea. Thursday night half price everything! Yes that included my Abita Andygator Beer.
Friday was rest day for all of us despite the fact that we saw several people seemingly hammering it as we went down to drop off our bikes at transition. By this point our friend Brad had joined us, he was there to spectate and support and joined us for the dinner at Angelina's Friday night. The temperature was quickly dropping, forecast temps for race morning were 40 degrees.
Typically it can be a challenge to sleep well the night before a big race, but I opted for a vodka tylenol PM mix to help do the trick and found myself getting a pretty decent night of sleep. We woke had a light breakfast and were on the road by 5am, and yes it was cold.
Mentally you have a list of things to do in your head once you arrive: put air in the bike tires, fill the water bottle, put roast beef sandwiches in the bike and run bags, take salt pills, find a place to use the bathroom... did I forget anything? For me this process all went very smooth. There just happened to be a bike pump right next to my bike, I filled my bottle, took some pills, stowed my sandwiches... didn't have to pee so I just waited around and watched Colin stress.
I issued a "guess my time challenge" race morning and was met with some very discouraging support. I distinctly remember hearing the words, "Kyle I would tell you but I don't want to hurt your feelings." This was 15 minutes before the swim and I won't lie, it motivated me.
Most people know that Kyle and swimming just don't go together. I hate to swim, I especially hate swimming in a pool which makes training a bit of a struggle. While this was by far the weakest part of my training I did get in two 1+ hour swims in the final two weeks before the race. I wasn't looking forward to the swim but I wasn't dreading it either... the goal survive and be under 1:30:00.
If you have not done an Ironman then you probably cannot appreciate the carnage that occurs at the first buoy of the swim course.
2500 people all coming together at one spot while trying to swim and fight the incoming waves. There is punching. There is kicking. There is gasping for air. There is NOT a lot of actual swimming. Point blank it is just way too congested to swim so you tread water, try to keep your head up and wait for space in front of you. Now I was feeling pretty good and comfortable in the water at this
point and the race was starting to spread out a bit so you could actually swim. Finished the first of two swim loops, ran out of the water and Muse's Uprising was playing on the big sound system. I love this song and it really fired me up. Back in the water for loop two where I was comfortable the whole way and left the water feeling great about the swim. The girl next to me said we were at about 1:20:00 which was way better than I expected.
The transitions at a race this big are a little different than a normal race. You have to run into transition, grab your "Swim to Bike" bag then race into a changing area. This area was nowhere close to big enough which led to slow transitions for everyone. Ten full minutes later I was changed, layered up, and ready to hit the bike.
I went with an interesting look for the bike leg, black long sleeve shirt, black and white tri shorts, pink and black argyle socks pulled up to the knees, and black gloves with green, yellow, orange, and pink stripes. I was going for loud and with my pink water bottle I think I nailed it.
Just about one mile into the bike I see my friend John Gregg. This made me feel even better abo
ut my swim since John typically comes out of the water well in front of me. We chatted for a bit and then he said I was in charge of setting the pace. Deep down my goal was to average at least 20 mph on the bike, but I also knew wind conditions would dictate the reality of that goal. I glanced back several times in the first 10-15 miles and John was always a few bike lengths back which made me feel good about the pace since he has done two Ironman races. At some point John disappeared and which left me to question my pace but since I felt no discomfort I charged forward in search of my friend Colin who was a good 15 minutes faster than me in the water. Some point between mile 30 and 40 I caught Colin, exchanged some pleasantries and continued on.
Going into the race I had two big strategies: Pace and Nutrition. The bike is the easiest place to do this since you can pack and bring stuff with you. I had the two roast beef sandwiches from Arby's that I ate at mile 25ish and mile 80ish. Also on board was a bottle of sports drink, salt pills, sports legs pills, and a bag of gummy bears. I know that is an odd collection, but I feel like having the real food helped even if only from a mental standpoint.
Back to the race, my strength is the bike so obviously this is where I wanted to bank time. I ended up going back and forth with a guy named Steven Conner. Turns out he and I were pretty much dead even. He even joked that we'd be great training partners. He's a few age groups older than me and had an absolutely great race and enjoyed the few hours on the bike and run where we got to chat. Now on the quest to average 20 mph I knew the winds were going to make it difficult. A Northwest wind of about 10-15 mph was not making the second half of the bike course easy but a final 20 miles down wind was enough to help me average 20.34 mph and come in at 5:30:24, a split that made me very happy.
The bike to run transition was much smoother simply because there were way less people. I plopped down in my chair to change looked across and saw my friend Clark Raymond. He's another local guy that I had done some training with leading up to the race. It was good to chat with him and it also was good to know I had someone I knew right there with me that would push me. Even though for most of us the goal is just to finish and race well, we all like to compete and you want to do a little better than the guy next to you.
I raced out for the run just a few minutes ahead of Clark and immediately felt really strong. It was very quickly out on the run that I came across my buddy Steven. He had dropped me somewhere around the second roast beef sandwich, so we ran together for a few miles before I let him surge ahead a bit. The challenge here is to control your pace. When you get off the bike it feels so good and you want to just go, but 26.2 miles is a long way still and going too fast in the first 5-10 miles usually will take its toll.
Run training has been a close second to swimming in areas where I under trained. My mantra had been the run all comes down to how tough you are anyway. The plan was to try and average 9:30's and see if I could hang on at the end. The challenge with averaging 9:30's is twofold. One that is pretty slow and not something I'm used to doing, and two I don't wear a watch. I asked around to others what their paces were and found that most of the first 6 miles it was faster than I wanted.
I had already seen my friend Jessica Jacobs when I started my run. She was coming in to finish her first lap and in first place overall for the women. There was no surprise when I saw her again at my mile 7 her mile 20. That is when she asked me to run with her. Wow, she's fast but I picked up and tried to give it a go. I didn't make it far, about a half mile before I had to let her go off and win the damn race. She smoked it and I was super thrilled for her and happy that I got to run with her for a bit even if it was only a few minutes.
At this point I caught back up to Steven and we ran together for a bit before I surged ahead. I was now passing a lot of people and while I was not feeling great, I've been worse. In the back of my head I also knew John, Colin, and Clark were all coming and surely going to catch me and I didn't want that to happen. The split for the first half was 2:01:00 which was great but I also felt like I could not hold that pace. The first time I stopped was just past half way where I saw Katie and Colin's wife Wendy. Tons of positive encouragement and I detected a decent amount of surprise that I was in first out of our little group.
The second half of the run is where most people fall apart. I had to try a different strategy here so that I would not fall victim to this. While I was able to run the whole first loop, I decided to walk the water stops for the second loop. I'd eat and drink then run to the next. I found while my pace was probably slowing overall, when I ran it felt good and probably even faster than 9:00's. My only complaint about the water stops was the sports drink flavor. Ironman has its own sports drink now called Ironman Perform and the flavor they chose to put on the run course was orange mango. That is a horrible flavor and I cursed about it many times. Coke and water got me through and before long I'm staring at mile 22 and realizing just four miles to go! Under 11 hours was not possible but I had a chance to finish before it got completely dark. The final stretch was very enjoyable and I made it a point to try and take it all in. With about a half mile to go I passed the cheering section of Katie, Wendy, Brad, and the Belser family which had joined the crowd now. They made a lot of noise and go a big smile out of me I'm sure. Crossed the finish line in 11:14:24 and was thrilled to be done.
I made it back to the cheering group in time to grab a beer and watch John and Colin run by to finish off two great races themselves. Huge thanks to those guys who without them training for this race would have been extremely difficult and very boring. They helped me share in an incredible weekend and a race that I thoroughly enjoyed from start to finish. Ironman #1 is done, but I think there will be another to come.
Either the great or terrible thing about Ironman races is that they almost force you to take a vacation since they spread out the meetings and parties so much. I loaded up the new Element and picked up John Gregg and his wife Katie Wednesday afternoon for the trip down to PCB. John has a place in Sea Grove that we along with our friend Colin Soniat and his wife stayed. We had to pick up our packets Thursday so after a quick last bike ride we went down to the race site.
The line was ridiculous and took two hours to get through but that is all part of the "Ironman" experience right?I had cut down on my calorie intake on Monday and Tuesday so by Thursday night I was ready to pack them in, I recommend Pizza
By the Sea. Thursday night half price everything! Yes that included my Abita Andygator Beer.
Friday was rest day for all of us despite the fact that we saw several people seemingly hammering it as we went down to drop off our bikes at transition. By this point our friend Brad had joined us, he was there to spectate and support and joined us for the dinner at Angelina's Friday night. The temperature was quickly dropping, forecast temps for race morning were 40 degrees.Typically it can be a challenge to sleep well the night before a big race, but I opted for a vodka tylenol PM mix to help do the trick and found myself getting a pretty decent night of sleep. We woke had a light breakfast and were on the road by 5am, and yes it was cold.
Mentally you have a list of things to do in your head once you arrive: put air in the bike tires, fill the water bottle, put roast beef sandwiches in the bike and run bags, take salt pills, find a place to use the bathroom... did I forget anything? For me this process all went very smooth. There just happened to be a bike pump right next to my bike, I filled my bottle, took some pills, stowed my sandwiches... didn't have to pee so I just waited around and watched Colin stress.
I issued a "guess my time challenge" race morning and was met with some very discouraging support. I distinctly remember hearing the words, "Kyle I would tell you but I don't want to hurt your feelings." This was 15 minutes before the swim and I won't lie, it motivated me.
Most people know that Kyle and swimming just don't go together. I hate to swim, I especially hate swimming in a pool which makes training a bit of a struggle. While this was by far the weakest part of my training I did get in two 1+ hour swims in the final two weeks before the race. I wasn't looking forward to the swim but I wasn't dreading it either... the goal survive and be under 1:30:00.
If you have not done an Ironman then you probably cannot appreciate the carnage that occurs at the first buoy of the swim course.
2500 people all coming together at one spot while trying to swim and fight the incoming waves. There is punching. There is kicking. There is gasping for air. There is NOT a lot of actual swimming. Point blank it is just way too congested to swim so you tread water, try to keep your head up and wait for space in front of you. Now I was feeling pretty good and comfortable in the water at this
point and the race was starting to spread out a bit so you could actually swim. Finished the first of two swim loops, ran out of the water and Muse's Uprising was playing on the big sound system. I love this song and it really fired me up. Back in the water for loop two where I was comfortable the whole way and left the water feeling great about the swim. The girl next to me said we were at about 1:20:00 which was way better than I expected.The transitions at a race this big are a little different than a normal race. You have to run into transition, grab your "Swim to Bike" bag then race into a changing area. This area was nowhere close to big enough which led to slow transitions for everyone. Ten full minutes later I was changed, layered up, and ready to hit the bike.
I went with an interesting look for the bike leg, black long sleeve shirt, black and white tri shorts, pink and black argyle socks pulled up to the knees, and black gloves with green, yellow, orange, and pink stripes. I was going for loud and with my pink water bottle I think I nailed it.
Just about one mile into the bike I see my friend John Gregg. This made me feel even better abo
ut my swim since John typically comes out of the water well in front of me. We chatted for a bit and then he said I was in charge of setting the pace. Deep down my goal was to average at least 20 mph on the bike, but I also knew wind conditions would dictate the reality of that goal. I glanced back several times in the first 10-15 miles and John was always a few bike lengths back which made me feel good about the pace since he has done two Ironman races. At some point John disappeared and which left me to question my pace but since I felt no discomfort I charged forward in search of my friend Colin who was a good 15 minutes faster than me in the water. Some point between mile 30 and 40 I caught Colin, exchanged some pleasantries and continued on.Going into the race I had two big strategies: Pace and Nutrition. The bike is the easiest place to do this since you can pack and bring stuff with you. I had the two roast beef sandwiches from Arby's that I ate at mile 25ish and mile 80ish. Also on board was a bottle of sports drink, salt pills, sports legs pills, and a bag of gummy bears. I know that is an odd collection, but I feel like having the real food helped even if only from a mental standpoint.
Back to the race, my strength is the bike so obviously this is where I wanted to bank time. I ended up going back and forth with a guy named Steven Conner. Turns out he and I were pretty much dead even. He even joked that we'd be great training partners. He's a few age groups older than me and had an absolutely great race and enjoyed the few hours on the bike and run where we got to chat. Now on the quest to average 20 mph I knew the winds were going to make it difficult. A Northwest wind of about 10-15 mph was not making the second half of the bike course easy but a final 20 miles down wind was enough to help me average 20.34 mph and come in at 5:30:24, a split that made me very happy.
The bike to run transition was much smoother simply because there were way less people. I plopped down in my chair to change looked across and saw my friend Clark Raymond. He's another local guy that I had done some training with leading up to the race. It was good to chat with him and it also was good to know I had someone I knew right there with me that would push me. Even though for most of us the goal is just to finish and race well, we all like to compete and you want to do a little better than the guy next to you.
I raced out for the run just a few minutes ahead of Clark and immediately felt really strong. It was very quickly out on the run that I came across my buddy Steven. He had dropped me somewhere around the second roast beef sandwich, so we ran together for a few miles before I let him surge ahead a bit. The challenge here is to control your pace. When you get off the bike it feels so good and you want to just go, but 26.2 miles is a long way still and going too fast in the first 5-10 miles usually will take its toll.Run training has been a close second to swimming in areas where I under trained. My mantra had been the run all comes down to how tough you are anyway. The plan was to try and average 9:30's and see if I could hang on at the end. The challenge with averaging 9:30's is twofold. One that is pretty slow and not something I'm used to doing, and two I don't wear a watch. I asked around to others what their paces were and found that most of the first 6 miles it was faster than I wanted.
I had already seen my friend Jessica Jacobs when I started my run. She was coming in to finish her first lap and in first place overall for the women. There was no surprise when I saw her again at my mile 7 her mile 20. That is when she asked me to run with her. Wow, she's fast but I picked up and tried to give it a go. I didn't make it far, about a half mile before I had to let her go off and win the damn race. She smoked it and I was super thrilled for her and happy that I got to run with her for a bit even if it was only a few minutes.
At this point I caught back up to Steven and we ran together for a bit before I surged ahead. I was now passing a lot of people and while I was not feeling great, I've been worse. In the back of my head I also knew John, Colin, and Clark were all coming and surely going to catch me and I didn't want that to happen. The split for the first half was 2:01:00 which was great but I also felt like I could not hold that pace. The first time I stopped was just past half way where I saw Katie and Colin's wife Wendy. Tons of positive encouragement and I detected a decent amount of surprise that I was in first out of our little group.
The second half of the run is where most people fall apart. I had to try a different strategy here so that I would not fall victim to this. While I was able to run the whole first loop, I decided to walk the water stops for the second loop. I'd eat and drink then run to the next. I found while my pace was probably slowing overall, when I ran it felt good and probably even faster than 9:00's. My only complaint about the water stops was the sports drink flavor. Ironman has its own sports drink now called Ironman Perform and the flavor they chose to put on the run course was orange mango. That is a horrible flavor and I cursed about it many times. Coke and water got me through and before long I'm staring at mile 22 and realizing just four miles to go! Under 11 hours was not possible but I had a chance to finish before it got completely dark. The final stretch was very enjoyable and I made it a point to try and take it all in. With about a half mile to go I passed the cheering section of Katie, Wendy, Brad, and the Belser family which had joined the crowd now. They made a lot of noise and go a big smile out of me I'm sure. Crossed the finish line in 11:14:24 and was thrilled to be done.
I made it back to the cheering group in time to grab a beer and watch John and Colin run by to finish off two great races themselves. Huge thanks to those guys who without them training for this race would have been extremely difficult and very boring. They helped me share in an incredible weekend and a race that I thoroughly enjoyed from start to finish. Ironman #1 is done, but I think there will be another to come.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Off to the Beach; Ironman Florida Preview
Somebody asked me how long I'd been training for the Ironman... I paused and realized, it has been two years. I really haven't changed much of my routine over the past six months. There hasn't been specific focus for this race. I don't have a plan or program. It has been two years of just going from one race to the next, getting fitter along the way. Sure I've done some longer rides, some longer swims, not really any longer runs, but if I were to say I've had a specific training focus for this race I'd be lying.
This afternoon the crew heads South to Panama City Beach. I'm lucky enough to have some friends with some killer beach house access. John Gregg and his wife Katie a cruising down with me. John and our friend Colin will both be doing the race as well. Always good to be there with some others so you can be excited/nervous together. John is a Ironman veteran, he did this race last year and Louisville earlier this year so I'm sure we will lean on him for advice. For both Colin and I this will be our first 140.6 mile race and that is kind of scary. You simply don't know how your body will hold up for 10 hours and since neither Colin or I have done that before we just don't know. I expect John will be the first to finish then who knows but with any luck we all come in within an hour of each other.
People have asked, "Hey, what's your goal?" When I hear this I think, do I say what is really in my head or do I go a little more conservative? Realistically I think anything under 12 hours would make me very happy. But when I look at the pure math and the best case scenario I can't help but think I could go under 11 hours. The keys to making this happen will be pace and nutrition. The problem is those are two things I struggle with greatly. Needless to say this weekend will be a big challenge.
We have to be down on Thursday for athlete meetings. I'm sure this is where the World Triathlon Corporation will tell us how great Ironman is and ask us to spend way too much money on their officially licensed products and upcoming races and tell us how great it is to be associated with Ironman. They may also mention the race day schedule and some rules. I'm sure we will also try and get in a nice light workout Thursday as well. Friday is set up day. Bike goes into transition, drop off our bags for both the bike and run and then relax.
I'm excited to get down there and knock this sucker out and hopefully have fun while doing it!
This afternoon the crew heads South to Panama City Beach. I'm lucky enough to have some friends with some killer beach house access. John Gregg and his wife Katie a cruising down with me. John and our friend Colin will both be doing the race as well. Always good to be there with some others so you can be excited/nervous together. John is a Ironman veteran, he did this race last year and Louisville earlier this year so I'm sure we will lean on him for advice. For both Colin and I this will be our first 140.6 mile race and that is kind of scary. You simply don't know how your body will hold up for 10 hours and since neither Colin or I have done that before we just don't know. I expect John will be the first to finish then who knows but with any luck we all come in within an hour of each other.
People have asked, "Hey, what's your goal?" When I hear this I think, do I say what is really in my head or do I go a little more conservative? Realistically I think anything under 12 hours would make me very happy. But when I look at the pure math and the best case scenario I can't help but think I could go under 11 hours. The keys to making this happen will be pace and nutrition. The problem is those are two things I struggle with greatly. Needless to say this weekend will be a big challenge.
We have to be down on Thursday for athlete meetings. I'm sure this is where the World Triathlon Corporation will tell us how great Ironman is and ask us to spend way too much money on their officially licensed products and upcoming races and tell us how great it is to be associated with Ironman. They may also mention the race day schedule and some rules. I'm sure we will also try and get in a nice light workout Thursday as well. Friday is set up day. Bike goes into transition, drop off our bags for both the bike and run and then relax.
I'm excited to get down there and knock this sucker out and hopefully have fun while doing it!
Friday, October 29, 2010
Ironman Florida, One Week Out
Here we are, just about one week away from Ironman Florida (my first and maybe only Ironman race) and I'm struggling with the question; am I ready? The answer is really irrelevant since there is nothing that can be done between now and then to make me more prepared. The hay is in the barn as one of my old coaches used to say.
Training has been interesting as of late, had a good ride last weekend where my leg blew up at mile 95... you might think that would be discouraging, but I thought it was good. To push the body to the point where it breaks means I got what I needed out of the ride, and I learned what not to do next Saturday! Swimming has been surprisingly good. I've had several long swims where I felt remarkably fresh so I'm not near as worried about that as I should be. As for the run... that is a great unknown at Ironman races. Because it is the last thing I do and I will have been out swimming and running for 7 hours already, I have no idea how my body will feel and perform. I've had a handful of good runs. Not nearly enough and not nearly long enough.
The plan is slow and steady and hopefully I can maintain. Eat plenty, drink plenty, and try to take in the race and enjoy. If I'm having fun the pain should be more tolerable, right? Time goals are dangerous and I feel like I should say my goal is to just finish, but in reality, that is not my goal. I want to go under 12 hours and I think I can.
Aside from how the race will go, another big uncertainty is Ironman Tattoo or not? It is pretty common for people to get the M Dot tattoo. A lot of finishers get it and I've gone back and forth on the idea. My friend John got one on his calf, I think my friend Colin will get one when he finishes. I was sold on putting one on my back/shoulder blade, then I wasn't sure, now I think I will. I guess I'll see how I feel after the race and if the accomplishment means enough to me to get inked.
All in all I'm excited. This will be an experience and something that I know will be tough and teach me a lot about who I am and how tough I am. Also really looking forward to drinking on the beach the day after the race too!
Training has been interesting as of late, had a good ride last weekend where my leg blew up at mile 95... you might think that would be discouraging, but I thought it was good. To push the body to the point where it breaks means I got what I needed out of the ride, and I learned what not to do next Saturday! Swimming has been surprisingly good. I've had several long swims where I felt remarkably fresh so I'm not near as worried about that as I should be. As for the run... that is a great unknown at Ironman races. Because it is the last thing I do and I will have been out swimming and running for 7 hours already, I have no idea how my body will feel and perform. I've had a handful of good runs. Not nearly enough and not nearly long enough.
The plan is slow and steady and hopefully I can maintain. Eat plenty, drink plenty, and try to take in the race and enjoy. If I'm having fun the pain should be more tolerable, right? Time goals are dangerous and I feel like I should say my goal is to just finish, but in reality, that is not my goal. I want to go under 12 hours and I think I can.
Aside from how the race will go, another big uncertainty is Ironman Tattoo or not? It is pretty common for people to get the M Dot tattoo. A lot of finishers get it and I've gone back and forth on the idea. My friend John got one on his calf, I think my friend Colin will get one when he finishes. I was sold on putting one on my back/shoulder blade, then I wasn't sure, now I think I will. I guess I'll see how I feel after the race and if the accomplishment means enough to me to get inked.
All in all I'm excited. This will be an experience and something that I know will be tough and teach me a lot about who I am and how tough I am. Also really looking forward to drinking on the beach the day after the race too!
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