Running in a Winter Wonderland

Green Jewel 50k -- March 2nd, 2013 -- Cleveland, OH
"What?  You're running an ultra in Cleveland?  In March??" everyone asked when I told them about the race.  I basically shrugged it off saying, "It'll be alright," although I knew winter weather was a very real possibility.  So why sign up in the first place knowing it could be miserable conditions?  Here are my 2 main reasons:
1) I knew I would have plenty of free time in February to train. It was just good timing.
2) I wanted to run one more race before moving and starting residency - a "last hurrah," if you will. Green Jewel was the closest race and also the cheapest so that's the one I chose.
The week leading up to the race I poured over the weather forecast, hoping and praying that it would at least be dry.  Friday was not.  Light snow fell all day but didn't really stick so I held out hope that Saturday would be clear.  Nope.  Snow.  Again.  All day.  Awesome.  At times the snow was very light and barely noticeable; other times it was big fluffy flakes that caught on my eyelashes and melted all over me.  It really was quite pretty when it wasn't hitting me in the face. I complain about it but it could have been much, much worse.  Regardless of weather, there were 31 miles to be run and I was not about to back down.

Grace was kind of wandering around before the start...




...and wandered into this group of strangers.
Needless to say she found her way back to mom and dad pretty fast.

The course followed the Metropark's "all-purpose trail," a continuous paved asphalt path that runs through the greater Cleveland area. We started northwest in Lakewood and snaked our way south and east to finish in Brecksville. I've never run an ultra so close to home so there was definitely a different dynamic to the pre-race preparations. For example, I slept in my own bed Friday night (instead of a cheap hotel) and actually got a good nights sleep.  The starting time was 9:00am, relatively late for an ultra (they usually begin sometime between 5am and 7am) so it was nice to sleep in.  Jenny and the girls were able to take me to the starting line and watch us take off. It was very cold and I'm glad they had a warm car to get back into after all us masochistic runners took to the snow-covered path in sub-freezing temperatures.
The trail ran very near a road the entire distance so Jenny was able to get lots of pictures before, during and after the race.  


Trying to stay warm before the race starts

The race director was trying to give pre-race instructions
 but didn't have a megaphone and people wouldn't quiet down. 
I was straining to hear him but eventually gave up.

Just moments before they said "GO." I just wanted to get the blood flowing so my body could warm up.

I felt that my training going into the race would be adequate but not much more than that.  My spoken goal for the race was to finish in under 5 hours.  Based on last year's finishing times I thought that would be pretty good for me.  Secretly I was hoping to average 9 minute miles and finish in 4:41.  I thought that if I ran smart and pushed myself it was possible.  "Running smart" is always easier said than done.



And we're off.  I'm sure I was the only one wearing good old-fashioned sweat pants.  I'm just too cheap to buy the fancy pants and I'm not sold on the tights.

My plan was to think about the race as little as possible for at least the first 10 miles.  I just wanted to forget about what I was doing and jog along at a comfortable pace.  So at first I tried not to worry too much about pace or weather or anything that wasn't a serious concern...and I didn't have any serious concerns.  I met a really cool guy named Tim who said he was about to join the Navy; he was just waiting for medical clearance, a big deal for him.  As a child he almost drowned, suffered a resultant collapsed lung and was in a medically induced coma for several months.  Somehow he survived and was right here, running next to me in his first ultra-marathon.  Nothing short of miraculous and a testament to the power of mind over body.  Tons of respect for that man, and I wish him the best serving our country. 

Tim stopped for a breather after we passed through the first aid station and I kept going.  It was only mile 5, after all, and I was feeling fine.  I glanced at my watch and realized I was running faster than 8 minutes per mile.  But I felt absolutely fine so I didn't really worry about it.  I just wanted to breeze through the next five miles to the next aid station.  Aid station 2 was near the Rocky River Nature Center where Jenny and the kids would be spending their morning.  I'm very glad there was something close that was fun for them to do...because crewing for a runner certainly isn't any fun.

Here are a few pictures of the kiddos playing at the nature center while their crazy dad traipsed through the snow.

The plan was for my family to play at the nature center until I arrived at the aid station (mile 10).  They would come out, see how I was doing, if I needed anything before heading home to warm up until the last aid station at mile 24.5.  I told Jenny about what time I would be there and "Don't expect me faster than an 8 minute mile pace."  Problem was I was running a little too fast and actually beat Jenny to the aid station by a hair.  I looked around as I approached and didn't see her.  "Oh well," I thought, grabbed some pretzels and started to trot down the trail.  Just then I saw her parked across the street.  She had gotten both the girls out of the car and was trying to cross the street to the aid station.  Continuing down the trail I waved to her and yelled, "I'm doing good.  I love you." 
All I was thinking about was how fast I was going and how exciting it would be to smash my goal time.  A guy next to me said, "Wow, that's awesome that they all came out to see you in the cold."
"Yeah, they are awesome," I replied.  But then I started thinking and realized that I totally blew them off.  My wife came to support me in freezing temperatures, two toddlers in tow, and I didn't even have the decency to jog over, give them a hug and a kiss to say thanks.  It would have taken probably not more than one minute -- One minute when I was planning to be out there for 300.  I imagined how Jenny must have felt to see me just jog away, how Grace probably would've appreciated a hug too.  And, in hindsight, my body really could have used a break.  It was too late to do anything about it but I really started to get down on myself for blowing them off.  For the next few miles that's all I thought about and I resolved that the least I could do was to stick to my pace so they wouldn't be waiting long for me at our next rendezvous. Lesson learned: When you're running an ultra, take every chance you get to see your family.  Many races don't afford that luxury and you will always, always be bouyed up by their support.  Remeber that, Travis.
 

The next stop was around mile 15.  I was still feeling alright when I got there but I could tell I was starting to wear down.  The one thing I wanted at the aid stations was a banana but they didn't have any.  Oh well.  I grabbed something else, maybe more pretzels, refilled my water bottle and kept going.  For the most part I had been warm enough, dry enough (my feet were starting to get pretty wet, though) and relatively unfazed by the weather.  My body was starting to feel the effects of the distance though.  I kept running but I could feel my pace slowing and my head starting to fog.  The next aid station came and again I looked for that elusive banana. No luck; no fruit at all, actually. Instead I chose potato chips and they were very tasty.  I only ate a few because I knew how fatty they are and was concerned about nausea.  Probably should have had more to get some salt.  As I left the aid station I took advantage of a walk break and it felt very nice on my weary legs.  My prevailing thought was, "Man, I love aid stations."  I may or may not have said it out loud.  I couldn't wait to get to the next one.  My family would be there, and it would be the last stop before the finish.  Too bad it was 5 miles away. 
I kept moving, slowly but surely, hoping that the aid station would be around the next corner.  Then I looked up and saw the hill - the only notable hill on the course - and knew it must be at the top.  It was a big hill though and a long, hard walk to the top.  I was very tired and needed the boost of seeing my family.  I hoped they hadn't been waiting for me too long because it was cold and the wind had picked up a little bit since the start.  Jenny got an action shot of me dragging my body up the hill into the aid station.

Bethany was a trooper.  She was so cold just sitting there in the stroller

Grace rang a cowbell to cheer me on.

All the aid stations were awesome.  I never once refilled my water bottle because someone always did it for me.  So when I got to this one they had a lot of food that sounded good but unfortunately I didn't eat most of it because I knew it probably wouldn't sit too well in my stomach at this point.  They kept offering me stuff but I wasn't sure what would be best for my body.  Eventually, I settled on something salty and ate it while discussing the race with Jenny. 
I had made good time so far but was feeling pretty beat and I still had almost 7 miles to go.  The next stretch was on the road and Jenny was going to leap frog me and cheer me on at intervals as I went soI knew that would help.  This is where the "mind over matter" bit becomes important for distance runners.  I just had to use my brain to force my body to do what I wanted it to.  Because if it were up to my body I would have stopped or walked the rest of the way.

Just leaving the last aid station.
6.6 miles to the finish line.

Starting to run again...maybe.



My beautiful and talented crew captain, Jenny.  She had two pretty cute assistants too.

Leaving the aid station I walked for a little bit before starting to run (as seen in the pictures my beautiful wife was kind enough to take.)  This is where the cold really got to me.  While walking I was okay but once I started running again I was freezing cold.  Stopping at the aid station had allowed my body to cool off and running again created a bitter cold breeze that chilled me to the core.  My toes and part of my feet were completely numb and my hands felt like ice.  I pulled my shirt sleeve over my gloved hand but could only warm one hand at a time because the other hand held my water bottle.  My feet had slowly become saturated running through the snow all day and the wind made by running again completely numbed my toes.  The toe socks I was wearing did a great job preventing blisters but they didn't help my toes stay warm; if any blisters had popped up I wouldn't have felt it.  I was hoping and praying, literally, that I would finish the race without frostbite.  I don't know how long I froze like this but I knew if I kept running long enough things would start to warm up.  Sure enough, I did warm up but it took forever.
Jenny was able to take lots of pics of me along this last stretch because we were on the road where she could access us very easily.  It helped me to know that she was never too far.  I ran as much as I could but it was slow going.  Here are some pics.

 

 

There were a few other runners close by.  I'd like to say I was able to beat all of them but, truth be told, most of them finished ahead of me.  Not all, but most of them.  I don't feel too bad though because, as I'd later learn, one of the girls in the group ended up as the 5th female finisher.  

This last stretch included mile 26.2, the official marathon distance, and while it wasn't marked I knew a certain street would be roughly a marathon.  I've never run a marathon so I don't have a personal best time or anything but I couldn't help checking my watch as I came to the street.  4:06.  So with a little less time at the aid stations I may have been able to run a sub 4 hour marathon that day.  Not bad, I thought...even though the finish line was still 5 miles away.

After running on the road for almost 5 miles the course finally got back on the trail about 2 miles from the finish.  I picked up the pace because I was almost done...and because it was all downhill.  That helped.  I wanted to finish strong and knew I could.  I didn't know what my time was and didn't want to look.  Just. Finish. Strong. 

Jenny was able to get a few action photos here as well.

 

The sweet feeling when you near the finish line of a long race is hard to describe without experiencing it.  It's a mixture of emotions with the prevailing emotion dictated by how the race played out.  I felt good about my relatively strong finish, relieved that it was over and I could get warm, overwhelming gratitude to my amazing wife and kids, satisfaction about finishing in under 5 hours, and mostly victorious because I made it to the finish line and earned my finishers medal.

My official finishing time was 4:46:14, good for 37th place out of 134 finishers (Official results here).  Not bad at all.  

Was my race perfect?  No.  Will I ever run a perfect race?  Probably not.  But I hope I get a little better with each race I run. And someday I'll have that dream race where everything goes perfectly.  But even if that perfect race never comes I'll keep racing for the challenge and adventure of pushing my limits.  After all, that's what ultra-running is all about.

TNT

T'N'T...the Toughest 'N Texas trail race was held on March 16th in Cameron Park, Waco Texas. 

Even with the strong running community that exists in Waco, there are few individuals brave (or crazy) enough to attempt to run 50 kilometers on the rugged and highly technical trails of Cameron Park. 

Two years ago, I did TNT as my first ultra.  It has a special place in my heart and I looked forward to running it all year.  The problem, this year, is that in order to run TNT I would have to make the 16 hour drive back from Colorado within a couple days of the race.  No big deal really, except for the 16 hours sitting...that's not really good for the muscles.  And the sleep deprivation (we left at about 9pm).  And the junk food (honestly, who doesn't eat crap on a road trip).  OK, maybe it wasn't such a great idea.

Like any night before a race, I stayed up late preparing my gear, pinning my bib on my shorts, gathering Gu's and such.  I set my alarm for 5:30 and laid down on a lumpy sofa bed at about 12am.  Ah...the sweet five hours of sleep.

It wasn't cold as I carried my drop bag to the starting line.  The weatherman predicted temps in the high 70's--maybe even 80's.  That's hot, even for Texas in March.  I was acclimated to 45-50 degrees.  But I would much rather run in the heat than the cold, so there was no complaint from me. 

I saw some friends doing the last minute preparations as I heard someone call over a loud speaker "Seven Minute to the start of the 50K!" 

I tried to decide how much I really wanted to see where I was going.  It was still pretty dark and a headlamp would be imperative to see what the trail looked like...but I also knew that it would be light in about 20 minutes.  If I took the lamp out, I would have to carry it 10 miles until I finished my first loop.

"Forget it," I told myself.  20 minutes of vision was not worth 10 miles of annoyance.  I stuffed the lamp back into my bag.

"Alright guys.  50K runners line up.  We have three minutes."

CRAP.  I still had my long sleeve shirt and sweat pants on.  I hurriedly stripped.
CRAP.  I might want to listen to music along the trail.  I should put my MP3 player...just in case.
CRAP.  I didn't have any GU's handy.  I should really carry some of those.  Where the heck did I put those...

"50K...Get ready...10...9...8...7..."

Forget the Gu's.  I jumped to the back of the starting line feeling that despite staying up too late I might could have prepared better for this.

"GO!!!!"

No matter how many times you do it, you never get over the thrill of pouncing off a starting line with a group of runners who are as dedicated and crazy about the sport as you.  I tucked in behind a group with bright lights.  These first 20 minutes would be rough.

By three miles the darkness dispelled.  The lead group was long gone...which was ok.  I wasn't getting sucked into someone Else's race.  I felt pretty good as I trotted up a hill and into the first aid station.  It was there I saw one of the lead runners sitting on the ground, his ankle swollen to the size of a cantaloupe.  I met him the day before at packet pickup.  He flew in from Colorado for the race.  I  expressed my condolences, pounded his fist and headed back down the trail.

I know these trails.  This is my playground.  I floated up and charged down the steep inclines...being careful to not overdue it too early.

10 miles passed like a fleeting dream.  I felt good and began to think I might do alright in this race.  I hardly paused at the aid station. 

The sun started to burn by this point.  I was thankful for the strong wind which kept me somewhat cool.  Still, I was concerned because my fingers were swelling.  I couldn't remember if swelling meant I needed more water or salt.  Not that it really mattered.   I didn't have any salt.
Trucking into the aid station, I asked for advice..."I'm swelling.  Do I need water or salt?" I asked.

"How much are you drinking?" the attendant asked.

"I drink one of these," I said, holding up my handheld water bottle (16 oz) "between each station (3 miles)."

"Get some salt."

I ate potato chips.  They were AWESOME.  Salt was my problem.  I also noticed that I was cramping...another sign of running low on electrolytes.  Not wanting to waste too much time at the aid station, I grabbed another handful of chips, expressed my thanks, and dove back into the bushes. 

I ran the next three miles alone, feeling myself slip deeper and deeper into a state of semi exhaustion.  It was at this point I ran though a clearing, looked up through the trees into the blue sky and thought once again how awesome it was to run through the woods.  To be so blessed with a healthy body and to witness the beautiful creations.  I felt the love of God singing to my soul though the trees and wind and rocks and dirt and...

Oh my gosh! Is that a BEAR?

A small part in my brain said, No way.  Bears don't live in Cameron Park.  But my eyes saw a HUGE, black, hairy, beast sitting not 20 yards away in the trees.  I tried to stop but my legs were on autopilot.

"Good Morning," a friendly voice called.

Surely bears don't talk, I thought.

I looked up to see a man holding a leash.  This was good.  I wouldn't have to out run the bear...just the other man...
But when I looked back to the huge, hairy beast, it had transformed to a small, friendly dog.  I think I just entered the phase of hallucinations.  I have run much farther than before with no hallucinations, although I knew it wasn't uncommon.  I never had attempted a run like this on 5 hours sleep in the last three days.  This, I had a feeling, was about to get interesting.

"Your in 5th place," the aid station attendant called out.  He was trying to help...let me know where I stood, encourage me and what not.  But I wish he hadn't.

Fifth place...Just pick off two more and you'll place, that competitive voice in my brain chirped, sucking me into someone Else's race.  Another fellow runner, who was doing a shorter race that morning pulled out of the aid station.  He was flying.  I had competed against this guy a few times in other races and knew we were pretty evenly matched.  I tried to keep up with him and we chatted for  a few miles (once he realized that I wasn't competition today). 

By twenty miles, I gave up hope of placing.  The goal would now be survival.  My exhausted body struggled to stay upright.  I stumbled more with each mile.  It was only a matter of time, I knew, before I face planted and just hoped I would make it out with all my teeth in tact.

At the next aid station, I was greeted with the sweetest sight. 
"Come on, Babe.  You're looking great!" Mindi called.  I knew she was lying, but it was good to see her.  I dropped to the ground and dumped some tiny rocks out of my shoes.
"I'm tired." I confessed.  But this was a crowd of no sympathy.  I knew what I was getting into when I signed up, they told me as I was pushed back onto the trail.

I pressed on, step by step, mile by mile.  I had run these hills a million times but I couldn't for the life of me remember them being so freakin' steep and challenging.  Try as I might, I couldn't run for more than a quarter mile without needing to stop and walk to catch my breath.

Step by step; mile by mile.  I rounded a corner and realized that I was less than a mile away from the finish.  I pushed on.  As I cleared the top of the hill my legs completely gave out.  I lay on the trail, summoning the strength and will to continue.

"Are you Ok?" another runner asked as he rounded the corner.

I mumbled something in Ultrarunner, "Gurgle garb."  (That means "If you don't see me cross the finish line in an hour send someone back for my body.")

He understood.

I tried to get up and follow him but crashed back down as the world spun out of control.  "I'll wait another minute."

I focused my breathing and braced myself against a tree.  Slowly but surely I made it to my feet.  Step by step.  My legs shook but stabilized as I increased speed.

The finial climb of our loop is a stair case known as Jacob's Latter. 

I climbed the first ten steps before falling to my hands and knees and crawling. 
"Are you tired?" a small child asked as he passed with his parents.  I laughed to myself, noting that comment as the understatement of the day.  The runner behind me (who I had just passed) elaborated, "We've just run 30 miles and climbed these stairs 3 times.  Yeah.  We're tired."

I crossed the finish line six hours and 34 minutes after starting...more than 10 minutes faster than my previous time.

T'N'T...the aptly named Toughest 'N Texas.  I didn't donate as much blood to the trail gods as other races.  I didn't suffer pain like other runs.  I did hallucinate for the first time (I think I saw big bird out there in addition the bear/dog).  It wasn't the farthest or the hardest.  But it was one heck of  a race.

My favorite part of this race was being on the trails I train on with friends.  It was awesome to see friends and fellow Striders out on the course and cheering each other on.  There are too many indiviuals to attempt to name them here, for fear of leaving someone out, but I want to say thanks to all the great people I met, saw, and ran with (or in a few cases, behind) on the trails. 

I also need to give a HUGE thanks to my wife and ever supporting crew, which consists on my 4 kids.  You guys give me the motivation I need to keep going step by step, mile by mile.