Some highs in a low spot. Badwater 2012.

A month or so late. Oh well.

So, one my highest highs started at the lowest of the lows.

I am of course talking about my Badwater, where I had many highs at low point, and then another high at a high point.

Earlier in the year, Meredith Murphy asked me to crew for her again. This would be my third year running at Badwater.  On the crew this year was the quiet, shy and reserved Mandy, fellow Team Awesome member Jessi and my new friend, Iliana. I had to think about it for a while. Well, until I realized the “chick to Jimbo” ratio including  Meredith was 4-1.

A strange thing happened on the way to Badwater. The plane to Vegas had onboard Wi-Fi. While Facebooking, up pops a friend request. It turns out that I was on the same plane as someone who was crewing for Ethel Cook who was on Meredith’s crew last year. Not only was Rosie on Ethel’s crew, remember this post? Rosie happened to be “Tumbling Rosie” – the woman who took a fall and hurt her nose. So there I am, enjoying a three way online chat with not only Rosie, but Tammy as well, who is also on Ethel’s crew and is on a different flight to Vegas. Technology is as amazing as the smallness of the running world. So that was actually a high point while high.

This year, Meredith had elected to do the crew differently – one crew, with one shift for the whole race. Personally, I think this is the way to go. Yeah, we get tired, very tired, but you tend to get into a rhythm, and I am sure that is better for the runner without having to deal with the crew shift changes. Downside though is how tiring it is – you can lose focus.

The lowest point in the western hemisphere is Badwater. I got a real high there when Meredith and about 29 other runners started their 135 mile journey. As a crew, we quickly got into a rhythm. Drive a mile or two, wait for a while. Offer food, fluids, spray downs and ice. And so it went.

Meredith and Ethel just before the start

Last year Meredith started having a pacer at Furnace Creek, mile 17. This year she she was trucking along just fine on her own until about 35-36 miles or so, when she started complaining of shortness of breath, and needed a break. It dawned on me after a few minutes that she was overheating. Ice in Ziploc bags did the trick and she cooled down quickly.  A couple of crew lessons here – the overheating can creep up on the runner quite quickly, Meredith had not wanted spraying with ice water other than on her arms for quite a while up to that point. I think that’s why she overheated. The lesson for me next time I crew is that I really should just spray anyway.

At that point, I started pacing, and would continue pacing to a couple of miles past the summit of Townes Pass. Now then, let’s talk about the climb up Townes Pass. [right then, if you do not like bad language, and swearing, just skip the next paragraph.

Yes, let’s talk Townes Pass. HOLY-MOTHER-FUCKING-SHIT, that climb is a fucking killer!

[swearing over for now] That climb is brutal. The wind is in your face, bone dry, hot, dusty and hot. The climb is relentless – over 16 miles, 5000 ft to the summit. The best description I have heard is that it is “soul-sucking”. To make matters worse, it doesn’t actually look like you are going up hill. it looks like you trudging along a flat road. But of course our calf muscles feel it, you notice the effort of going up hill. But it looks flat! It totally screws with your mind – until you look behind you and you can see the valley below. It is a very weird optical illusion. All you can do is LOL at the hill and say WTF. I can see why Meredith wanted me to experience that climb. It is tough, and it is that sort of thing that makes you realize just how tough Badwater is.

See how flat it looks? The beginning of the climb up Townes Pass

Most of the rest of the run was uneventful really. This year Meredith’s stomach stayed in check and she managed to keep plodding away. The landmarks came and went, Panamint, Poo-Point, Father Crowley’s, the 100 mile point and on into Lone Pine.

Sunrise at Poo-Point

But is it art?

Pavement art.

Meredith ideally wanted to beat last year’s time (46.22). A hard climb up Townes, plus some longer than planned stops after the 100 mile mark slowly made that hard to reach. Finishing under 48 hours though was never in doubt. By the time the climb up to Whitney Portals had started, we knew that last years time was going to be out of reach, but we would finish with about an hour to spare. So with a tiny bit of light showing in the eastern sky, we finished Badwater. 47:08. DFL never felt so good!

Love this shot! Our third sunrise on the road!


The finish line
Jessi, Mandy, Meredith, Jimbo and Iliana


Meredith looking like she had just finished a 5K!


Awwww This is not posed! Driving down the mountain, Iliana got this great picture of Jessi, Meredith and Mandy. After 3 sunrises though and a 135 mile journey, a quick power nap is perfectly reasonable.

So, my third Badwater crewing experience is in the books. Is there a Badwater run in my future? Hmmm. Had you asked me that after my first time crewing, I would have said “hell no!”

After my second year of crewing – I think my response would have “Doubt it, but you never know”

This year while on the road, I found myself thinking how I would do the race, and what I would differently, and what I would do the same. Some people would call that planning!

So, my upcoming move probably make logistics easier, and with perhaps another year or two of crewing under my belt (it really is a blast – tough work, but an absolute blast), some saving up – well, I think there could well be a Badwater in my future.

To all my friends in North Carolina and anyone else who wants to read it too–a personal announcement

This may or may not be the best way to announce this…………

Being as this is a running blog, I don’t often (if at all) talk about my work.

Without going into detail, I work for a great company selling stuff for a living. For the last several years, my sales territory has predominantly been in the Mountain and Pacific time zone.

A few weeks ago, I was offered the opportunity to live and work in my territory – after a trip out west with my wife, and some pondering, we have decided to move out to California.

Not exactly sure when, but we will probably go early in the new year. We are nervous and excited. And there is also some sadness. You see, since I started this ultra running thing in April 2009, the amount of people who I can truthfully call friends has grown exponentially, and I will truly miss so many people when we go. Especially you folks in the Mangum Track Club, you have no idea how much inspiration and motivation I draw from you all, and from the races you put on. I truly expect to make Hinson Lake an annual trip.

I am however excited about the potential of living in the foothills of the Sierras. About being within 30 minutes of the Western States Trail. About exploring new trails, new races and meeting new friends.

Oh, sure, with Facebook, the blogs and races from time to time, we will be keeping in touch, but for now, know that my life has been enriched just by knowing you folks, and that as we embark on our new adventure across the country, I will think of y’all often.

Cheers!

Jim

Badwater 135– Meredith’s Race Report

I crewed Badwater for the third time, and for the third time, I thoroughly enjoyed my time in the desert. For the second year running, I was on Meredith Murphy’s crew – she kindly let me copy and paste her race report for SoFarFromNormal. I will add my own thoughts in a different post another day.

It’s a good one. Enjoy!

---

Badwater 135, 2012 – Meredith Murphy

So, I finished my second Badwater ultra marathon. How can i even attempt to put the journey into words? From the start, this year was different than last year. I knew what i was getting myself into and that was probably the hardest part, i think some of my naivety the year before was good, ignorance truly is bliss. I also felt like there was more pressure on me. I did it once, now I had to prove it was not a fluke. Last year if I did not finish, I could just say, well, it IS one of the hardest races on earth, so I did my best. My training was so much better this year and my mileage was easily double what it was last year. I also decided to go with a four person crew instead of two crews of three. I also was better prepared on what I needed to buy food and supply wise. I was going with the same everything else from last year-- socks (Injinji), shoes (Hoka), clothes, taping, etc.

We arrived in Las Vegas early Friday morning and set off to procure our supplies. The first Walmart was pretty cleaned out of coolers after a heatwave, so it took a few different Walmarts over 2 days to get all our supplies, as well as a trip to a natural food store for the rest of my food. The other shock was that is was 80 and rainy when we arrived in Vegas, not quite the heat acclimation I was hoping for. On Saturday driving out to Death Valley, our thermometer read 73F while traveling through the Red Rock Canyons. I was very nervous that it would not be hot at Badwater or it would be really muggy, but only time would tell and in the end i had no control over it.

Prerace everything seemed to happen pretty fast and before I knew it, it was time to wake up for the big dance. I could barely sleep and woke up probably an hour before my alarm clock. I was all ready to go and antsy and ended up waking up my crew before their alarm. We got to watch the sunrise as we drove to Badwater Basin which is always spectacular. We arrived in good time and i weighed in, made the rounds seeing people and hit the bathroom. We did the official prerace pictures and headed up to the road for the start of the race. Last year i was beyond petrified at the start, but this year I felt good and not as nervous. I was still nervous, but not terrified.

And then we were off. I just followed my own pace, as I did last year, and let people go ahead down the road. I ran a little with Eric Gelber and just enjoyed the desert. I love this section of the race and the beauty is just unrivaled. I enjoy the 6am start especially since we get the shade of the mountain for about an hour and you get to watch the 8am and 10am runners drive by. It is great to get the waves, honks and cheers as they head to their race start.

I made it to Furnace Creek in good time and got my requisite ice pop. I continued on from there without a pacer. Last year I had a pacer from Furnace Creek to the finish, but this year, i was just enjoying the alone time and did not need one. The temps started to rise and it was a little irritating to hear from everyone along the course how "cool" it was, because yeah, it was not as hot as last year, but it is still hot and the sun is still strong! We saw the highest reading at 117F this year. I also was having so much fun. I do not think I ever had as much fun at a race as I did in the first 30-35 miles of Badwater this year.

I was doing really well with hydration and eating and just moving along at a good clip. I saw a crew car fly off the highway right ahead of me and it freaked me out. I was pissed that they did that and then pissed that the rubberneckers were driving dangerously as well around all the runners. The 8am runners started to catch me after a few hours past Furnace Creek and the closer I got to StovePipe Wells, the more 10am runners I saw as well. It is really neat to be up close to all the top runners and everyone is always so friendly. I just love the family that is the Badwater Ultramarathon. Almost every crew you pass cheers for you, sprays you with water, etc.

Towards Stove Pipe Wells, I started to feel a little short of breath and it continued to get worse. I was trying to keep distracted by the fighter jets I saw in the sky, but around mile 38 I just felt like I could not breath very well and headed over to the van. This was the point in the race last year that I started with tummy troubles and I was just not happy about having to admit i was not feeling great. Jim, who was also on my crew last year, immediately realized that I was overheating and my crew worked on cooling me down. I took ice packs and put them in my hat, bra and down my pants. Jim came out on the course and sprayed me down as he paced behind me. It felt like forever to get to the sand dunes, but it was just a couple miles. Once we hit them, it was a short 2 miles to Stove Pipe Wells, where I would get to use the bathroom and have some more ice pops and see my family.

I was just about at the same time as last year, a little past 11 hours, into Stove Pipe Wells and was feeling good about my pace and glad I was having no tummy issues yet, however, I dreaded the next section, the 16 mile climb up Towne Pass. Last year we had 30-40 mph headwinds that started around the sand dunes and lasted to the top of Towne Pass. Jim was going to pace me on this section and I really wanted him to experience this climb. The sun was also starting to set, but not fast enough. I was hot and just looking forward to the relief nightfall would bring. And then it started. The winds. And they were unrelenting and soul sucking and shockingly worse than last year, with gusts up to 50mph i am told.

It took forever to get up that climb. The craziest part about going up Towne Pass is that while going forward it looks like you are going flat or downhill, but you are really going uphill. It is such a mind teaser. But then it gets dark and I just needed to focus on one foot in front of the other. When I finally got to the top, i was so exhausted i needed to take a short nap before my descent. I felt rejuvenated after my cat nap and Jim started with me down the mountain towards Panamint. I was running a good clip, but after a few miles, decided to power walk as my quads were starting to burn up. My fast walk was still pretty darn fast and Jim had to jog a little to keep up. Iliana took over pacing duties on my way to Panamaint. I was a little slower into Panamint than last year, but I think that was due to the winds just being worse this year. There were no smoothies at the gas stations, but my crew got me a slushy which was almost as good.

Mandy paced me up this section and I felt great and felt a lot stronger than last year. Last year I also thought Father Crowley was the peak of the mountain, but this year knew it was not and that i had several more miles to go. It was still long once we got past Father Crowley. I also saw my second scorpion of the race, but this one was dead. It was great to spend this time with Mandy and we were really just had a good time hiking and chatting.

The next check point is Darwin at mile 90. I tried to take a short nap, but the nap was too short and i was probably only asleep a minute or two. I could have used about 5 more, but it was what it was. Jessi paced me on this section and as we were going down the road, we heard an awful sound, i was so scared at what was coming down the highway behind us and just was frozen there waiting for a monster of some sort. It was not a monster, but a very low flying jet plane!! it whipped right by us, super low, and then whipped around the mountain and out of sight.

It seemed like forever between mile 90 and 100, but eventually I made it and was once again really happy at how much stomach was holding up. Last year mile 100 was where it went downhill very fast for me. I started puking last year right at 100 miles and did not eat anything for the rest of the race. I did not want to jinx it, but i was glad to have beat that boogie man. We could see Mt Whitney for a long time, but this year was weird, there was no snow on the top of the mountain. It just really shows how weird the weather was this year. Heading towards Lone Pine I was feeling great and right past Keeler, I entered a few miles of a sandstorm. It was just horrible. It was just miles of sand whipping around and i felt like i was choking on the sand. I tried to cough some up and gagged and started to dry heave. I knew what was coming next. I hustled over to the van and Jim did not want me to sit, but i was like, outta my way!!! and i started to puke. However, i was not too upset over it. I knew it was not due to upset stomach, but just a freak thing with the sand. I felt fine and kept on going. A mile or two later i tried to eat a fruit cup and puked it right up, i do not even think it made it to my stomach! I decided I was fine to do the last 20 miles on no food, heck, i did 35 miles on no food last year.

My crew left Mandy and I heading to Lone Pine as they went real quick to grab some food in Lone Pine. The sun was going down on the second day and things started to get really weird really fast. With the setting sun, the desert plants along the road took on shapes of their own. I saw dinosaurs, mannequins, voluptuous women, polar bears, and so much more. Mandy, who was just as sleep deprived, was seeing stuff too. It was fun for about 10 minutes, then it was just really really annoying. The white line on the road was floating and looking like a pipe or a snake or something. It was totally alive. When the crew came back I knew I needed a nap to reset my brain. I also knew I had more than enough time to make it to the finish before the cutoff.

Jim took over pacing and once I made the turn into Lone Pine, I felt rejuvenated. i made it to the check point so fast, my crew was snoozing in the van. I just wanted to tackle the mountain. I know the people at the check point were a little concerned about me making it in time, but knowing how I felt last year vs this year, I had no concerns at all and knew it was just a matter of time before I crossed the finish line. It was a really good feeling and I could smell the barn, so to speak.

I love getting into Lone Pine in the dark because you can see the trail of cars up the mountain. (though i will admit, it would be nice to finish in the daylight!) It is a sight to behold for sure. Last year, I was dragging so much at this point that my first mile up Mt Whitney was 36 or 38 minutes long. This year, I had none of that and really enjoyed my climb up the mountain for the most part. And I started to get really hungry. I ate some bread and then a few miles later I tossed the bread aside for some Milano cookies. After a few miles, Jessi took over for a few miles and then with 6 or 7 to go, Mandy took over for the final haul. I forgot how steep that section was towards the end but i felt a million times better than last year. Also, there were a lot of runners on the mountain this year when last year we saw none. I liked the company.

After roasting in the desert for two days, i was cold and had a sweatshirt on. Rumor was it was 45F up at the finish line. I would get hot going up the steeper climbs, but we were definitely not in Death Valley!! The altitude was hard on me again this year, being a flat lander, but Mandy and I just kept trudging forward and I huffed and puffed. She had her iPod playing some Cure for us and we had a good, quiet time. Finally we told the crew to meet us at the finish as we knew we were getting close. We were almost there, smelling the pines and listening to the water, when we took a slight turn towards what we thought was the finish line. There were all these people, a canopy and lights. It really looked liked the finish line. But a park ranger told us it was not, it was a camping area. He offered to drive us to the finish, but we said no thank you and turned around. Luckily, he drove up to the finish to tell them that we were lost and a race official came down to find us. At this point, we were questioning if we were going the right away or not. Mandy felt bad, but it was an honest mistake and we both thought it was the right way to go. We were both very sleep deprived and it really did look like the finish down there!

FINALLY we saw our crew and I knew we were close. We crossed the finish line and Chris Kostman the RD told me that i woke him up from his nap and he only napped 5 minutes. I told him if i had not gotten lost, he would have gotten no nap at all. I finished in 47:08 and was the final female finisher and it turns out, the final finisher. I was told if it was the Comrades marathon, that i would have been more popular than the first place finisher, but alas, it was not. I was so happy to get my buckle, medal, and finisher's shirt and celebrate with my crew at the finish line. I had such a great race compared to last year that it is unfortunate that my finish time did not reflect how well my race went. My crew was not as efficient as last year with the crew stops, but my main goal was to finish and we did and I am really happy with that. If my family and Chris Kostman will let me come back, you know I will be back to Death Valley and Badwater. I love my desert family and I love the Badwater Ultramarathon. Why? I cannot exactly say, but I love everything about it, well, everything maybe except Towne Pass!!! I was happy that my stomach held up, i was happy with my climb up Mt Whitney and i was happy my feet were in great shape again this year in a race that is historically malicious to runner's feet. Words can not describe what it feels like to cross that finish line and finish Badwater. I can only hope I can do it again one day.

Jessi, Mandy, Meredith, Jimbo, Iliana

The 3 Peaks Challenge

The last time I was in England was 7 years ago, March 2005. Now that trip was pretty significant in my running career (career? WTF??). It was my first ever organized run/race. The 2005 Reading Half Marathon. My time was around 2:27 or something. I thought I was going to become a statistic somewhere around the 9 mile mark, by 11 miles, I was even closer to death. But I did make it. And of course I cried my eyes out as I crossed the finish line.

It was to be my first and last race. One and done. The end. That was the plan anyway. LOL.

Fast forward to July 2012. A vacation, an opportunity to catch up with family and friends. And find some mountains.

After a brief discussion, “The 3 Peaks Challenge” in the Yorkshire Dales seemed to be a good plan. A 25 mile loop, somewhere between 5,000 and 6,000 feet of elevation gain.

How hard could it be? My sister, Abby would navigate, well, because she can, and also because she had done the route before, all I had to do was follow.

Seriously, how hard could it be? Well, first there is the unpredictable nature of the English weather. Then there is the bogs. Peat bogs. Shoe sucking cold peat bogs. Then there is the fact that some of the climbing almost certainly crosses that line between hiking and mountaineering. You see, when you need hands to assist in the hike, that becomes mountaineering. Then there is the fact that I am pathetic at descents. Sure, the nicely groomed trails we mainly encounter in the US – any fool can fly down them. But the steep rock strewn, slippery descents of the Penines – well my fear of heights kicked in. Or was it the fear of slipping on a lime stone rock and cracking my skull and dying a gruesome death and having my body mauled by the man-eating-sheep that occupy the hillsides. Probably.

One of the ferocious creatures just waiting for me to slip and fall.

And here is another one.

The three peaks – Pen-y-ghent, Whernside and Ingleborough. Not sure which was the toughest – they all had their moments. The climb up Pen-Y-Ghent wasn’t too bad. The approach to the summit a steep rocky climb. The descent was mainly manageable until we hit the bogs. That was tough terrain to keep moving on. Also, there were few landmarks, and no clearly marked trail (it was a bog, durr), so navigation became something that we needed to be aware of. Abby did great though and got us back to some kind of civilization. Before the climb up Whernside………..

Peat bogs – one of the reasons they call it a challenge!

After the bog crossing, there is a fairly long, comparatively easy hike, past the spectacular viaduct at Ribblesdale before beginning the ascent of Peak #2, Whenside. This was probably my favorite part of the journey, a good climb, with nice footing. The kind of climb that you can get a rhythm going, with wonderful views of the other two peaks.

The Viaduct


Waterfall on the way up Whernside

The hill on the right is Ingleborough in the background on the left
is Pen-Y-Ghent


Pen-Y-Ghent in the middle

The descent from Whernside was steep, rocky and for me, it was terrifying. But we lived to start the third peak, Ingleborough. Which was when it started raining. Sigh.

Most of the climb up Ingleborough was fine, but there is this one part fairly close to the summit that was brutal. I hated it when I was climbing it, but once done, it was one of those that gave immense satisfaction at having completed it. It was pretty much near vertical – maybe 200 or 300 vertical feet with probably less than a tenth of a mile forward motion. Fun

At the top, there are the foundations of iron age buildings – apparently the climate used to be warmer in those days, but on this particular day, with the mist and the cold, we looked briefly, but couldn’t find them in the clouds.

The summit of Ingleborough

After the summit – an uneventful drop down to where we started 10:42 earlier.

Done.  And with Pen-Y-Ghent in the background. We climbed up the Right hand side

Now, here are some more pictures – pictures of buildings:

The drystone walls and some of the old barns pepper the countryside which probably
hasn’t changed that much in 100’s of years

The sign above the door said this house was built in 1687.
Probably time to get a new one then. With bigger windows.

More pictures. Not pictures of buildings:


The climb up Pen-Y-Ghent






Abby’s way of keeping her socks dry.


Bog. And Pen-Y-Ghent

There was not just killer sheep to contend with

I  think this is Whernside in the distance

 
A limestone pavement towards the end of the walk

The Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie. Well, half-Boogie, but solo.

I have talked about the Boogie before, and how important it is to me not to bollox it up. I have bolloxed it up before, and I don’t want to bollox it up again.

This is another one about how execution can make or break (bollox) the boogie. The stories about the heat, the hills, the pigeon sized deer fly, the snakes, drunk rednecks are all well documented, and the race waiver is still one of the best out there.

This year I was adding a a new dimension to my race. I was going to run it solo.

I was horrified to learn that I would be traveling for work on Boogie day! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! At May Madness, though, I talked to Doug “The Boogieman”, and asked him about the possibility of starting the race early. A week early. I also asked, if I could downgrade from the Full-Boogie (50 miles) to the Baby-Boogie (26.2). Doug very kindly agreed, and said he would recognize my finish and  record my finish time with an asterisk for the early start.

Of course I wasn’t going to be totally alone. Lady Sarah the UltraPup (who recovered within a day of Chatooga) was going to pace me again.

My plan was to start exactly 6pm, a week early. When I left Sanford the weather was true Boogie weather. The thermometer in my car read 92^oF, and it was nice and humid. However, the temperature plummeted in the 75 minute drive to Bethel Hill Church, to a mere 84^oF. WTF? This is very-unBoogie like. Oh well, cooler weather wouldn’t be a bad thing. On the way to the start, I hid a cooler at the Dog Pen which would serve as my mini aid station. My truck would be the “main aid station” at the start of each loop.

The course is basically a lollipop. A 6 mile loop, then a 4 mile out and back (down Bethel Hill then another 1/2 mile to a turn around and back). So, the marathon, is two full laps, plus the 6 mile loop. For the 0.2 , at the start you run a very short 0.1 mile out and a 0.1 mile back.

At 6pm on the nose, I started my 0.1 out, and just as I was wrapping up the 0.1 mile back, a car pulled into the church parking lot. It was Merrie, Doug’s wife who was going to keep me company for the first 6 miles! Wonderful, then I would only have 20 miles on my own. I have seen Merrie at the occasional race, but had never met her before. Somewhere between 1.5 miles and 2 miles, Doug also joined us. And he would stick with me for a full loop. The pace was as easy as the conversation. As promised, Merrie went home after 6 miles. Doug stuck with me down the out and back and back to his car. So basically I had company for the first 12 miles or so. That really helped. When we got back to his car, Doug very kindly offered me a beer. We chatted for a few minutes while enjoying the beverage, then I carried on the run.

This was right around dusk. It didn’t take long for the loneliness to kick in – about as quick as the darkness engulfed Lady Sarah and I. I made sure we were both lit up like Christmas trees, I had flashing red lights on my back, a head light, and Sarah had her flashing red and reflective collar on.

This was also when the head games started. Seriously – everything seriously screwed with my head! Every crack in the pavement became a rattle snake or a copperhead. Every noise in the woods was a pole cat, even the lightning bugs when they first fired up became the flashlights of stalkers in the woods, (later on though – the lightshow they gave me was incredibly impressive), and every pair of headlamps became a drunk redneck ready to throw beer cans and run us off the road.

Of course none of that was the case. Every car gave us a wide berth, the noises in the woods were probably rabbits (coulda been pole cats though, who knows?), and the cracks in the pavement, were just cracks in the pavement.

The mind games and the loneliness really just made me want to get it done, it was actually pretty scary despite the fact that there really was nothing to be scared about. I picked the pace up quite a bit once I was on my own (or maybe it was the beer), and even more so for the last 6 miles.

Sarah of course was simply awesome as always, and had a perfect rhythm going, and was probably the only thing that kept me from completely going nuts. I know that if there really was a polecat stalking us, she would of course alert me. I think. Probably. Hopefully, anyway.

So with nobody at the finish, I just stopped my watch, and wandered over to the truck, sat down, had a beer and celebrated my 4th Boogie (and 3rd finish).

Thank you Doug for letting me take part in one of my absolute favorite races, even though work got in the way

Boogie done. Not Bolloxed.

Chatooga 50k Executed

Chatooga 50k is a tough run that is all about the execution. If you manage things well, then the race will go well for you. (However you define “well” of course).

It seems that like many ultras, this one is totally capable of biting you in the ass. Quick summary of the course: 3.5 miles down (drop a 1000’ or so), 3.5 miles back up. Aid station. Then 10 miles without aid, rolling hills, quite a few of these miles by the Chatooga River (apparently, ‘Deliverance’ was filmed there). The trail is rocky with several roots, pretty technical. After 10 miles, the next aid station, followed by 2 miles out (mainly down), 2 miles back (mainly up – strangely), then back the way you came for 10 miles to the finish.

So, here is how I think you can screw this thing up. The first 3.5 miles, this is where you can start to bollox things up. It is fairly easy running, all down hill – none of it really steep though. You can really push the pace. You can get to the bottom of the trail, and feel great – so great that when you turn around at the bottom, with visions of perhaps a PR in mind, you start to climb back up the hill. If you really want to fuck things up, then you run it hard. So, the end result of the first 7 miles, the beginnings of southern fried quads with a side of trashed calf muscles. Add a touch of dehydration into the mix, and you have the potential for disaster. Now you have 10 miles to go with no way to refuel, and you can only rehydrate with what you can carry (supplemented by Chatooga-Mineral-Water), the heat picks up, by the time you get to the aid station at 17 miles or so, you are totally bolloxed. This is essentially what I did last year – sure I finished, but the last 5 miles were pretty bloody miserable – it was a pretty spectacular meltdown).

This year, not so. I have learned a lot about “trail miles”, and “mountain trail miles”, so I knew just how slow it could be, I had course knowledge. Also, this year, I had a wonderful pacer for the whole race – Lady Sarah The UltraPup. I left Wilbur at home this time, his paws were a little sore from running in sand at the May Madness 50K, plus there was not going to be nearly as much down time for him to cool off during this race. So just Sarah and I. And she truly was awesome.

So, running down the hill at the start, I felt myself going just a little faster than I wanted, I stood to the side of the trail and let everyone pass me by. I learned as I headed back up after the turnaround that I wasn’t quite DFL, but close, there was just one other person behind me and a couple who started 15 minutes late. I wasn’t bothered in the slightest. I was executing well.

At the aid station, the volunteers were simply wonderful. They pampered Sarah, offered her snacks and a bowl of water, which she gratefully accepted, they didn’t leave me to fend form myself either, they filled my bottle, fed me to get me ready for the next 10 mile stretch. Here is the trick here. Slam a couple of Gatorades while waiting, eat something (even though hunger is not yet an issue, fill up a water bottle, and make sure the hydration bladder is filled up, and you will get through the next 3 hours or so without aid. Again, this stretch is all about taking it easy. Dehydration can easily become a factor if the effort levels get too high. The aid station at 17 miles is such a wonderful sight when you eventually get there.

In my case, I felt very good at this point. Sarah was trotting along as graceful as she always is. But it was only just over the halfway point. The next 4 miles were uneventful, and to be honest fairly easy after the last 10 miles stretch. I enjoyed hanging out with Susan and Cliff. Turns out Susan and I have run many of the same races – I remember her from Javelina, and more recently from a brief conversation we had while I was pacing at Miwok a couple of weeks earlier. It the relative smallness of the UltraWorld always surprises me. You enjoy a few minutes chat with someone on the West Coast, and see them at a small race in the South.

After the 4 mile out and back,  back at the aid station, it is time to get ready for the 10 mile stretch back to the finish. Again both Sarah and I were pampered. After filling everything up, snacking up, it was time to head out for the last unaided 10 miles. This is where all my earlier caution paid off, I still felt good, even though the heat had picked up some. This is where I slowly move up the field (not that I really give a crap about exactly where I finish), but it was good to feel strong, knowing that it as because of all of my earlier decisions. Certainly there was a reasonable amount of carnage, that I passed!

 

One thing I noticed – Sarah is a bit of a racer. 99% of the time when we were running, she ran at whatever pace I was running at. Never pulling on the leash. That 1% of the time though, that was when she could sniff that someone was ahead of us. She pulled a bit at the leash, would get a bit of a serious look and put her head down. Oh, she absolutely wanted to go faster. Once we had gone past, she would relax.

At 28 miles, Sarah was in virgin territory. She had run 26.2 a couple of times, 27.43 at the NC Fat Ass, and 45k at May Madness. She took every opportunity to have drink when we crossed streams or passed the river. She was running a smart race too

With three miles to go, you turn away from the river, and basically have a very gentle climb to the end of the trail. I was beginning to tire at this point – but hey, it’s a 5k, and any fool can run a 5k.

The road, and the place where the aid station was situated at 7 miles, signals the end of the 10 mile solo stretch and is the sign that you are about 1/2 mile from the finish.

Just before the line, I let Sarah’s leash go and let her sprint to the finish. She truly looked as fresh as when she had started.

Mind you, as soon as she got in the truck to head home, she was out like a light!

I would like to put a shout out to Terri Hayes, this is a wonderful race which is just funded with donations, terrific scenery, definitely challenging and staffed with wonderful volunteers.

It's madness I tells ya, madness

 

May Madness 50k

The brainchild of Doug “The Boogieman” Dawkins. Simple in concept, but the execution….. ugh!

Basically, the principle was 10 x 5k’s each 5k starts on the hour every hour. The times in each 5k are added and your accumulative time is your time for the 50k

You see, run it fast, you get a nice rest, and an opportunity to cool down. Run it slow, and perhaps you don’t overheat in the first place. Being as I knew I was never going to win (WTF? LOL! – No shit Sherlock), I elected to take something between the two. So an easy 5k, and aim for around 15-20 minute break.

The ultra-puppies came along for a run, so I obviously didn’t want those guys to overheat, but at the same time, I wanted them to cool off between loops,

The challenge of this was two-fold, the heat, and the course. It was going to be in the 90’s, and the course – oh my, the course. Sand. In some places, ankle deep. Not real hilly (although the small inclines that were there really did get steeper each loop). The lack of meaningful shade added to the difficulty.

But I liked it!

I have said before, that I like small loop ultras, you get to hang out with friends – some faster than me, some slower. And in this one, you also get to hang out with the REALLY fast people during the rests between loops.

Jimbo, Tim, and the Ultra-Puppies early on

So, I liked the format, and being honest, I liked my approach. I did see some carnage – mainly caused by overheating. My approach to remaining cool was to dress in Badwater gear – long sleeve white shirt and desert hat. Wilbur’s approach to remaining cool involved sitting in a tub of water. Sarah’s approach was to sleep in the shade under the car

Cooling off between laps

The 8th lap – Wilbur wanted to stop under the shade a couple of times. My rule when I run with the pups is that they must set the pace – especially in the heat. I made the decision to sit them out for the 9th lap, and I ran it on my own.

We did all come together for the “glory lap though”.  We walked the whole lap, and I came in DFL (YAY!!) for that last 5k.

So, final thoughts? I enjoyed the run – the format was challenging mentally, but once I locked it into my head that it was a 50k with extra long aid stops, rather than 10 x 5k’s it was not too bad to wrap my head around.

Here’s a thought – if somebody was particularly evil, they would come up with a similar concept for  a race, but perhaps reduce the time allowed for each lap by, ooooh, say a minute for a 1.6 mile trail loop in August………….