II?ve been trying to find the right words to describe my experiences during the American River 50 Mile Endurance Run, but I can?t. I think part of me doesn?t want to externalize it.
Weather for the race; rain and mud.
This has been my only event where (1) there never was a low point (up to the injury) and (2) I didn?t want it to end. I was running in the moment and wanted to keep it that way. Rain; mud; poison oak; it didn?t matter. All that mattered that day was the exhilarating feeling I had; mile after mile, hour after hour.
I had a comprehensive pacing plan broken down into 3 race segments. The first 20 miles; miles 21-40, and 41-50, but by mile 16 or so I was so tuned in that I decided to let the terrain dictate pace. By mile 20 I was approximately 16 minutes ahead of schedule. At the major check point of Beals Point at mile 27.4 my average pace overall was 9:47; 47 seconds faster/mile then planned for that point in the race, bringing me into that check point about 21 minutes ahead of schedule. I felt great!!! Did I mention rain????
After Beals Pt we began the trails and our introduction was a run across the dike at Folsom Dam. Out in the open we were exposed to a strong crosswind coming in over the lake. No worries.
Coming into the Granite Bay aid station at mile 31.5, I set a new 50K pr (5:17).
The next 8.4 miles were hilly muddy single track with rain again falling. During the pre-race briefing the night before, the RD told us this was the toughest part of the course and for most runners the lowest. Just tough it out and it?ll get better. It may have been a low point for some, but for me I was still in a groove. It took 1:45 to get through that section. I stumbled only once and felt a surge through my back, but quickly recovered. Perhaps this was a premonition of what was to come or at least a warning that in a race of this length anything can happen.
I tried pacing off groups in front of me but they kept moving aside. I eventually fell in line with an experienced older runner named Wally who has run this course several times. We talked a bit and he asked me how I was doing and I updated him on my progress thus far and he seemed impressed. After following him for about a half an hour I decided he was going to slow and I went past. As in the first half of the race, I found myself alone.
As I was cresting a hill into the Rattlesnake Bar aid station at mile 39.9, the crowd was quiet. With the way I was feeling I couldn?t have any of that so I yelled out from the top of the hill ?Hey, how about some love!!? and with that the cowbells and hollering started.
I turned down a poncho at this point from a friend?s wife who was crewing for us. I figured I was already wet and running well that I?ll just go on. Turns out that was a mistake.
With the tougher parts of the course now behind me, my sole focus was on finishing strong and holding any time gains that I had left.
I passed mile 40 in under 7 hours, at least 10-15 minutes ahead of scheduled pace.
After I left the aid station at Manhattan Bar, mile 43.2, I knew I was home. Nothing short of a disaster could stop me now.
The rain started falling harder and the winds were whipping through the canyons. Shortly after the aid station, without warning, a sharp pain shot through my left calf. I almost went down but kept moving. I can?t describe the feeling in my gut when that bolt of pain hit. To say that it hurt was an understatement. Was this the disaster that could stop me??
At first I thought it was a cramp so I took more E-caps and three Advil. I didn?t want to stop. All through the run I focused on relentless forward motion. When I could run, I ran. When I couldn?t run, I walked and when I now couldn?t walk, I walked anyway.
I was alone on the trail and starting to cool off and in pain; cold, wet, and limping 6 miles from the finish.
Hills were the worst. I wish I had taken that poncho.
The rain was steady and I was getting colder. Part of me wanted my running buddies, who were somewhere behind me to catch up so I could hopefully get a poncho. The other half of me didn?t want to see them. I was ahead by some unknown amount of time and wanted to keep it that way.
I started to do mental math trying to come in at my predicted time of 9:30 (actually, by my pace calculation, my arrival time was predicted to be 9:32). Just keep going.
A few people passed and offered salt tablets (I still thought I had a cramp). A few offered words of encouragement and one called me ?one tough runner?.
The last 3 miles of the trail ascend 1000 feet into Auburn. I dreaded that, but just kept going.
At the final aid station, Last Gasp, at mile 47.6, one of the volunteers said I had the best limp of the day. I just filled my water bottle and kept going. I was being passed now by ones and twos as I tried to go faster. I had resigned myself to a time of around 9:45. For some reason this hill wasn?t as bad as described; I just kept going trying to cut corners wherever I could to save a few precious seconds here and there.
As I got near the top, the crowd started to grow and more words of encouragement came. I rounded a corner and for the final push I had to get over a curb. I must have looked pretty bad as a spectator offered to help me up. I refused. No help; just me!!
The course flattened out and I began to run. I wasn?t going to come 50 miles only to walk across the finish line. Pain or not, with tears in my eyes I ran across the finishing mat in 9:33 (187/481 OA) Somehow, even limping 6 miles with a torn calf muscle I finished in my predicted time. Good enough to earn me a qualifying time for the Western States 100.
In the week that has gone by, I still can?t walk very well. There is still mild bruising and swelling and it looks like I might lose 3 or 4 toenails as well. The wounds will heal and the poison oak will clear but the experience will stay with me. Oh and my friends, well they finished from 20 to 50 minutes behind me.
Am I going to put my name in the hat for Western States?.well, like some of the other things that happened on April 14th out there along the American River, I have to keep that to myself?.for now.
Thanks--Mike
------------------
The legs feed the wolf
Weather for the race; rain and mud.
This has been my only event where (1) there never was a low point (up to the injury) and (2) I didn?t want it to end. I was running in the moment and wanted to keep it that way. Rain; mud; poison oak; it didn?t matter. All that mattered that day was the exhilarating feeling I had; mile after mile, hour after hour.
I had a comprehensive pacing plan broken down into 3 race segments. The first 20 miles; miles 21-40, and 41-50, but by mile 16 or so I was so tuned in that I decided to let the terrain dictate pace. By mile 20 I was approximately 16 minutes ahead of schedule. At the major check point of Beals Point at mile 27.4 my average pace overall was 9:47; 47 seconds faster/mile then planned for that point in the race, bringing me into that check point about 21 minutes ahead of schedule. I felt great!!! Did I mention rain????
After Beals Pt we began the trails and our introduction was a run across the dike at Folsom Dam. Out in the open we were exposed to a strong crosswind coming in over the lake. No worries.
Coming into the Granite Bay aid station at mile 31.5, I set a new 50K pr (5:17).
The next 8.4 miles were hilly muddy single track with rain again falling. During the pre-race briefing the night before, the RD told us this was the toughest part of the course and for most runners the lowest. Just tough it out and it?ll get better. It may have been a low point for some, but for me I was still in a groove. It took 1:45 to get through that section. I stumbled only once and felt a surge through my back, but quickly recovered. Perhaps this was a premonition of what was to come or at least a warning that in a race of this length anything can happen.
I tried pacing off groups in front of me but they kept moving aside. I eventually fell in line with an experienced older runner named Wally who has run this course several times. We talked a bit and he asked me how I was doing and I updated him on my progress thus far and he seemed impressed. After following him for about a half an hour I decided he was going to slow and I went past. As in the first half of the race, I found myself alone.
As I was cresting a hill into the Rattlesnake Bar aid station at mile 39.9, the crowd was quiet. With the way I was feeling I couldn?t have any of that so I yelled out from the top of the hill ?Hey, how about some love!!? and with that the cowbells and hollering started.
I turned down a poncho at this point from a friend?s wife who was crewing for us. I figured I was already wet and running well that I?ll just go on. Turns out that was a mistake.
With the tougher parts of the course now behind me, my sole focus was on finishing strong and holding any time gains that I had left.
I passed mile 40 in under 7 hours, at least 10-15 minutes ahead of scheduled pace.
After I left the aid station at Manhattan Bar, mile 43.2, I knew I was home. Nothing short of a disaster could stop me now.
The rain started falling harder and the winds were whipping through the canyons. Shortly after the aid station, without warning, a sharp pain shot through my left calf. I almost went down but kept moving. I can?t describe the feeling in my gut when that bolt of pain hit. To say that it hurt was an understatement. Was this the disaster that could stop me??
At first I thought it was a cramp so I took more E-caps and three Advil. I didn?t want to stop. All through the run I focused on relentless forward motion. When I could run, I ran. When I couldn?t run, I walked and when I now couldn?t walk, I walked anyway.
I was alone on the trail and starting to cool off and in pain; cold, wet, and limping 6 miles from the finish.
Hills were the worst. I wish I had taken that poncho.
The rain was steady and I was getting colder. Part of me wanted my running buddies, who were somewhere behind me to catch up so I could hopefully get a poncho. The other half of me didn?t want to see them. I was ahead by some unknown amount of time and wanted to keep it that way.
I started to do mental math trying to come in at my predicted time of 9:30 (actually, by my pace calculation, my arrival time was predicted to be 9:32). Just keep going.
A few people passed and offered salt tablets (I still thought I had a cramp). A few offered words of encouragement and one called me ?one tough runner?.
The last 3 miles of the trail ascend 1000 feet into Auburn. I dreaded that, but just kept going.
At the final aid station, Last Gasp, at mile 47.6, one of the volunteers said I had the best limp of the day. I just filled my water bottle and kept going. I was being passed now by ones and twos as I tried to go faster. I had resigned myself to a time of around 9:45. For some reason this hill wasn?t as bad as described; I just kept going trying to cut corners wherever I could to save a few precious seconds here and there.
As I got near the top, the crowd started to grow and more words of encouragement came. I rounded a corner and for the final push I had to get over a curb. I must have looked pretty bad as a spectator offered to help me up. I refused. No help; just me!!
The course flattened out and I began to run. I wasn?t going to come 50 miles only to walk across the finish line. Pain or not, with tears in my eyes I ran across the finishing mat in 9:33 (187/481 OA) Somehow, even limping 6 miles with a torn calf muscle I finished in my predicted time. Good enough to earn me a qualifying time for the Western States 100.
In the week that has gone by, I still can?t walk very well. There is still mild bruising and swelling and it looks like I might lose 3 or 4 toenails as well. The wounds will heal and the poison oak will clear but the experience will stay with me. Oh and my friends, well they finished from 20 to 50 minutes behind me.
Am I going to put my name in the hat for Western States?.well, like some of the other things that happened on April 14th out there along the American River, I have to keep that to myself?.for now.
Thanks--Mike
------------------
The legs feed the wolf
. 
