5K Marauders

Zane Grey 50 through the eyes of EW.

So when a bike fell off the back of the vehicle at full speed on the freeway and after flailing a bit collapses on the ground in a heap, we probably should have recognized this as an omen for the next day ahead at the Zane Grey 50 (51) miler. . .

Met at Jason’s house the afternoon before and after a quick inspection of the bike, we were on our way. Jason and I were registered for the full race, with Jon and Jim slated to act as our pacers for miles 33-51. Jon mentioned that Jason and I were quieter than normal than normal, and speaking for us both, probably were spending more time than usual thinking about the race day ahead, but the drive to Payson was fairly uneventful. Check in at the motel found us slotted into queen rooms, but even I wasn’t in the mood to cuddle that close so we chose the upgrade to the “deluxe” queen . . . with a view of the hot tub!

Small packet pickup was smooth and easy, and right across the Beeline Hwy from our dinner choice, La Sierra. Crazy feeling to be eating at a Mexican joint and not eat any salsa, but the beans and tortillas were tasty. And conversation interesting . . . "Eyebrow shaving in order - 84184 - never mind"

For a race night, I actually slept pretty darn well . . . even being asleep at the time the alarm went off at 3:30AM. I figured that’d give up plenty of time to not need to rush and still be on the road by 4:00AM, but before we knew it, Jim was telling us it was 4:15 and needed to get going. The start line is about 30 minutes north on the Beeline and with a quick stop at Circle K for water, we pulled in to the Pine Trailhead at around 4:45. Cutting it a bit close, but with the advantage of having very little time to get chilly (although in the low 50s, not much problem there) or nervous before race start at 5:00. Quick check in, drop bag checks, and 1 port a potty stop, we had just about 60 seconds left on the clock and we were off for the start of what became a long and memorable day. Fortunately, I had gotten down a banana and a sandwich back at the motel.

And we’re off . . . It’s still dark out, but it seems like Jason and I are positioned on the single track about 2/3 of the way back in the group. A bit of cautious running at the beginning before hitting a pretty significant and sustained climb about 1 mile from the start. Cool views of the runners both ahead and behind – envision long lines of headlamps snaking up and down trail. It’s a good place in the race for a climb as anything fast paced in the dark would be pretty treacherous both from a safety and making a wrong turn standpoint. Even so, we encountered a pretty decent sized group before too long coming downhill who had made an unplanned detour. This was the first of the times that Jason and I got split up. While somewhat unspoken between us, my plan was to ideally stay together as long as we could, unless one of us clearly ended up at a different pace than the other or was injured. At sun up, and through the first 6 miles or so I was a bit ahead of Jason in the “conga line” heading up hill, but could always sneak glimpses of him not far behind on switchbacks. As usual, ultra runners tend to be pretty talkative and had interesting conversations (Alaska, Sedona, Grand Canyon, etc) with a few different runners along this stretch. Sun up brought quite a bit of natural beauty as well with healthy looking trees and (while we knew it would make it tough later) clear skies.

I rolled into the beautiful first aid station and mile 7 and was immediately helped by someone to refill my 50oz camelbak and I also grabbed a few bites to eat and I think a salt cap. I hadn’t done much running with the camelback, but was planning to keep this on for the duration, with a play to add a 20 oz water belt at mile 17 and swap it out for a 24 oz water bottle at 33. The camelback turned out OK, but especially compared with Jason’s pack (Nathan), it was a pain in the butt to refill quickly and easily. The Nathan was also nice having pockets on the front which are easier to access goods. I did recall to pop a gu at around mile 11. While I had given hydration some thought, and carried salt caps along, I didn’t give nutrition much thought – as in the past I was always pretty successful just eating whatever was on each table when I reached aid – so while I did have a few things in my pack at miles 17 and 33, I wasn’t even sure if I’d eat them. Jason hit the aid station less than a minute later and we were out again within a few minutes. We were both in good spirits at this point.

I don’t recall much of this stretch except that Jason and I were together for several miles and then again I found that we had a bit of separation between us, but I think I sighted him close by as late as mile 12 or so. Around this stretch is where I sighted 2 different small groups of Elk nearby up hill . . . cool! At a point a few miles later, I realized that I hadn’t seen JW in a while, and started to wonder if I would. At this point, I really wished I had my cell phone as I could have contacted him to see where we were at regarding pace and mindset. I’ve never been real good at paying attention to what’s around me, and this isn’t the first time I’ve lost a runner I had planned to stay with longer. At this point, I was also having some knee pain and several hot spots on my right foot, so I knew I’d be taking some significant time at mile 17 aid station to dose up on ibuprofen, and to change out my right sock and re-lube with body glide – I was also planning to change shirt and hat since the next stretch was largely exposed by a sun that was already heating up. So I was hoping that this time that Jason and I might reconnect.

Mile 17 station was sponsored by Aravaipa Running, so I was glad to see some friendly faces there. I took a seat and someone brought me my drop bag. This was also the first station that I realized had ice. However, the station was too busy to have someone fill my pak for me, so I did, filling first with ice and then topping off with water. My water belt had been filled prior and left in the fridge overnight with 50/50 water and Gatorade, but at this point was already luke warm. I did manage to change my right sock without problem, dry my foot and get more body glide on – I think this ended up being a smart move as the blisters didn’t get much worse the rest of the day . . . the time it forced me to sit was probably also positive. My decision to change from a technical tee to a synthetic long sleeve shirt, though, seemed to raise some eyebrows and even a question from Nick Coury. Sunlight has always seemed to affect me very negatively while running so my thought was that this (as well as safari hat) would really minimize exposure, and with some sweat and maybe added water could work for some evap cooling. I don’t recall eating anything here, but did take the stinger waffle from my bag and brought it with me on the trail. I decided to not run with a watch or a GPS, but it seemed I was probably at this stop for 8-10 minutes and looked down the trail before departing and didn’t see Jason.

The next section (miles 17-33) was billed as the burn out section, and it was definitely more exposed, but much of the area has re-grown as a Manzanita forest. I’ve always liked Manzanita and these were some of the biggest trees/bushes that I have ever seen. While some were over 6 ft tall, with the sun climbing overhead I was still taking on quite a bit of sunlight. I was bringing up a good sweat and was feeling very good about my choice of hat and shirt. About mile 20 was the first time I really had any thought that I was getting hungry so ate my sports beans and the honey stinger waffle and felt better.

Mile 23.7 brought the greeting “welcome to hell” from spotters leading into the aid station. This station was by far the most Spartan. It was also remote, so there was not a drop bag option here. There was also only 1 worker (that I saw) at the station, so I decided to top off my own pak and belt. This is really where (in retrospect) some of my biggest tactical mistakes occurred. While I left the station with both belt and pak filled, I never asked if they had ice – I definitely should have as it was a long 10 miles to the next aid. I’m also fairly certain that I took no food during the brief stop and did not add anything to my pak. As I was leaving someone asked what the next stretch was like and the aid guy stated “Brutal, hilly, exposed, shitty”. Wish this warning would have prompted me to rest a bit and make sure I had everything I’d need for the road ahead, but I took off into the sun with what I had, which turned out to be 50 oz of lukewarm water, 22 oz of lukewarm sports drink and one packet of honey stinger gummies.

At what I thought was about mile 20 I decided to take stock. I felt that I was moving pretty well – still doing a bit of running on the non-technical flats and downhill and hiking the uphills at decent pace – was passing other runners with some regularity. I was also still feeling good about the hat and long sleeve – I was hot for sure, but seemed that I would have been worse off taking on sun – I had decided at this point that I’d probably keep the shirt on for longer and not change into the singlet at mile 23. However, I also had to admit that there was some cause for concern . . . I had eaten the last of my food just outside of the last aid station, and was feeling hungry now. I also had gone thru my water bottle and part of my pak. I was still feeling ok until about mile 23 and had fallen into running with a younger runner from Flagstaff and a nice graduate student from Tucson . . . the conversation definitely helped the time pass – it was nice to see the runner from Tucson also wearing sun weather gear (long sleeve and shade hat – and she agreed that it was a good idea to stick with it. But with food and water gone by mile 24 or 25, I was concerned. I debated asking fellow runners for nutrition, but I kind of felt that I should learn from my mistakes and thought with some replenishment at 27 I still might be OK. When folks would ask me how I was doing, I did say a few times that I was out of food, but no one offered from their stash and I wasn’t going to ask. Later at mile 26, I spotter offered me water without my asking and I still declined, knowing that the aid station was nearby. Totally stupid as it would have let me start to rehydrate before I reached the stop. I guess I was too stubborn and polite there . . . lesson learned.

I was very relieved to reach mile 33 and find Jon and Jim waiting – telling me it was around 12:30. They had decided that Jim would bring me home and Jon would do the same for Jason. They had made it to the station around 11:30 after an eventful bike adventure from the finish line. The guys as well as aid station staff were super helpful here. I recall someone filling my pak and bottle and even a gentleman dipping my safari hat in ice and water. I dipped into my drop bag and recall Jon asking me about each item and if I needed them. I do recall taking the sandwich and waffle and packing it away in my pak – but I don’t recall if I ate much else at the stop. While I had planned to leave the water belt here, I decided to bring it along for the next stretch – so this left me with 50 oz pak, 22 oz water bottle, and 24 oz lukewarm Gatorade/water mix. I don’t recall if they filled my bottle and pak with ice or not. I don’t recall feeling in a hurry here, but I don’t think I spent much time either. I should have sat down, taken in some fluids and food (for a while) before heading out – but was still hopeful I could just plug along and eat and drink some on the way – so much easier to recognize your errors afterwards. I had placed to do lists in both my mile 17 and 33 drop bags (i.e. eat, rest, drink, sunscreen, body glide). These turned out to be great ideas in theory, but since I never looked at either of them, they ended up being just another missed opportunity for making a good decision.

Jim and I were off and I vaguely remember feeling pretty good for about 2 miles, but had warned Jim that he wouldn’t be seeing too much running. Somewhere around what turned out to be mile 36 I recall feeling significantly worse, much more fatigued and sick to my stomach, I also noticed that my shirt that had been pretty consistently wet with sweat was now dry and crusted with salt. After relaying the bike misadventures with me, Jim was fairly quiet, which was fine with me . . . I usually don’t need much audio stimulation . . . I brought an IPod along, but never really thought about using it. I prefer listening to what’s around me (only reason I saw the elk) and trying to tap into signals my body’s giving me. I do recall about this time Jim chiming in with “is this what your pace has been?” – and I had to admit that “no – this is slower”. I’m sure I went pretty heavy to fluids and think ate the waffle around this time, but within a mile I had already completely stopped a few times. At one point, I had developed a pretty substantial calf cramp that Jim tried to help resolve I recall at one of these stops pondering on what my major malfunction was and Jim dropping that “37 miles might have something to do with it”. So in my mind, I thought so much time had passed since the exchange that we were at least at mile 38.5 and probably further. I think at that point we were at 36.7 or something. This started what I came to name the walk/stop followed soon thereafter by the walk/collapse race method, neither of which I’d recommend or really wish on anyone.

EW's perfect poop

The next probably 2 miles (?) had me stopping at least a dozen times with 4-5 of these being full on horizontal under a tree or bush – I’m not sure how long I stopped each time, but it had to be several minutes each. As painful as this was for me, I know it was no picnic for Jim – thinking he was signing up for an 18 mile training run in a scenic location, but instead getting this. For at least an hour out of the aid station, we had not seen a soul, but with the brakes full on, we were finally getting passed by other runners with regularity, most of which were kind and offered help. At the last stop, I finally decided to take off the long sleeve and just see if I could radiate off some of the heat for a while. At this point I also thought that a shit might feel OK, so I had Jim watch the trail while I squatted and managed to pinch off a perfectly heart shaped turd. I thought it was amazing and advised Jim to capture it on film, but he declined – he also gently declined my offer to take the pic (violation – as now there’s no proof as to the magic crap). Since clothes were not working out so well for me, I decided to go on shirtless, even though I had no sunscreen with me or at mile 44. I don’t think I ever laid down again, but it was still pretty slow going. Thru this phase, I still was thinking fairly clearly although I do recall rectal temperatures, magic clouds, timber/limber/lumber, as special conversation starters on my end. I also stopped to fondle a Manzanita shaft at one point. Jim’s GPS turned off here – which was probably just as well.

Mile 39.4.

This was certainly as laid out as I’d ever been during a race, and the only thing close was at the end of Maui marathon – so what got me here? I’m thinking it was a number of things. It was a hot and exposed day, that really afforded no opportunities to make mistakes and I made many (not enough calorie intake, not enough rest time at stops, not enough ice) and this was compounded by the excessive heat that the day brought (high 80s I believe) and I was really in heat exhaustion, with my body shutting itself off with some regularity. Unfortunately, the hole I had dug made it that much harder to get out of. I was very nauseated and food was near impossible to get down – a few things like hard candy were ok, but the sandwich was a no go, and gummies barely tolerable. At this point (probably 3 hours from the aid station) my fluids were warm and not appealing. Here, I think the terrain got a bit easier, maybe shadier, and maybe I started feeling slightly better and we mostly walked into mile 44 (close to 4:30PM) – as it was, we still both ran out of fluids we had been out so wrong and this was with asking for a half bottle of water from a staffer at around mile 41 (thanks dudes). OK – so we had read warnings in the participant guide that “33-44 will take about 3 ½ hours to complete” – and of course we called BS, but then it took me about 4 hours to complete the stretch . . . For comparison, the first 33 miles were completed in 7.5 hours (13.6 min/mile) and the next 11 miles in 4 hours (21.8 min/mile). So yes, a few extra minutes in the aid stations to rest and make sure I had my shit together would have been time very well spent

At this point, I had learned my lesson and planted my ass in a chair at the 44 mile aid station and had people bring my ice water, food, salt caps, magic oranges, etc. When they filled my bottle and pak, I asked them to fill it with as much ice as they could spare. I even brought along the magic crackers that I had in my drop bag along with. We were probably only at the aid station for about 15 minutes, but it still seemed like way longer than I had spent at any of the others.

So we walked out of 44 with only 7 miles left and feeling a bit better. I had thought that I had heard that this stretch had some uphill for the first 3 miles and then downhill for the last 4. The first mile or so felt like mainly up and down and then came a substantial hill that I called “soul crushing” – at first thinking that it was especially so for someone who is finishing with a time goal or chasing someone down, but I was feeling some of that as well, even though my goal at this point (as it was at the beginning) was to finish. I think a few folks passed us early out of the station, but then we seemed to be holding our own, trying to keep the stops on the ups to a minimum and even running a few of the brief stretches that were both downhill and shady. Even so, we were passed again about 3 miles out by a talkative soul and his pacer, which I’m sure got under Jim’s competitive skin. At this point, I reminded Jim that I probably wasn’t in a place to get into a sprint to the finish with anyone (like I might have done in the trail series), but, we were still plugging along. We never really seemed to get to that sustained downhill, but with about 2 miles to go it seemed to at least flatten out a bit and it was getting noticeably cooler, although probably still in the low 80s – we also started to see glow sticks along the path that would help guide the later finishers in. My legs (surprisingly) were still pretty decent, and we actually started doing some running, passing the two guys ahead of us and their pacers (to Jim’s delight) and we both got a smile at the Ragnar “one mile to go sign”. It had been a really rough stretch, but I was glad to be in a position to finish relatively strong – last 7 miles at least in under 20min/mile pace.

The finish line (as were all the aid stations) was festive but pretty low key. Not even a finish line I think. Jon (and Jason) were there for a hand slap and I recall seeing a clock (somewhere in the 13 hour range). Soon after finishing I was offered an otter pop (yes please), my choice of rock award with moss hair (wind-swept hair rock guy) a photo (nice touch) that I had mugged for earlier with zombie eyes, and a finishers sweat shirt. Here I also met Jay Danek who I had contacted pre-race for drop bag advice – nice to meet him in person.

Turned out Jason had run into problems early and dropped at 23.7, had hitched some rides and the group was ready to go by 7PM. I cleaned up a bit, and we were headed back to the valley.

So the bike had crashed hard and was down for a while, but was picked up by friends and kept safe by strangers on the road. After the crash, that same bike ended up being relatively serviceable for some miles, albeit not as fast and steady as it had been – and will require a bit of repair to get back to where it was before. I guess you can say the same for me and this race.

It was a very memorable race, with some highs and lows. The weather and terrain were going to make it a tough one regardless, but I did myself no favors with some of the decisions I made. From a time standpoint, the mistakes probably cost me up to an hour of time – but not really any regrets – a valuable lesson for next time. While I came in at 13:12 minutes, the runners I was with at mile 33, ended up at 11:44 and 12:28 respectively.

My time put me in 46^th place of 154 entrants, 126 starters, and 84 finishers.

Many thanks on this one: Jason for signing up yet again for this type of insanity – great training runs with you. Jon for providing yet another ride and agreeing to pace though just off of injury. Jim for company and encouragement during the longest 18 mile training run he’ll ever be on. Also have to give thanks to the race organizers and volunteers – great stuff!

5K Marauders

Sunday, February 17, 2013

sk8 puppy

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Sunday, January 27, 2013

HomeMade - Running Bib and Medal Organizer -

Homemade

Running Bib and Medal Organizer

THANKS CHRISTI!

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

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Thursday, January 10, 2013

Beer Mile 2012

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Zane Grey 50 - EW and JW

Zane Grey 50 through the eyes of EW.

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