So…
With RATS looming on the horizon like a midsummer late afternoon thunderstorm… and a self diagnosis of Achilles tendonitis… I knew that I needed training… and I knew that I needed to be careful and not do anything stupid.
I had an idea…
My injury research had told me that I needed to run on firm even terrain.. and to avoid sidewalks…. I knew of just the place.
The Jacksonville-Baldwin Rail Trail
It’s paved asphalt… flat… not even a crown to speak of… this idea led me to another idea I’d often had on my numerous trips back and forth on this trail on a bike… I’d even said aloud before… “I’d like to run this one day… not just part of it… but the whole thing”
I had some new gear to try out
in no time flat my pea brain put it all together….
And that, my friends is how an idea becomes a plan.
So… I found myself at the trailhead… just past dawn on Saturday morning. With my bladder full… (the Nathan one) a pack full of snax.. Ritz Bits, Uncrustable, gel flask, phone, keys etc…
I felt pretty much ready to go.
Now this was not my 1st outing with the Nathan… oh no… I’m not that stupid.. I’d run 5 the day before as a test. And after fiddling and fumbling with the straps I thought I’d gotten the fit pretty much right
The first few miles were pretty good… trying to go easy… knowing that it would be a long day… and yes, kids… adjusting my pack. I saw a raccoon… The restroom at mile 6 seemed perfectly placed.
It was interesting to take in the trail at a running pace vs a cycling one… I had a lot more time to check out the sides of the trail… and notice many side trails that I wondered where they went….
Around mile 10 my Achilles started to complain… just the right one… and just a little. My spirits were buoyed quickly thereafter when I passed the Baldwin rail station… and I knew that I only had a couple of miles to go until the end.
Not that I really needed a boost… the thought of not running all the way to the end… and back again was never considered… this is not necessarily a good trait. It has been pointed out to me as a weakness before… that I tend to follow through with things… to the bitter end… even if in so doing more harm than good is done…
Okay enough of the self psychoanalysis… I did get a bit jolly at the far end… opened a pack of Ritz bits in celebration but did not stick around… I just started shuffling back… 14.5 miles down and 14.5 to go.
On the return trip the mile markers were a countdown since all mileage is measured from the eastern end of the trail. That is really a good thing…. Because… I’m like an acrophobic in a multi storied building… once I get up to the high numbers I’d rather not know.
At around 9 to go I happened upon a couple of hikers resting beside the road… I’d seen them before… about a mile before the turnaround… at the time I thought them to be adults… but upon meeting them again I figured late high school early college age… One asked me how far I’d run… I answered 21.8 miles… the other dude was impressed… the one that asked me the question as much as called me a liar.
Well… I’d been thinking of taking an extended walk break… as my Achilles were both in high alert pain mode but… as I was one part pissed at being doubted by the punk… and one part buoyed by the other’s admiration I decided to run on.
I sang a lot… and since I had my headphones on and didn’t much care when passing cyclists laughed at me for doing so… I walked to ease the main in my legs… then ran faster since that hurt less as well… I wanted to break 6 hours… why? I don’t know… my pace had been painfully slow but… I had a goal… and something to focus on.
With about 3 miles to go I got passed by a cyclist I’d seen a few times already… he must have done 2 or more loops out there… he slowed down… told me good job and left with a thumbs up… simple thing but it made me feel a bit better as I soldiered to the finish.
As the trailhead came into view I felt a surge of emotion… nobody was there to hand me a medal… or a mug even… but I’d done something… proven something to myself… marked an item off my bucket list that few would know about and fewer would understand. My finish time was 5:57… three minutes to spare.
I swore that it was just a passing thing… a means to an end… dabbling in another sport.
Not really that attractive… somewhat raggedy looking… none of the trademark appeal of Ironman… no carbon fiber… or high end zoot components required.
In training for RATS http://geminiadventures.com/DesertRATS.html I had decided to do a few Ultramarathons… for training and to have some type of longer distance running experience.
My 1st ultra had been a 35 miler on the beach… extremely small and low key… and I’d loved it… but that’s the beach… I’m a beach kind of guy… having spent most of my adult life living in a beach community.
My 2nd ultra had been a 50 miler on an abandoned rail line… double out and back… I learned a lot but remained aloof to the charms of the ultra… It’s just a long day I told myself…. Running fast is more fun
So Guana… a race in my own back yard so to speak was to be my 1st actual trail run… and first 50k. The race is basically 4 – 8 mile loops in Guana State Park.
Just because there is no real high end gear… that does not mean that logistics is not a requirement… and now that I am such an experienced (ha!) ultrarunner I came well prepared…. I had a backpack full of junk… gels… crackers… Gatorade etc…
My friend Susan accompanied me to the race… on the trip down the coast I asked her what her goals for the race were… she turned the question around on me immediately (she is an attorney). I answered rather boldly that I wanted to do the race fast enough to be able to catch up to her on her last lap and run an extra loop… She just looked at me and said… I’m just going to finish… and the way she said it… and the way she looked at me made me feel dumb…
See Susan had done a something like 12 Marathons and a couple of ultras since October… she was understandably tired and also a shoo in to finish whatever she started.
So… we get to the race site.. and the RD shined his headlamp on the big trail map and started explaining the course and giving specific directions… I listened anyway but I was sure that there would be someone to follow…
At 0700 with the sun just peeking up over the dunes the RD lined us all up… and said “Is everybody ready?”
I heard one voice pipe up… “Wait! I don’t have my satellites yet”
The question, as it turns out was rhetorical… and he almost immediately shouted “Go!”
Now I had on my Garmin too… and I did not “have my satellites” either… but… WTH we started running.
I ran the first mile or so with Susan… and I was quite surprised at how quickly the pack thinned out…
Susan urged me to get on up the trail so I picked it up a bit. For most of the first lap I was catching people… but they were pretty few and far between… I found myself alone a few times racking my brain for the race director’s words about engineer’s flags and out and backs, and turns. I managed to find my way until I happened upon Matt
Matt is in the navy… I asked if he’d ever done an ultra and he said no… with a cautious smile… About that time we picked up Jim… a seasoned Ultramarathoner that I had met at the start line… nice guy… the three of us chat and run the rest of lap one together.
The clock… my only indication of pace so far… read ~1:17 when we completed the lap… I ran off to hit the duce… and thought my companions would disappear up the trail while I stopped.
When I started my second lap I could see a runner ahead… a ½ mile later I caught Jim again… and soon thereafter a heavy breathing Matt caught us as well. As Jim and I chatted about marathons, ultras, and cycling in traffic, Matt yo-yoed off the back…
I slipped away from them both at the water cooler placed at ~4mi… roughly the half-way point… I didn’t really want to stop… just run…. So that’s just what I did for the next loop and a half… I mindlessly ran… completely alone for the most part… just me… and my feet and the trail… and I loved every step. Lots of smiles to myself. Especially on the single-track part… roots… weaving… tight corners. I saw an armadillo… and a snake.
As I started my 4th loop I noticed that the clock read 4:0X… 4:07 if I had to guess… and with that knowledge I knew that I had a good shot at sub 5:30… so I just kept running…. Saw another armadillo… I was getting tired and I guess not picking my feet up… so a root got me at one point… like a hammer hitting my big toe. I caught myself with the other leg… slightly hyper extending it in the process… probably looked like sasquatch stumbling thru the woods for a few steps. Soon after this I could feel the wheels falling off a bit… and for the first time all day I was tired and beginning to slow.
About a mile and a half from the finish I caught Susan… She admitted to not having a great day but she was still in good spirits. We clowned around and laughed a bit then I set off again on my quest to catch 5:30. I wanted to finish strong but had no speed left. I even got passed by a couple in the last mile.
But finish I did… and in ~5:27… and that, my friends, was the end of the race… but not the end of the story.
To say I was spent would be an understatement… but I knew I had one more lap to go… So I ate some… and drank some…trying to pull myself together enough to not slow Susan down on her last lap.
All too soon the break was over and we set out for one more… more walking than running but that was fine by me… Nice day… good conversation… the miles while difficult passed quickly… Soon it seemed we were on the back part of the course along the Intracostal… We rounded a corner and pulled up to the beach right in front of us were two boats… one Sherriff’s boat with lights flashing and a civilian boat…
Susan wanted to go see what was going on… I vetoed that idea and insisted that we keep moving. 10-15 minutes later we hear sirens in the distance… piquing our curiosity about what might have been going on back there… a mile or so further on we meet a park ranger headed towards the far side of the island… He stopped long enough to tell us that some people had found a body floating in the Intracostal… so that’s what all the commotion was about….
Well we finished… then hung around to help clean up the site a bit…
We ended the day… sitting with friends… drinking beer at a bar overlooking the Intracoastal.
I think I’m in love with this trail running thing in spite of myself…
I had an absolute blast… like a rollercoaster at an amusement park… I want to get right back in line and go on the ride again!
I’m not going to do a traditional report this time… I got my hands on a bunch of pictures.
off on the first run… the dude in the Gator skinsuit over my left shoulder would be my nemeisis… he was one of 2 guys who passed me on the bike….
check out the guy above with the gloves on… there were many who did the whole race in gloves…. one dude had them on backwards… I guess he thought his knuckles might need the padding if he got into some fisticuffs out on the course.
I am cold… that’s my cold face.
the lady that you can see on my left shouldre was so cute… in her mid 50s… she was doing her first race… and had a blast out there…. she had just remoounted… because she stopped, got off ther bike, and got a drink… despite her noobness she seemed to really get it… as she smiled and laughed and went hard all day.
At the finish… I’d caught both of the guys who passed me on the bike… and only got passed once… by the dude who took 2nd in my AG….
As I often do… I re-read my race report from 2009 the day before the subtitle of this entry is what hit me…
In 2009 I had started with the masses… after being a runner and triathlete for over a decade I had decided a few months prior to get serious about my diet and training and I was just beginning to see results.
Flip the calendar 12 months to march 2010 and the consistent work I’d put in had paid dividends… I had a seeded race number… and was hanging out in the front corral with some fast friends from the local track club. I was planning to run with Barbra, my friend from work… and had already gotten in a decent warm-up with her and her boyfriend Steve…. I felt good.. no injuries… just maybe a little tired…. And slightly bandaged up.
I’d had a full training week complete with a leg work out on Wednesday and a 10 miler on Thursday.. hard to fit everything in with ultras looming… on top of that I had my 2nd Mohs Surgery in as many weeks which meant that I had 13 stitches in my chest…. I’d stayed out a bit to late on Friday night too.. but with a group ride and long run on Spring Forward Sunday.. I thought Friday night out was the better option.
But like I said before… I felt pretty good…. Ready to run…. And to not think… because I had a plan!
Barbra is one of the best female AG runners in the city… she was aiming at a 68 for the 15k… my #1 goal was sub 70… and easily attained I thought if I just stayed with Barbra….
When the cannon went off we were only about 20 rows back… in a crowd of 16,000… getting into a rhythm was easy… just run with everyone else. It felt fast… but it was supposed to… In the second mile my legs started to hurt a little… and for one second I thought… then immediately told myself “Don’t think Meat, Thinking can only hurt the ballclub” at which point I settled back in on keeping up with my pacer.
Mile 3 I got separated from Barbra a bit… she had slipped behind me… I figured she was just letting me lead for a while… swapping the lead is something we often do in training… so I thought little of it… I would never have guessed it would be the last I’d see of her until the finish line. Soon after I lost my partner the check engine light came on…
Mile 4 – cramps and a noticeable slowing in pace… my inner Scotty was yelling “”I canna change the laws of physics! I’ve got to have thirty minutes.” I hated it but knew I needed to back off the throttle just a bit or risk blowing up.
Around the mile 6 mark some local band was playing a cover of Cake’s “The Distance” with my cramps fading I hit the gas again to see what I had left. Near the top of the Heart bridge is the 8 mile mark… I hit it in exactly an hour… my hopes for a sub 70 were all but evaporated. I ran as hard as I could down the other side and to the finish and just made it… as long as this is an acceptable way to write my finish time…
69:91
Although I’d missed my goal I had, however, shown some significant progress… a nearly 8 minute PR over the same distance the year before… not to mention the joy of the journey through those calendar pages. 
On Tuesday of last week… I stared to get the idea that I might want to do this race…
On Thursday my participation was confirmed. By 5PM on Friday I had a race number in my hand.
So, I thought… now what?
I’d wanted to do the race because some of my friends were doing it… it goes through my old neighborhood… and I could always use another long run in preparation for RATS.
As I sifted through my race packet… All of the breast cancer awareness stuff… It all made me think of my friend Cindy.
She and I have been friends since kindergarten… I think everyone had that girl in their class in school that told everyone what to do… like Lucy in Peanuts… well that’s Cindy. As a grown up she’s well… much the same way J… but with a heart as big as Texas. She battled breast cancer a few years ago… and is fighting health issues again.
So I had this idea… That I’d run the race in her honor…. It sounded kinda cheesy to me at first… me… doing something that I love to do… for me… then dedicating my effort to someone… but then I thought again. Sometimes just the simple act of telling someone that you are thinking about them… and what they are going through… is important… sometimes it’s really all we can do.
So I asked Cindy what she thought… and she thought it a capital idea.
With that in mind… as I got dressed Sunday morning I wrote her name… on my forearm… and on my calf.
Now My initial idea about this race was to take it as a lark… just jogging it, I thought… after the 50 miler the weekend before would be sufficient….
I met my friend Mark… and the rest of our FLDIC team at the start… for a couple of pictures. After the pictures mark and I walked over to the start.
He asked me… “So what’s your plan?”
I almost always have a plan. Truth is I didn’t… I said “I don’t know” then thought of Cindy… and honoring her fight with one of my own…. And finished up by saying “I’m going to run it”
Mark asked for clarification… and I told him that I was just going to run… no mind to time… pace… distance… just run the course.
We found someone to snap a quick picture of us then we were off…
I ran the first mile or so with Mark… pace didn’t matter since we were packed into a herd of a few thousand people utilizing the same on ramp .2 miles into the course. The temperature when I parked my car had been 37F… by the time I dropped my arm warmers (home made from an old pair of tights I found in the goodwill box) at mile 2 it had already warmed up a bunch…
Somewhere in mile 2 I passed the 5:30 pace group. In mile 3 I passed the 5:15 and 5:00 groups. The course reaches the beach at about mile 5 and by then I had caught the 4:30 group. Once on the beach… I had a better line of sight… and I could see another group ahead… the 4:15s. Ironically I had chased them on this same stretch of beach last year after going off course… and there they were again. It took a couple of miles… but I caught and passed them… about the time I reached my old neighborhood.
From there… I really had no other goal in mind.. just my 3 letter… one word mantra… run.
A few miles later I caught a group of girls… and I could kinda hear their conversation… they were worried about their finishing times being recorded correctly. I kinda politely butted in and tried to quell their fears… telling them how the finish was laid out with separate finishing chutes for the half and full… etc. They explained to me the finish was not their issue… they were worried because they went off course… and accidentally crossed the 7 mile timing mat on the ½ marathon course…. At that I started laughing… and they started getting mad…. At least until I explained that I had done the exact same thing the year before.
On my way out to the turnaround I caught a few old friends… and chatted a bit… Before I knew it I crossed the ½ way point… the clock read 2:05 not too bad.
The day was lovely… just that first hint of spring after what has been, for us Floridians, a cold winter. By mile 15 I was burning up in the FLDIC black short sleeve tech shirt I’d been issued… so off it came… at mile 16… I dumped it in my old neighborhood.
Running down 1st Street in Neptune beach on a sunny day definitely put a big smile on my face. Not too many places in the world I rather have been. I could, however, hear some warning bells going off.
The heat was beginning to get to me a bit. I could tell that my haphazard approach to this race, while refreshing and loose, hadn’t put enough emphasis on hydration.
I never really “hit a wall” so to speak but I did slow a bit over the last 10 miles… took in a bunch of fluids… a couple of Gels. Also I never let go of my mantra… and the fight I’d set out to honor… to simply run.
At mile 23 the 4:15 pacers caught me… with but one pace in tow. I tried to stay with them but their walk/run did not fit with my plans.
I finished… pretty well spent… right at 4:15 chip time.
Although I was finished running I was not yet finished with my daily mileage. I had to walk about 1.3 miles to Mark’s house. On the way I stopped at the beer tent and picked up a couple of 16oz Buds… By the time I got to Mark’s I had a nice buzz.
A damm fine day!
Below are some splits I took on my Timex.. yet never looked at… I’m normally pretty consistent… looks like I was all over the place this time.
29.51 
8.53
8.11
9.29
9.49
9.20
17.52
9.00
9.16
10.27
8.20
9.20
10.00
9.47
20.07
10.26
20.39
10.48
33.37
This race had never been a goal… I had put it on my calendar as a means to an end.
Running in an Ultramarathon was nothing I’d ever really contemplated… but… In a moment of inspiration, or insanity (depending on my mood from day to day) I signed up to do RATS… In looking at that as an ultimate goal.. I decided that I might want to do a standalone ultra or two before the big test in the desert.
I was quite surprised to find a 50 miler in my back yard so to speak.
The race start was located in Florahome, FL… roughly an hour’s drive from my house. So I stuck the race on my calendar… put together a training plan… and registered.
A few weeks before the race a girl from the tri list, Iliana, decided to come down from NYC and run the race with me… I was happy to have some company and camaraderie to tackle a feat that until a few months ago I would have found ridiculous… running 50 miles on an abandoned rail bed.
I wanted to fix what I perceived to be my biggest mistake in my only previous ultra race… I’d taken but 3 gels for 35 miles… and only taken 50 or so ounces of water.
Well… with that in mind we loaded for bear… enough gels, honey, crackers, pretzels, PB&J… you name it… we were stocked.
I wanted to get to the race site an hour or so early… cuz I knew I’d have to tend to bizness… we left a bit late, however, and got to the site at around 0630 for an 0700 start. No sooner had we picked up our packets and pinned on numbers… the RD called for the pre-race meeting… since we had skipped the meeting and packet pick-up the night before I thought hanging around might be a good idea… we did and for the best no doubt… the race had 3 trestles that would need to be navigated 4x each for the double out and back that made up the 50 mile course. The RD gave some words of caution…
Well the meeting adjourned about 0659.. the race started on time at 0700… The RD had Colonel’s wings on his parka… so I never doubted the race would be precise… But we were not ready until 0710… so the race left without us.
At 0710 we sauntered up to the start line… which was a flag… stuck into a fence post. I knew we just headed West from there so off we went… on a dirt road… Soon we came to a curve… Which led us north… and another turn back to the west… I had noticed the lack of footprints… and we discussed this discovery… about that time we see a dude coming our way on a bike… when he caught us… we were informed that we had started the race by going directly off course… Great! I think… “10 minutes late and now .25 miles off course… we are off to a *flying* start”
Iliana’s coach had ordered her to do an 8/1 run walk mix… I’ve never done walk run in training or a race… but… oh… why not… 50 miles is far…
Around 0715 we get *back* to the start and start the race in earnest… the first out and back is only about 4 miles which is perfect timing for portaloo stop #2 (pun intended). We get back on the trail.. pretty much at the azs end of the race… Iliana and I have been chatting since we O-Dark-30… So I suggest that we listen to some music for a while… well… within a mile we have started catching folks… within 2 we’ve caught even more… Iliana has her music cranked up and is by (what I gather to be) ultra standards hauling asz… we are still walking 1 for 8… but when we are running the pace is like a 9 minute mile… We are passing people constantly… zigzagging through groups of 3 at times… Iliana is singing, loudly and slightly off key… and I’m chasing her like we’ve missed a bus or something.
Now I’m pretty easy going… and some would say that is an understatement… After a few miles I mention that our pace is a bit quick… a few more later I say I think we should slow down… a couple after that I get her to take off her headphones and tell her to go ahead… that I’m not going to run that fast anymore… She promises to slow down… and does so… when I settle into a 10:30ish running pace… Somewhere along the line I realized that I had inadvertently stopped my Garmin… I don’t look at it much so it had been about an hour since it had stopped… I didn’t really care either… I was just out to run 2 loops… and not think too much…
After the second turnaround and soon thereafter a visit to aid station 3 we decided to chat for a while and give the iPods a break… that resulted in probably the easiest and most consistently paced miles of the day. When we stopped by Aid station #2 again I sampled their PB&Js… In jest I asked if they would cut the crusts off for me next time… they said they would… but that they might use the “other jelly” and pointed to a big tub of Vaseline…
The next section was back to music… and per usual for me… the miles in the late teens and early 20s is where I get my endorphin fix. Even tho this is the rockiest section.. it passes pretty easily under our feet…
By the time we get back to my car we are halfway… another quick break of refill the pockets and change shirts (not necessarily in that order) and we tackle the short out and back again.. knowing that it’s our last time on that part of the course is a comfort. When we passed the car for the last time I decided to lose the tights in favor of shorts.. it was far from warm (for me) 50F is well above tights weather even for a deep southerner like me. I now had on a singlet with pockets and shorts…
An hour or so later we pull into aid station 2 again… and sure enough… they had cut the crusts off of a PB&J for me J… and the jelly flavor was grape… not petroleum.
During the next section the pain really begins… not pain really… not in a physical sense… more of a strain… Our pace is just a little too much for me…. Even tho we had slowed down a little bit more even… I found myself hanging off Iliana’s shoulder… I felt like a sidecar to her motorcycle… always trailing… never catching up… no motor.. just being drug along… this scenario had been foretold.. by Iliana’s coach… Her words written 6 weeks earlier “And you’re going to be dragging Cowart behind you. You will put that poor
boy into an early grave.”
Lessons learned: Don’t Tug on Superman’s Cape… Don’t spit in the wind… Don’t pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger… and don’t doubt Coach Debi
As we neared the final turnaround I hit a low point… I started seriously falling off the pace… keeping up hurt… I wanted Iliana to just go on… let me suffer in peace… I wanted to quit but knew I never would.. I just wanted to slow down a bit… But I plodded onward… time and again… after the 1 (sometimes now 2) minute walk breaks I started running.. not because I wanted to… but I was simply too tired to try and argue about whether or not she would go on without me. I did start hitting the gels on more of a regular basis… every 20-25 minutes.. that seemed to help… I had been looking for the blue tent… finally it appeared in the distance… soon thereafter… we were back at Aid station #2 again… it was here that I heard the sweetest words….
“Only 4 Miles to go”
I’m not sure who said it but… as those words sank in my spirits began to buoy… the voices in my head said… “I can make it..” “that’s not far” “that’s less than an hour”
We were now back to the iPods… mine is cranked… we were doing 7/3 now….but for the last 4 miles the run part was 9:30-10:00 pace… about a half mile out the (as far as I know) only store in Florahome came into view… I’d been looking for it for 15 minutes… it was a sight for sore eyes. We actually skipped our last walk break and ran it on in… Iliana asked if I wanted to sprint it out for the win… I said “heck no”… I might have used somewhat stronger language.
Post race:
We got a burger… changed clothes… then headed back to Jax. I had no blisters… but my Achilles tendons on both feet were on fire for the last 20 miles. By the time I got home my legs were really hurting… Sunday morning I was as sore as I was after my 1st Marathon.
Sunday afternoon I ran (?) in the Winter Beaches Run with my friend Mark… Five 11s was all I could do… with the Achilles screaming all the way. By Wednesday, a few trainer sessions and one easy run later, I felt almost back to normal… but I have been mother tired…. And still am. I’ve probably slept 1-2 hrs a night more than usual since Saturday… and have had a few naps to boot.
Today it hit me… I ran 50 miles…
So… I was feeling pretty good about myself today… Ultra coming up this weekend… big mileage under my belt from the first 6 weeks of the year.
I had a nice easy run scheduled. It had started raining tho…. As I walked out of my office I asked a couple of guys from my staff…. “Who would want to run in this kind of weather” they replied “you would” (might have been a condescending tone… to me it sounded like admiration) =;-)
On my way to the locker room I ran into one of the runners from upstairs in IT… “You running in this?” “Yeah” I replied with a smile.
In the locker room I run into another guy who was staying inside… I told him “This is good running weather”. I was really feeling like badazz hard mofo.
As I start outside I see that someone else has decided to run today… it’s Barbra from accounting… In shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt… I’ve never seen her out running before… I assume she’s one of the newbies who signed up for the River Run 5k that our company is putting together a team for… She’s standing under the awning.. I walk outside and tell her “It’s not so bad after you get out in it”.
She immediately starts jogging away… saying “I like this weather” over her shoulder… then looks back over her shoulder a few strides later as if to say “Aren’t you coming Mr. Talker?”
So I decided to run along with the newbie a bit… and we ran and started talking…. I thought she was starting out a bit fast and figured, “newbie” and that she was just inexperienced… and would soon slow down and I’d be off on my own.
Well… not exactly… we swapped a couple of running stories… then she mentions something like “since I ran cross country in college” That was about the time I realized I might be in trouble…. Over the next 10 minutes I try to carry on a conversation without sounding too out of breath… I wish I could chalk up the number of times I repeated myself to her poor hearing.
The only time I dictated the pace was when we ran the trial by the railroad tracks that I run every day… and know route and potholes… soon enough, however, we were back on the road….
I was really having a hard time holding on… and was getting stomach cramps to boot… my only saving grace was that I’d told her early on that I’d intended to run 4…. Now early on I thought I’d run 5 with her but at 3.5 I needed an out and letting her go then do a ½ mile cooldown jog was just the ticket…
So I gasped “I’m…… gonna…. let… you… go… now…. I’ve… got… to… head….. on…. back….”
She replied over her shoulder…. as I was falling back like a stone dropped off a cliff…. “Maybe we can run again later this week”
With that I tucked my tail between my legs… so to speak….. dropped my pace a full 3 minutes per mile… and hobbled back to the locker room.
Needless to say I returned to my office with the knowledge that I’m not the toughest runner in the building… that honor goes to the little red haired lady in accounting.
1st of all I’d like to thank my friends on TRI-DRS who challenged my “foreign idea” of driving to run idea.
That feedback got me to thinking… that maybe I was missing something.
So… I hit up the local running club’s website…. looking for interesting group runs/locations and… I found something:
http://www.usatf.org/routes/view.asp?rID=18454
and even tho I did not drive to the start… I did do the run. I live about 3.5 miles from the turnaround spot. With the 7 miles on trails… and 7 miles round trip to get there I figured I could add a few miles of the Jax marathon course at the other end and have a nice long run.
So… with a few directions and street names written on my hand I was all set for a Saturday morning adventure. That’s about when I noticed that it was raining outside. Well let’s add wet and muddy into the mix.
So I began in a steady rain and at a steady pace… In training for ultras means that I need to start getting used to carrying stuff with me. So I took 2 12oz bottles of water and a gel flask full of honey.
Getting to, and back from, the trail was probably the worst part… sidewalks, major highway crossings etc… I guess there’s a reason to drive eh?
The “trail” as it is…. is actually a doubletrack along a canal that runs parallel to the railroad. Based on the maps and satellite pictures I’d studied the night before I knew that I could cut through but was unsure of where. I found a likely spot… a hole in a fence at the corner of a vacant lot. I ducked through and had only run a few meters when I started to see evidence of homeless hooches… no people but evidence of first a small and soon a larger camp. Soon I had broken through the woods and found the road/trail.
And it was muddy… and it was still raining… but it was nice… no people…. no cars… for the next mile and a half. At the end of the doubletrack I had to slip through another hole in a fence… cross a road… then I was on a single-track trail for another mile… I crossed another road ran a few blocks down a side street and then cut though another rooty, muddy trail through a city park.
After that it was mostly streets and sidewalks to my 8.5 mile turnaround. More muddy fun on the way back but… I found that I was having a bit of an issue…. my Achilles have been bothering me since the beach run I did a couple of weeks ago… this made the last 3.5 miles on sidewalks unpleasant.
All in all I had a fun adventure and found a new playground… so…. thanks again TRI-DRS.
As for the Achilles… I decided to do my Sunday run on blacktop as much as possible, since that surface seems to bother me the least. I had issues from mile 1 but… the pain/discomfort never got any worse but mentally I was just not into running yesterday. I basically slogged along for 15 miles thinking of excuses to pack it in… then for some reason (okay I promised myself unlimited peanut butter if I ran 20) I felt like running for the last 5 and actually finished strong.
“There is no balm for treating the burns, and scrapes, and cuts of life like finishing a 10 mile run in the rain”
Pre Race:
Logistics… looked to be possibly the toughest part of this race. The RD stressed that runners should have a crew…. Well… I’m kind of a loner… and I don’t like asking for help. The race was point to point so I had no other choice there… I needed a ride or 2…
My supplies for the race.
I had my daughter take me to the start… she was not overjoyed at getting up early on a Saturday… but agreeable enough. On the way to the start we stopped… near what would be the 12 mile mark and I dropped a bottle of water.
The race started at 0830 so at 0815 I had Masey take my picture… then she gave me kiss on the cheek… and I walked off into the foggy rainy morning to start.
And yes… it was raining steadily at the start. The RD gave some very simple instructions:
“run north until you see a yellow flag approximately 2.5 miles away… then turn around and then keep the waves to your left until you see a red flag at the Jetties in Vilano Beach”
I had another bottle that I dropped at the start and planned to pick up on the way back by. Otherwise I had approximately 4 watered down gels in a flask, a flask of water, and a single gel packet. Yep that’s right… 5 gels for 6 plus hours and 48 oz of water.
The out and back
The out and back could have been called the Sandpiper 5 miler. Since we started at high tide… finding firm sand to run on was a tad difficult. We mostly ran just at the edge of the waves and yo-yoed with the waves like the bird… I chatted with an old acquaintance, Loretta, who I used to run with 10 years ago… nice to catch up and gather some intel from her since she had done the race 4 or 5 times and won the women’s division the year before.
Although I would have liked to stay and finishing with them would have been a-ok with me… After a few miles of chatting I decided that I would pick it up a little… and get some serenity and put time in the bank…. My plan being that if I fell into difficulty, or otherwise slowed down (which I fully expected), her little group would pick me up and I could hang on with them.
Not even half way
So that’s just what I did… I hung off the front of her group for the next dozen or so miles… at one point, about mile 8 or 9 with the fog so thick I could so no one ahead of or behind me… I did a quick pit stop… and by the time I started again… there was Loretta’s pack… 4 or 5 strong emerging from the mist.
So I trudged on along. I think that the teen miles were the hardest… I was tired… and yet not even half way…. No one ahead… the ghostly looking pack behind… rain… grey…
I adopted a mantra that would serve me well all day:
“Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.” – Theodore Roosevelt
Endorphins and “Apache”
The state park at Micklers landing was the half-way point… and for some reason I expected some sort of aid station there… the RD was there… writing down numbers and times but… nothing else. I asked if they had any gels… and some nice lady… part of someone else’s crew handed me one… it was like a gold nugget to me at this point.
I left them behind and was soon lost in the mist and fog again… the scene was somewhat surreal… ocean, waves, beach, sky, mist… like a painting on the wall of a study in some murder mystery movie or slightly out of focus photo.
I’d had this drab sameness for miles… and hours… then the endorphins kicked in… I picked up my pace… sang at the top of my lungs… lyrics that were swallowed up by the roar of the ocean and the pitter patter of the rain… heard by no one but me… but I was having a blast all of a sudden. I spied a lone figure ahead. Within a mile I had caught and passed someone for the first time in the race. Soon thereafter the Sugar Hill Gang came on my iPod… “Apache” I knew every word… and proved it by listening to it 3x in a row…. And rapping along.
Post Marathon Blues and bonk
Not too long after the Apache raid I caught and passed two more runners. A guy, who I found out is an Army Ranger, and a girl… the guy was having ITB trouble. They stayed within sight until the next checkpoint which was just after the marathon point. I stopped there and begged some water from the dude taking splits and soon thereafter the girl re-passed me.
I followed her… and kept her in sight for a few miles but the wheels were coming off. 10s in the early 20s had given way to 10:40s in the mid 20s which turned into 12s by the early 30s. I walked a couple of times for a few steps just to rearrange my junk in my pockets but I knew that if I walked… 12s would be 15s immediately so on I trudged. At mile 32 I ate the last bit of gel I had left… followed by my last swig of water. I had rationed out my meager supplies the best I could and said aloud “well, no more logistics to plan for now… just finish you idiot”
So that’s just what I did… Roosevelt’s words in my head and more than once on my lips.
My guess at a finish time was 6.5 hours… and I’d come in a little ahead of schedule
When the finish line came into view… I was happy, yes… relived, not so much… I was hoping that my kid was there to meet me…
Post Race
My biggest fear for this race was not finishing the race… but… instead in my 16 year old daughter finding me at the finish. I had programmed my GPS to get her close… and shown her a map… satellite photos.. street views… of exactly where I would be. I guess I should have printed all this stuff out…
The first words I spoke upon finishing were “can I borrow a cell phone?”
I was going to call my daughter and tell her *not* to drive on the beach as I had instructed her to do… but instead… wait for me to walk up to the road… with all the rain… the sand was a bit sticky and I did not want to get stuck. When I got her on the phone I asked… “Were are you”
She replied “on the beach… and I think we are stuck”
I said “What beach?”
She said “I don’t know”
Now this is where I almost lost it…. I’m tired.. and cold… and cranky… bonking… and now my 16 year old…. And my Suburban (2 Wheel Drive BTW) is stuck on a beach… and not on the same beach I’m on…
I managed to take a few deep breaths and not bite my kid’s head off….
Long story a bit less long… a race volunteer drove me around until we found her… and my Suburban… up to its running boards in the sand…
We dug for a while… and a few minutes later a nice gentleman in a 4WD pulled us out.
Epilogue
All in all a good experience for my 1st Ultra… The weather, while it was dreary, was really perfect for running. I dressed right for the weather and race. My nutrition and hydration plans need some work… and I need to learn to give more explicit directions to my teenagers…
I have not been near as sore from this effort as I have from marathons I have done in the past but I have been really tired… I guess I had some blistering issues on my left heel as well.
With 6 180 degree turns wind and rain… lots of slowing down ad speeding up… I seem to have been chased by the police at some point…
Had just repassed Gator skinsuit guy somewhere along here….
Oh… yeah… right turn
Off on the 2nd run…. chasing Gator skinsuit guy… who passed me in the TA depite the fact that I had the best spot possible in transition. I could see him and “Ralph” (some guy who works at a local bikeshop) who also passed me on the bike.
All About Pace 
