This write-up of my first 50 mile run, the reasons I did it, and my post race thoughts, is dedicated to my dear wife – Karen, who gives me unending support as we weave our lives together J.
The Background
As I think you all know, I enjoy long distance trail running; apart from anything else it is a whole lot easier on the body than road running. Sometime around last June, I wondered whether I could, and what it would feel like to, run 50 miles. Well, in the world of ultra running, “run” is somewhat of a misnomer as only the elite few actually run the whole way for that distance – the intent is to cover the distance as quickly as you can on your two feet, so most mortals mix running with walking, which sometimes degenerates into “forward motion”. Before June, the longest I'd run before was a single 50k (31.25 miles) trail race and several road marathons (26.2miles). Anyway, the idea was hatched and the training began; with the 5th February 2005 Rocky Raccoon 50 Mile Trail Endurance Run as the goal. This race is in Huntsville State Park, just north of Houston, and chosen because it’s close to home, well placed in the Texas running season, and has a 29 hour time limit.
Once I'd convinced myself I really wanted to do this, I informed my running buddies of my desire, and almost immediately got myself a “coach” - it almost seemed whether I wanted one or not! Thank you Mariela, you really did help tremendously. The training was somewhat loosely organized: to slowly build up the weekly mileage, to do two specific long 50k organized runs, and to build up and do long back-to-back runs (these are when you run for 3-5 hours one day followed by another 3-5 hour run the following day). All the time I was investigating what seemed to work for me, and what didn’t work.
Apart from getting your body and muscles into shape, two main considerations are calorie intake and maintaining a good electrolyte balance. Generally the human body can manage to cover about 18-22 miles without nourishment (hence the “wall” on marathons) and can be trained for a little further. It is reckoned that 100 calories are needed for every mile run or walked, or to put it the other way around – you need to run or walk 4-5 miles to burn off that hamburger you just ate! My main source of food for these races is a version of “Ensure Plus”, a liquid food originally designed for older people who cannot, or do not wish to cook. It contains 350 calories in an 8oz can, which I drink diluted with water. Electrolytes are needed to replace the salts and minerals lost through sweating, especially if the weather is hot. For shorter races sports drinks like Gatorade are usually sufficient, but for longer races something more substantial is required, and I take the replacement salts and minerals in pill form – Endurolytes.
Soon, it was the end of January…
The Rocky Raccoon Trail Course
The 50 mile course is three loops each of 16? miles, of mostly relatively flat single track trail with many tree roots. Each loop is roughly a large circle around the lake, with an “out and back” added in the middle. There are 5 different aid stations supplied with food and drink, and volunteers to help out:
· The first of these aid stations (Dam Road) is about 3.7 miles from the start and is where the “out and back” leaves the loop.
· The second is at the far end of the out and back (Far Side); the out and back is 5.7 miles.
· The third is then the same as the first (Dam Road)
· The fourth is at the parks campsite number 174 (it's called Campsite 174) which is 4.4 miles from Dam Road and 2.9 miles before the start / finish line.
· The fifth is at the start/finish line.
Pre-Race Week
I continue to taper and end-up doing no running this week to allow the body as much time to recover as possible, without loosing any fitness. I come of my cholesterol medication (some studies suggest that statin based drugs can cause muscle breakdown in endurance activities), and cut / trim the toe nails.
A race plan takes shape and is heavily driven by the ability to have two drop bags, one at the start/finish and one at the Dam Road aid station. A drop bag allows runners to have their own supply of whatever they need available at these two points. On Wednesday evening I pack my two drop bags, with what I believe to be more than I'd ever need. They include a change of clothes and socks, cans of Ensure Plus, cans of Sobe (an energy / caffeine drink), and a blister kit amongst other things. Because I'll pass the Dam Road more often and also later in the course, it contains extra items; these include a change of shoes, a flashlight in case I'm still out in the dark, a jacket and a camelback. The camelback is a backpack that contains a water pouch and extra space to carry items such as a jacket and hat, i.e. items which I may need to complete the last parts of the last loop, so the plan is to start with a water belt and switch to the camelback on the last loop.
On Friday, I walk around the office, and also check my e-mails to see how much I’ve managed to raise in pledges for Texas Children’s Hospital. This is something that I’ve done since I started marathon running, and this year I’m hoping that it will give me a little extra boost and encouragement to complete the 50 miles. The weather forecast was good, low in the middle 40'F and a forecast high in the low to mid 60's, and mostly cloudy. There was a 50% chance of rain after Saturday midnight, but that didn’t worry me, I’d be finished by then. This was just about perfect running weather as far as I was concerned. Confidence was high - I'd trained, I'd tapered, I had a race plan and the weather looked good, but pre-race nerves were even higher; this was after all uncharted territory.
My main goal was to finish, and spend Saturday night in my own bed; this seemed very achievable as I expected to be able to finish in something between 10 and 12 hours, and the race start was 7 am.
Race Day
The alarm goes off at 3:45am; it's just over an hours drive to Huntsville for the 7am race start. Usually when I do early morning organized runs I ask myself “Why I'm doing this?” This time was different – I knew why I was doing it. We leave home around 4:30am, with Karen, driving. I'm not sure what she's going to do for the 10-12 hours I'm expecting my run to take – maybe the outlet malls - yikes, but it's really wonderful that she's part of this – thanks sweetie J.
We arrive around 5:45am, just in time to collect my race number and watch the 100 milers start their race at 6am. It’s then back to the minivan for final touches... Vaseline everywhere that might rub, apply the BlisterShield inside the socks, and on with the shoes. I deposit the drop bags so they'll end up at the correct place. It's 6:45am and it's down to the start line. Dawn is breaking and there's a beautiful deep red sky slowly lighting up from the east. Little did I realize, it'd be the last beautiful thing I see for a long time. A couple of pre-start photographs and then “GO” - we're off. I'm wearing the water belt containing a 20oz bottle of water, a small flask of organic natural maple syrup (as an instant sugar / carbohydrate fix), some Endurolytes, and a small ziploc bag of toilet paper (there are no portacans except at the start / finish line!). And in my hand is a second 20oz water bottle containing the Ensure / water mix.
We start off on the asphalt road up a slight incline for about 100 yards and then veer off to the left onto the trail. Everyone is slowly running, including me; even though my plan calls to walk the first part that's on asphalt; I'm carried away by the moment, but I think it'll probably have no overall impact! I quickly settle into my routine – walk the up-hills, run everything else – not that the hills are at all steep here, but nevertheless I know I'll need to walk, and besides there's plenty of time. We cross back over the park road and into the proper park trails. The rain from the previous week has mostly drained away, but there are spots on the trail that are very wet and muddy, and as the day progresses we know they'll only get more churned up.
Soon we're into the Dam Road aid station; it's not quite where I'd visualized it to be from the course map, but that's OK. I then realized my first significant mistake, the drop bags won't get to this road station until about 2½ hours after race start – I'd read it on the instructions, but never realized the implication. I grab some food from the aid station - pretzels and salted boiled potatoes, and off I go again. One of the more enjoyable parts of this sport is talking to everyone else who’s running, finding out where they're from and why they're doing the race. Of course I'd talk with my English accent, and everyone would ask me where I'm from... “Houston, Texas…” was my reply “…the far North East suburbs” which usually got a good laugh. Lots of interesting people...
Out to the Far Side aid station, I grab more food, turned around and back again. Shortly, I get hit with my first significant challenge as I feel twinges in my knee, which I know is my ITB playing up (click here for details). This is not new to me, but only the second time I've had it so very, very early in the race, after about 8 miles. I know the pain from ITBS can be excruciating and force people to drop from a race, so my best course of action is to manage the knee motion the best I can. I change running style and walk much more than I'd originally expected, and it all helped. Then I get the first hint that everything is not right with my feet either, as they are starting to feel uncomfortable, and I wonder whether maybe I'm wearing the wrong combination of socks and shoes. Back to the Dam Road, total time so far is about 1hr 50 minutes. I stop and take my shoes and socks off and clear out some sand particles around the heel – I'm surprised there's so much muck in there, but equally I'm sure that's not the root cause of the discomfort! I can't hang around waiting for the drop bag to arrive to change socks and shoes, so I eat some more boiled potatoes and pretzels, two aspirin as there's no Ibuprofen, and then I'm off again. I've now finished the Ensure I started with, and with no drop bag, it's onto the maple syrup which gets washed down with glugs of water. It's around this time I realize that my 10 hour goal is unlikely to be attained, and it's more likely to be around 12 hours. With the slugs of maple syrup and glugs of water I march on... As we cross the far side of the lake on the trestle walkway there's a photographer taking pictures – wave and smile for the Kodak moment! Soon, well, it's all relative, about 4hours after the start, one loop is complete. I change my socks, but not the shoes – they're in the other drop bag. I replenish my Ensure and also take a Sobe – which is a welcome change from straight maple syrup.
One third is done, but I know that was the easiest third. Now it's on to the second loop. The muddy spots are still there and if anything getting worse. About 3 miles into the loop my right foot starts to hurt around the toes each time I step onto it. I stop to take off the shoe and socks, and see nothing wrong; I slowly carry on to the Dam Road aid station. I find my drop bag, and sit down to have a good look at my right foot. The pain is on the underside of the second to end toe. It’s clear that there’s a blister – my second significant challenge. All the volunteers are so, so helpful “What do you want? What can we get you?” I ask if they have any new feet… umm no. So, out comes my blister kit, and I ask the medic to pop the blister to relieve the pressure. A wipe with an alcohol pad, cut with the scissors, squeeze out the fluid, and then I apply the antiseptic. She wraps the toe with a band-aid, then with surgical tape, and at my request covers the whole lot with duct tape so it’ll stick when I run – yes, yet another use for duct tape! This whole episode has taken too, too long – on with clean socks, change the shoes, a quick refuel of my bottles with Ensure, water and maple syrup, finish the can of Sobe, swallow a couple aspirins and Endurolytes – there’s a lot to remember to do! The volunteers put my drop bag away, and I’m off. Much, much better – there’s still a slight pain, but that soon diminishes, either masked by the aspirin, or else all the pressure really has been released.
Down to the Far Side, more pretzels, and turn around back to Dam Road. Somewhere along here is the half way point – yeehaw J. Much quicker through Dam Road this time, just eat, re-fuel, and move on. I am now doing a consistent fast walk with a long stride. I catch up with a couple from Waco and they have to run to keep up, which they do, and so we talk almost the whole way to the next aid station. Campsite 174 is where the local Houston trail running club is volunteering. As I enter this aid station Mariela is there giving out loads of encouragement and asks how’s it going and what do I want – “blisters and painful” is my reply. She gives me another Sobe and says I’m doing great. In fact everyone we pass, including the elite runners give each other so much encouragement there comes a point when it’s easier to believe them than doubt it. The support and encouragement that permeates between everyone involved in the sport is one of the wonders of ultra running - it really came alive for me on this day.
2.9 miles to go to get to the start finish line, and the end of the 2nd loop. As I quickly power walk onwards two girls seem to appear out of nowhere “Hi Richard” one says, all smiles. I’m totally confused - I’ve never seen them before in my life; surely I shouldn’t be hallucinating at this stage of the race, surely! “It’s me, Jill” she says. I’m still confused, that hasn’t helped at all; she repeats “It’s me, Jill, you know Leadfoot”. Ha, ha. Yes, now I know - the girl from the web based trail running forum who maintains the photos of the on-line trail runners. She asks whether this is my last loop – it isn’t L. Soon, however the second loop is complete and it’s taken just about 5 hours, so total time so far is about 9 hours. I phone Karen, to let her know there’s no need to rush back to the park for a potential 10 hour finish! I see text messages from each of my two daughters wishing me luck and saying they have confidence that I’ll finish; it’s a great boost J! I refuel myself, fill the water bottles, and change my socks. My feet are slowly getting worse, but the good news is that the ITB pain seems to have faded; it’s either masked by the feet, the aspirin, the natural endorphins, or some combination! Now it’s time to start the 3rd loop, as I think to myself this is all new un-chartered territory…
I’d divided the course into 10 “mental” sections, with the last 5 being between the aid stations on this last loop, so although ? of the distance was done, I’d pegged this point as being only halfway through the mental part of the race. Initially this was somewhat disappointing, but as I progress onwards to the Dam Road I realize I’ll soon be 60% of the way through mentally – this spurs me on. I pull into Dam Road and fill up with Ensure, drink down another Sobe, fill up my water bottles with Ensure and water, grab a couple of aspirin, boiled salted potatoes and pretzels. I estimate it may take another 1½ hours to go down the out and back, and as dusk is approaching, I also pick up my flashlight. Off again to the Far Side for the last time. As I approach this aid station people now have their flashlights on – red ones, green ones and white ones, some attached to the head and some handheld. I have a green handheld flashlight, with two settings - medium with 3 led bulbs and bright with 10 led bulbs. The concept is that the green light is supposedly easier on the eyes. A quick turn around at the Far Side, and the race is mentally 70% done, in theory. I catch up with the couple from Waco again, and we leapfrog most of the way back to Dam Road, but eventually they pull away from me for good. At Dam Road I have another Sobe drink, and top up with Ensure and water, and move on.
It’s now pitch black except for the glow of my flashlight and the occasional other lights, but there are very few. The croaks of the frogs are all around as I move past the river and the lake, it’s as if they’re laughing at me. All the night time practice trail runs I’d done had been very enjoyable, this was however very different; the need to concentrate on the trail to avoid the tree roots and rocks was very hard as I was so tired. Drinking the Sobe at the last aid station had turned out to be a mistake; it was just sitting at the bottom of my throat, neither going down nor up. My feet were hurting even more and I found myself slowing down; and as I started to feel the damp and coolness of the darkness, I realized I didn’t have my jacket to put on. At the last aid station, I’d forgotten the plan, which had called for me to switch from the running belt to the camel back to have extra clothes. This was my second significant mistake. This part of the run was undoubtedly the hardest and most challenging mentally; Mariela had warned that there’d be peaks and valleys, but it seemed to me at this stage there was just one valley after the other. As one thought after another went through my mind, I just repeated to myself “it’s just a valley, just another valley”. Eventually I reach the treasel bridge, which means only about another 1½ miles to Campsite 174. Soon I see a flashlight ahead, and there’s a volunteer warning people about an exceptional wet and muddy part of the trail – it’s so encouraging to see a person and hear a voice. Everything hurts still, but my mind is slowly emerging from the doldrums. Then it’s into Campsite 174. I’m offered some hot chicken noodle soup by German, I’m not sure I can swallow it as the Sobe is still stuck in my throat, but German says it’ll help. Well it does; as I leave for the final 2.9 miles, three dry upchucks, finally followed by what I’d needed for the last 4 miles – with an ugly retching sound, my throat cleared… ah, so, so much better. I move on, and as I cross a clearing in the trees I stop to look up, hoping to see the stars in the Texas night sky, unfortunately there are none.
I cross the finish line in 14 hours and 55 minutes, way, way longer than I’d ever imagined.
Karen came over to say congratulations; it was great seeing her there at the end J. I hobbled around to find how long it'd take before my drop bag would be returned from the Dam Road aid station. I was told about 2 hours. So I thought I'd go and have a shower, get my shoes and socks off, inspect the damage and clean up. Eventually the water ran warm and it felt so, so good – I found 4 blisters on one foot (including the one already fixed) and 2 on the other foot. No wonder it hurt to walk! As I got out of the shower and dried off, I almost fainted. Eventually I got dressed and out to the car; Karen drove me down to the finish tent so I could find a medic - something wasn't right. The medic diagnosed hyperthermia. Slowly my heart rate came down to normal range, and there I lay all wrapped up in a nice blanket in front of a heater drinking hot and delicious chicken and vegetable soup, and slowly warmed up. I told Karen never ever let me do one of these things again - she just smiled J.
After three hours I felt much better, just tired and of course the feet hurt! We collected the drop bag and Karen drove home; my dear sweet wife ended up driving about 250 miles that day all in all. We got home shortly before 3am in the morning, and as I climbed into bed having accomplished my goal which was to finish, and spend Saturday night in my own bed, all the pent up emotions came out!
Lessons Learned and Summary
· Remember there's a plan for a reason.
· Find a better combination of feet, socks and shoes.
· Read and understand the implications of all the race instructions on your race plan.
· Running from dusk into and through the night is a very different experience when tired.
· It's important to focus at the aid stations on what I'm supposed and need to do.
· Don't take a shower immediately unless your core body temperature is normal.
· As repeatedly experienced, when you need help, no amount of help is too small.
· The mental component of the run is no less significant than the physical part
I consumed just under 5000 calories via 4 Sobe drinks (100 calories each), 8 cans of Ensure (350 calories each), 6 ozs. of Maple syrup (780 calories), 1 can Pineapple/Orange juice (100 calories) and an estimated 600 calories in various other food stuff. In addition, I had numerous cups of chicken vegetable soup after the race.
Post Race
Sunday was a work day – work to get my feet in order so I could use them again. The blisters were all positioned so that I could pop each one in turn and apply the antiseptic cream on my own. Then it was back to bed to rest. The whole day was spent slowly walking between the kitchen to eat, the den to watch TV, and back to the bedroom to rest and sleep with as much time as possible letting the air get to the feet. Amazingly there was very little muscle ache. I also treated myself to a nice foot bath in Epsom salts, and I'm sure that helped. Monday saw me back in the office and, apart, from the very tender feet I felt great. I collected the pledge sheets for Texas Children’s Hospital and found there was about $1200 worth.
It's taken a week to do this write-up, which has given me the opportunity to reflect on the total experience. The brain works in a most wondrous way; I've been on a high all week and the memories of the pain are dimming away into the past. The most unexpected memory from the race will be the total dedication of the volunteers to help the runners, in most cases total strangers, in any way whatsoever, along with the camaraderie that existed between everyone. To see and experience this outpouring of unselfish behavior is, in its own right, worth doing the race. On a personal note, the ability to overcome all the physical and mental challenges, the pain and mistakes I made during the race, and to complete the goal was far more rewarding than I’d thought it would be. In many ways this is just a microsm of our ongoing lives – to set a goal, work towards achieving it, enjoy ourselves in the process, give back to the community, and to finally meet our objectives.
This was my first 50 miler, and I could never have achieved it on my own. Thanks go to the RockyRacoon volunteers, Mariela as my running mentor, my kids for their encouragement, my dear wife Karen for her ever continuing support, and to God for watching over me, in more ways than I know about, and even more than I have been able to write down.
As to my running future, despite my ranting and ravings on Saturday, other goals are hatching... HELP...
Richard Lynn