YUTC 50k 2014

On Sept 13, 2014 I ran in the tenth annual YUTC 50k race in Youngstown's Mill Creek Park.  Since moving to Youngstown I have spent a lot of time on the trails in the park so it was fun to race on my home trails. 
It was the 10th annual running of the YUTC race and it was also my 10th ultramarathon.  Since 2011 I have run six 50k races, three 50 mile races and one 24hr run of 65 miles.  The only race I have done more than once is YUTC.  It's my home turf now so I really enjoy it.
My goal going into the race was to beat last year's time.  I did pretty well last year so I knew it was going to be a challenge.  I probably wasn't as ready as I could have or should have been, but I have a habit of running races that way.
Rather than a formal, detailed race report, this will be more of a brief summary with some pictures.
Here goes:

The race started and we all headed out on the familiar path, along the road, up the stairs then onto the trail.  After hitting the first aid station the packs seemed to separate quite a bit and I found myself basically alone.  It felt like a routine Saturday morning run on my usual trails.  It was kind of strange and unexpected but nice in a way.  My watch kept track of my pace for me and I stayed right where I needed to be.  I was just hoping I could keep it up through the second half of the race.

Coming down the hill to the covered bridge aid station after doing the Lake Newport loop.

Just crossing over the covered bridge, approaching the aid station.  We hit this aid station several times throughout the race so I have no idea if this picture is near the beginning, middle or end of the race.  Sorry it's blurry.  Many of these above pictures are courtesy of the race's facebook page.

So I felt pretty good for the first half of the race.  My split was 2:50 or so at the half-way point, so I was happy with that.  The second half of the race consisted of two loops around the northern lakes.  After the first one I started to feel a little nauseated but I knew there wasn't a lot of distance left to the race so I kept the same pace as best I could.  The covered bridge aid station came through for me again with Dr. Pepper (just like last year) and I drank a cup before losing it off the side of the trail about a quarter mile later.  Emptying my stomach did make me feel much better though, and I was glad for that.  It helped me keep my pace up and power into the finish line.  Jenny, Grace and Bethany were waiting for me at the end and Jenny was kind enough to snap a few pictures.

Here are a few pictures of me approaching the finish line

At the finish line.  You can see my super-fast time on the clock.

Last year my finish time was 5:48 so I was very happy do better this year.  My official finish time for 2014 was 5:42:59, good for 18th place.  I'll take it.

I love to see my girls cheering me on at the finish line.  Bethany loved my water bottle and wanted to taste whatever it was that I was drinking.

My nausea was only temporarily relieved on the trail and I was still feeling pretty queasy at the end but thankfully, no more throw-up.  I did have to take it easy for a while though.

Bethany tending to me

I was feeling a little less-than stellar after finishing so most of the food was "to-go," to be eaten after my stomach settled.

The scene at the start/finish area.  Yes, I'm still sitting there trying to get settled a little bit before heading home.

After running this race three times and putting in countless training miles on the trails in Mill Creek Park, YUTC has a special place in my heart and will for a long time.  I call them "my trails" now.  If you're ever in Youngstown in September you should really consider running it.  And if it's not September you can give me a call and we'll hit the trails together.  I promise you'll enjoy it.

Coming into the finish line.  I love this picture.  Thanks, Jenny for taking it and for always waiting for me at the finish line.  You're the best.

Buckeye Buster 50 Mile Race

The Buckeye Buster 50 mile trail race was my first ultra of 2014.  I didn't expect it to be easy but there were lots of things that combined to make it possibly my most difficult ultra yet.
The day was Saturday, July 7th and it started with my alarm at 3:45am.  The race was 2 hours away and I was driving myself.  That was probably my first mistake.  I've done this before with 50k races, no problem.  I won't do it again for a 50 miler.

Jenny knew she couldn't come so she made
this poster for me to take along

The race was run in Ohio's Salt Fork state park.  It was a 10.4 mile loop repeated 5 times.  The cutoff time listed on the website was 11 hours.  My fastest 50 mile time to date was more than 12 hours.  So I knew it was a tall order but I had done some math with my recent training runs and figured that as long as I could stay close to a 12 minute mile pace I could make it.
So here is how things went down.
First loop: 1:57:57
Everything felt fine, of course.  I settled in behind a group of runners.  We were going a little slower than I had hoped to go but I didn't want to push it so early in the race.  One of the main topics of discussion was the 11 hour cutoff and whether or not we would be able to make it.  It seemed that the consensus was what I had come up with -- to shoot for 2 hours per loop, 12 minute miles; that would be a 10 hour finish, giving some wiggle room for the later stages of the race.
As I came in to the aid station at mile 6 I felt hungry, which worried me a little bit.  They say if you start feeling hungry it's too late.  So I ate a PB&J square, some chips and was feeling pretty good leaving the aid station.  After the aid station the group I had been with separated and I came up behind a girl who had some experience with this race and many other ultras.  I asked her if she thought 11 hours was a reasonable cutoff and she immediately said "definitely not."  She said she had asked the race director about it at packet pickup and he told her they would keep the course open for 12 hours, longer if they had to.  That was good news for me, but I was still planning on shooting for 11 hours.
Second loop: 2:02:18
I finished my first lap just a few minutes before the start of the 10 mile race so I knew they would be flying past me soon.  Sure enough they came, but after the first group of speedsters passed I kind of settled in with some of them.  I tried to basically keep the pace from the first lap and made it close enough. My race time was right at 4 hours and that's just where I wanted to be.  No real problems...yet.
Third loop: 2:08:22

 

I was feeling alright as I started out for the third loop.  I was just trying to stick to that 12 minute mile pace as I went out.  Before long I came up behind a guy who I had seen earlier.  I ran behind him for a while and we chatted.  I think it was his first ultra experience and he was doing great.  So many awesome people that you meet at these races -- that's one benefit of of a course with multiple laps, you see the other runners more frequently and get to know them better.
My pace did slow somewhat during this loop, maybe because the dang horseflies were furiously attacking my head on the grassy part of the course.  No matter how much I swatted them they persisted in dive-bombing into my hair.  It was a lot of fun.  That and the heat/humidity all contributed to wearing me out pretty good by the time I finished that loop.  Then I made the mistake of considering the fact that if I had registered for 50k, I would be done now.  Oops.  That definitely didn't make the last 20 miles any easier...

Somewhere in the 3rd loop, I think.  Steve Pierce is the professional photographer who kindly covered the race.  He did a great job. See all the race photos here.

Fourth loop: 2:45:47
This loop was rough...really rough.  All race, I knew that if I was going to get into trouble it would happen in the 4th loop.  Sure enough, as I began the last 20 miles my stomach began voicing its protest to what I was doing.  It felt like nothing I ate was clearing my stomach.  I wasn't getting any benefit from eating because it was just sitting in my stomach, sloshing around and making me nauseous.  The water in my bottle was tasting bad too, like stale plastic,  making it difficult to stay hydrated.  My legs were aching, but not worse than I expected or had experienced before.  I started walking...a lot. The heat was taking its toll and I was getting dehydrated.  Problem was, the water in my bottle was nasty and I felt that drinking it would only make me more likely to vomit.  Vomiting doesn't usually help with hydration issues.  I forced myself to take sips here and there but probably drank less than half the bottle in the 6 long, slow miles before the aid station.  They said it was 6 miles anyway, but I'm pretty sure they stretched it out to 10 or 12.  Either way, as I walked the road section leading to the aid station I knew I was in bad shape.
When I finally got there, I emptied my bowels (which did make me feel a little better), got some soda and sat in the shade.  I just needed a few minutes to collect myself before going out again.  The hardest part was NOT thinking about the fact that I still had 14 miles to go.  Another first time ultra-runner who I had run with earlier in the race came in and sat down by me on the grass.  He was having some knee problems but his stomach was fine.  He actually ate some pizza which made me a little jealous.  As I was getting to the bottom of my pepsi cup I heard the people at the table talking about the cutoff.  By now I knew that 11 hours was out of the question but I was hoping to finish in 12, if they let me.  "Yeah, we'll probably pull 'em if they don't start the last loop by about 4:20," I heard them say.  It was 3:00pm.  Time to go, I guess.  We both got up off the grass and started down the road.  We ran together for the next 4 miles to the start finish area, complaining about cutoff-times and other issues we had with the race.  Some of our complaints were probably justified, others were not, but we were both exhausted and the conversation kept our minds occupied until finally the start-finish area came into view.
Fifth loop: 2:30:25
At the aid station I asked the timing guy what my split was for that loop.  I wanted to know if it was reasonable to expect I could finish in under 12 hours or not.  He looked at me and said, "Just go, you're fine.  Just start your last lap."  He told me they weren't going to pull people as long as we were moving and it wasn't dark out.  I assured him I'd be done before dark, he told me my split and I went on my way, after re-fuelling with pepsi.  That's the only thing I trusted in my stomach. 
Somehow, I was feeling a little better.  "Run what you can," I told myself.  It became a mantra and I focused on that thought, running almost everything that was flat or downhill.  The 6 miles to the aid station dragged on and on and on.  I was passed by my friend from the end of the 4th lap (I had left the aid station a while before him).  He was apparently doing much better because he was flying and ended up finishing almost 20 minutes ahead of me.  Somewhere along the way I downed a Gu because I was desperate for fuel.  Maybe it helped, maybe not but I needed something to keep me moving until I could get more pepsi at the aid station.  Finally, after what seemed like forever, I came out onto the road and made my way to the aid station.  There, I drank some soda, said thanks to the excellent volunteers (who had been there all day, no replacements) and began the home-stretch, repeating to myself, "run what you can" over and over.
I wanted to finish strong, running as much as I could of those last 4 miles but my body was pretty well spent.  I ran what I could but it wasn't much more than I had run the first 6 miles of the loop.  Mentally, it was a huge boost knowing that I was approaching the finish line.  11 hours came and went, and I found myself wondering if I could finish in 11:30.  The way I felt, I thought "probably not."  But I kept running where I could and hoping for the best.  When I finally turned the corner out of the trees to see the parking lot ahead I was determined to power in to the finish line.  My muscles, however, didn't agree.  They had been abused and starved for most of the day and finally were protesting by cramping.  With every step I could feel my calves knotting up.  I've never had bad cramps during a race before, but I've also never been this dehydrated.  I just needed them to hold on until I crossed that finish line.  And, thankfully, they did.  Altering my gait a bit, I was able to keep running/hobbling to the end.
No matter how good, bad, or ugly a race may be, few things are as sweet as crossing that finish line.
As I crossed the finish line I dropped my bottle (per tradition) and walked to the steps to sit down. I felt relieved that it was over, happy that I earned my medal and didn't quit, and worried about my body recovering.  I was also very thankful to God for blessing me with a healthy body to be able to run, and for creating a beautiful world that I was blessed to spend all day admiring.

Finishing time: 11:27:51

Crossing the finish line

I sat like this for quite a while after finishing

After crossing the finish line I sat on the steps for a good long while.  The volunteer there was very kind to give me a cold wet paper towel to cool-off with.  She also offered to take some pictures for me because she knew I was there by myself. 

Cool medal, huh?

Eventually, I decided I should start heading home.  I went inside to use the bathroom and ended up emptying my stomach as well.  I'll spare you the details of the trip home but I was very dehydrated and it was a long time before I was able to keep anything down.  At least the nausea helped me stay awake on the way home...
Everything that happened during the race and after combined to make this race my most difficult ultra-running experience yet.  Is it going to keep me from running or racing?  Not a chance.

There you have it, the Buckeye Buster 50 mile race.  Certainly busted my buckeyes. 
Thanks for reading.
Happy trails. 

Pacing the Beast

So, I have been very busy lately, and the only thing less frequent than my running work outs has been my posting on this blog, but I wanted to write about this experience.  

Months ago my brother Jason extended the invitation to enter the Rocky Raccoon 100 mile race with him. I had previous commitments that would not allow me to participate but Jason,  despite the threats from his loving friends and family to have him admitted to the psych ward,  still signed up for the activity that would likely confirm our suspicions that he is in fact a danger to himself.   

I woke up early on the morning of the race, procrastinating going into work, and decided to watch the live video feed from Jason's race.  This was an unbelievable feature that made me converted me instantly to a huge supporter of this particular race.  I cannot explain the hypnotizing power that it had over me, but I found myself glued to the computer monitor, anxiously watching for any signs of race activity.  After 45 minutes of my trance-like monitoring of the computer screen, the real excitement began as the first racers came into view.  My fascination with watching then transformed to a full-blown obsession and I began opening several different Internet pages to be able to monitor all the different aid stations that were being broadcast.  The longer I watched, vaguely aware that this type of behavior may lead to a restraining order in some cases, my enthusiasm grew.  I was able to peel myself away just long enough to go to work and take care of my duties, then I returned to my couch potato-like state.

 In a phenomenon that can only be understood by one who has been infected by the soul-consuming disease of long distance running, I began to be jealous of the participants of the race that continued to drag themselves limping, moaning and vomiting mile after painful mile.  I saw Jason come to the aid station and he looked exactly as one might think for a man who had run almost 40 miles and was still not halfway finished.  He looked tired, discouraged and puzzled as to how he had convinced himself that this would be fun.  With the same good judgment that had possessed Jason to subject himself to this activity, I came up with a perfect plan, that despite my objective scrutinizing, had no flaws in it:  I would make a spur of the moment 2.5 hour drive to the race, surprise my fatigued brother, run 20 miles with him until 2 AM, then drive home just in time to get an hour and a half of sleep before dashing out the door to church meetings (yep, still seems like a flawless plan).   

Next thing I know, I’m making the drive to Huntsville TX to work as a pacer for Jason.  I arrived around 6:30 at night, just after nightfall and right around the time Jason was coming up to about mile 55 or so. I had had just enough time to find Jason’s wife Mindi, who gave me a quick update. He had not slept well the night before, today had eaten very little because everything tasted eerily similar to dog feces, and he had been wearing the same shirt for the past 12 hours despite that fact that the humidity had caused even the most idle of spectators to sweat through their clothing. He came jogging into the aid station, his eyes focused on me and I like to think he confused me for an angel from on high for a few minutes.  His eyes lit up and the only thing that prevented him from a series of celebratory backflips was the fact that he had run more than two consecutive marathons and he was still just over half way done.    I had just arrived and thought I would still have 30 minutes or so to get ready so I was dressed in a T-shirt and exercise pants.  He informed me that if I was ready I could start pacing him right then.  Desperately wishing I owned some snap off clothes that would have made the moment much more dramatic, I hurriedly pulled off the exercise pants to reveal my old basketball shorts.  My technical running shirt was safely waiting for me on my couch at home, so the old T shirt I was in would have to do for the first little bit.  I quickly bent down to double knot my shoes, counted that as my stretching/warm up, and off we went.  We had about 4 miles before the next aid station and we spent this time discussing what he would need next time we stopped.  We covered the 4 miles in a surprisingly fast 40 minutes using a strategy of running for 10 minutes then walking for 5.  As soon as we walked in to the aid station we started functioning like a pit crew.  Mindi pushed supplies into our hands, and clean shirts, new socks and band aids to cover Jason’s newly forming blisters were quickly applied.  I surveyed the supply tables and was astounded at the buffet of nourishment available.  There was fruit, sandwiches, tortillas, soup, candy, chips and every beverage known to mankind, including some wine for those who wanted to partake.  I contemplated briefly telling Jason I would hang out near the food and catch him next time around but my loyalty overcame my gluttony and we started off again.

There are always high and low points on any run and we certainly had our fair share of both.  There was the stint where we had to stop every couple of minutes to stretch out cramping muscles.  We made the best of it by turning it into a little game where we tried to make it from one tree to another without having to crawl.  It became considerably more difficult when the trees began to be spaced out more than 6 feet but we managed.  I think we began setting a trend because just as we were growing tired of playing, we passed another pair of runners limping to the nearest tree to stretch out their calves.  Then there were the unbearable roots that seemed to also have been extended the instruction of multiply and replenish the earth.  The trail was covered with roots that made it so every step had to made with care.  When we would let our guard down, or simply not have the strength to lift our feet the 2 inches required for clearance, we would stumble.  I’m not sure if I can accurately describe the electric shock of pain that travels from the toes throughout every extremity of the body, or the excruciating agony that comes from every exhausted muscle tensing in an attempt to keep from hitting the ground, but I do think that by the end of the race,  the trails were lined with disappointed wolves searching for the source of the desperate mating calls that had filled the night. 

The miles passed by steadily as offered encouragement and quick conversation to all those we passed. As the time neared midnight the trails became noticeably less populated and multiple times we were passed by pickups full of people who made the dreaded DFN list.  Our pace transitioned to walking more than running but the fact that we were still passing other racers was a consolation.    Our conversations drifted from inspirational shouts of encouragement, to random memories, to incoherent babbling to break the silence, to deep intimate insights that can only be shared by brothers running 100 miles through the middle of the night.  As the hours wore on, my admiration for my brother grew.  He had been running for 18 hours straight with very little sleep the night before.  Occasionally he would reach out and grab my shoulder for support.  His eyes would close for a few precious moments and as I navigated both of us through the course I was filled with a pride that I was somehow helping my brother achieve the near impossible.  

Somehow, the time seemed to fly by and before I knew it, we were finishing a 20 mile loop.  It was nearly 2:30 AM and I knew I couldn’t stay any longer if I wanted any chance of making it to my meetings that started in 5 short hours. I hugged Jason and told him how impressed I was and watched as he disappeared into the night.  I was awestruck for a few moments.  My brother was almost 80 miles in and still going.  He was going to finish 100 miles. 

I have read that being a pacer for an ultra is a terrible job.  It is very difficult to find someone to run through the late hours of the night, be on the receiving end of substantial verbal abuse, and have to put their own discomfort on the backburner while they ensure their runner has everything they need, all the while knowing they don’t get so much as a participators T-shirt for their efforts.  What you don’t hear as much about is the unspoken gratitude, the sense of fulfillment for selflessly supporting a loved one accomplish an almost unattainable goal, or the bond that will always be cherished.  I would do it all again in a heartbeat. 

For anyone who missed seeing Jason live while running his debut 100 mile race last weekend here is a little clip of it.  This is him coming into the start/finish area after his first 20 miles.  I thought it was an awesome feature to have live video feed of the race from 3 different aid stations.  It made it so friends and family could "support" their runners despite not being able to make it to the race.  Way to go, Rocky Racoon and Ultrasportslive.  We fans appreciate it.
And a hearty congratulations to Jason who completed the race in just over 29 hours. He was one of 486 who started the race and one of 279 finishers. What an accomplishment.

Nu Race 2013 50k

This isn't going to be the best race report ever but I wanted to get something put on here before it never happens. Jenny and the girls stayed home so there aren't many great pics but I'll give you what I have from the race website.

Sunrise on race day at Nu Race 2013

So I was looking for one more race to do in 2013 before the twins came and I came across a race I had never heard of called the Nu-Race trail run.  The race is a fund-raiser for camp NuHop, a summer camp for kids with learning disabilities and other special needs.  It is held in Mohican State Park, the site of my first ultra in 2011.  It sounded like a good cause and a convenient time for me so I decided to go for it.  Plus, those trails were incredible and I had not been back there since my initiation to ultra-marathons.
It was not a big race, and I was ok with that.  There were plenty of people signed up for the 5k and 25k but only about 25 signed up for 50k, and only 19 of us actually showed up for the race.
Being November in Ohio, it was cold when we started.  The sun was up but it was covered by clouds and temperatures were right around freezing.  The skies cleared later on and it warmed up and turned out to be really nice weather.  The first half-hour the course was pretty crowded because of all the 5k and 25k runners but it thinned out before too long.  Mohican has some of the prettiest trails I've ever run but in November the ground is completely covered with leaves.  It added some difficulty not being able to see the actual ground and I was worried it would be soggy under all the leaves.  It turned out to be not too bad -- a handful of mushy spots but really pretty decent.
The first half of the race I was not worried about racing.  My goal was just to maintain a good solid pace and, most importantly, not get lost.  It was marked pretty well but I'm still always concerned about losing the trail.  Thankfully I was able to stay on track most of the race.  The spacing of the aid stations was a little funny with the first stop about 7 miles into the race.  The others were quite a bit closer together than that and I had my handheld water and gu so it wasn't a big deal.
 The first 25k went by fairly quickly and I felt pretty good.  I just did my best to run my own race and enjoy the trails.  Coming into the start/finish area at the half-way point the clock was about 3:05.  A volunteer told me I was in 8th place.  "Not bad," I thought.  "Hopefully I can hold that spot and maybe even pass a couple people.  I might be able to finish in the top 5." My main goal was to have an even split, to finish around 6:10, and definitely not get passed by anyone.

That's what you look like after running 25k,
only to turn around and do it again.

As I headed back out onto the course I missed a turn initially but caught it pretty quickly and only lost a couple minutes.  By this point the trails were pretty empty.  After the first few miles I was alone nearly the entire time, which was fine because I was trying to run MY race anyway.  Maintaining my pace and not getting passed were my main goals.  As I passed through the aid stations the volunteers would tell me what place I was in, which was a new experience for me; I've never been close enough to the top for it to really matter what place I was.  After a couple stops I was surprised to hear I was 5th place.  Then I passed another guy and settled into 4th.  I had no idea where the next runner was but I couldn't resist fantasizing about a top 3 finish.  Even in a small race that's pretty cool.  So, still running my race but now very focused, I kept on.  I approached the next aid station knowing I was still in 4th place. 
"The 3rd place guy left about 5 minutes ago," they reported.  I felt great and knew I was gaining on him so I felt good about my chances of catching him.  I hustled down the trail, keeping my eyes ahead of me, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mr. 3rd place.  I didn't see anything until I crested a hill just before crossing a road the the next aid station, the last aid station.  I thought I saw someone just starting down the trail out of the aid station.  Not sure if it was him, I didn't want to get my hopes up too high.  I crossed the road and came to the aid station where one of the volunteers told me that 3rd place had just left about a minute ago.  It was him.  And I was going to catch him.  I grabbed some pretzels, said thanks and got about my business of finishing the race.  This part of the trail was gorgeous as it led up to breathtaking Lyon's Falls.  There were a lot of non-racers walking the trails, enjoying the scenery, so I had to skirt around quite a few other people; I still hadn't seen 3rd place as I approached the falls.  But as I came out of the trees and the falls came into view I saw him.  He was on his way up the newly constructed staircase that led up and away from the base of the falls where I was.  I turned to follow him up the stairs and he must have seen me because he paused on the next landing he came to and let me pass.  "3rd place is all yours," he said as I passed.  "You're going way faster than me.  Way to go.  It's all you." 
I was Mr. 3rd place now.  All I could really say was thanks and offer some encouragement to him too.  Ultra-runners are some of the coolest people you'll ever meet.  There were still about 3 miles to go and I knew he wasn't completely out of gas so I still had to push myself as hard as I could the rest of the way. 
There wasn't much of a crowd left as I climbed the last hill and did my best sprint imitation to the finish line, throwing my water bottle in the air in celebration.  My official finishing time was 6:08:20, good for 3rd place. 

Talking with the RD before heading home

After finishing I went to the canopy to sit and eat some chili.  I was just hanging out, chatting with the other runners still around when someone came up to me with a hand-made 3rd place trophy.  "I wanted to make sure you got this before you left," she said, handing it to me.  I had no idea they had any sort of awards.  It's actually a very cool trophy that is now proudly displayed on the custom medal rack/shelf that my dad built for me as a Christmas gift.  I am now an award-winning ultra runner.  Pretty cool. 

My awesome trophy.
I have no idea why they call it "Fuzzy Fandango."

Post-race with the shirt and award

 


















Overall, I was really impressed with this race.  It's always nice to know that you're contributing to a good cause with races like this.  The course was marked well, the trails were stunning, the volunteers were great, and the competition was very, very classy.  Definitely a race I will do again if I can.

This is the shelf my dad built with all my race bling displayed. 
There's Mr. NuRace proudly displayed on top.