July 16, 2011
Flashback...
Charlie and I sat at mile 70 watching the runners come through the aid station on a hot and humid mid-July day. Joe had long since left to pace the race leader who would go on to win and we were left waiting for our guys who were now hours later than expected. Finally I spotted my guy shuffling downhill toward the aid station, looking positively knackered. He was ready to drop out but after some food and drink, I got him back on his feet and we headed off on the course. Progress was agonizingly slow, with breaks to lie down, and when we finally reached the aid station at mile 77 there was no more rousing him and he DNF’d. After contemplating running the balance of the course as a bandit, I picked up another runner, a quirky guy who insisted on no conversation and no overlapping headlamp beams, with whom I completed the final 23 miles, watching the sunrise on a new day in the process. It gave me some insight on the upcoming Leadville race. That was last year.
Flashback...
Charlie and I sat at mile 70 watching the runners come through the aid station on a hot and humid mid-July day. Joe had long since left to pace the race leader who would go on to win and we were left waiting for our guys who were now hours later than expected. Finally I spotted my guy shuffling downhill toward the aid station, looking positively knackered. He was ready to drop out but after some food and drink, I got him back on his feet and we headed off on the course. Progress was agonizingly slow, with breaks to lie down, and when we finally reached the aid station at mile 77 there was no more rousing him and he DNF’d. After contemplating running the balance of the course as a bandit, I picked up another runner, a quirky guy who insisted on no conversation and no overlapping headlamp beams, with whom I completed the final 23 miles, watching the sunrise on a new day in the process. It gave me some insight on the upcoming Leadville race. That was last year.
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| The hard-won hardware |
The day started well enough. I was awakened at 3AM in my tent at Silver Hill Meadow by the playing of 'Chariots of Fire' coming from the nearby tent at race headquarters. I quickly set about making my preparations and rushed to get over to the big tent to have a chance to enjoy a cup of coffee before the race start. Walking out into the darkness I was excited to see some stars and the full moon on a cool summer night with relatively low humidity.
At 4AM the race started with runners heading downhill from the meadow and I tried to settle into a groove as I started in the mid-pack and then slowly worked my way into a comfortable spot. After a mile or so, the course turns onto a trail and continues at a moderate uphill grade. I wasn't too familiar with the course, other than reviewing an online GPS track beforehand and an elevation profile which looked more like an EKG. The course is comprised of relentless uphills and downhills but the footing is relatively easy.
After a few miles in the woods the trail merged with a dirt road and an ascent of Densmore Hill road ensued. Whereas I used to like to speed hike uphill during ultras I found myself settle into a comfortably-slow run uphill during which I found myself passing a few of the other runners. It's critical not to over-exert in the early going and I felt like I was moving at a conservative pace. Even so, it is tempting to push while cool conditions persist at this early hour.
At 6:15AM I heard three galloping horses coming up behind me and I stepped aside to let them pass. The VT 100 is unique in that horse races of 50-, 75-, and 100- miles are also held on the same day and use much of the same course as the runners. At first I was mildly concerned about the specter of being trampled, but just as the race organizers had indicated, the horses are social and have no interest in barreling over the runners. The horses start one hour after the runners to keep the field spread out.
Before long the course crossed Route 4 and the Taftsville Covered Bridge and continued along the river's edge to the aid station at mile 15. I grabbed a couple slices of watermelon, a couple fig newtons, and headed off uphill. I felt relaxed during the next few miles, continuing my uphill running and I rolled into the first handler aid station, Pretty House at mile 21 around 7:30AM, where I was excited to see Joe and Jack. Joe refilled my bottles with Amino drink mix, refreshed my GUs, and encouraged me to get a few bites to eat and then I was off.
After some road running, the next section climbed steadily, topping out on open pastures which had tricky footing. I found my feet sliding around in my Hokas and I felt a couple of hot spots that I knew I shouldn't ignore. Along the way, we passed the sign indicating the completion of a marathon length of 26.2 miles. Only 3 more to go!
At the Stage Road aid station at mile 30, I sat and put moleskin on my foot while I grabbed a few things to eat. Joe refilled my bottles and GU and Jack encouraged me not to run too fast. So far I was feeling good. The next section included a steep hill that finally slowed me to a speed walk. A little ways on I passed Adam from Colorado who I had met last year at Leadville - he was running here as part of the Grand Slam, quite an impressive goal, but he was feeling nauseous at the moment.
Crossing back over Route 4 the course heads through a covered bridge and as I pulled into an aid station just beyond one of the volunteers was telling me I was the 26th to arrive. What?! How could that be? I was somewhat astonished as I grabbed a piece of watermelon and started up another hill. I was starting to think that I was going too fast. All along I had felt that it would be critically important to go slow and steady so that I wouldn't burn out.
It was starting to get noticeably warmer and I continued to take S-Cap electrolyte tablets at one-hour intervals although I knew I was slipping on my nutrition and in the heat of the day the GUs were starting to be a little less palatable than before. I rolled into Camp Ten Bear at mile 47 and my weight was only down 3 lbs., but the medical staff looked at my eyes and told me to be sure to stop and eat. Again Joe helped me refill my bottles and encouraged me to graze at the buffet, which I did, picking at this and that, although I just couldn't stomach a quarter of a PB&J.
It was about 12:20PM when I headed uphill out of Camp Ten Bear, knowing the course makes a loop and comes back through this same aid station in 23 miles. Initially I tried to slow down my pace to compensate for the midday conditions - it would get up to 86F on this afternoon. On the brief flats I felt myself get into a good groove, but there was a hill around mile 50 that was a monster. With the normal highs and lows of a long race, this was a time when I felt ready to throw in the towel and I was wondering what could have possibly compelled me to want to do this in the first place. A sign near the top of the hill advised that more than half of the race was behind, and a feeling of great relief came over me.
I chugged along at a slower pace arriving at the Tracer Brook aid station just as Joe was coming over to meet me and I felt good that I had almost beaten him there! He helped me refill my drink mix and grab some GUs and I was off on a long uphill. In spite of the heat, I felt very good in this next section before the Margaritaville aid station. As before, Joe met me here, although this time he was on his bike and he rode alongside of me, chatting for a distance after the aid station.
When I went to grab another GU from my now incredibly sticky and gross Amphipod waist pouch that I carried, I was alarmed to find that I didn't have my package of S-Caps. I realized that I must have thrown away the S-Caps at the last aid station along with the sticky mess of empty GU wrappers. I was immediately concerned that I still had at least 7 miles to go before Camp Ten Bear and no source of concentrated electrolytes. I slowly ate a GU and kept running.
At the Brown Schoolhouse aid station I picked up a few Endurolyte tablets for the trail, hoping they might help me survive the next leg. Not too far after this point I had to address the increasing sloshing in my stomach that was starting to give me some discomfort, and I peeled off into the woods for a minute. Not long after that I was still feeling off, and I was concerned that this was related to my lack of S-Cap consumption. The course starts on a big downhill and my quads were now starting to feel sore and my energy was flagging. I decided to force myself to eat a GU and as soon as I did I promptly lost the contents of my stomach.
In an instant, my outlook on the race changed. I felt flushed in the afternoon heat. Here I was, still one or two miles short of mile 70 with some sort of GI issue, unable to keep nutrition down and feeling lousy. I started to walk downhill. Several runners passed me. At one point I had been on track to run a sub 20-hour race, then it looked more likely that I might make it in 22 hours and now I questioned whether I'd finish at all. I figured that walking would preserve what little energy I had and keep my momentum going forward.
When I came into Camp Ten Bear I'm sure the look on my face gave away that I was looking for an excuse to drop. Medical weighed me in and cleared me to continue but I promptly took a seat while Joe was trying to figure out what I needed and what was wrong. I made a few trips back and forth to the restroom and lost my lunch again. Ultrarunners always say that a hundred mile race starts at mile 70. If this is true then I was in trouble. At this moment I felt defeated.
What surprised me was Joe's quick action to save the race for me by pulling together an A-team of pacers to support me. This included Theresa, an incredibly fit, fleet-footed, and accomplished runner who I hadn't met before today, Jack, the winner of this race 2 years ago, who routinely schools the young guns and inspires the rest of us with his performances, and Joe, the tough-as-nails trail runner who is as tenacious a motivator as he is a competitor. On any other day these three would have been running this race or another race, far, far ahead of me, but each one happened to be in the midst of nursing an injury on this day, and so they were all there at Ten Bear, willing to help.
I wasn't sure how far I would make it, but I started down the road from the aid station with Theresa and I didn't look back. I remembered this portion of the course from last year and I had hoped I'd be able to move quickly through it on my own, but it was slow going on the trail and back onto the dirt roads past beautiful farms. Theresa was telling me all about herself, her races, and her life and she kept me smiling with plenty of stories that she assured me I'd never remember after the race. Her passion for life was infectious. Adam from Colorado passed me in this section looking good again and he gave me a Tums for my stomach. I kept plugging along, but without any food or drink I was was feeling weak and I couldn't move very quickly.
At the Seabrook aid station Theresa gave me some broth and a Coke and both seemed to go down pretty well. She also applied ice to my legs which seemed to wake them up. After another cup of broth and a couple of Cokes we decided I should fill one of my bottles with a diluted combination of ice and Coke. It wasn't long after this aid station that I started jibber-jabbering and I even found myself trying to shuffle along through this next stretch. I rolled into West Winds just before 9PM, as it was just getting dark. It hadn't been pretty. It took more than 3 hours to cover 7 miles.
After a quick drink and some more broth I left Theresa and Joe and I was on my way with Jack. I tried to shuffle as much as I could, but it was slow going. A few runners were still passing me as we ran with headlamps, following the course marked with green chem-lights. In good humor, one of the gentlemen passing said to his runner, "It probably won't ever happen again that you're passing Jack."
It might seem that time would pass slowly at night, but hours pass quickly and pace is slowed during this time of darkness. I recalled the course and tried to imagine what was coming next, sometimes surprised at an intersection or trail segment I didn't recall. I had one more episode of sickness on Queen Victoria Road when I took a sip from my water bottle which had the taste of the drink mix I had been using earlier in the race. The reaction was instantaneous.
At the Cowshed aid station Jack carefully reviewed the food options with me and suggested I try chocolate chip cookies and gummy bears. I had a cookie and a couple of bears and they tasted okay. He put together a small cup with more bears and cookies and away we went into the night. I munched on another cookie before deciding that was enough. "I'm going to toss my cookies" I told Jack and threw the remaining ones into the woods, but I held onto the bears. I found myself feeling dehydrated but with my stomach still sloshing I couldn't really drink water, so I would rinse my mouth with water periodically.
The course climbs a major hill before Bills aid station and I continued to walk, arriving at the aid station at 12:40AM. I probably spent too much time at the aid station looking at the buffet table and visiting with Joe and Theresa before hitting the trail again. After a descent through the woods we emerged on the fields and ran downhill through the grass, with the silhouette of Mt. Ascutney to our south. It was beautiful. Up another hill which is part of the VT 50 course and we were at the Keating aid station.
With gummy bears in hand we headed off on the course with my stomach still sloshing after all of these hours. I made a pit stop in the woods and we continued onward. I don't know what brought it on, but my stride changed from a shuffle to a run. After 22 hours it wasn't fast, but I started moving again and Jack took note. After feeling so defeated earlier I wasn't going to sputter into the finish, letting this thing beat me in the process. I was going to finish strong, and who knows, maybe I'd still have a shot at breaking 24 hours. I was running on a few sips of Coke, a handful of gummy bears, and a chocolate chip cookie, but I had found another wind.
Joe was going to meet us at Pollys at mile 95.5 to pace me for the last few miles but he wasn't there when we arrived and Jack continued running with me until Joe came driving down the road after 15 minutes or so, wondering what had gotten into me. He drove a little ways down the road and took over for Jack when I ran by. It felt good to know there were just a few miles left. I was actually feeling pretty good. After all of our training last year, it was fun to be back out running with Joe, who is coming back from knee surgery. On uphills I was still walking or shuffling, but I tried to keep moving on the flats and downhills.
Approaching Blood Hill I could hear the cheers from the other side of the hill in Silver Meadow for the finishers. There was a major commotion at 4:00AM as the last of the sub-24 hour finishers came through, and I had one last hill to conquer. Near the top of the hill was a sign announcing one mile to go as the course wound its way through pastures and back into the woods. The route through the woods seemed to be an unending series of twists and turns and I felt like the last mile might never end, but sure enough, near the bottom of the hill I saw the gallon water jugs with chem-lights inside, one on each side of the trail, like runway lights, guiding me in for a landing. Rounding the final corner with Joe I ran through the finish, gummy bears in hand, to the cheers of friends and strangers alike. 24:22:28. I finished!
After the race I realized that I could not have done it without the help of Joe, Theresa, and Jack who were immensely supportive and patient. They helped motivate me to achieve my goal. A big thanks and acknowledgment must also be given to the great volunteers and the race committee who make it all happen.
In the days after this race I thought that if I ever contemplate running another 100 miler I first need to figure out my nutrition and GI issues. I always thought I had a rock-solid constitution, but after a couple of these I can see that I start to wear down after mile 70. I have replayed in my mind the early miles and I don't believe I went too fast or that my issues in later miles were brought on by overall fatigue. Rather, it seems that something else must have triggered my issue. I will have to do more research but it appears that I couldn't perform gastric emptying, which accounted for the stomach sloshing and general inability to run in the later miles. Not sure if more potassium would help to absorb and assimilate the liquid or not. It might just be my reaction to the heat of the day. After a two hour sleep I woke and promptly ate a large plate of pulled pork and potatoes, washing it down with a whole bunch of iced tea before enjoying the barbecue later in the morning. Amazingly, I only had some limited soreness in my quads and absolutely no other aches or joint pain. I'll chalk it up to the Hoka shoes!
I went into this race hoping for a finish of less than 24 hours, which seemed to be a sure bet in the early going. After struggling through my issues I can say that I'm happy I finished strong and it was a gritty performance given the adversity I faced. It is also a great affirmation of what we are capable of achieving, with the combination of mind and body. This is one I will remember for a long time.
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| At the finish: Getting by with a little help from my friends! Jack, Theresa, Mike, & Joe |
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