Meandering Thoughts
of a Wandering Strider
It
has been a while since I have written anything about my adventures. It also has been a while since I have
had success in running a 100-mile race.
I tried to run the Mohican 100 in Ohio last summer, but was forced to
withdraw early due to a swollen right knee. Very disappointing, but in hindsight, it was probably a good
thing to do. Attempting to
continue could have put me on the shelf for a very long time. So I was very amped to be trying to
complete another 100-mile run.
Running
100 miles, for me, has been a mostly warm weather test. But running 100 miles in cold weather
turned out to be a different animal or beast in this case, the Beast of Burden
100/50-mile races. The race is
held in Lockport, NY, which is located about 5 miles east of Buffalo. I left on Friday morning with the ride
there taking about 8 hours and I arrived early enough to be able to get plenty
of rest, especially since the race did not start until 10 am on Saturday. Since I did not really know what to
expect as far as weather, I brought pretty much all of my cold weather gear and
two gym bags to divide it equally into.
The
racecourse is run entirely alongside the Erie Canal, on a loop course. There are three aid stations, one on
each end of the course and another at about the halfway mark. It is 12.5 miles out and 12.5 back,
meaning that as a 100-mile runner, I had to do the loop 4 times. I would be leaving one of the gym
bags at the start/finish and sending the other bag out to the turn around
site. The forecast called for
temperatures in the low 20’s during the day and single digits overnight. So each bag had multiple winter shirts,
running jackets, clean socks, shorts and even wind-briefs. Piling everything up on the couch in my
hotel room Friday night, I wondered if I would even need most of the gear that
was in each bag.
Sleeping
the night before one of these races has always been a trial for me, with my
mind going over everything that might happen once the race starts. This time was different; possibly
because of the starting time being later in the morning. I slept pretty good, sleeping until
about 7 am, leaving me plenty of time to get dressed and put everything into
the car for the short trip to the starting line. I have been trying a new way of consuming my daily food,
eating only for 8-hours during the day and fasting for 16-hours. In order to eat with my wife in the
evenings, I do not eat until 10 am most everyday and have my last caloric intake
sometime around 6 pm. This is
supposed to help train the body to process fat better and prevent getting
things such as diabetes, heart disease and even cancer. I am not sure about the prevention part
and I do know that it can be a trial sometimes, mostly in the morning, but one
thing I have noticed is that I have been losing weight at a greater rate than I
normally do while training for something like this. So one of the things on Saturday morning that I had to do
was make two peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches that I could take with
me so that I could eat one when we started.
Pulling
into a parking space just before 9 am, I took in the misleading bright sunshine
and hoping that it planned on sticking around for the better part of the
day. Temperatures were about 10°F with a light wind out of
the north. People were milling
around the tent that was set up next to the restrooms, with volunteers waiting
for runners to sign in, get their numbers and receive the swag that they get
just for signing up. Once most
runners got their numbers, they disappeared back into their vehicles to absorb
the warmth provided by their car heaters in anticipation of the cold times
ahead. Of course, this is also
what I did. I had my last minute
gear to put on and then I took my bags from the truck, depositing one in the
tent and the other one into the open trunk of a car for transport to the far
aid station. Then it was back into
my truck for about 15 minutes of warmth.
The
50-miler and the 100-miler both start at the same time. I was told that that approximately 130
people were at the start for both races.
We started on the south side of the canal, headed west for about 1 mile,
crossed a bridge over the canal and headed east along side the canal on the tow
path. Description of the course:
FLAT! There is some very gentle
undulations along the course, but it does not make any difference in the
altitude gain or loss. There was
about 3” of snow on the path, most of which was smoothed out by snowmobilers
who were illegally driving their machines on the path. For us runners, it help out quite a
bit, smoothing out the irregular surface left by cross-country skis and
footprints left by people walking themselves or their dogs on the path.
I
started out toward the back of the pack, figuring that the 50-mile people would
be running at a quicker pace than what I would be. Turns out that I was wrong, as I ran with a couple of
50-milers for quite a bit of the first loop. My pace actually quickened, which was commented on by one of
the guys, Ed, who was running the 50 as a way of getting in a marathon in New
York (this was to be his 31st state to run a marathon in). He was wondering if I planned on
running the whole 100 miles at the pace we were going. My reply was that it was a beautiful
day, I love to run and I was just enjoying the opportunity to do so, but that I
would most likely be slowing down later on.
The
aid stations and the volunteers that were working them were fantastic. Although in hindsight I spent way too
much time in each one, the helpfulness of the volunteers, the food that was
available and, dare I say it, the warmth that washed over us once inside, made
for good reasons to tarry a bit each time. I probably could have cut off well over an hour from my time
if I had shortened my stays to five minutes instead of the 15 or so at each
turnaround and the 10 minutes or so at the middle station. But the race volunteers and all those
people who work very hard to put this race on did a fantastic job to ensure
that the runners would safely be able to circumvent the distance. Entering each aid station, the first
thing I reached for was a cup of Mountain Dew. I do not normally drink soda (at all), but during a race
like this, the caffeine and the sugar work in tandem with the solid foods that
I also ingested to allow me to continue to run. Next, it was one half of a PB&J, a cup or two of chicken
broth, chicken noodle soup or lentil soup, water and a cup of HEED (replacement
drink). At the far turn around,
they were also able to provide dill pickles! Love it! Later
on, they all provided hot grilled cheese sandwiches and pizza. I decided not to attempt the pizza, but
everything else worked out great.
All the while I was absorbing the warmth provided by the heavy-duty
heaters and the volunteers concern for my and every other runner’s well
being.
The
first loop was my best and worst of the four. I ran the whole thing, stopping only at the aid
stations. I had worn two
polypropylene shirts, with a Camel Back designed to sit next to the skin
outside the first shirt (can’t have the water freeze up-it worked great), a
light wind jacket, a dickie, hat, shorts, wind briefs, tights, light pair of
gloves and a pair of Gore-Tex mittens with hand warmers stuffed into them. The major problem that I had on the
first loop was that the tights were not heavy enough to prevent the muscles in
my legs from getting tight and sore.
I also realized that I would not be able to sustain running the entire
loop each time, so I had to consider working in walk breaks. I completed the first loop of 25-miles
in about 4 ½ hours, which if I could have sustained that would give me a PR for
the distance. I did not even
contemplate that at the time, knowing how I was feeling after the first 25
miles.
The
race officials insist that each runner take his or her headlamp with them when
they start their second loop and that they have a full-face ski mask to lessen
the chance of getting frostbite in the cold. I wore a different Camel Back pack without the bladder on
the outside of my coat, which held my headlamps, Gu packets, extra batteries
for the headlamps, cell phone and my camera (only for a little while). I changed my shirts at the start/finish
turnaround, but kept the same jacket since it was still daylight (we lost the
bright sunshine early in the day, with it making brief appearances over the
course of the day) and I was comfortable.
I also put on a pair of wind pants over the tights (what an incredible
difference, making the difference between finishing comfortably and finishing
in pain). Off I went on the second
loop, running between bridges or running between mile markers and then walking
for two minutes. The 50-milers
that I had been running with fell back (very surprised about that) and from this
point until the end, I ran pretty much by myself. I wore sunglasses during the day with no problems and by the
time I reached the turnaround, the darkness was beginning to creep in,
necessitating a change to clear-lens glasses. I also exchanged the light jacket for a jacket with a liner
and put on the full-faced mask as the temperature was dropping and my face felt
uncomfortable at times. The best
part of this turnaround was the full moon that was rising with the coming
night. If you have never had the
pleasure of running trails during a full moon, try it someday. There is something so primal and
enchanting about running in the full moon light, even on a groomed trail such
as the towpath, away from the lights of the cities and towns.
I
never removed my headlamp from my backpack, preferring to run just by the
moonlight. Clouds moved in during
the night, but there was so much light provided by the moon that the clouds did
not diminish it much. It got
irritating meeting other runners coming from the other direction who did not
share my enjoyment of the night and were using their sometimes (painfully)
bright lights to see the trail. But
the number of runners was not that great and was diminishing as the night wore
on. As I worked my way toward the
end of the second loop, I passed a lady who was running the 50-miler and in
turn, the lead runner in the 100-miler, who was completing his third loop,
passed me! He looked like it was a
run around the block, not showing any kind of strain from maintaining his
pace. I let the lady whom I had
passed go in front of me and hung back to allow her to get due recognition for
completing the fifty. Once I got
in, I changed shirts again, dawdled over the food and drink, got warm and then
headed back out. About halfway
down to the bridge, I was once again passed by the lead runner, who commented
that he was stiff from sitting. He
took the time to sit, spending more time in the tent than I did and even with
that, he still ended up finishing in record time!
My
third and fourth loops were much the same as the second loop. It became easier to walk and to extend
the walks, so on the fourth loop, I concentrated on keeping the walking period
to two minutes or less, especially on the return. I was looking forward to finishing. Going into the turnaround, there was a
noticeable light on the horizon and starting back to the finish from the
turnaround, the sky was beginning to lighten all over. By now I was wearing my heaviest jacket
and had changed into the last two dry shirts that I had left. Surprisingly, I had had no desire nor
any need to change my shoes or socks.
The trail through the snow was very well marked, with everyone pretty
much staying to the same path through the snow. Even though I was anxious to be done, that still did not
force me to move any quicker through the middle aid station when I came to
it. Everything had worked so well
up to this point that I did not want to vary the routine, afraid that I would
bonk trying to finish well.
Completing each loop was difficult as you could see the tent on the
other side of the canal, but you still had to run approximately one mile to the
bridge to cross to that side and then run back to the tent. The last time was especially difficult,
with me looking at the ice covering the canal and wondering if I could scramble
down the side, if the ice would hold me and if I would be able to make my way
to the top of the embankment to cut off the final 2 miles. But I kept on chugging, finishing my
run in 23 hours, 24 minutes, and completing my goal of finishing in less than
24 hours.
Normally
the story would end here, after receiving my well-earned belt buckle from the
race director. But unfortunately,
this one does not. I returned to
my hotel after stopping off to get some well-deserved beer and picking up a
pizza that I was longing for, hopped into (okay, I gingerly stepped into) the
tub to wash off the accumulated salt from my body so that I could take a shower
without screaming in pain (chaffing is such a nasty thing). Before I could take that shower, my
body decided that enough was enough and I barely made it to the bed, where I
slept for 3 ½ hours, tried to get up and fell back into bed for another hour,
at which time I was able to start moving around, eat some pizza, sip some beer
and climb into the shower. I
stayed the night and left about 7 am on Monday morning. About 2” of snow fell overnight and the
roads were slushy, but not bad. I
felt good, stopping about every hour and a half to two hours to move around,
but the weather continued to be crappy.
I entered Massachusetts on the Mass Pike, still traveling well, but I
made one mistake: I had shut off the 4-wheel drive to save money on gas. On an uphill in the Berkshires, the
truck hit a slick spot (probably ice, not sure), fishtailed a bit and headed
straight for a bridge abutment, hitting it head on, catching a dry spot and
flipping the truck on its’ side, sliding to a stop facing traffic. No injury for me, but the truck was
totaled. Beating myself up has
been my favorite pastime this week, but there is no changing what
happened.
So
an awesome high in finishing the 100-miler within my goal (I do not believe
that I will be doing anything in the cold like that again) and a below the belt
low in losing my truck. My wife
has told me that there will be no more adventures for me, although she needs to
realize that the accident with the truck could have happened at anytime. I guess I will have to work on her, although
I probably will not be doing anything for a bit anyway.
