The Background
After DNFing at Cactus Rose, I forced my mind away from running. For the most part, I abandoned Twitter, Facebook, and running blogs to both block the grief from not finishing my goal and give myself space to focus on other interests. I picked up John D. MacDonald's Cinnamon Skin, a Travis McGee novel, and started a reading binge, finishing a lot of mystery novels over the month. It's amazing how much time social media eats up and I need to find a balance for the future.
My spirits lifted with a good run at the Team Red White and Blue 10K and my Achilles felt fine. Ready to get back in the game and get a preparation race in before Bandera 100K, I decided to run The Texas Trails Endurance Run 50K in Huntsville State Park. I would have run the 50 mile version, but my wife's company holiday party would start at 7pm, and there wasn't enough time to run 10+ hours and get ready.
The first ultra-distance I completed was a 50K training run in Huntsville State Park; I think it took seven or so hours. But I've never actually raced a 50K and it'd be a guaranteed new PR. Now my focus race is the Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile in February, the 50K will give me a chance to race some of the same trails. Less than an hour from my house, there would be no travel-related issues.
Arriving 45 minutes before the start, the 32 degree chill promised to make the race interesting. After picking up my packet, I retreated to my car and read a bit before the start.
The Course
My first trail race, the 2012 Orphan Hope Marathon, was in Huntsville State Park. Before the race, I'd read online from Rocky Raccoon 100 participants on how flat the trails were. However, coming from my road background I thought the climbs were crazy on that first trail race! Now that'd I'd run in the Texas Hill Country, I get the point and the little rollers are nothing anymore. Basically, there's a lot of double-wide smooth trail mixed in with some single track rooty stuff and some plank bridges over marsh. The 50K would be a 10K loop followed by two 12.5 mile loops.
The Race
My main goal for this race was just to finish and get the taste of the DNF out of my mouth. That being said, I wanted to run the whole way. I thought sub 5 hours was possible and it seemed like something to shoot for if everything clicked.
As we jogged off into the cold under the grey sky, I realized the mistake it was not to search harder for my gloves. My fingers were alternating between numbness and sharp pain the first three or so miles, but slowly this faded. After the end of the first loop I saw some gloves cast off to the side of the trail, giveaways from the race that I hadn't noticed from the swag bag, and I grabbed them.
Running at a brisk but steady cadence, I finished the first 10K in 59:06, 9:31 pace. I let people pass me and reminded myself to run my own race. I held steady through the second loop, finishing it in 1:57, 9:26 pace.
About a mile into the final loop, I felt a little bit of weakness. I was wearing a hoodie for warmth and I had never worn my pack over this before and didn't want to chance something new on race day. The shorts I had on had no pockets, so my only storage was the pouch in my bottle, which would hold about four gels. I was trying to minimize my stops at the aid stations and probably spaced the first three gels out too far. So at the next couple of aid stations I grabbed handfuls of M & Ms and a cookie. My energy level soon stabilized and I didn't go into a true low point.
I had slowed a bit as my legs started to get sore but I was still running a ten-something minute a mile pace. I passed a few people on the way to the final aid station. I asked the volunteers how far to the finish line and they said two and half miles. Checking my watch, I saw that finishing sub 5 hours would not be in the cards, but I still started running harder. As I went into the final half mile, I spotted a guy I'd been going back and forth with all race and decided to chase him down as I barreled into the finish in 5:04:05.
Reflections
I needed a race like this after Cactus Rose. I finished in 13th place out of 94 runners in the 50K, which was definitely an ego boost for a midpack runner like me. I ran 31 miles at a 9:47 pace, faster per mile than I'd run some of my early road marathons. I'd always thrown in some walk breaks, sensibly so, into my longer ultras but this was the first ultra I've run every step.
This was also my first ultra without going into a low point. The lows are to be expected, of course, but I usually go into a trough around 18 to 25 miles in.
I executed this race to the best of my abilities, starting off steady and finishing strong. Given this experience, I'd love to take another shot at going sub 5 hours for 50K. I didn't have GPS for this race, which might have been a good thing to prevent obsessing on pace and going out to fast, but on the other hand if I'd known I was that close I might have made a harder final push.
So now I have a few weeks to train for Bandera 100K. After that, its just three short weeks until another shot at 100 miles...
Monday, December 9, 2013
Monday, November 11, 2013
Team Red White and Blue 10K
So after the debacle at the Cactus Rose 100, I rested my Achilles for about a week and a half. My wife was planning on doing the Team Red White and Blue 5K in my home town of The Woodlands and I was already signed up for the 10K, which would take place on November 10th, just two weeks after Cactus Rose. I tested out the Achilles on a couple of easy six mile runs in the days leading up to the 10K, just to see if I was ready to run again or needed to take more time off. I was totally prepared to just cheer on Elizabeth if I were still injured, but the pain was gone.
However, I did come down with a really crummy cold on Thursday, which was still full swing by Saturday morning. I tossed and turned all night and really didn't think I would be racing in the morning. But Elizabeth didn't want to run without me, so I decided just to go out and jog if need be. I did a quick 100 yard run down the street just to check my energy level and it seemed possible to run, but I didn't know how long it would last.
I figured I had nothing to lose with this race so I lined up near the front and went off at a sub 7 minute mile pace. There was a small pack of really fast folks ahead and I jockeyed position with three or four guys as we ran from the park, through neighborhoods, and around Lake Woodlands.
As I ran along, Achilles pain-free but coughing and blowing my nose, I kept waiting for my energy level to crash and fall to a 10 minute mile pace. I kept up the pace until beginning the last mile, where I felt weakness coming on. However, I was still running fairly fast, despite letting three or so guys pass me. I felt good enough about still moving quickly and didn't have enough in the tank to challenge.
I finished in 44:05, 16th out of 252 runners. A minute and a half separated me from 1st in my age group and thirty seconds faster would have gotten me a medal. Not bad for running sick!
This was a fun race and an ego boost after my failure at Cactus Rose. I'd like to mix more shorter stuff in with the ultras to keep up some speed.
Now, time to prepare for the Texas Endurance Run 50K in four weeks...
However, I did come down with a really crummy cold on Thursday, which was still full swing by Saturday morning. I tossed and turned all night and really didn't think I would be racing in the morning. But Elizabeth didn't want to run without me, so I decided just to go out and jog if need be. I did a quick 100 yard run down the street just to check my energy level and it seemed possible to run, but I didn't know how long it would last.
I figured I had nothing to lose with this race so I lined up near the front and went off at a sub 7 minute mile pace. There was a small pack of really fast folks ahead and I jockeyed position with three or four guys as we ran from the park, through neighborhoods, and around Lake Woodlands.
As I ran along, Achilles pain-free but coughing and blowing my nose, I kept waiting for my energy level to crash and fall to a 10 minute mile pace. I kept up the pace until beginning the last mile, where I felt weakness coming on. However, I was still running fairly fast, despite letting three or so guys pass me. I felt good enough about still moving quickly and didn't have enough in the tank to challenge.
I finished in 44:05, 16th out of 252 runners. A minute and a half separated me from 1st in my age group and thirty seconds faster would have gotten me a medal. Not bad for running sick!
This was a fun race and an ego boost after my failure at Cactus Rose. I'd like to mix more shorter stuff in with the ultras to keep up some speed.
Now, time to prepare for the Texas Endurance Run 50K in four weeks...
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Cactus Rose DNF
I'll keep this short as I don't have the heart to write more. Basically, during my attempt at the Cactus Rose 100, I felt a sharp pain in my right Achilles about 30 miles in. This was a recurrence of the injury that had sidelined me for two weeks earlier in the season. I tried to power hike on for another 15 miles but it became clear it wasn't getting any better. Weighed my options of pushing through on a race that meant so much to me and doing further damage and decided to drop.
Since then, mostly I've rested and tried to get my mind of running for a while. I did a Stairmaster session and there was little pain in the Achilles, so if this continues I may be back to running soon. But I'll be sure to listen for any pain and not push it.
I'm trying to have some perspective. There will be other races. I was already signed up for the Bandera 100K and Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile, so if I heal I'll have these to look forward to.
Since then, mostly I've rested and tried to get my mind of running for a while. I did a Stairmaster session and there was little pain in the Achilles, so if this continues I may be back to running soon. But I'll be sure to listen for any pain and not push it.
I'm trying to have some perspective. There will be other races. I was already signed up for the Bandera 100K and Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile, so if I heal I'll have these to look forward to.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Rough Creek 40 Mile Race Report
Background
This was my fifth ultra attempt in twelve weeks. In training for the Cactus Rose 100, I thought the Captain Karl's series of four 60K races, each three weeks apart, would make sure I got in my long runs. Three weeks after the series ended was the Rough Creek 40 Mile, the first ultra I had finished back in 2012. I thought, why not do one more?
In running an ultra every three weeks, my training settled into a rhythm. I tried to get in a 60-80 mile base week, including a lot of Stairmaster sessions (one hour equals six miles) and a twenty mile long run on the weekend. Then followed a race week with a mini-taper, three easy one hour sessions weekdays and an ultra on Saturday. I'd rest up three days or so then have an easy recovery week, running whenever it seemed reasonable. Simple enough cycle, rinse and repeat.
Work responsibilities Friday delayed my departure longer than expected, so by the time I arrived to set up camp at Dinosaur Valley State Park it was already dark. I fumbled around with my flashlight and stumbled into my tent to fall asleep. Three hours later I woke up again around midnight. I often have trouble sleeping before a race, and the rushed camping set up didn't help. Struggles to regain sleep were fruitless, and apart from a twenty minute doze at 4am insomnia reigned. At 5am it was time to pack up and head to Rough Creek Lodge.
The Course
The Rough Creek 40 Mile starts off with 2.75 miles of runnable smooth double-track and single-track. Then you hit the first section of the Rusty Crown.
Reflections
I'm trying to have some perspective and fight the feeling that I'm in a running slump. My first few ultras had gone pretty well and I finished in the top 25 to 30 percent. Since then, I've had major meltdowns at each race.
On the other hand, the five races this summer may have been the best possible Cactus Rose 100 training. I've faced heat, sleep deprivation, vomiting, blisters, jammed fingers, and going off course. I think the biggest obstacle to finishing Cactus Rose will be to manage when things melt down, and I couldn't have planned better than to bonk in race after race and then keep pushing. Plus, the challenges I faced slowed my pace and made me stick to my plan of using these as training races, rather than destroying myself before my true goal.
So, all that remains is to put in a few more weeks of training. I'll stick to a proper three week taper. Then I'll drive to Bandera and we'll see what happens...
This was my fifth ultra attempt in twelve weeks. In training for the Cactus Rose 100, I thought the Captain Karl's series of four 60K races, each three weeks apart, would make sure I got in my long runs. Three weeks after the series ended was the Rough Creek 40 Mile, the first ultra I had finished back in 2012. I thought, why not do one more?
In running an ultra every three weeks, my training settled into a rhythm. I tried to get in a 60-80 mile base week, including a lot of Stairmaster sessions (one hour equals six miles) and a twenty mile long run on the weekend. Then followed a race week with a mini-taper, three easy one hour sessions weekdays and an ultra on Saturday. I'd rest up three days or so then have an easy recovery week, running whenever it seemed reasonable. Simple enough cycle, rinse and repeat.
Work responsibilities Friday delayed my departure longer than expected, so by the time I arrived to set up camp at Dinosaur Valley State Park it was already dark. I fumbled around with my flashlight and stumbled into my tent to fall asleep. Three hours later I woke up again around midnight. I often have trouble sleeping before a race, and the rushed camping set up didn't help. Struggles to regain sleep were fruitless, and apart from a twenty minute doze at 4am insomnia reigned. At 5am it was time to pack up and head to Rough Creek Lodge.
The Course
The Rough Creek 40 Mile starts off with 2.75 miles of runnable smooth double-track and single-track. Then you hit the first section of the Rusty Crown.
The Rusty Crown
In the inaugural race last year, the three miles of the Crown's short, steep climbs were run continuously. This year, race director David Hanenburg of Endurance Buzz Adventures broke the sides of the crown in two, one on the way out and one after a new section, the Bowl.
The Rusty Crown is the reason this is one of my favorite races. Comparing the climbs to those of Bandera's Cactus Rose, Rough Creek's are shorter and less technical but steeper. There's one climb after another, with drops you ski-slide down. My favorite climb is one other racers have called The Beast, which seems like an almost 45 degree incline that you have to claw up using your hands.
The Beast
There's about a one mile section of smooth double-track connecting the first half of the Crown with the Bowl, aptly named as big gradual drops and ascents lead in and out of a bowl-shaped curve of runnable double-track.
The climb out of the Bowl
Emerging from the Bowl, you run the reverse way on the connecting out and back, hit the other side of the crown, then back the second out and back to the start for a half marathon loop that I'd be running three times.
The Race
Taking off on the fast double-track, a deer ran across the path; I remember the same thing happening during last year's race, which I took as a good omen.
Bombing down the first section of the Rusty Crown, I felt a sharp pain in my left shin. My gait significantly altered and I slowed down to suss it out. I was looking forward to playing in the hills, and stopping the race to an injury, let alone what it might mean to the rest of the season, loomed as a possibility. I decided to slowly jog a bit to see if I could wring out the shin. Sure enough, the pain went away in a couple of miles, never to return. Close call.
I finished the first loop in around 2:30 and took about eight minutes preparing for the second. I felt slightly hammered and knew I may have hit it too hard at this point. I told myself to slow down, but this would come all to true as the sun rose higher in the sky. Neglecting to check the weather report before hand, I caught up with a guy I'd met in previous races, Bill, who mentioned it'd be over 90. There was no cloud cover at this point and virtually no shade on the course. Glad that I had packed a hat and applied sunscreen, Bill soon pulled away from me as the heat did its work. I had done a few weeks of afternoon runs in the heat when I had a more flexible schedule as a school administrator in July, but of late most of my workouts had been at night. I tried to chug extra fluids at the aid stations, which were three or four miles apart and finish a bottle in between. As I dragged along and the temperature rose to a high of 96, my reeling mind kept reciting a line from The Wasteland, "where the sun beats / And the dead tree offers no shelter."
Starting the third loop, an aid station worker was headed in the same direction and offered to run with me. He could tell I was flagging and kept asking me questions about my running, my family, my work, to keep my mind engaged. It worked and we cruised at an even pace, 2.75 miles of the final loop done before I knew it. My mind was baked at that point and I can't remember your name, but thanks for keeping me alive.
As I headed into the Crown, immediately I felt totally drained, worn from the last miles of steady running. As I stumbled up and down the climbs and drained my bottle, the sun kept sapping my strength as I headed into the Bowl. Olga King saw me staggering and smiled, "Keep your chin up! That's the key!" As my vision began wavering, I told myself that I just needed to make it to the next aid station. I would sit in a chair, drink coke and water, take salt tablets and eat.
Which is exactly what I did. The only runner at the aid station, I made conversation with the kind and supportive volunteers. I must have looked like death at this point, because one asked, "So are you thinking of continuing?" in a way that sounded like she thought this might not be the smartest move. I said with a smile that I hadn't run 33 miles to quit and shortly thereafter walked down the trail.
Sure enough, a mile or so later I started to revive. As the fluids, salt, and calories worked their magic, the sun finally went behind a cloud. Nevertheless, I held back and hiked all the way into the last pass through the Rusty Crown. When I was in the trough, the thought going scraping up the inclines of seemed scary, maybe beyond me, and even though I was feeling better I saved my energy for a final push.
The last journey through the Crown was actually fun. Revived, I savored the steep climbing nowhere to be found in the Woodlands. Plunging down the long downhill exiting the Crown, there was a four-year-old boy standing alone halfway up, holding out his hand for a high-five; a parent and siblings were in sight at the aid below.
A runner in a similar shape that I had been in a few miles ago sat in a chair, so I offered some words of encouragement and told him he could walk it in and beat the cutoffs easily. Past the worst, I prepared to run it in.
Jogging along, coughing a bit, I came up to a lady, I'm not sure if she was a volunteer or just someone out on the trail, who said, "Thank goodness you coughed! I didn't think any of you were still out there!" I thought, "Not the thing to say to someone who's just run 39 miles," but I just ran on. (Checking the results later I was 10th out of 20 finishers, smack dab in the middle, so there! Seriously though, she meant no offense and none was taken).
I could smell the barn as the sun emerged from the clouds one more time, as just to say, "Yeah, I went easy on you this time, but remember who's the boss here." Then a cooling breeze eased the way to the finish line.
Nothing was left but to take my finisher's award, 100% pure Texas honey! David shook my hand. Endurance Buzz and all the wonderful volunteers put on a super race and many thanks for their help in getting us through an epic day!
Back at home with the honey bear.
Getting out of the Rough Creek shower, I threw up a few times. Stopping for gas before the three and a half hour drive home, I puked again. Stepping on the scales at 10:30 at night, I weighed 131, down from 140. So I was seriously dehydrated. Carrying one bottle in the heat was not a good idea.
I'm trying to have some perspective and fight the feeling that I'm in a running slump. My first few ultras had gone pretty well and I finished in the top 25 to 30 percent. Since then, I've had major meltdowns at each race.
On the other hand, the five races this summer may have been the best possible Cactus Rose 100 training. I've faced heat, sleep deprivation, vomiting, blisters, jammed fingers, and going off course. I think the biggest obstacle to finishing Cactus Rose will be to manage when things melt down, and I couldn't have planned better than to bonk in race after race and then keep pushing. Plus, the challenges I faced slowed my pace and made me stick to my plan of using these as training races, rather than destroying myself before my true goal.
So, all that remains is to put in a few more weeks of training. I'll stick to a proper three week taper. Then I'll drive to Bandera and we'll see what happens...
Monday, August 26, 2013
Capt'n Karl's Reveille Ranch 60k Race Report
Background
As mentioned in the last post, I've been using the Capt'n Karl's 60k series as training for the Cactus Rose 100. Knowing that I'll be running somewhere between 26-36 hours for Cactus Rose, I figured these night races would both acclimate me to the sleep deprivation I'd experience and make sure I get in the necessary long training runs.
I've been trying run 60-80 mile weeks this summer. In preparation for Bandera's hills, I've hit the YMCA stairmill for hour long sessions to work on my climbing and power hiking.
The first Capt'n Karl's, Pedernales Falls, was a DNF for me. Excited about starting my racing season, I tried to run with a stomach virus and ended up staggering and disorientated around about 12 miles in. Mule Shoe Bend and Colorado Ranch and were both suffer fests for me but I managed to grind them out.
The Course
In my opinion, Reveille Peak Ranch offers the most beautiful course of the series. There are three loops for the 60k, roughly 12 miles each. The first two miles or so are quite runnable dirt singletrack heading out from the pavilion by the lake, with a few rocky climbs and descents thrown in but nothing major.
After a couple of miles, you begin winding up the Dome, a stunning granite hill with scattered boulders and cliffs. You get to see its rugged beauty once in daytime, but on the second two loops you follow the highway reflectors helpfully placed along the path. The nighttime ascent was like hiking up an invisible freeway into the sky!
After the Dome, the trails get a bit more runnable but there are still plenty of rocks and climbs to have fun with before hitting the same smooth first two miles in the reverse direction to complete the loop. The aid stations are never more than three or so miles apart, so the course was easy to break up mentally.
The Race
Previously, I had arrived at Colorado Bend late and crossed the start a minute and a half after everyone else, so I headed out from the Woodlands early this time. I grabbed a burger and fries on the way, which would play a role in rest of the story.
Though I kept telling myself that I should just view these races as training runs, I secretly wished for a good performance each time. I really haven't felt like I've raced to my potential since the Bandera 100k, and a strong result would be nice. Conversely, I kept a quote from Mark Laithewaite that I'd heard on Talk Ultra in mind, that a runner's goal should be to race the best race they can on that day. If you can say you did your best with what the day gave you, you've won your race.
Another mantra was that there is no option but to finish. Barring a broken leg, the cutoffs were manageable enough that you could walk the whole thing.
Despite this assurance, I fumbled around setting up my tent and paced back and forth around the parking and pavilion area. Waking up at my normal time, five or six AM, for all of the Capt'n Karl's races in order to simulate a Cactus Rose late night running preview, I knew sleep-deprived suffering would await in the early hours of the morning.
I lined up in the middle of the pack and we took off. Though the pace was manageable for the first couple of miles, I felt I was pushing slightly for this early in and ultra and purposefully took a couple of walk breaks. The beauty of the climb up the dome lifted me as I ascended.
Then the wheels came off. The burger and fries I'd eaten seven hours before had just sat there, and by time I'd downed tons of sugar in coke and sports drinks I started feeling seriously nauseated. I threw up a couple of times, but more than these stops my legs felt drained from the nausea through the first loop. In addition to the puking, I started developing blisters that I knew would be a serious problem.
Crossing the timing mat in 2:53, I quickly attended to my blisters. Between stopping to vomit and at the pavilion, I probably spent thirty minutes standing still at this point.
Despite my best attempts to fix the blister issue, I winced as I ran out for the second loop. I knew at this point that each step of the next 24 miles would be painful. It seemed to make sense to run the first couple miles of smooth trail and then assess how I felt at the Dome.
The weakness from nausea was better but still there, and the blisters were worse than ever as I began the climb. Hopes for a competitive performance, at least by my middle-of-the-pack standards, evaporated and I shifted my focus to where it should have been from the first, that this was a training race for Cactus Rose. Visualizing that I was in mile 80 on the Bandera trails, I focused on aggressively power hiking at around 17 minutes a mile over the dome.
I pretty much hiked most of the second loop, reaching the pavilion in 6:38, about a 3:30 split. As I felt like things weren't getting any better, I'd likely be out there four or five more hours. The desire to DNF was always there, but I had told myself there was no option to quit. My six year old son had slipped a note into my pocket, knowing I'd find it reaching for a gel: "Daddy I love you so much James." Picturing my kids, I told myself I didn't drive four hours to the hill country to let them down. Wanting to get away from the temptation of my car as quickly as I could, I refilled my bottle with Gatorade and recrossed the timing strip in seconds.
Despite the finish-no-matter-what death-march that was likely to ensue on the third lap, I decided to run to the first aid station a mile and a quarter a way. If I didn't run this section, I might be fighting the cutoffs and that stress on top of everything else I didn't need.
Running along the dirt trails, I passed a guy I had seen a couple of times along the way; he caught me again as I began hiking up the Dome. Striking up a conversation with me, I instinctively settled into his run / walk rhythm behind him. All I can say is Jon, you saved my race. It's amazing the power of the mind, and as soon as Jon and I got to talking I revived and the pace seemed very manageable. Somewhere during this time I tripped on a rock and braced myself on a tree, jamming my ring finger which swelled up. I barely noticed, trying to hold onto the decent pace we were running.
However, the physical fact that my blisters began to reassert themselves slowed me with about five miles to go, as I reverted to my hiking and Jon jogged down the trail ahead of me. At this point, my Garmin was out of battery but I calculated that if I hiked three sub 20 minute miles to the last aid station, I could run in the last section and finish sub ten hours. I kept looking for the final granite climb I knew was shortly before the last aid and realized I was flagging as the minutes passed by. When I finally reached the feed station, it was 4:44. Running sub 12 minute miles for the last 1.25 miles should do it for ten hours. I knew it was laughable to be fighting for such a relatively slow time goal, but it was something to occupy my mind and help finish this thing.
Jon was there at the aid and we headed out together. My legs and feet were on fire but I did run it in. Out of it at this point, another runner and the people sitting near the finish shouted directions as I started to veer of course approaching the finish line, crossing in 9:57:07. Thanks to Jon and his support, I ran the final loop faster than the middle one.
Reflections
I didn't feel the elation after some of my previous races when the odds were tough, but there was a quiet satisfaction in completing a journey under difficult circumstances.
The slow pace and managed meltdowns of my Capt'n Karl's races may actually be a pluses for Cactus Rose, as I've put in additional time on the feet and gained some degree of mental practice for what awaits. With a 36 hour cutoff, if I have nothing better than the sleepwalking shuffle of the past few races I'll still finish.
I do need to put some more thought into nutrition and blister prevention, as I basically brought the problems of this race on myself.
I can't say enough about the quality of this race, and overall about the all the events put on by Tejas Trails. Joe, Brad, and all the volunteers provided an amazing experience, with impeccably marked trails and supportive aid station crews. Thanks to everyone for making this such a great event!
As mentioned in the last post, I've been using the Capt'n Karl's 60k series as training for the Cactus Rose 100. Knowing that I'll be running somewhere between 26-36 hours for Cactus Rose, I figured these night races would both acclimate me to the sleep deprivation I'd experience and make sure I get in the necessary long training runs.
I've been trying run 60-80 mile weeks this summer. In preparation for Bandera's hills, I've hit the YMCA stairmill for hour long sessions to work on my climbing and power hiking.
The first Capt'n Karl's, Pedernales Falls, was a DNF for me. Excited about starting my racing season, I tried to run with a stomach virus and ended up staggering and disorientated around about 12 miles in. Mule Shoe Bend and Colorado Ranch and were both suffer fests for me but I managed to grind them out.
The Course
In my opinion, Reveille Peak Ranch offers the most beautiful course of the series. There are three loops for the 60k, roughly 12 miles each. The first two miles or so are quite runnable dirt singletrack heading out from the pavilion by the lake, with a few rocky climbs and descents thrown in but nothing major.
After a couple of miles, you begin winding up the Dome, a stunning granite hill with scattered boulders and cliffs. You get to see its rugged beauty once in daytime, but on the second two loops you follow the highway reflectors helpfully placed along the path. The nighttime ascent was like hiking up an invisible freeway into the sky!
After the Dome, the trails get a bit more runnable but there are still plenty of rocks and climbs to have fun with before hitting the same smooth first two miles in the reverse direction to complete the loop. The aid stations are never more than three or so miles apart, so the course was easy to break up mentally.
The Race
Previously, I had arrived at Colorado Bend late and crossed the start a minute and a half after everyone else, so I headed out from the Woodlands early this time. I grabbed a burger and fries on the way, which would play a role in rest of the story.
Though I kept telling myself that I should just view these races as training runs, I secretly wished for a good performance each time. I really haven't felt like I've raced to my potential since the Bandera 100k, and a strong result would be nice. Conversely, I kept a quote from Mark Laithewaite that I'd heard on Talk Ultra in mind, that a runner's goal should be to race the best race they can on that day. If you can say you did your best with what the day gave you, you've won your race.
Another mantra was that there is no option but to finish. Barring a broken leg, the cutoffs were manageable enough that you could walk the whole thing.
Despite this assurance, I fumbled around setting up my tent and paced back and forth around the parking and pavilion area. Waking up at my normal time, five or six AM, for all of the Capt'n Karl's races in order to simulate a Cactus Rose late night running preview, I knew sleep-deprived suffering would await in the early hours of the morning.
I lined up in the middle of the pack and we took off. Though the pace was manageable for the first couple of miles, I felt I was pushing slightly for this early in and ultra and purposefully took a couple of walk breaks. The beauty of the climb up the dome lifted me as I ascended.
Then the wheels came off. The burger and fries I'd eaten seven hours before had just sat there, and by time I'd downed tons of sugar in coke and sports drinks I started feeling seriously nauseated. I threw up a couple of times, but more than these stops my legs felt drained from the nausea through the first loop. In addition to the puking, I started developing blisters that I knew would be a serious problem.
Crossing the timing mat in 2:53, I quickly attended to my blisters. Between stopping to vomit and at the pavilion, I probably spent thirty minutes standing still at this point.
Despite my best attempts to fix the blister issue, I winced as I ran out for the second loop. I knew at this point that each step of the next 24 miles would be painful. It seemed to make sense to run the first couple miles of smooth trail and then assess how I felt at the Dome.
The weakness from nausea was better but still there, and the blisters were worse than ever as I began the climb. Hopes for a competitive performance, at least by my middle-of-the-pack standards, evaporated and I shifted my focus to where it should have been from the first, that this was a training race for Cactus Rose. Visualizing that I was in mile 80 on the Bandera trails, I focused on aggressively power hiking at around 17 minutes a mile over the dome.
I pretty much hiked most of the second loop, reaching the pavilion in 6:38, about a 3:30 split. As I felt like things weren't getting any better, I'd likely be out there four or five more hours. The desire to DNF was always there, but I had told myself there was no option to quit. My six year old son had slipped a note into my pocket, knowing I'd find it reaching for a gel: "Daddy I love you so much James." Picturing my kids, I told myself I didn't drive four hours to the hill country to let them down. Wanting to get away from the temptation of my car as quickly as I could, I refilled my bottle with Gatorade and recrossed the timing strip in seconds.
Despite the finish-no-matter-what death-march that was likely to ensue on the third lap, I decided to run to the first aid station a mile and a quarter a way. If I didn't run this section, I might be fighting the cutoffs and that stress on top of everything else I didn't need.
Running along the dirt trails, I passed a guy I had seen a couple of times along the way; he caught me again as I began hiking up the Dome. Striking up a conversation with me, I instinctively settled into his run / walk rhythm behind him. All I can say is Jon, you saved my race. It's amazing the power of the mind, and as soon as Jon and I got to talking I revived and the pace seemed very manageable. Somewhere during this time I tripped on a rock and braced myself on a tree, jamming my ring finger which swelled up. I barely noticed, trying to hold onto the decent pace we were running.
However, the physical fact that my blisters began to reassert themselves slowed me with about five miles to go, as I reverted to my hiking and Jon jogged down the trail ahead of me. At this point, my Garmin was out of battery but I calculated that if I hiked three sub 20 minute miles to the last aid station, I could run in the last section and finish sub ten hours. I kept looking for the final granite climb I knew was shortly before the last aid and realized I was flagging as the minutes passed by. When I finally reached the feed station, it was 4:44. Running sub 12 minute miles for the last 1.25 miles should do it for ten hours. I knew it was laughable to be fighting for such a relatively slow time goal, but it was something to occupy my mind and help finish this thing.
Jon was there at the aid and we headed out together. My legs and feet were on fire but I did run it in. Out of it at this point, another runner and the people sitting near the finish shouted directions as I started to veer of course approaching the finish line, crossing in 9:57:07. Thanks to Jon and his support, I ran the final loop faster than the middle one.
Reflections
I didn't feel the elation after some of my previous races when the odds were tough, but there was a quiet satisfaction in completing a journey under difficult circumstances.
The slow pace and managed meltdowns of my Capt'n Karl's races may actually be a pluses for Cactus Rose, as I've put in additional time on the feet and gained some degree of mental practice for what awaits. With a 36 hour cutoff, if I have nothing better than the sleepwalking shuffle of the past few races I'll still finish.
I do need to put some more thought into nutrition and blister prevention, as I basically brought the problems of this race on myself.
I can't say enough about the quality of this race, and overall about the all the events put on by Tejas Trails. Joe, Brad, and all the volunteers provided an amazing experience, with impeccably marked trails and supportive aid station crews. Thanks to everyone for making this such a great event!
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
The Road to Cactus Rose 100
I'm starting this blog to share my experiences on the trails. My journey started in January 2010. After gaining a bit of weight and a routine physical revealed high cholesterol, I decided to start running on the treadmill to get in shape. At first, I'd run one song at twelve minutes a mile and walk another, slowly building up my fitness.
Two books really influenced my running, the first of which being a second-hand copy of Jim Fixx's The Complete Book of Running. Fixx wrote so beautifully about the experience and community of running that it inspired me to get over my self-consciousness of running outside and take to the roads.
I joined my wife in a few 5Ks and worked on getting my time down. I took the plunge and entered a marathon, going out too fast and staggering to the finish with cramping legs. The marathon bug got me and I ended up running six in 2011 and 2012.
Another find at Half Price Books changed my running career, Dean Karnazes' Ultramarathon Man. I've always been a fan of The Lord of the Rings, and the way Dean wrote about ultrarunning, and in particular the Western States 100, made the journey seem like such an adventure. Inspired, I began to explore Ho Chi Minh Trails in the Houston area. Since moving to The Woodlands, Texas, I mostly train in the George Mitchell Nature Preserve.
I signed up for the 2012 Grasslands 50 Miler and repeated my first marathon mistakes, going out too fast and DNFing. Since that debacle, I've finished eight ultras, my best race being the 2013 Bandera 100K. I mostly race the events put on by Tejas Trails. I'm pretty much a midpack runner and just race to challenge myself.
My focus now is to train for the Cactus Rose 100. I ran the 50 mile version of this last year and am looking forward to, and fearing, the unknown of the 100 mile distance.
I'm using the Tejas Trails Captain Karl's 60K series of night races for training this summer. I DNFed the first race as I tried to race Pedernales Falls sick, but finished the other two.
I'm heading out for the final race in the series this weekend, the Reveille Ranch 60K, so hopefully I'll post a race report soon.
Thanks for reading!
Two books really influenced my running, the first of which being a second-hand copy of Jim Fixx's The Complete Book of Running. Fixx wrote so beautifully about the experience and community of running that it inspired me to get over my self-consciousness of running outside and take to the roads.
I joined my wife in a few 5Ks and worked on getting my time down. I took the plunge and entered a marathon, going out too fast and staggering to the finish with cramping legs. The marathon bug got me and I ended up running six in 2011 and 2012.
Another find at Half Price Books changed my running career, Dean Karnazes' Ultramarathon Man. I've always been a fan of The Lord of the Rings, and the way Dean wrote about ultrarunning, and in particular the Western States 100, made the journey seem like such an adventure. Inspired, I began to explore Ho Chi Minh Trails in the Houston area. Since moving to The Woodlands, Texas, I mostly train in the George Mitchell Nature Preserve.
I signed up for the 2012 Grasslands 50 Miler and repeated my first marathon mistakes, going out too fast and DNFing. Since that debacle, I've finished eight ultras, my best race being the 2013 Bandera 100K. I mostly race the events put on by Tejas Trails. I'm pretty much a midpack runner and just race to challenge myself.
My focus now is to train for the Cactus Rose 100. I ran the 50 mile version of this last year and am looking forward to, and fearing, the unknown of the 100 mile distance.
I'm using the Tejas Trails Captain Karl's 60K series of night races for training this summer. I DNFed the first race as I tried to race Pedernales Falls sick, but finished the other two.
I'm heading out for the final race in the series this weekend, the Reveille Ranch 60K, so hopefully I'll post a race report soon.
Thanks for reading!
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