[Note: This is a VERY late race report and should have been finished in July.]
I was very happy with how I performed at Inks Lake 60K. Considering it was my first trail fitness test leading up to my first hundred mile attempt at Cactus Rose, and my first race since the highly unpleasant TATUR Midnight Madness 50 Miler, I did pretty much everything that I was hoping to do. I've been keeping in touch with my friend Sonia ever since we carpooled down to Nueces back in March. When I found out she was running the night series we started making plans to carpool down to Inks Lake State Park. As it turns out three of Sonia's friends were also going to come down for the race, so Saturday morning I met Sonia and my new friend Diane in Fort Worth and we drove in Sonia's husband's enormous truck to Hillsboro, where we picked up Malea and Becky to round out our quintet. We had an excellent time on the drive down to Burnet, where we checked into our hotel and crashed for a few hours of rest before heading out to the race. We were warned that parking would be pretty slim, so we planned on getting to the race an hour and a half early. Even getting there that early we had to park a ways away and lug our stuff to the start/finish line. We got settled easily enough, spent some time chatting with fellow runners, and generally tried to stay cool and in the shade until the start of the race. Fortunately for us a "cool" front came through the day before the race and it was only about ninety-five degrees at the start of the race. Compared to the 105 degrees I was used to running in ninety-five was a cake walk. Even so, a bunch of people had serious heat trouble, despite many warnings by the race directors.I ran this race last year with my friend Josh in 9:09:19, so I pretty much knew what to expect. The race is set up as six 10K loops. The hills are fairly minimal but there are quite a few rocks and some pretty rugged terrain. On the whole it's very runnable, but the heat can make it pretty intense. My strategy coming into the race was pretty much my strategy for all my recent races: walk the hills and cruise the flats and downhills. That's not really how it panned out.The course was immediately familiar. I recognized all the turns and climbs, the two leaning rocks, the ditch we had to jump twelve times, and the confusing rocky shelves we had to cross. I decided pretty quickly that I was going to run the first 10K loop pretty quickly so that I could get as much mileage done in the light as possible. I pushed fairly hard and finished the first loop in about 1:08, which is pretty much in line with what I ran last year. I brought both my handheld water bottles but started out with only one, and the temperatures were cool enough that I never needed the second one.After the first quick loop I deliberately reigned in my pace and ran the next couple of loops about as fast as I did last year. I was feeling great so I picked up the pace a bit on the fourth loop. This year my legs felt very strong and I ran pretty much everything up until the mostly unmanned water stop. I know that there were times last year when I had to walk a bit on some of the gradual uphills on the jeep road, but this year I was able to move along them at a fairly decent clip.I picked things up a bit more on the fifth loop. At the water stop on the fifth loop I ran into a guy I had been leapfrogging for a lot of the race. He was at the water stop when I pulled in and still lingering thirty seconds later when I was getting ready to pull out. I told him he’d never finish if he didn’t get moving, so he started out shortly after me. He caught me on the short uphill out of the aid station and we started chatting. Turns out his name is Dave and he’s a college student at UT. We ran the rest of that loop together at a pretty fast pace and decided to run the last loop together as well. We really did our best to kill the last loop and finished hard in 1:30, which is a solid twenty minutes faster than my last loop last year.I finished in 8:48:04, a solid twenty-one minutes faster than my time from last year. I felt great. I was contemplating heading out for the fifty mile option but I was not going to be able to finish fifty miles in under the twelve hour cutoff. I felt great, but not a three hour 20K great.Sonia got a bit of heat stroke during the race, so we hung out for a good while at the aid tent while she took in a bunch of fluids and was looked after by the paramedic. Even with that everyone was in a pretty great mood when we hit the road.I consider Inks Lake a fantastic first fitness check for Cactus Rose. Hopefully I’ll be able to keep the momentum going for Pedernales Falls in three weeks.References
- Capt'n Karl's Runs
- Cactus Rose 100 Mile Endurance Run
- TATUR Midnight Madness 50 Miler Race Report
- Nueces 50 Mile Race Report
- Inks Lake State Park
- Burnet, Texas
The 2011 Tulsa Area Trail and Ultra Runners (TATUR) TATUR Midnight Madness 50 Miler was not a great race for me. I ran it in 2010 and it was a hot, miserable mess of a race. I was not planning on running it at all this year but my running partner, Josh, twisted my arm. By "twisted my arm" I mean he told me he was planning on running it as his second fifty and I said I'd run it with him. Sometimes I'm deplorably easy.
Although I wasn't really looking forward to the race itself I was looking forward to running with Josh again. I packed all my necessary gear into my trusty running bag and prepared for the six hour drive to Tulsa. My wife made chocolate chip cookies Thursday night, so between those, a bag of Lays potato chips, and a couple of Gatorades I was ready to drive. There are no direct ways for me to get to Tulsa, so I left early on Friday morning and started winding my way along country highways, expecting to get to Tulsa around three o'clock.
My race troubles actually started on the drive to Tulsa. My car, a 2003 Hyundai Elantra, started having engine problems a little ways south of Tulsa and more or less broke down right on the south side of Tulsa. The heat index in Tulsa on Friday was somewhere around 106, and my poor Elantra just doesn't handle extreme heat and long trips very well, a fact I had completely forgotten. Mistake number one. I called around and found a shop that would be open on Saturday. Bear in mind that we were heading into the Fourth of July weekend and I was six hours from home. Needless to say, I was a bit anxious. Fortunately Josh was just getting into town, so he was able to come meet me at the McDonalds where I ended up while we waited for a tow truck. The tow truck showed up in decent time and we got the Elantra to a shop that promised to look at the car Saturday morning.
After dropping the car off with the shop Josh and I headed to the Holiday Inn Express to try to get some rest before the race. When I checked in I asked if we could get a late checkout and the clerk hemmed and hawed a bit but finally said I could check out at one. This was important, because I was expecting us to finish around ten in the morning, which wouldn't give us much time for sleep. Mistake number two. When we settled into the room Josh immediately crashed. I tossed and turned and got basically no sleep.
The Midnight Madness starting line is in a little park with very little parking. Josh and I planned on getting to the park about ten thirty, which we hoped would be early enough to get a parking spot. It wasn't. Apparently parking had been filled for hours. We unloaded our gear and I waited while Josh went into the neighborhood across the street to find a parking spot. The park is really nice, with a cool playground and fountains for kids to play on and in. Josh got back and we unloaded our gear with the other drop bags and settled in to wait for the start of the race.
The really unfortunate thing about the Midnight Madness race is that it fills a large hole in my race schedule. The last race I ran was the Hell's Hills 50 Miler at the beginning of April. That's a long time for me to go without racing, and I start to get antsy. Given that, Josh and I were ready to run. Shortly before midnight the race director made a few announcements and we were off on our fifty mile adventure.
Midnight Madness consists of five 10.3 mile loops. Each loop alternates direction. We started running counter-clockwise, which I think is the slightly more interesting direction. I'm not going to describe the course except to say it's almost pancake flat, we ran past a power plant and a water treatment plant, and is entirely paved bike trail. To put it bluntly, the course is boring. Very boring.
The first loop passed without incident. Near the end of the second loop Josh and I were both starting to feel really beat up. Temperatures and humidity during the night were much milder than in 2010, so I couldn't figure out why the bike trail was beaing me up so much worse than last year. A woman at one of the aid stations later would point out that it had been extremely dry in Tulsa and the ground was probably much harder for not having any moisture in it. I think that makes a certain sense. By the end of the second loop I felt beat to shit. I've run fifty mile trail races and felt better than I felt after those twenty miles.
I was not mentally in the race. Mistake number one had me worrying about my car pretty much the entire run. I was also concerned about mistake number two, because I wasn't hugely keen on driving home on just two or three hours of sleep. I really should have reserved the room for Saturday as well, because then I could have just relaxed, chilled out, and not worried about driving while extremely tired. As we neared the end of loop two I told Josh that I was very tempted to drop the race so that I could head back to the hotel and hopefully get a little sleep and then tend to my car first thing in the morning. Josh scoffed at that nonsense, so we kept running.
The wheels started coming off the bus around mile twenty five. Josh started getting serious pain in the plantar fasciitis and it got so bad that we needed to start run/walking. By the time we reached the bottom of Turkey Mountain, the only hill on the course worth mentioning, it was pretty much only walking for Josh. When we got to the aid station at the top of the Turkey Mountain hill we sat down and refueled while the very helpful volunteers tried to tape Josh's foot up so that it wouldn't hurt so much. After five or ten minutes at the aid station we set out at a slow jog to test out the taping. It didn't work, and we ended up walking most of the remaining four miles to the start/finish aid station. I feel terrible that Josh's foot got injured, but I did not hesitate to drop the race at mile 31.
After recovering for a bit Josh and I went back to the hotel to get some sleep. I managed to get a couple hours of sleep, but I was up well before our late checkout to find out what was up with my car. Apparently there was a faulty C02 censor that they replaced. When Josh got up he dropped me off at the shop and, at my urging, head out for Dallas and home. I napped a bit on the extremely comfortable couch at the shop and finally got my car around three o'clock. It was a long, slow drive back home, and it turns out that replacing the C02 sensor did not fix the problem.
Josh has a grudge match scheduled for July 6 of next year. I know he's going to come back and destroy Midnight Madness. I wish him luck, because I will never run it again.
References
- Tulsa Area Trail and Ultra Runners Website
- TATUR Midnight Madness 50 Miler Website
- Hell's Hills 50 Miler
Several weeks ago my friend Clynton Taylor asked me if I'd be interested in reviewing some Icebreaker merino wool gear for Nature Shop UK. I enthusiastically said yes, because I've never done a product review before. He forwarded my contact information and I promptly forgot about it until a couple of weeks ago when I was contacted by a friendly representative from Nature Shop. She asked if I would still be interested in reviewing some products. I looked over their Icebreaker catalog and sent her a list of a handful of products that looked like they could be useful during my summer training.
Picking Icebreaker products to try was quite a challenge. I looked at a ton of very promising looking products and started compiling a list. I managed to whittle the list down to about seven items, but I couldn't get it smaller than that. I left the final decision in the capable hands of my Nature Shop representative. When the package arrived in the mail a few days later I eagerly opened it up to discover that she selected the Ace Sleeveless Tee and the Boxer Briefs that I put on the list.
I should take a moment before I get really started with this review to note Nature Shop provided the products to me free of charge. All they asked of me was for me to write an honest review of the products. I don't have any affiliate links in this blog and I'm not making any money off clicks or advertising. My goal is to give my opinion and provide links to further information for any interested parties. Now, on with the review.
I was highly skeptical of how well the Ace Sleeveless Tee would perform in the south Arkansas heat and humidity. First, the Ace Sleeveless Tee is a dark charcoal color. Most of what I wear, at least in the summer, is white or light gray. I was afraid that I would fry under the pounding, intense summer sun. Second, the Ace Sleeveless Tee is made of wool from the New Zealand marino sheep. Conventional wisdom suggests that wearing wool during the summer, especially if you sweat heavily, is a bad, bad idea.
I'm happy to say that conventional wisdom, in this case, is completely wrong; all of my skepticism was completely unfounded. The Ace Sleeveless Tee and Boxer Briefs are extremely lightweight and are supremely soft against my skin. None of my synthetics can come close in terms of weight or comfort. The Nature Shop Icebreaker Clothing site says, "Merino wool is far finer than traditional wool and has a soft silky feel perfect for next to skin wear." I can say this is absolutely true. Furthermore, the charcoal color didn't seem to be any hotter against my skin than any of my other tech shirts. In fact, since the merino wool is so light it felt cooler than some of my other shirts. I was amazed.
The Nature Shop website also mentioned, "Merino wool has natural anti microbial properties that kill germs. In practice this means you can wear your icebreaker garments again and again with minimal odour build up." This made my marketing sensitive bullshit alarm go off, so I tried wearing both the Ace Sleeveless Tee and Boxer Briefs again without washing them. Again, I was completely amazed that they really didn't stink. Not even a little. They smelled just as fresh as the first time I wore them. I've worn them several other times without washing them and they still don't smell. I really like this because it means I can wear the garments more frequently between washings, which should translate into them lasting longer. Also, I'm generally very lazy, so the less I have to put my running clothes in the wash the better.
The Boxer Briefs and Ace Sleeveless Tee are unfortunately not perfect. The problem with the boxers is that they are very slightly too large for me. I was hoping that they would be a bit tighter and perhaps provide a little more support for my glutes and my upper quads and hamstrings. This is not the case. If I went a size smaller I would perhaps be able to get the results I'm looking for. The Boxer Briefs also suffer from the fact that I just don't wear them as frequently as the Ace Sleeveless Tee because just about all of my running shorts have built-in liner. I have some gym shorts that I don't usually wear for running that don't have a liner, so that's what the Boxer Briefs get paired with. Also, the Boxer Briefs are $50. That's more than I generally want to spend on underwear, even extremely well built performance underwear.
The problems with the Ace Sleeveless Tee are generally pretty minor. The medium is a tiny bit too large for me, which basically means that it's looser through the chest and longer in the back than I prefer. I should attempt to rectify the chest issue by getting back into my cross training groove, but I haven't gotten around to that since moving. There is a "reflective piping detail" on the upper right shoulder that does not have flat sewn seams, so sometimes when I'm running I'm aware of the seams. The neck also has a "cord management loop" for people who listen to music on the run. I do not listen to music while running (that's a rant for some other time), so this loop is an extraneous and sometimes irritating (physically scratchy on my neck) detail that I don't need.
Fairly minor quibbles aside, I love both the Ace Sleeveless Tee and the Boxer Briefs. I look forward to trying some of the other products offered by Nature Shop, such as the Distance Shorts and Tracer Shorts. I think that Nature Shop is a good company to order from and they strive to be good corporate citizens. Their customer reviews, which are handled on an independent third-party site, are uniformly excellent. More importantly, in my mind, they are trying to be environmentally sustainable. In fact, their Environment Policy is linked on their pages above their social media links, which I have never seen before. They are a carbon neutral company and are actively working to reduce the amount of carbon emissions and waste across their entire supply chain. Furthermore, the merino wool used in the Icebreaker products is a naturally sustainable resource.
References
- Nature Shop UK
- Ace Sleeveless Tee
- Boxer Briefs
- Distance Shorts
- Tracer Shorts
- Icebreaker Clothing
- Customer Reviews
- Environment Policy
I was talking with my friend Doug Welch on Twitter today about the Vermont 50 Miler this coming September when, as frequently happens, Western States came up. Specifically, it came up as a bucket list race (you know, the Bucket List). I may as well admit that not only is Western States a bucket list race for me, I want to do the entire Grand Slam of Ultrarunning.
The Grand Slam of Ultrarunning involves running Western States (June 25), Vermont 100 (July 16), Leadville 100 (August 20), and Wasatch Front 100 (September 9), all in the same year. That's four hundred miles of racing in the mountains in just eleven weeks. I don't have any idea what sort of monster training I'd need to do in order to get ready for the Grand Slam, but I know that it'll be several years down the road. I need to get experience with mountain running and going the hundred mile distance before I even contemplate the Grand Slam.
But I will. Some day.
References
- Vermont 50
- Grand Slam Races
- Western States 100 Endurance Run
- Vermont 100 Endurance Run
- Leadville Trail 100 Run
- Wasatch Front 100 Mile Endurance Run
- Articles on the Grand Slam
- Wikipedia
- Run 100s
- Running Times
Now that my move to Magnolia, Arkansas is complete I have been able to start getting my training back on track. My next race is the TATUR Midnight Madness 50 Miler on July 1. The Midnight Madness race is all on paved bike trails around an urban park in Tulsa, Oklahoma. People who know me know that I'm a huge fan of Inov-8 shoes. I currently run on roads in the F-Lite 195, on most trails in the fantastic X-Talon 190, and on really tough, rugged trails in the Roclite 295. The problem is that my F-Lite 195s have a heel drop of only 3mm. After sixteen or eighteen miles in them the center of my calf really starts to hurt. I'm not entirely certain how I'm going to increase my calf strength enough to handle more miles in the 195s, but I'll have to figure something out. In the meantime I need something that I can log long road miles in. My current distance road shoes are the Saucony ProGrid Ride 4, and although they have a firm midfoot they are chunky, unweildy, and about as far from minimal as you can get. I need something else to wear in Tulsa.
So I started researching other options. Inov-8 has several options that might work. First, if I want to stick with the F-Lite line, I can choose from the 7.76 ounce F-Lite 220 and the 8.11 ounce F-Lite 230. I'm really not entirely certain what the difference is between the 220 and the 230 except for 0.35 ounces, so I would probably opt for the 220. But Inov-8 recently introduced a new Road-X line of shoes that look pretty damn awesome. The Road-X Lite 155s are perhaps the sexiest running shoes ever created. They're a non-starter for me, though, because they only have a 3mm heel drop, but you can bet that I'll be giving these a try when my F-Lite 195s wear out. A much more viable option is the 8.219 ounce Road-X 233. It has a 6mm heel drop, and since it was designed for road (or at least paved survace) running it might do better over long distances than the F-Lite 195s.
In the past I have tried on the Saucony Kinvara, but the forefoot was way to soft and spongy for me. I need something firm and responsive. I had the same problem with the fairly minimal Brooks Green Silence. Plus, when you're used to the extremely sexy looks of Inov-8's shoes it's really hard to switch to something as bland as what Brooks and Saucony offer.
In any case, I need to make up my mind quickly so that I can log some miles on the shoes before the race. I have several weeks of back-to-back long runs coming up in which to break them in.
Does anyone out there have suggestions for other minimal shoes that I might look at for long-distance road running?
References
- TATUR Midnight Madness 50 Miler
- Inov-8 Website
- F-Lite 195 - 6.878 ounces with a 3mm heel drop
- X-Talon 190 - 6.702 ounces with a 3mm heel drop
- Roclite 295 - 10.41 ounces - I don't have any idea what the hell drop is.
- F-Lite 220 - 7.76 ounces with a 6mm heel drop
- F-Lite 230 - 8.11 ounces with a 6mm heel drop
- Road-X Lite 155 - 5.467 ounces with a 3mm heel drop
- Road-X 233 - 8.219 ounces with a 6mm heel drop
- Saucony ProGrid Ride 4 - Not sure what the heel drop is on these (probably over 11mm), but it's more than the F-Lites, and they weigh an appalling 10.9 ounces.
- Saucony ProGrid Kinvara 2 - 7.7 ounces
- Brooks Green Silence - 6.9 ounces with an 8mm heel drop
I may have accidentally talked a friend into training for hundred mile races today. Normally I'm an ultra pusher. I never turn down an opportunity to try to talk someone into running ultras. But in this case I really wasn't trying. Honest. Scout's honor.
It started innocuously enough with a video that someone posted to the NTTR mailing list. The Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc (UTMB) has been on my bucket list for a while now, and seeing the video rekindled my sense of damn-that's-a-freaking-awesome-looking-race. The terrain looks absolutely stunning, the international field of runners is amazing, and apparently it's like a party in every little village you run through. Naturally I reposted the video on Facebook and my friend Kenny got very, very interested. I told him that you need to run races to earn points to qualify for entry. His response was, quite literally, "Find out for me, would make a nice vacation trip a couple years from now and give me time to do the qualifiers. Let's do this." How can I possibly say no to that?
This is for you and your enthusiasm, Kenny.
I started with the UTMB website. I knew there were qualification requirements, so I started hunting and found this paragraph at the bottom of the page:
Registration to UTMB® is only allowed to competitors who have already had an experience and who can prove it. It is necessary to have acquired at least 5 point by finishing, in 2009 and/or 2010, two trails listed here.This race is limited to 2300 competitors.
That led me to the list of qualifying races. I took the liberty of finding a direct link to all of the qualifying US races. I was very surprised by some of the races that I found on the list. For instance, both Cactus Rose (for four points) and Bandera (for two points) are on the list. That means that I already have two points this year, so I will qualify for entry at the end of October when I complete my first hundred miler at Cactus Rose. Sweet!
The list of equipment that runners are required to carry is pretty daunting. The reason for all the gear is because runners are likely to hit all manner of nasty weather, and since aid stations will likely be at least ten miles apart they need to be prepared for the absolute worst. I'm going to post this verbatim from the UTMB website. My intention is to come back in later and add links to some options for the various and sundry equipment to try to get an idea of what the entire pack will look like.
Obligatory material : - mobile phone with option enabling its use in the three countries (put in one’s repertoire the security numbers of the organisation, keep it switched on, do not hide one’s number and do not forget to set off with recharged batteries) - personal cup or tumbler 15cl minimum (water bottle not acceptable) - stock of water minimum 1 litre, - two torches in good working condition with replacement batteries, - survival blanket 1.40m x 2m minimum - whistle, - adhesive elastic band enable making a bandage or a strapping (mini 100cm x 6 cm), - food reserve, - jacket with hood and made with a waterproof (recommendation: minimum 10,000 Schmerber) and breathable (recommendation: RET lower than 13) membrane (Gore-Tex or similar) which will withstand the bad weather in the mountains. - long running trousers or leggings or a combination of leggings and long socks which cover the legs completely, - warm long sleeved clothing (type « second layer », cotton excluded) of a weight of 180g minimum - cap or bandana - warm hat - warm and waterproof gloves - waterproof over-trousers Required by the frontier police forces: - identity papers Very strongly recommended - walking poles for security on slippery ground in case of rain or snow - a change of warm clothes indispensable in the case of cold weather, rain or injury - the sum of 20 euros minimum (in order to cover the unexpected....) Advised (list not definitive): Telescopic sticks, change of clothing, compass, knife, string, sun cream, Vaseline or anti-chaffing cream, needle and thread,...
I know that I won't be running UTMB for a few years yet, but when I get a sense of an exact date (possibly August of 2013, shortly before my thirty-fifth birthday) I'll start collecting and training with the full set of gear. Of course, training with the full set of gear will also help prepare me for my future circumnavigation of Mount Rainier on the Wonderland Trail.
References
- Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc (UTMB)
- 2011 Qualification Guidelines
- UTMB Qualifying Races
- List of Equipment (about a third of the way down the page)
- Ultra-Trail do Mont-Blanc Video
- Cactus Rose 100
- Bandera 100K
- North Texas Trail Runners (NTTR)
- My Bucket List
- Wonderland Trail
I had planned for Rocky Raccoon to be my first hundred miler, but that plan fell through in the worst freeze the Dallas area had seen in twenty years. After I wasn't able to make it to Rocky Raccoon I spent a couple of weeks pretty depressed. I had been completely mentally prepared to give the race everything I had. I know that shit can happen over the course of one hundred miles and I was prepared for the eventuality that something might happen and I might have to DNF. I was entirely unprepared for not being able to get down there in the first place.
To make a long story short, I was depressed.
I raced quite a bit since Rocky Raccoon (see Cowtown Ultra Race Report, Nueces 50 Miler Race Report, Grasslands 50 Miler Race Report, and my upcoming Hell's Hills 50 miler race report), but I didn't have any direction. My training fell way off, although that was in part because of my new job. I didn't have a plan for anything, so I was just going through the motions and more-or-less using my races (most of which were last-minute affairs) as my training. Seeing friends and the companionship surrounding ultras really helped me out. But what really brought me around was deciding that the Cactus Rose 100 would be my first hundred mile race.
With a goal in place I was suddenly much, much happier. Now I have something to shoot for. Is Cactus Rose (basically the same course as Bandera) more technical than Rocky Raccoon? Yes. Shit yes. Will it be more difficult? Certainly. Will I have some wonderful friends there? Absolutely. Am I in the least bit worried about the roughness of the terrain or attempting to run one hundred miles? Not even remotely.
One of the first things I did after making my decision was to start researching. I found a one hundred mile training plan on the Hill Country Trail Runners site that I decided looked pretty decent, so I started adapting it for my schedule. It's still a work in progress, but I think that the plan looks pretty good so far. I know that my training is going to get disrupted by my move this summer, but I think if I hit my tentatively planned races I should be in pretty good figurative and literal shape. Speaking of races, here's a quick rundown of what I'm looking at.
- Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon - May 1
- TATUR Midnight Madness 50 Miler - July 1 - I'm really not too keen on this one, since the weather will probably be atrocious, but my running partner wants to run this, so I told him that I'd probably run it with him. The caveat is that he needs to set the pace. He needs to figure out how to set a good fifty mile pace.
- Capt'n Karl's Endurance Runs - Each of the next three races has a sort of ad-hoc option to run fifty miles instead. It's basically a race day decision where runners just notify Joe Prusaitis (the race director) that they are going to do the fifty mile option. I'll probably do the fifty mile option in all cases.
- The Lake 60K - July 16
- The Falls 60K - August 6
- The Shoe 60K - August 27
- Vermont 50 Miler - September 25 - I'm still very much up in the air on this race. My wife would really love to travel to Vermont, but the timing on this race may be problematic and she might not be able to make it. I'm not sure if I want to travel for a race (out of state, that is) without her. I'll be mulling this over.
- Fatass 55 Miler - October 1 - My schedule calls for a fifty-five mile run on October 1. I may see about planning a fatass run for NTTR somewhere in the DFW area.
- Tyler Rose Marathon - October 9 - I would run this as an easy long run, since it's so close to Cactus Rose.
- Cactus Rose 100 Miler - October 29 - Holy shit!
That's a lot of racing between now and October 29, but the schedule calls for a shitload of running. Even if I miss some of my long runs on account of moving if I can hit even most of these races I think that I'll be physically and mentally ready to take on Cactus Rose. In the meantime I have aid station splits and maps to memorize.
References
- Rocky Raccoon 100 Miler
- Cactus Rose 100 Miler
- Cowtown Ultra
- Nueces 50 Miler
- Grasslands 50 Miler
- Hell's Hills 50 Miler
- Bandera 100K
- Hill Country Trail Runners
- Mike's 100 Mile Training Plan
- Jeremy's 100 Mile Training Plan
- Preparation Races
- Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon
- TATUR Midnight Madness 50 Miler
- The Lake 60K - Part of the Capt'n Karl's Endurance Runs series.
- The Falls 60K - Part of the Capt'n Karl's Endurance Runs series.
- The Shoe 60K - Part of the Capt'n Karl's Endurance Runs series.
- Vermont 50 Miler
- Tyler Rose Marathon
I will never run Grasslands again. My running partner, Josh, picked Grasslands as his first fifty mile race. I told him that I would pace him and make sure that he got in safe and sound. Normally I look forward to races, and helping a friend through their first fifty should have heightened my anticipation, but I had nothing but anxiety about Grasslands. Josh and I ran out at the LBJ National Grasslands on an NTTR club run last May, and the thing that I most distinctly recalled was sand. Lots of sand. My anxiety proved one hundred percent spot on.Saturday morning rolled around and I got up at three thirty. I ate a bowl of cereal and drove over to meet Josh at about four forty-five. We hit the road for the LBJ National Grasslands and arrived shortly after six. On the way from the car to the packet pickup table I ran into Corina and Greg, who spotted my bright yellow Salty Banana shirt long before I spotted them. Apparently it practically glows even in the dark. We had plenty of time to check in, pin our bib numbers on, and use the bathroom. After preliminaries were out of the way we were able to visit with my friends who showed up for various races. Corina, Greg, and Julie, who was still recovering from her awesome performance at the Rocky Raccoon 100 miler in February, were there to run the marathon, Fawn was there for her second fifty miler, and Kevin was there getting ready for his very first fifty miler. Libby even showed up a couple hours before her half marathon to cheer everyone on. Chatting with friends and getting pumped up to run was probably the highlight of the race.Before our start at seven the race director, Kevin Boudreaux, gave us all the ground rules. He told it was going to be hot, it was going to be sunny, and we needed to stay hydrated, filled to the gills with electrolytes, and sunscreened up. Then he described the course. We were starting with a short two and a half mile out-and-back, followed by four colored loops: blue, white, yellow, and red. The loops were in descending order of length, which sounded awesome. I just kept repeating "BWYR" to myself the entire race so I wouldn't forget what loop I was on. With a simple "go" from Kevin we were off.The start/finish line and aid station (called the TADRA Main Aid Station) were situated basically at the center of a large cloverleaf. The out-and-back went along the tail end of the blue loop. It was dark when we started but would not remain so for long, so I went out carrying my trusty flashlight. It proved plenty adequate to help navigate the easy, slightly rolling, sand and dirt terrain. As we got near the turnaround point and started getting the leaders coming at us there were lots of "good jobs" and "keep it ups" on both sides. On the whole the out-and-back was entirely uneventful, even the parts where I was feeling musical, much to the amusement and chagrin of the three or four people behind me.Josh and I finished the out-and-back in high spirits. While he texted his progress to his wife (having phone service out there was awesome) I stashed my flashlight and hit the aid station for my traditional Coke, Gatorade, and cookies. Josh does not have as much aid station experience as me, so I was practically dragging him out of the aid station. Gotta keep it short! In any case, the blue loop was a lot of fun. We were still fresh and running a lot. We wanted to walk the uphills, and it was frequently tough to decide what to walk because the hills out here were low rollers with nothing very steep or high. There was also not much sand on this section. Many of the vistas were amazingly beautiful, with rolling, grassy hills topped with lush, leafy trees and weathered, rugged gullies. We saw a ton of places where it looked like fast moving water did serious, serious damage and decided that we didn't ever want to be out there in a torrential downpour. We were still feeling great and moving along at a good pace when we hit the out-and-back section. We were able to run really well through this section because we knew what to expect. We were glad that the longest loop was coming to an end.White loop (remember "BWYR?") came up next. This was possibly the most demoralizing 12.8 miles I have ever run. Things started off well enough. The blue and yellow trails coincided for a couple of miles before splitting at the small Drover aid station. There were two six mile splits at Grasslands. The first was on the blue loop, and given our freshness and relative coolness of the morning it was not a problem. The next six miles constituted the second six mile split; they were a hellacious mix of sun, heat, rolling hills, and sand. The heat really started to ramp up and the sand showed up more and more frequently. When I say sand, what I really mean is loose, fine, shifting, quad crushing white sand. Running through these sandy stretches was like running on the beach. I wear Inov-8 X-Talon 190s, and they have the most aggressive, almost cleat-like, lugs I have ever seen on a trail shoe, and I STILL couldn't get a grip in this sand. Yes, it was that deep. We eventually decided that for the sake of saving our legs for later in the race we would walk the sandy sections. This was frustrating because we'd run a hundred or two meters and then have to walk a short distance and do it all over again. I couldn't find any solid cadence and I know my running efficiency suffered because of it.I was completely out of water by the time we hit the FS904 aid station. This one was manned by some of the awesome folks from Lake Grapevine Runners and Walkers (LGRAW). I took a little longer at this aid station so that I could get some extra fluids down before heading off. From FS904 we had a little under five miles to the start/finish area. If anything these miles were worse than the preceding six. The sand was worse, the scenery seemed to wilt and fade in the heat. Did I mention that the sand was worse?Back at the start/finish area I heard someone comment that they heard the white loop was the most difficult of the course. That was a bit of a relief, but I was not overly looking forward to the rest of the race. Josh was definitely moving slower, and shortly after we started the yellow (BWYR) loop we had to slow to a walk because Josh was feeling light headed and loopy. I told we shouldn't fuck around with that and he said we needed to keep going. After a few minutes he was feeling a bit better so we managed to run the rest of the way in to the Drover aid station. Here we made sure to drink plenty of fluids before splitting off from the white loop. I don't remember much about the next section except that as we approached the Outback Gate aid station we saw someone detach themselves from the aid station and head our way. It turned out to be our trail running friend Julie, looking fresh after her marathon finish. She brought us cups of water to drink on our way into the aid station where she was working with her husband Matt. Heading into the aid station I was noticing a twinge in the tendons connecting my lower hamstring to my knee. I didn't think much about it, but after we left Outback Gate it started getting worse. After a couple of miles it was a pretty persistent pain, and it stuck with me for the rest of the race. I figure I must have been doing something wonky while pushing through the sand, but I really don't have any idea what. Also, after Outback Gate it was my turn to feel a bit woozy. Fortunately I was able to keep running, albeit at a slower pace, and drinking some extra water helped clear things up.Fortunately the red loop (BWYR) was the shortest loop of the day. I didn't say anything to Josh, because he was looking pretty beat, but I was seriously worried, because I noticed that the red loop and the white loop coincided a bit. This was not a good thing. The section from the start/finish area to the familiar FS904 aid station was pretty tame, but then we were on the white trail for a few miles and it was even more of a merciless beatdown than the first time because now we had another twenty miles or so on our legs. We had to walk a good portion of the last five miles because Josh was feeling completely spent. He said at one point that basically everything from his shoulders down hurt, and nothing was getting any better. Oddly enough I started to get a strong second wind and I was pushing our pace when we were able to run, particularly after the red loop split off again from the white loop. Some of this was too much for Josh, so we slowed down when necessary and managed to finish out the race running strong for the last mile or so. We finished in about 11:22, much slower than we had hoped. I can't say I was overly surprised. I knew conditions at the LBJ National Grasslands could get ugly.Josh, even though he was feeling beat to shit, was also feeling completely elated. He just ran fifty miles! I could not have been happier to have been there to help him out.To wrap things up, the aid station volunteers were all wonderful and understanding. Everyone was dealing with wind and flying sand all day. When I took my shoes and socks off you almost couldn't tell that I was wearing socks. My feet and toes were caked with a ridiculous amount of dirt. I felt like I poured half of the Grasslands out of my shoes.The second best thing about the run, after chatting with friends before the race, was the drive home. It was the Saturday of the super moon. The moon was closer to the Earth than it had been in eighteen years. We were driving east down a paper-flat stretch of highway as the moon, an eerie crimson disk, rose literally directly in front of us. I have never seen the moon look that amazing.I will never run Grasslands again.
References
Nueces is a race that almost didn’t happen for me. Since Rocky Raccoon fell through in February on account of stupendously shitty weather in the Dallas area I had been in a bit of a depressed rut. Sara encouraged me to go, knowing that I needed to hit some trails for a race. The week of the race I started asking around on the NTTR mailing list for someone to carpool with. My plan was to drive down to Rocksprings Friday afternoon, get to the race early on Saturday, register, run, and drive back to DFW as soon as I finished the race. I didn’t really have a lot of hope that I’d be able to find someone who would be willing to go down there and immediately come right back. Fortunately the wonderful Sonia Burdett answered my e-mail. She was running the 25K and would be able to drive back if I was not in any condition to drive.Plans made I waited impatiently for the end of the week. Noon on Friday finally came and I loaded my gear in the car and head out to Fort Worth to pick up Sonia. Sonia is an ex-Marine and has been ultrarunning for a long time, so she had some great stories to tell on the six and a half hour drive down to Rocksprings. As we were zigzagging our way across the central Texas hill country we decided that we could probably reach Camp Eagle in time to register and pick up our packets. We made a direction change in Junction and started angling south towards Camp Eagle.I was a bit anxious about this part of the drive, because I completely forgot to buy a good map of Texas and neither of our phones were getting much signal. I was having a hell of a time getting directions from the Tejas Trails website and my GPS was being not very responsive. Fortunately Texas hill country is really pretty. Lots of beautiful rolling hills, prickly flora, and plenty of rocks. When we finally got to the turn for Camp Eagle we almost missed it, because it is not very conspicuous. The eight mile drive down the bumpy dirt road really made me wish that I had a small SUV. It took us thirty minutes to get down the road to Camp Eagle. We just barely made it to the lodge before it closed down at seven. I was able to register, and I also entered the USATF Fifty Mile Championship. I registered for USATF when I ran in the 100K National Championship at Bandera, so entering the championship at Nueces didn’t cost me a thing.The drive to Rocksprings took about forty-five minutes. Checking into the hotel was an interesting experience. The owner kept all the reservations in a large book, and he had me enter my personal information on a note card. No electronic booking here. The room cost a whopping $55. It was slightly musty, but the beds were comfy enough. Sonia and I had two options for dinner: King Burger and Big Mamma’s Diner. We opted for Big Mamma’s Diner. I deliberated between tacos and a chicken sandwich; I settle for the chicken sandwich. When it came out I was unhappy to discover that it was a fried chicken sandwich. Normally fried food before a race is a no-no for me, but the batter was light and crispy and after a brief consultation with my gut I decided to go for it. The sandwich really was very good. It didn’t give me any trouble during the race.I’ve said a lot about the trip to the race, but one thing that I haven’t really stressed is how freaking remote Rocksprings and Camp Eagle are. I had a bit of a phone signal in Rocksprings, but nothing in Camp Eagle. Fortunately Sara knew this and wasn’t worried when I wasn’t able to get back in touch with her until late Saturday evening.People were still pretty sleepy when we got to Camp Eagle at about five on Saturday morning. Sonia and I set up camp in the pavilion near the start/finish line. We picked up some coffee served by Camp Eagle volunteers, used the bathroom, pinned our numbers on, and got ready to run.Forty-four runners lined in the pre-dawn dark at six o’clock. Race director Joe Prusaitis said a few words and then right at six o’clock sharp we set out. I was hugely relieved to finally be running on trails again. I hadn’t done much on trails since Bandera, and my soul was really suffering because of it. I was in for one heck of a rejuvenation.The split to the first aid station was the longest on the course, and it seemed to grow longer as the day progressed. As we left the pavilion in the dark we almost immediately started climbing up a loose dirt path. My strategy coming into this race was to walk all the uphills and run everything else, so I found myself walking pretty early as we entered a series of short switchbacks. At this point the runners were all clumped together and everyone was feeling pretty chatty, so I didn’t have time to get frustrated with the early walking. Although it was dark at the start I knew that we’d be getting enough light to see by in an hour or so. That being the case I opted to just carry my flashlight so that I wouldn’t be overly burdened with my headlamp. This proved a good choice, since I didn't have any trouble with footing before the sun came up.On the first leg of the split there were lots of shallow ups and downs and switchbacks that gradually climbed the side of one of the big hills. I had the sense in the dark that we were gradually climbing, and as the sun started to brighten the terrain, which was growing continuously more rocky, I confirmed it. Through this stretch I started talking to one of the guys behind me, since we were going at pretty much the same pace and had the same race strategy of walking the hills. His name was Miguel Valdez, and I would end up running twenty five miles with him before he dropped back halfway through the second loop. We were in pretty high spirits when we hiked a slightly steep climb and peaked the first hill. The peak was broad and flat and, like most of the trail, it was covered with loose, shifting rocks. These ranged from marble-sized rollers to foot-sized sliders. It was pretty tough through many sections to find decent places to put your feet. The amazing thing about the peak was the three large crosses off to one side. Several fire pits were spaced across the summit, as were a number of stone benches. This was obviously one of the main destinations for hikers at Camp Eagle, and the place definitely had a peaceful air about it.Peace proved to be short-lived, because once we reached the far end of the shifting, rocky plateau we started a gradual and then not so gradual descent. After a bit of twisting about we reached the bottom of the descent, where we were very shortly greeted by the aid station. We’d see this aid station, called Texas, twice each loop, and the first time through they just had water and Oreos. When the aid station volunteers noticed my flashlight hanging from my wrist they said they could take it and drop it off at the lost and found back at the pavilion. I took them up on their offer so that I would not have to carry it the rest of the eleven or so miles remaining on the loop. Then I topped my water bottle off, grabbed some calories, and hit the trail with Miguel pretty close behind me.I’ve struggled with how to describe this next section. Basically immediately after leaving Texas we started a ridiculously technical climb up the side of the hill. I’m pretty sure that Joe just marched up the hill putting blazes on trees at random. Between ducking under low branches, dodging around close trees on the zig-zagging trail, and being careful of the plenitude of rolling, sliding rocks underfoot this was a long, brutal, treacherous climb. When I finally cleared the trees and arrived back on a more proper trail I was so relieved to not be avoiding course obstacles I ran, joyously, even though there was still a bit of uphill before another crest.From this point the trail was pretty easy and runnable for a ways as we wound our way around the hill. Climbs were low and gradual and the descents were easy and, compared to much of the rest of the rock-infested hell, pretty smooth. Then I came around a slight bend in the trail and found myself at the top of a dusty jeep road. This was the first long, straight downhill of the course, and it was very long. I dropped some three hundred feet on this fast, leg-spinning descent. When I reached the bottom I found a couple long, gradual switchbacks that cut the trail lower and lower into the hill. Coming around one final twist I dropped down into the narrow green valley that sheltered the Wall aid station.I’m starting to get my aid station routine down. I had my bottle filled with Gatorade while I shotgunned a couple cups of Coke, grabbed some peanut butter and jelly sandwich pieces, and hit the trail. The trail here crisscrossed a dry stream bed, and I could imagine it getting pretty hairy during a thunderstorm. As it was the sheer cliffs on either side provided excellent shade and welcome protection from the increasingly powerful wind. At the far end of the canyon was a long suspension bridge over a wide, shallow green-watered river. Temperatures were already starting to climb and the water was looking very tempting. Fortunately the bridge did not sway and was easy to run across. After the bridge was a short, murky section where I ran into some thick tree cover as I made my way around one hill and twisted back along the side of another. This is the section where, on the second loop, Miguel dropped back and told me to keep going without him. By then he knew what was coming, but on the first loop we didn’t know what to expect.But then we came around a sharp bend at the bottom of the hill and found ourselves faced with the climb up Windmill Hill.Windmill Hill is the single most hellacious climb I’ve ever done. As near as I can tell the climb was only four hundred or so feet, but every step was like trying to hike up a mountain of dusty white, shifting, rolling, tumbling marbles. I could not find any good footing the entire way up the hill. On top of that there was no cover at all and the sun reflected cruelly off the chalky white rocks.Halfway up windmill hill I ran into a couple of other runners who looked a bit lost. The trail seemed to branch and there were no blazes in sight. After stopping and pondering for a moment we decided to just keep going up the side of the hill. A minute or so up we found a blaze pinned to the barbed wire fence marking the boundary of Camp Eagle. Relieved, we all continued our seemingly endless trudge up the hill.Windmill Hill did eventually level off, at which point the trail curved and I could see the hill’s namesake in the distance. It made a horrible, grinding, rusty cry as the wind spun it around. This section of trail was more or less level and very runnable, which I took advantage of. Shortly after passing the windmill the trail turned again and I was confronted with the second long descent. This one was not nearly as pleasant as the earlier jeep road. Instead of the smooth, dusty road this descent was a rock-strewn trap just waiting to turn unwary ankles and send runners tumbling down. Through the entire careering descent I kept envisioning fast, agile feet while muttering a long stream of “OhshitohfuckohshitohfuckmotherfuckingIdon’twanttodie!” It was a total blast.I came to the Texas aid station for the second time at the bottom of the Windmill Hill descent. I followed my normal aid station routine and head out for the last short leg of the loop. This started with a bit more descent, thankfully more gradual than the previous descent, followed immediately by the first water crossing. The river that I crossed earlier on the suspension bridge crosses the road into Camp Eagle at a twenty-foot-wide spillway. After looking briefly for dry ways across I just splashed through the ankle deep water. It was wonderfully cool, and I knew that it would feel amazing on the last loop. Next was a short, almost boggy section with the second water crossing immediately after. This time I splashed through the shin deep river before climbing a couple of natural steps and starting down the trail back to Camp Eagle.I found myself, after hiking up a steep, short climb back up to Camp Eagle, having to turn to the right and cross the second suspension bridge on the course. This one swayed and bounced, so I walked its length only to discover the only really heart-wrenching part of the run: at this point the 50K runners were directed to the left, back towards Camp Eagle and the promise of the start/finish aid station; fifty milers had to do a short, switchbacked climb that led to a gradual, wooded descent back down to Camp Eagle. After being so close to the start/finish line it was really disheartening to get turned away at the last moment. Fortunately this mile and a half or so section was pretty easy.I hit the start/finish area and stopped briefly to take a dump. After that I refueled at the aid station and swung by my drop bag to reapply some Bodyglide. It was starting to get very hot and I didn’t want to fight with chafing. I was delighted to find my flashlight a short distance from my bag, so I stashed that before hitting the trail for my second loop.By my watch I finished the first loop in about 3:30, so I was pretty far off a ten hour pace, but I could still shoot for eleven hours. The way that these three loop races usually go is the first loop is pretty easy; the second loop blows, because you are neither fresh nor near the end; the third loop is tough but the smell of the barn and victory pulls you along. Nueces followed this pattern perfectly. I won’t bore anyone with a full description of the second loop, but I’ll hit some highlights.Miguel dropped back very shortly before the second climb and I didn’t see him again for the rest of the race. Halfway up I ran into another runner who was going pretty slowly. He had run out of water and was struggling to reach the Texas aid station. I gave him a squirt out of my water bottle, even though I was starting to run low. I was dry by the time I reached Texas. This guy was a character, though. My strategy on the flats was to go at an easy pace and then pull back a bit from that. He would merrily go charging forward only to stop and walk a little ways ahead. I would go slow and steady and eventually pass him. We leapfrogged like this all the way to Texas, where I left him as he refueled. I didn’t see him again the entire race. I think he may have dropped out, because he was in pretty rough shape.I finished the second loop in about 3:40. My pacing strategy was working pretty much perfectly. By then Sonia had finished with her 25K and had the cup of coffee waiting for me that I asked for. I downed half of that and told her to expect me between eleven hours and eleven and a half, but given how beat-up I was feeling to look for me closer to eleven and a half. Then I was off.I did not see another runner the entire third loop. It was a pretty lonely 3:38 on the trail. Lonely and hot. By this point the sun was out and it was brutal. Fortunately I left enough in the tank that I could still fast hike up the two really gnarly ascents. The thing I love about the last loop of any race is being able to say goodbye to all of the obstacles you pass. Goodbye loose rocks, goodbye Windmill Hill, goodbye bridge. Hello water crossing! Splashing across that cool water was an enormous relief, not to mention it signalled that I only had a couple of miles to the finish. I managed to dig down and run just about everything after the water crossings.Although I felt beat to shit and worn out I was really, really happy at the end of the race. I had done everything that I set out to do on a course that proved more technical than anything I’ve ever been on. To top it off the USATF representative came by and hung a medal around my neck and gave me a kiss on my nasty, sweat and salt-stained cheeck.“What?”Eighth place in the USATF Fifty Mile National Championships.
References
The Cowtown Ultra, a 50K entirely on roads, was not a great race for me. In fact, it was downright crappy (sorry for the pun, as you’ll see later). I should note that some of this post will probably be pretty candid and, quite frankly, disgusting. Of course, some of the most interesting running experiences are, but consider yourself warned. I ran the Cowtown Half Marathon in February of 2009. It was my second race and my second half marathon ever. It was also the start of a five year medal series. Each year the Cowtown medal is one part of a five-pointed star. The half marathon medal has a blue background. I discovered last year, after I ran the Cowtown Ultra for the first time (which was also my third ultra), that the ultra medal has a really nice brass background. The star, when I am finished, will look really nice in the plaque frame that I got in 2009. It also turns out that that stupid medal is probably one of the few reasons I ran the Cowtown Ultra this year. I started the series, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to stop before finishing.2010 saw a new venue for the Cowtown races. In previous years races started and stopped in Sundance Square in downtown Fort Worth, but downtown Fort Worth just couldn’t handle all the bodies. Traffic getting into the race was a nightmare and just maneuvering during the first parts of the half, full, or ultra was difficult in the press of bodies. I know fast half marathoners who had to weave through inconsiderate 10K runners at the end of their race.Things changed this year. The venue was moved outside of downtown to the Will Rogers Colliseum. Parking was plentiful and easy to get to. The races were also, wisely, split up. The 5K and 10K races were held on Saturday morning while the half, full, and ultra were run on Sunday. Special bling was available for runners running a race on both Saturday and Sunday.Josh met me at my house at 5:00 and we hit the road for Fort Worth. We’re both generally early risers and prefer to have plenty of time before the start of the race, so this was a good arrangement for us. When we got to Fort Worth we had to drive around a bit to find a good parking lot. The place we found was about three blocks south of the race start, and this made for a great leg-stretching walk after the race. We were very early and got a great parking spot. There were a couple of port-o-potties in the parking lot so I went to try to take a dump. I was not very successful, and given the weight in my gut I had a distinct fear that it would come back to bite me in the ass, so to speak. I was right.After waffling around a bit we pinned on our numbers and started getting ready to go. Josh brought one water bottle. I carried my pack, which is not something that I bring out very often. I looked at the weather reports and it looked like it was going to get very warm and humid during the day, and I’ve been bitten before by road marathons not having enough supplies, and I didn’t want to have to rely on the Cowtown to have enough water for everyone later in the race. Generally I prefer to be more minimal in my running. In any case, we got our hydration ready, checked sunglasses, ensured salt tablets were safely in place, and then walked up to the race start.When we got to the race start we looked around for our friends Suann and Corina. While looking for them I ran into my Arlington friends Scott, Steve, and Ben. We chatted with them for a bit before heading off to continue looking for Suann and Corina. We never were able to locate them, so I went to use the can (unsuccessfully) one last time before joining the crush of runners ready to start. After the national anthem and a slightly delayed start the horn sounded and we were off...to a very slow walk. This is really one of the things that I hate about these large road races. The race started but it took us seven minutes to actually cross the starting line.I’m not going to say a whole lot about the course except to say that it was a much better course than last year. It seemed hillier and generally more scenic. About 10K into the run we went through the Stockyards, which was pretty neat, and I enjoyed pounding up the large hill on Main Street around mile nine. Some of the neighborhoods we went through were a little sketchy, but an equal number of them were really fancy and obviously housed a good deal of money. The ultra section of the course, a 2.5 mile out-and-back along Trinity Trails, was pretty much identical to last year.The weather was hot and humid, just like expected. We got misted on a couple of times, but there was not much relief from the stickiness. Fortunately it was overcast until right after we finished, so at least we didn’t have sun pounding on us like last year.There were water stops along the course every mile and a half or two miles or so, and aside from the first few that were woefully understaffed they generally did a good job of providing water and Gatorade to runners. Later in the run there were a few places that had Gu, bananas, and oranges, but the food at road races is really lame compared to the buffets we have at trail ultras.Of course, later in the race I wasn’t even remotely interested in food. My stomach really started bothering me about mile eighteen. I managed to deal with it until mile twenty-one, when I had. To. Shit. It was awful. Josh and I were on a good, solid pace until I lost five minutes to the bathroom. And the worst part was that I wasn’t done, I was just as done as I could get at the time. We started running again and I felt much lighter, but I still didn’t feel great. My stomach bothered me pretty chronically for the remaining ten miles. Around mile twenty-five I was looking seriously again for another port-o-pottie, but they were all occupied and I didn’t want to burn more time sitting down.I probably should have sucked it up and waited, because my stomach was really hampering my pace. Josh kept wanting to go faster but I just couldn’t go any faster without ending up with a serious chocolate mess on my hands (well, cheeks). So I plodded on, feeling awful. From the point when the ultra split off until the end of the race, which was about six miles total, there was not a single port-o-pottie, so I was pretty much forced to hold it. It pretty much sucked.In terms of a race, I ended up a solid twenty minutes behind where I should have been. The run was not a total wash, though. I saw a ton of people that I know along the course. Early in the race we passed the race director for the Wee-Chi-Tah Trail Marathon up in Wichita Falls. She was talking about how they are having back-to-back marathons next year: the Wee-Chi-Tah Trail Marathon on Saturday and then a run entirely on paved bike trails on Sunday. I’m rather looking forward to that double headed. Around six miles in I ran into Ted, who beat me at both Palo Duro Canyon and Wee-Chi-Tah. He was pacing his cousin for her first marathon. On the ultra section of the run I saw Sergio, who ran with Suann and me for eighteen miles or so at the Fort Worth Marathon; Amy, who ran out at my Fatass Turkey Trot last year and whom I ran into at the Wee-Chi-Tah Trail Marathon in January; Kay, whom I’ve run with at North Shore on several occasions; another guy whose name I forget (Darrel?) whom I have run into at several races since the Rocky Raccoon 50 miler in February of 2010. I feel like there are others I’m forgetting, and I feel bad about that.So my race was pretty crappy. Stomach issues suck. Running on roads sucks. Will I run the Cowtown Ultra again? Maybe. I’ll run some race next year, but I just can’t get very enthusiastic about 50K on roads.
|