Don’t let the title scare you, it’s really a short report. Or was intended to be, until I started rambling. One Long refers to the race plan going into the Icy 8 Trail Adventure Run. The One refers to my race bib number, and Long was for the long loop. Each time you complete a circuit, you report your bib and loop (in my case #1, long loop of 8 miles, plus or minus two miles). It’s a short report because I was so efficient this past weekend, that I managed to cram 8 hours worth of running into just under five and a half. Or more accurately, the course did not require a full work day to work me over enough to cry uncle. In my last competitive effort, I had the #2 race number for a small 5k, in which I managed to come in second place. To dispel any foolish notions, I did not match place to bib this time around.
First, the adventure of getting to the starting line… For a 7:30 a.m. start in Spotsylvania, VA (Lake Anna State Park), I figured leaving the house at 5:15 a.m. would give plenty of time to make the 90 minute trip (~75 miles). I didn’t figure that the first highway would have all lanes blocked at that time of day. While Route 66 is never much for kicks, it’s typically not bad for a one exit jaunt early on a Saturday. Alas, some inconsiderate motorists elected to leave portions of their bumper cars scattered all over the place minutes before the wife and I hit the highway. We were only going one exit, so once we were a minute into the three minute trip and forced to a complete stop, we weren’t going anywhere until the tow trucks and medics cleared the path in front of us. Ironically, I thought that by waking up early on Saturday morning, I could avoid the nightmare commute of heading south on 95 on a Friday after work. I was wrong, not for the first time, and likely not for the last time.
As I sat parked on the highway, watching the minutes tick by, I pondered two options: 1. Get down to the race whenever I could, and just start late (you can still cover a lot of ground in 7 hours) or 2. Give up, go home, and go back to bed (I could still do a long run on my own, though it would not be nearly 8 hours, and would lack the support stations of the race). My resolution was to call it if we didn’t move by 6 a.m. Instead, they let us through at 5:52, meaning I was still on the clock for reaching the start on time. Time to speed, which I did for the next 73 minutes, with the exception of a joyous gas station bathroom bowel explosion a few miles short of the park (no port-a-pot line for me!). For the second straight ultra, I arrived in the middle of the pre-race prep / pep talk, and spent the few minutes that I should have been listening, running around and trying to get ready instead. It’s not like they covered anything important, such as course markings…
I had warned Sai of two things the night before. First, I was going to be super-stressed leading up to the start of the run. Had we not been held up in traffic, I believe most of this stress might have been avoided. Second, I would be completely worthless in terms of functionality after the race. I apologized for both expectations on Friday, so she wouldn’t be surprised on Saturday. I even had a stressful dream on Friday night, in which I was fighting with Sai as she was driving me to the race, because she wanted to stop and go shopping on the way, and I said there was no time for that. Just to be safe, I drove down on Saturday, and other than the traffic stop on 66 and the bathroom break at the end, we did not stop! Not that Sai would ever prioritize shopping over one of my races or anything. For what it’s worth, I recognize that being late for or even missing the race would have been disappointing, but was not nearly as bad as the morning being had by the occupants of the vehicles involved in the accident. I tried to keep this in perspective. Anyway, the traffic was warning sign #4 that things might not go as smoothly as I would have hoped.
Warning sign #1 was the fact that my January training miles were way down from the previous couple of months. In fact, since I have been back to training regularly (as of December 2011), January was my weakest month yet. This was an attempt to alleviate some hip pain I associated with over-training, and a misguided belief in a lengthy taper that would make me fresh for racing on February 2nd. As of the day before the race, the hip was still not right.
Warning sign #2 was the cold that I started to contract two days before. Sore throat, runny nose, coughing, sneezing. Not the way that I wanted to feel heading into a heavy effort.
Warning sign #3 was the temperature reading on my car on race morning. Earlier forecasts I saw had the race in the 30s, which would be chilly, but bearable. But when I left the house, it was only 13 degrees, which warmed up to maybe 17 degrees at the start, irrespective of wind chill. Damn cold!! I wore more layers than I would have liked. With a name like Icy 8, the course lived up to its billing. No room for me to complain, but another sign that it would not be an enjoyable cakewalk run like it was in my head. Visualization is supposed to be helpful. However, I never visualize it being miserable, or else I probably wouldn’t keep signing up for these stupid things.
The race was a double wide trail run around an 8 mile loop, run either clockwise or counter-clockwise. There was also a 4.7 mile loop option (started the same as the 8, but turned off sooner). You could mix and match as many combinations as possible within the 8 hour time limit, as long as you reported back to the start between each loop with your bib and distance (e.g. One – Long). My plan was to just run the full 8s until the end of time. I figured that though the course had its hills, it was still a lot flatter and less technical than my previous 50 mile night run (a little under nine hours), so I should have been able to better that effort this time. The course record was 54.1 miles, set in 2012 by Olivier LeBlond, a Frenchman who was running again this year. 54.1 was run by him completing five longs and three shorts.
Unless you are a true ultra running badass (which I will admit I am surely not), it’s probably not a good idea to pass by the course record holder of a long race inside the first hour. Nonetheless, that is what I did around 45 minutes into the first loop of the day. Before I got to that point, I started out easy, sucking on a cough drop and running with an old co-worker who I hadn’t seen in at least five years. He caught me up on his travels and the happenings of the rest of the crew with whom he still kept in touch. I paid more attention to the details of who had how many kids and where everyone worked than I did to the course we were following, because we were simply following the crowd. Half an hour later, he was finished talking, and I was finished running patiently, so I chased down two packs of runners in front of us. The first group had a DC local whose exploits I had read about on the guy’s blog, so I knew the guy was good (better than me), which probably would have discouraged a smarter runner from passing. The second group had the aforementioned record-holder, Monsieur LeBlond, along with two other studs with better credentials than myself. I fell into pace with these three, alternating leading, through the completion of the first lap in just under 64 minutes. Definitely a little fast, but I still felt good. What could possibly go wrong?
I hit the aid station, grabbed a couple of chocolate chip cookies, and ran out the end of the station for about thirty seconds, before realizing that I was all alone. It then occurred to me that the course took us back out the way we came in, so I was going the wrong way. I had seen the course map ahead of time, but stupidity prevailed anyway. I stopped to re-tie my shoes, and headed back through the aid station, and back onto the proper path. Second time out, I didn’t see a couple of the guys from the first loop, but hooked up with LeBlond as we retraced our steps for half a mile (I had only wasted about two minutes at the aid station and beyond). I didn’t recognize our return trip after a while, because we were running the loop backwards (and because I was too busy bullshitting with Brian about old times on the way out an hour plus before). A few minutes later, we were rejoined by another of the initial pack leaders (the other guy apparently went the clockwise direction). This guy and I chatted for a bit, since he was easier to understand than LeBlond – Olivier was a nice guy, but his accent was a little tricky while trying to focus on not tripping on tree roots and rocks. He knew the course pretty well, as he ran the trails regularly, but his plan was to stick to short loops from this point forward, in order to hit the aid station more frequently since he was not carrying a water bottle. His early departure left me to lead the Frenchman for a while, following ribbons in trees against the flow of traffic. Most people preferred to run the clockwise direction. Having done both ways, I believe this was the easier way. The trails were rolling hills throughout, with only one steep section at the halfway point. However, clockwise seemed to flow better, at least for me. Around the time that we should have been wrapping up the second loop, LeBlond and I realized that we were off course. We backtracked, and jumped back onto a section of course, but somehow were still pretty far from the finish. I don’t know how we botched it, but by the time we reached the aid station (after the Frenchman asked a couple of outgoing runners “Where is the ed stession?” to which they slowly translated in their heads and directed us back), we had been on the course for an hour and twenty five minutes. By my estimation, we spent an extra 20 minutes running this loop, tacking on two plus miles for which we would not receive course credit. What a waste!! LeBlond did not seem too fazed by the extra distance. His stated goal was just to get in 50 for the day as a training run for a 100 miler in five weeks time. I lacked his cool and let him do his own thing at that point. But really, how the hell can the guy who owned this course not know the course?!
For the start of loop three, I reconnected with my former colleague Brian, who had also gotten off course for part of the second loop, though he didn’t add quite as much surplus. Brian shrugged it off as part of the charm of ultra trail running. I was not so understanding, instead preferring to curse the stupid course with its tricky ribbons. Determined to run this loop the right way, I then proceeded to lead Brian into a backward loop again. Clearly the common denominator in all the wrong way running was me. My apologies to the course – I am an idiot. LeBlond passed me going the opposite direction around halfway through that loop, though he was on the better side of halfway (i.e. 4.5 miles for him to 3.5 for me, +/-). In other words, he was still cruising, and I was losing steam. The sun had come out for a couple of hours during the first two loops, with flashes of blinding light through the trees at certain points in the course. I had started to warm up, and was considering shedding some layers, including switching to a baseball cap to shield the eyes in lieu of the winter cap I had started with, yet I felt too rushed each time I hit the aid station to bother changing. By the time of loop three, cloud coverage took over, and the warmth disappeared with the sunlight. About the only smart thing I did all day was to not de-layer. When I hit the steep section at the midpoint of the long loop, I elected to walk up one of the bigger hills while chewing on some frozen Jelly Belly sport beans. They’re not very good frozen. A runner going opposite direction asked which way was easier – clockwise or counter. I told him he was going the right way, while wondering why I kept going the wrong way. Anyway, that loop finished at around 11:15 a.m., roughly 75 minutes after starting. Not bad, considering the few minutes of walking. And fortunately, I managed to stay on track this time. At the beginning of the loop, I had decided that 40 miles for the day would be satisfactory instead of the original goal of 50+. Brian had told me his plan was to get in something in the 20s and call it early. He was also planning on meeting up with his wife Beth to run some of his last loop. Sai was not planning on joining me on the course. Three more long loops at the same speed I had just run would have given me 48 miles with a half hour to spare (before aid station breaks), but I didn’t think I had it in me. I took my first tumble during lap three, wacking the right knee after tripping on a treacherous root (or more likely my own tired feet). My back was starting to tighten up. My sore throat was feeling sorer. My mood was still bad from my wasted twenty minutes at the end of lap 2. And the resurgent cold weather did not make more running seem like fun. Two more laps would give an even 40 (42 unofficially), which would still be my second longest effort ever.
Early on in Lap 4, I carefully followed some other people to make sure I caught the left turn for the clockwise loop. There was a double ribbon in a tree, which was probably explained to everyone during the debriefing I missed in the morning. I was still in running / jogging form at this point, which meant that I was steady passing people walking. Everyone was in good spirits, encouraging each other, and I tried to return the kind words and kudos. One woman excitedly called me out as the #1 runner each time we passed each other, based on the bib I wore. Other than this safety-pinned identifier, I was far from #1 in any sense at this stage. After I was done for the day, I saw her and explained that I was not top seed, just first alphabetically. I felt like the forward loop was easier than laps 2 & 3, yet I still took to walking for about fifteen minutes midway. My hip was hurting to join the other ailments I already complained about in Lap 3. Walking uphill, I felt my calves crying out in pain. I had felt like my right foot was being stabbed by a small rock during one of the earlier loops, and emptied debris out of my shoe once already; the stone came back on this lap, just to add an extra annoyance. The blueberry – pomegranate gu I ingested made me want to vomit. There was one small stream crossing on the long loop, which required a quick wet plant in the water before springing out the other side. On the first two crossings, I noticed a small splash each time. On lap 3, my foot felt soaked (and it was cold!). On lap 4, I soaked both feet, as I lacked the energy to bound over in a single stride. There was a 1 Mile to Go sign on the trail that I had seen on the first loop. I hadn’t seen it since, since I was going the opposite direction on the subsequent loops 2 & 3. On Lap 4, I was searching for this beacon, but someone kept moving it further and further from where I was on the trail. Around this time, I passed Brian again, and he was early into his last short loop along with Beth, who had more energy than either of us. I told Brian that I thought I was done for the day after this one. Beth called us both wimps. I’ve been called worse.
At five hours and five minutes, I finally reached the 1 mile to go sign. I decided I’d push it in, and finish under 5:15. By my watch, I crossed at 5:14:30. Blazing speed!! Loop 4 took around 90 minutes, which is damn slow, except when you consider that a chunk of it was spent at walking pace. There were finisher’s prizes for completing 32 miles (a drinking glass, lacking the drink). Close enough to a trophy for me. I called it a day at 12:45 p.m., two hours and forty five minutes early. If I had ten minute miles left in my legs, I could have completed another sixteen miles. I could have walked it in at just over three miles per hour to get to 40 miles. Instead, I settled for the path of least resistance, and proceeded to gorge on pierogies at the aid station.
Some other runners had ended their run around this time, while the majority of the people were still carrying on. More power to them! The race director asked me why I was calling it a day, and I offered no good reason other than to say that I had had enough. Remember that scene in Dodgeball where Peter (Vince Vaughan) is talking to Lance Armstrong about dropping out of the tournament, and Lance shames him into reentering? Well Lance is a goddamn cheater, and I lacked his steroids, ego, talent, etc., so he can go to hell. I was ready to be embraced into the caring arms of my attentive wife who was… where the hell was she? No phone service, no sign of the car, no warm change of clothes, I would have been better off running rather than sitting around freezing! I spent a few minutes thawing out under the hand dryer in the park’s bathroom. A few minutes later, Brian and Beth finished, with Brian registering an official 33.4 miles (three longs, two shorts). The bastard beat me! Unofficially, my 34 beat his 33.4 official. His unofficial 34.3 still beat me. But who’s counting? We both earned our glasses, earned the admiration of most people who think that running 30 plus miles is impressive, and earned the disdain of those who think that we wimped out and should have kept going (I think I fall into this latter category). Oh well. Beth allowed me to use her phone to call Sai, who was 20 plus miles away shopping.
I don’t know who won the event, as official results were not yet posted as of this writing. There were still ultra badasses cruising the trails long after I was on my way home. There was even a mother-daughter tandem that said they were hoping to cover 32 miles. This impressed me because the daughter was either pre-teen, or Olympic gymnast stunted growth pre-pubescent. Whatever her age, the kid looked way too young to be running that far. I hope she doesn’t burn out or break. There are many less healthy things she could have been doing though. [P.S. – Having since checked the final results, I found that Leblond managed third place (tied for distance with #2), under a mile behind the leader – 53.6 miles to 52.7. #2 and 3 ran six longs and one short, while the winner ran two longs and eight shorts. My lazy 32 placed me 43rd out of 86 competitors.]
In summary, I like the idea of a timed run wherein you choose your own distance if used as a training effort. For competing, I need a finish line to keep me going. By shortchanging myself on Saturday, I felt like I was saving something to be able to keep running on Sunday. On Sunday’s run, I was definitely sore to start, but was bothered more by the head cold than I was by the legs, at least after the first few minutes. A day later, I feel terrible, but again, it’s more from the cold than it is from the lower extremities. I don’t know if by not running an ultramarathon distance on Saturday I would be feeling healthier today, or if I had really pushed myself and run farther if I’d be feeling worse (good luck translating those double negatives). Who knows? At least I know I can handle a good three hours of effort, plus a couple of bad hours of pain before buckling. Looks like 50k may be the way to go for me.
Traipse Reports - Trips and Races 