It's a common enough story- my first 50k wasn't exactly an easy experience (you can read about it
here), and yet there I was a day later reminiscing fondly and planning for another race. I'm sure part of it is the excitement of the challenge and the soft edges of memory, but a good chunk has to be attributed to plain wishful thinking. I've always tried to be very calculated and conservative in my approach to running, but when training distances by necessity fall far short of what you run in the race itself, it can be difficult to manage your expectations and stay on track. Ultra brought with it my bizarro self.
In the few months leading up to the Beast of Burden 50, I developed a problem with an achilles tendon. Being a new injury to me (and the first I'd had in 2 years), I was hesitant to really dig in and work on it. I ought to have known better- had previously
learned better. But I went straight for the outdated RICE protocol. I mean, some rest is a good idea, but movement, compression, soft tissue work- these are the things that'd kept injury at bay. So after two weeks and no improvement I woke up, went to the compression band, the rolling pin, the eccentric exercises. No anti-inflammatories,
NO ICE. And a couple of weeks later I could run 3 hours, then 4 hours. I was feeling good about my progress, and not thinking too hard about having only put together a few 50 mile weeks, and two long runs(20,27). Even then I might've been ok if I'd adpoted a much more conservative strategy, but with so much unknown, I just elected to start out easy and walk as needed. At least I got my gear dialed in.
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| I am in dark red |
Race day dawned with temps in the 20s and wind out of the west at about 10mph. The vast majority of the course is on the Erie Canal towpath from Lockport to Middleport (12.5 miles and almost completely flat), and although long sections were clear, there were significant patches of uneven ice and snow. Still, it was simple enough to keep up a good easy pace. I ran with buddy/competitor Will Kolek and we worked on keeping it relaxed, but still we were clocking 8:35/mi. I would come to regret this. Dani was waiting to swap bottles for me at the turnaround, but we were in and out pretty quickly.
---> Leg 1 of 4 - 1:54
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| Will is in light red |
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The second leg I ran with Will again. The wind comes right down the canal at you on the way back, something I'd prepared for with a neoprene facemask with a hole cut for easier breathing (awesome) and a pair of ski goggles (didn't use). There weren't any gusts to speak of, just a consistent 10-15mph bitter wind in your face. Still at easy effort, we had slowed to around 9:00/mi. I was starting to feel like I'd need to change up some shirts, but that stuff was all back at the Middleport turnaround, so I'd have to wait till mile 37. My nutrition was mostly Tailwind with some caffeinated gels for backup, and it was going ok, but it was becoming difficult to drink as much as I needed to get the calories in with 250cal/18oz bottle. If I were to do it again (I won't. Not this one, anyway) with these temps I think I'd go with 350, despite what the literature says. Around mile 22 I was starting to tire, and knew it was too early to be feeling this way. No freakouts, but then, no plan either. We reached the Lockport end and seeing Dani and friends briefly lifted my spirits as I picked up pacer Charlie, but I ran into and walked out of that aid station.
---> Leg 2 of 4 - 2:02
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| Mixing Tailwind is serious business |
At this point, knowing that I was only halfway there was kind of daunting. The feeling was not unlike the last loop at Mendon, but having a
lot longer to go. I didn't want to run, but Charlie did his level best to keep coaxing me into it. Around 30 miles I got so confused and tired, my eyes starting to close, and I slowly became dimly aware that finally, finally I had reached a personal goal. Bonnnnk. And whose fault is that, anyway? Yeah. Right here. It sucked, and I didn't have anything else to take in, let alone the wherewithal to ask Charlie for something. But he did get me to keep picking it up. So it was run walk run walk run walk BROTH. Ah, broth, restorer of my soul. I loved the folks at the Gasport aid station. They also had apple cinnamon Hammer gels. After that, things got a bit better, but I tried not to think about the final stretch.
---> Leg 3 of 4 - 2:27
I picked up Dani for the last leg,
finally got some new clothes on and another cup of broth in me and was feeling good for the first half mile, though of course it didn't last. The headwind was a constant companion and it just wasn't possible to walk for very long without the chill creeping in. It was getting darker, and sleet began to fall. We arrived back at Gasport with ice buildup, and it certainly wasn't going to get better. Dani was convinced that the impromptu run-walking was hurting more than helping, and I had to agree that it hurt most to walk- I just couldn't
sustain a run. So she hatched a plan to grind it out, we're talking 10:30 pace here, and actually reminded me to slow if I started to pick it up. And you know what? It worked. I could handle the pain level of the grind, even if muttering, "I can do it," incessantly was part of the package. I squinted ahead into the darkness and sleet, the way on barely illuminated by our too-dim headlamps, and entered a timeless space. It was better not to think of what had come before or what was ahead. I thought to myself, "There is only now. Only myself and her, only this slow churning ahead through the darkness, only icandoit icandoit icandoit."
And then the light, cutting through the darkness down the canal. Wide Waters. The finish. All that's left is to go down to the lift bridge and back up the other side. 2 miles. It felt like forever, but she actually got me to pick it up for the last mile, and you know what? I was fine. I thought of Ray Garraty in
The Long Walk, at the end of all of this still finding more within. There's always more, it seems. And help as well. Even when we do it all wrong.
--->Leg 4 of 4 - 2:24
Finish time - 8:47:19 - 10th place - C goal met
p.s. Will beat me by half an hour!
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| Captain BNAC and the Middleport Mustachio, with pacer extraordinaire Dani shedding some light |
*Photos 1+2 by Dan Salmons, 3 by Adam Hudson, 4 by Sarah Anderson, 5 + 6 by Jay Lang
