Sunday, December 3, 2017

2017 Isle Du Bois 55k Race Report

I was staggering along the trail thinking, "I'm going to just keep walking until I faint.  Then this will all be over."


The lead up to that moment in the Isle Du Bois 55k saw me more excited about running in a long time, so the possibility of not finishing the race stung.   After the Night Moves Trail Marathon in August, I set my sights on the Bandera 100k.  The plan was to run several races for training.  , including the Dinosaur Valley 50k.


I'd been having lower back pain, sometimes not so bad sometimes sharp, since I'd stressed it at Night Moves.  This didn't stop me from running but it wasn't fun.  But then I came down with plantar fasciitus.  I think it was from a five hour walk I did right after Hurricane Harvey; I had been cooped up for days and walked around the Woodlands for hours looking around.  Regardless, my right heel and sole hurt badly enough to stop me from running for six weeks in mid-September to October.  I biked to keep up some semblance of fitness but I couldn't start Dinosaur Valley.  I got running again in early November.


I've been teaching Saturday at The University of Houston - Cy Fair, which is great but severely curtails my choice of races.  UHD designates the week before finals a reading week for the students, so I signed up for the Isle Du Bois 55k to take advantage of the free weekend and prepare for Bandera.  November training left me fairly confident. I built up to a twenty mile training run, a distance I always considered a benchmark for fitness.  But that run ended in a slog, as I didn't take any calories with me and crashed at the end.  So I was in reasonable shape but definitely not peak fitness yet.


Then the week of the race I got sick with a cold.  I rarely get sick but seem to come down with something fairly often before races; I remember I was sniffling and coughing as I started the 2014 Rocky Raccoon 100.   I don't know if it is the increased training or a psychological thing, but regardless it's no fun going into a race you trained for weak with a cold.


The Denton Area Running Club hosts Isle Du Bois at Ray Roberts Lake State Park, a beautiful venue.  The course consists of twisty and rocky mountain bike trails.  Some smooth running stretches, but a lot of short up and downs over rocks that prevent you from settling into a rhythm.  The race is super low key with 20 or so starting the 55k but has a nice, friendly vibe.


The course is all single-track, and somehow I found myself third or fourth in front.  I quickly stepped aside to join the back of a pack in the middle. 


During the second loop of three 11 mile loops, weakness set in, a combination of perhaps not enough training but mostly the cold.  Dizzy and coughing, I slowed to a crawl.  Runners asked if I were okay, so I obviously looked bad.  I calculated that I was moving far slower than twenty minutes a mile and at that rate there was no way I'd finish by the cutoff.  When you have put a lot of yourself into a dream and you feel it slipping away, that's bleak.  That's when the thought of just putting one foot in front of the other until I passed out seemed weirdly attractive.


Then I thought about the four-hour car ride home with the depression of a DNF and said to myself, "I don't want to do that."  That jerked me out of the wooziness and I found I could run again.  I plowed through the second loop.


Most ultras consist of peaks and valleys; this one I felt bad the whole way, only varied by the degree of badness.  My back and my ankle both hurt and I worried about re-injury.  I mostly hiked the third loop but ran enough to feel I'd made a decent effort.  I had to run really; this was my first race where I was in danger of not making the cutoffs.  Though the race organizers were not strict about it, we were supposed to start the third loop by 1:30 and finish by 5:30.  I beat those times by a few minutes.   There was a small group waiting in the parking lot at the finish who cheered for me.  A volunteer at an aid station when I was down shook my hand.


Despite not being the joyful experience I'd hoped for, I felt wonderful finishing.  When all seems lost and somehow you push on and accomplish what you set out to do, that's a great feeling.  Perhaps that's why I run these races. 


Though I set out to run the Isle Du Bois as a training run, the race seems oddly important to me.  It was my 20th ultramarathon finish.  It also was the only ultra I finished in 2017, allowing me to keep my streak of running at least one ultra a year since 2012 going. 


If I don't better my pace for Bandera, I will miss my 17 hour goal for a Western States 100 ticket.  I hope with more training and starting healthy I can meet that goal.  But I definitely feel better about my prospects with a finish than a DNF. 


Thanks to the Denton Area Running Club, the volunteers, and Terri for all your support.  On to Bandera!



Pre-race
 



Finish Line


About to leave the lake


Cool award!

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Sunday, August 6, 2017

2017 Night Moves Trail Race

When you think about tough race courses, it's usually elevation gain and rocky terrain.  The Night Moves Trail marathon teaches you about the power of sand and grass.

Held in the 7IL Ranch, Night Moves on the surface should not be a grueling race.  No climbing to speak of, starting at 8pm so the Texas heat in August plays a minor role.  But think about this. You know the slow-motion heaviness of running on the beach? You know when there's no more sidewalk and you trudge along the grassy shoulder of a road?  These feelings to me sum up Night Moves, which travels over sandy horse trails and open fields.

I had finally gotten in some consistent training for this race.  After running a couple off-the-couch half marathons to motivate myself to get back into running, I had experienced some sharp calf pain at the Pandora's Box of Rox Marathon which forced me to drop halfway. Then, this July I had the best month of training since my injury in January 2015.

The evening started off hot but with a pleasant breeze.  I had had some twinges on my knee and right foot earlier in the day and was weak from the start.  The plodding pace quickly drained me through the short purple loop (the course consists of short purple loop of less than six miles, red loop 7.9 miles, orange 7.5 miles, long purple 6.3 miles).

I've suffered from back pain off and on since my mid-twenties and early in the race my back seized up.  It probably didn't help that before the race I was hunched over pumping air into the inflatable mattress in the tent for ten minutes.  My posture was impaired for the race and aid station workers asked me if I'd injured my hip.  Each step hurt.

The course was well-marked but in the dark with the open-field running I took a wrong turn on the red loop and ended up at the start well ahead of time.  The race director Rob gave good directions to get back on course.  I moved pretty slowly through the first half of the race.

I always get jitters early in a race, thinking about the long hours ahead. Will I make it? On the orange loop things started clicking and I settled into a groove, picking up the pace a bit and making steady progress.  Still, on the back half of the orange seemed interminable.  Round the corner and there's another long open field.  And another. And another.

Finally making it back to the start I fueled up.  I hadn't used Tailwind before and drank it exclusively during the race; I think it really helped keep up the energy.  I chugged a Red Bull as it was past one am at this point and I've suffered sleep deprivation in past events, though it never came this night.

On the long purple I suddenly decided to run hard, for my midpack abilities anyway.  By this point I knew the grass fields were unpleasant but way more runnable than the sand.  I charged ahead. Though my legs and back hurt, I had energy and it felt like a regular jog after work almost.  Arriving at the final aid station, I asked how far it was to the finish.  Less than three miles.  I had knocked out  half the loop.

I hiked most of the sandy sections, eased by the thought that no matter what I'd be done in less than an hour.  Again, I picked up the pace on the runnable stuff and finished in a sprint.

Interesting wildlife encounters:  three snakes, a rabbit, and a handful of cows on the trail in the middle of the night.

It's been a year since I finished a marathon and it is always a wonderful feeling to finish a long race. Rob, Rachel, and all the volunteers put on a great race and thanks to all!