Pre-Race and Start
I left the house early (just after 5) to make the 55 minute drive up to Lincolnshire and ensure I had plenty of time to do whatever I needed to do pre-race. As I was sitting in the car in the parking lot I happened to glance at my cars trip odometer… 47 miles. I briefly thought: “So if I ran home from here I still wouldn’t be done.” Best not think too much about that. It was 35 degrees but in the pre-dawn darkness it felt even colder. We all gathered in a field by a big electronic clock. I think someone just said “go”, started the clock, and we all ran down a path. Quite honestly, it felt more like the start of a group run than a race. For the first miles it seemed most everyone remained in a group and conversations among participants were many. Slowly as we returned back from the short (2.5 mile) out and back that started the course people began to spread out.
Early Miles (Hey this is fun)
Quite by chance I ended up meeting the folks that would become my new running group off-and-on for the next 8 hours. Melissa and Mark were also running their first Ultra and we seemed to be running around the same pace (9:45 or so) and so the three of us settled into a nice conversation/pace for the early miles. The miles sailed by along with the fantastic scenery. I ate a 100 calorie gel each hour and drank the whole time from my hand held water bottle.
Mile 14 (First drop bag)
I didn’t have any clue how to prep for an Ultra so in my drop bags (at 14, 26, and 38) I had managed to stash enough food and clothing to feed and clothe a village for a week. I had planned my run around a total refuel at each drop bag sort of like a NASCAR driver getting a fill up and all 4 tires changed. So I felt kind of weird when we arrived at the first drop bags (slightly over 2 hours in) and I went into full change mode (dump sweatshirt, refill hand held bottle, dispose of old Gel wrappers, reload new Gels, grab and start eating PB&J sandwiches) while others grabbed a quick drink, a couple of fig newtons and kept running. But, a plan is a plan, so I just let a bunch of folks pass me and tried to focus on making sure I had everything I needed for the next 12 miles. In retrospect, the aid stations were so well stocked that I probably way over packed but again, I didn’t know what to expect.
Mid 20s (If this was a marathon, it would hurt by now)
At some point between miles 16 and 20 I caught up to my running group (Melissa and Mark) and rejoined the conversation. I still felt good but around mile 22 I no longer felt “fresh” as I had all morning up to that point. The weather and the course were beautiful and between talking and focusing on my surroundings it helped keep my mind pleasantly distracted.
I had worn my GPS/Garmin which I knew would never last for the full race but I figured could keep up for a while. I had changed the lap setting to only execute every 5 miles so I wouldn’t be distracted by my mile-by-mile pace. I figured any 5 mile split under an hour was fine and barely paid attention to my pace the whole time, I always tried to keep at a pace that just felt easy. Turned out it was around 9:45 for most of the first half of the race.
Mile 26 (Turnaround)
We lost Mark along the way but Melissa and I arrived at the turnaround site (actually mile 26.5 due to the early out and back) and I again went into full change mode including changing to a lighter (and fresher) shirt and refilling all my provisions. I grabbed my iPod as I figured I would need a new distraction at some point. I made the psychologically important turn around (heading towards the finish line now) and having lost everyone during my full pit stop, headed back out alone. I remember thinking I had just finished a marathon and I didn’t feel THAT bad, just a little discomfort in my stride.
Mile 26 – 30 (Still smiling)
I knew it was a small race but it was kind of strange to see so few people behind me as I headed back down the trail. I was alone now and after the first 10 minutes where I passed a few folks heading towards the turn around the trail was very sparsely populated. I saw no one in front of me or behind me, and very few people on the trail at all for long periods of time. I had thought this is where I would break out the iPod but I was in a comfortable groove, the setting was gorgeous (weaving in and out of fields and trees as leaves were changing on a sunny 60 degree day) so I just sort of went with the quiet and enjoyed it.
Mile 30 (It starts to go downhill, and no I don’t mean the course)
Around mile 30 I was starting to feel crappy and sore and I was hoping it was just a short-term thing because I was really starting to suffer and it was still (relatively) early. It did feel a lot like the end (last 4 miles or so) of a marathon but somehow I have an easier time of talking my mind into 30 minutes of suffering than 4 hours or so (best not to think about that, I guess). My legs were starting to lock up and my stride was getting shorter and I could tell my pace was slowing considerably. It was still a beautiful setting, but I was just having a harder time appreciating it.
Mile 38 (Restart from hell and the beginning of the “death trot”)
The final drop bag was at 38. I exchanged some pleasantries with the helpful staff manning this station who lied to me and told me I looked great. I had my phone in this bag so I quickly texted my wife “38 miles, feel bad”, refilled everything and headed out again.
One of the things I have learned from marathon training is that as you get later in a long run one of the hardest things to do is restart after you have walked for a while. I had walked for a few minutes after the aid station as I consumed the remainder of my final PB&J sandwich and tried to not think about how far away the finish line was. When I tried to restart I realized just how bad my legs were doing. They yelled at me as I tried to get back to a normal running stride. I was not able to do it and instead settled into my new running stride that I would maintain for the balance of the race: “the death trot”. The death trot was not really running, but it’s not really walking either. If someone saw you from a distance they would say that it looks like you are running, but then they might also notice that people who were walking quickly were also passing you. But at this point, it was all I had and I vowed to try and not stop again if at all possible to avoid having to go through another restart.
Mile 39 (Playlist don’t fail me now)
I had built a playlist for this moment. I had vowed to bring it out when things seemed their darkest. So as I hit play on “Ultra Trance” (playlist name) I hoped for that boost that would help me get to the finish line. I think for a while it may have helped, at least by the fact that it was new, upbeat, and definitely distracting. My stride didn’t get any better, however and in less than an hour the novelty had clearly worn off. It actually was kind of strange the juxtaposition of upbeat music that in my head I have always associated with “go fast” and the death trot pace I was now struggling to hang on to. (Sort of like hiring a motivational speaker to announce your company layoffs) At this point I stuck my earphones in my back pocket for the rest of the race.
Mile 44 (I begin praying for the second coming)
I had vowed not to walk any more because it didn’t help and all it did was guarantee I was going to have to restart again. However, at one point as I was gingerly trotting up a slight incline a woman pushing a stroller who was ahead of me started opening up a wider gap (actually happened) and I wondered how slow my pace had become. My Garmin had quit around mile 41 so I now had no idea about my pace, time, or mileage (in retrospect its probably better). It’s not that I really cared about my time, I didn’t, I just knew that the slower I was going the longer I had to be out here.
Finish
The last few miles were tough. One thing that was nice was while I had not seen people for most of the last few hours I now began to see more of them (mostly as they passed me but hey, still better than nothing). One guy who passed me stopped to take a picture of the “1 mile to go” sign and even though I had my phone with me and that seemed like a cool idea I simply didn’t care enough and I didn’t dare stop anyway.
As I rounded the last turn I saw two wonderful sights: my family, and a big sign that said “Finish”. Hoping it was not a mirage; I tentatively stepped across the timing mat and enjoyed that wonderful mix of elation and exhaustion. I walked a few steps then promptly took a seat and just lay in the grass for a while.
Post Run Thoughts
I have no idea why I ran a 50 mile race. I had contemplated it back in the spring but around early August I decided to increase my mileage to see if I could actually do it. In retrospect in seems like I should have had a stronger reason for pursuing something like this but I think at its core, I was just very curious of what it would be like. (I’m not sure if that makes me the kid who needs to put his hand on the stove to see if it’s hot but maybe so).
It is not uncommon that simply being a “suburban dad” often leads to long periods of doing the same thing day in and day out. Life can get pretty formulaic and predictable sometimes. As a book I read recently said: “in the suburbs only tragedy truly surprises”. There is something very appealing to me about trying something that is completely out of sync with my normal day to day experiences.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my life; I have a fantastic family, I have been blessed well beyond anything I deserve, and in that sense I don’t feel I’m running away from anything. I am also very confident in my faith and don’t feel that I have a “God sized hole” that I need to fill with something else in the world. But if nothing else, there is definitely a sense that to tackle something like this gets you out of the routine, out of your comfort zone, and into something that produces wild swings in emotions and a deeper awareness of just being alive. I know that sounds a bit weird but I can’t overstate the emotions something like this surfaces (at least for me). Even if no one else knew that I finished the race, the sense of internal satisfaction is a very powerful driver. We all want to be rock stars, and in your own head, as you round the last turn in a tough race, you are.
I think often on long runs of the divine spark that we all have inside of us. If we are made in God’s image, we have that desire to create as He is creative. The same things that make some people want to build buildings, or companies, or families, cries out within us to create something that is from what is not. I may not be able to build a building, but a year ago I could not run 50 miles (or even imagine doing it), and now I have done it. In that sense I have created something that did not exist.
I don’t know if I will ever do something like this again. Ultimately there is a great degree of selfishness that goes into preparing for a race like this. Just the amount of (mostly) solo running time is quite a commitment and while self-satisfaction and achievement are not necessarily bad, I certainly wouldn’t want to build my life around them. So for now I’ll go back to 8 mile long runs, maybe a 5K and doing the routine stuff of life… until next time ;-)
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