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!
