I’m faster than you. Wow, what a cocky statement. However, at that time, I could only agree with the four year old, who taunted me as I hobbled by at a crawl. I believe her mother admonished the over-confident tyke on a bike, but I was too busy chuckling to myself to pay much heed.
I was a few blocks from my house, grimacing in pain as I struggled to try to run in order to maintain my perfect 2016 (not yet skipping a day), when I passed a young girl and her mother, the former astride a shiny bike still with training wheels; she cheerfully said hello and told me that she could ride a bike, to which I offered congratulatory encouragement, before she followed up with the aforementioned smack-talk, to which I concurred with her assessment. I’m pretty sure you are (faster than me). And with that, my grimace transformed into a grin and I continued on my way, not willing to take her up on the challenge.
Normally, I admit I can be pretty competitive. I know I am not the fastest, but adrenaline has often gotten the better of me and I’ve tried anyway. Plus, manly pride cannot easily allow a little girl to show me up. But not today. Yesterday, I competed in my third Icy 8 Hour Trail Run, and this time I did it right.
In 2013, I ran an official 32 miles (34 unofficially – foolishly went off the well-marked trail for a couple extra miles), bailing with several hours still to go, content to have completed an ultra and earned a commemorative glass. In 2015, I ran an even 40 miles, bailing with an hour and twenty still to go, content to have bettered my previous mark and earned another commemorative glass. In 2016, I was given the #3 bib (alphabetically based), so I figured it was a sign that the third time would be the charm, and I was determined not to leave too much time on the clock.
Progressively speaking, I should have run 48 miles to continue the trend from the first two outings. And this was the loose plan heading in, but during the course of the day, plans change. The Icy 8 features two trail loop options – an 8 miler and a 4.7 miler. Usually I opt for the longer for a few reasons: 1. The more time out running, the less time I lose at the start / finish aid station gaining calories but losing minutes; 2. More people seem to prefer the short loop, so the long loop offers more solitude (yes, I am anti-social); 3. Less repetition / monotony; 4. I like even distances – for the 4.7 mile loop to help, I’d need to run 10 of them to avoid rounding. In last year’s race, I heard the course record holder tell someone else that his strategy was to run long loops until he got tired, and then switch to the short loops. More food for thought…
After a 4:30 a.m. alarm, the wife and I hit the road just after 5 for the 1:45 trip down to Lake Anna State Park. Perfect timing, short bathroom line, everything worked out fine as I toed the starting line along with a hundred or so other hardy-soled like-minded souls for our 7:30 a.m. start. Morning temps were in the 20s, so I was layered with a light long sleeve, running jacket, hat and gloves, and a pair of shorts that felt way too short on my exposed legs, but you’ll never catch me wearing tights. Sai stuck around for the first long loop, before disappearing for the next several hours (I had told her to try to be back by 3, in case my eight hour run only took seven and a half – shooting for efficiency!).
Race started, and one guy took off like a madman. For once, it wasn’t me! Two more guys followed behind at a more sane pace, then another guy and myself. Runner #1 was quickly out of the picture, while the rest of our chase pack of four stayed within sight. I chatted with the guy next to me a bit about the course, his strategy, other races, etc., simple things to pass the time. His plan was to stick to short loops, so after a short bit, the course split, and we went our separate ways. Telling myself that it was a long day, I did my best not to chase down the other two guys and tried to just relax and slow down. Of course I still finished the first loop in 68 minutes, which was way too fast. At that point, I switched from the winter cap to a baseball cap (to keep the sun out of my eyes), and continued the chase for lap 2. For most of this loop, I still saw one of the guys in striking distance, but again, I didn’t want the pressure so I tried to let him go, including by stopping to piss in the woods to give him more distance. I returned to the start around 9:52 (if memory serves), which means I balanced out the 68 with a more reasonable 74 minute loop (including a short stop to refill the water bottle and eat honeydew at the aid station), before returning for lap 3. Towards the start of this one, I saw one of the guys ahead of me on the side of the trail stretching, so I unintentionally passed him. A couple of miles later, I caught up to the other guy I had been trailing, so we ran together for a few minutes before he let me go. During those few minutes, I told him that I thought we were going a little quick. He seemed to understand and listened, while I picked up the pace to finish out the loop in around 72 minutes. Too fast. I stripped off the jacket, grabbed more grub, and repeated the cycle. Four long loops were completed in around five hours (32 miles), leaving me with three hours to try to squeeze in another 16 miles to keep the even numbers going. By this time, my legs and back were tightening up, and the bottom of my left foot was really hurting. Based on prior experience, I anticipated the subsequent loops to be less pleasant, and calculated that I could do three short loops instead of two longs to get 14.1 miles instead of 16. Each 4.7 mile loop would need to be run in an hour or less, which I figured I could handle (12 minute miles, when I had been averaging better than 10s).
Lap 5 was amazing. The short loop is so much easier!! Maybe the course record holder knows his stuff, and the majority of other runners realized it before me too. Whereas the long loop splits off and does its own thing for a couple miles before reaching a stream crossing (which, lacking any kind of jumping ability, always resulted in at least one drenched, cold foot for me), then hitting its dreaded W hill (down, then up, then down, then up again), then another longer gradual hill, before rejoining the short course for a shared few miles, the short loop skips all of that extra ugly mess! I had to again stop and stretch at the aid station (back and legs still felt the toll of the effort), but I was comfortably inside of an hour for the first loop, and felt good heading back out for another. Other than the transition from the stop at the start to reaching my stride, wherein it was painful to start up again, I was steadily running the whole time. Lap 6 resembled Lap 5, except that the runner I had passed during Lap 3 returned to catch up to me around 2/3rds through. People were running faster during the event, but because everyone is doing their own thing (short or long, clockwise or counter-clockwise), it’s hard to tell who is where or how they’re doing unless they pass you. No one had passed me since the start of the race until this guy, over 40 miles in, who had a ton of energy as he finished his last lap. Lucky for me, he did not strike out again, so I didn’t feel as bad about the pass. Again, the short loop was done in under an hour, and I reached 41.4 miles around 2:10 p.m., giving me 80 minutes to do another circuit. Ten minute miles would bring me to the wire for a long loop, including a water hazard and extra hills. Seventeen minute miles would ensure that I surpassed 46 miles for the day. If you do not return before the end of eight hours, whatever lap you’re on is forfeit. I opted for the safe bet, and ran short again to be sure. The trail was much less crowded this time around as many people had likely already called it a day, though the mud was worse with the warmer temperatures and the heavy traffic that had abused the trails all day. Still, I felt strong, and with a quarter mile to go, I saw a runner ahead whom I was determined to catch before the end. I caught up to him with about an 1/8th to go, and told him we had to finish strong. He thought I was an idiot, but nonetheless, followed my lead and we sprinted (using that term generously) to the finish. There, I found my smiling wife waiting for me!
By my watch, I finished 46.1 miles in seven hours forty minutes and nineteen seconds. Including six aid station stops and five pee breaks, I still averaged just a hair under ten minutes per mile. Sure, maintaining that pace, I might have squeezed in two more miles to reach 48, but I feel like I did enough to maximize the effort on what I was considering an early season training run and not a goal race.
The winner ran 50.8 miles, second was 50.3, third was 48.9, and I nabbed fourth at 46.1. The top woman also ran 46.1, but I have no idea if she beat me or not, because we were not looping together. I can confidently say that she never passed me in the same direction! The 48.9 #3 runner was the same guy I had run with at the very beginning. He looked strong every time I passed him in opposite directions during the day, though he told me afterwards that he regretted his decision to throw a couple of long loops into his routine in the latter part (ironic – he changed his plan from all shorts and regretted it, while I changed mine from all longs and regretted not changing sooner!). I was limping noticeably afterwards, and Sai made fun of my form. She said that I looked worse than everyone else. My buddy who sprinted in at the end with me said that the kick could not have helped the joints, but I told him it was totally worth it.
Of course, it is disappointing to be able to barely move a day later, and to have a little kid make fun of my snail’s pace. But I don’t think she logged over fifty miles for the weekend, so there’s that!
Traipse Reports - Trips and Races 