It has been almost two months now since Jason and I ran the Outrun 24 hour trail race in Kirtland, OH. I meant to write up something while the details were still fresh in my mind but you know how life gets busy. Anyway, here's the story of my race.
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Where's Batman? See if you can spot us. |
Jason and Jessica flew in late Thursday night. We spent Friday hanging out, showing them around Mill Creek Park, and resting for our big race.
Saturday morning we left Youngstown around 5am to drive to Kirtland. When we arrived we got our packets, set up a tent, and waited, with the 160 other runners, for the race to start.
For those of you who don't know how they do these kinds of races, it is a 1-mile course that you run repeatedly as many times as you can in 24 hours. Sounds awful, right? That's what I thought before I ran O24 in 2013. To my surprise, I actually really enjoyed it and was looking forward to running it again, this time with my brother.
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We started at 8am under sunny skies, temperatures around 50 degrees. It warmed up quickly and was a beautiful day for the race.
My plan was to hold a 12 min/mile as long as I could, up to 60 miles. That would put me at 60 miles in 12 hours. I could then drop to 16 min/mile for the next 20 miles and 20 min/mile for the last 20 miles. That math works out to exactly 100 miles in exactly 24 hours. As long as I didn't go any slower than that, I would be alright.
Jason and I ran together for almost the first 40 miles. At first we were pacing just over 11 minutes per mile. It felt a little too fast for me and a little too slow for him I think, but we managed a compromise and stayed together for the most part.
We didn't know if she would be able to come or not so that was a nice welcome surprise. It is always a morale-booster to see my family when I'm racing. She took lots of pictures so I'll include as many as I can. I know that's why everyone looks at blogs anyway, for the pictures.
Just before they came is when Jason and I first got separated. We were both starting to have some nausea troubles, him worse than me. It was slowing both of us down a bit and becoming really annoying. I thought maybe I had been eating too much so I tried to eat less and that seemed to help but it took at least a couple hours for my stomach to completely settle. Thankfully it did and I was able to keep racing. Jason was not so fortunate. Eventually, his gastrointestinal tract completely mutinied and he had a very rough night. But I'll let him tell that story if he wants to.
I hit 50 miles in 10:20 or so, a little slower than I had hoped, but also my fastest 50 mile time yet. At that point I was just trying not to think about running another 50 miles. Easier said than done. As the sun went down the temperature dropped a little bit but it stayed pleasantly warm for quite a while. My feet were aching from pounding on the hard, rocky trail, a common problem. Sometime after dark I put on a warmer shirt and changed my shoes, hoping some thicker shoes would provide some relief. No such luck. The aching feet continued but that was part of life so I kept going at whatever pace I could. It was getting harder and harder to go for long stretches without stopping to sit down. Every time I plopped down into my camp chair it was instant relief from the aching in my feet so it was hard to not stop every time I ran by.
I think they're taking a selfie here. |
Bethany is learning the art of photo-bombing. Not bad for a beginner, huh? |
On one hand, this was devastating. If I broke a bone that was it. I would not reach my goal, I'd be off my feet for a while with the possibility of surgery. On the other hand, it was kind of nice to have an "out" because this race was freakin' hard and I doubted my ability to make 100 miles. Stopping because of an injury is different than stopping because I just didn't have it in me. Part of me was relieved at the thought of my race being finished, too. It sure would be nice to sit down, maybe get some sleep, take it easy the rest of the night, like a normal person.
I tried NOT to think that way but I'm not too proud to admit that it happened.
This is Peg. She is something of a mascot for the race. |
Just keep moving... |
My plan was to make it to the tent where I could sit and examine my foot. If the bone hurt, I would stop. I was not going to mess around with that type of fracture. If it wasn't the bone I would change shoes and keep going, even though I knew I wouldn't be able to go fast enough to reach 100 miles. At least I would not stop trying.
When I looked at my foot I found that it wasn't the 5th metatarsal that was hurting, it was a little further back. No fracture -- that was good, but it still hurt like crazy. I put on my Altras and hobbled back to the trail. By walking on my toes or everting my foot a ton the pain became manageable. I ran where I could, which wasn't much, but I kept on trucking.
My mind was cloudy but somewhat frantic at this point. For the life of me I could not figure out what pace I needed to make 100 miles. I tried the math about a thousand times and probably never got it right. All I knew was that I was behind schedule already and wasn't getting any faster. I finished mile 74 and realized I had a full marathon left to go. That was discouraging to say the least. There were about 7 hours left on the clock and I did not know if I would make it. I was getting more and more depressed with every step. Then, to make matters worse my foot pain intensified again at least as bad as it was initially. I was in a bad place. "The Wall," you might say.
"No pacer," I thought. "If only I had a pacer I might be able to make it, but there's no way I can do this on my own."
I had been praying all day for strength and help just to be able to do my best and be satisfied with my race. I didn't know what else to do. Just keep limping along, I guess. I thought, "But if I can't get 100 miles what's the point?"
Just then I felt someone put his arm around my shoulder. Jason had come to my rescue! Well, sort of. He was actually in worse shape than I was. He had checked himself out of the medical area and somehow managed to track me down. I told him what was going on and he asked if I had taken Ibuprofen. The thought had not once crossed my mind. Of course I should take some Ibuprofen! Why didn't I think of that? I was willing to try almost anything at this point.
As we finished that lap I stopped at the tent and downed a couple Vitamin I. I shuffled to the aid station, drank a healthy cup of Mt Dew -- because I was starting to get really sleepy now too -- and headed out for another lap.
It took less than half a mile for me to feel better. Much better. My muscles and feet were still aching but I started running again, lots. Within a couple laps I was flying (relatively). I wasn't even stopping at the aid station because I knew I had to ride that train as long as I could. Some people would tell me I was doing great as I passed them and my reply was, "I have no idea how I'm doing this right now," which wasn't completely true.
Yes, I think the ibuprofen helped. I certainly felt good. But I know there was more to it than that. It was no coincidence that Jason found me and told me to take the Ibuprofen. He should have been at the medical tent. Divine intervention provided exactly what I needed at exactly my darkest moment. I'm so thankful that God is real and that He hears and answers my prayers, even in the middle of the night on a dark trail in northeast Ohio.
With renewed strength I powered through several miles, eventually hitting the 90 mile mark. At this point I was sure I could finish. Even so, 10 miles is a decent distance and I was very sleepy. The aid station volunteers were absolute saints for staying up with us all night. They kept me going with different foods, which I used more to keep me awake on the trail than to give me fuel to burn. I never thought it was possible to fall asleep while running. Now I know better.
I managed to stay on the trail and make it a few more miles. The sky lightened as my dream of becoming a 100 mile finisher became closer to reality. I literally couldn't believe it. It was still just one mile at a time.
As I finished my 98th mile a volunteer started talking to me like she somehow knew who I was. Apparently she had met Jason and paced him for his last mile and she asked if she could join me.
"A pacer?" I thought. "Heck yes I want a pacer!"
So she was kind enough to walk the last two miles with me. (I don't think she realized how close I was to 100 miles.) It was very nice to have company and conversation and I'm sure I didn't thank her enough.
As we rounded the fire pit and started the final lap the realization of what I was about to complete began to hit home. I started to get pretty emotional thinking that I was going to be a 100 mile finisher. We walked most of the last lap but I definitely wanted to run the final stretch so I managed something of a slow jog while Bridget (my pacer) ran alongside me. I can't begin to describe all the thoughts going through my head as I came out of the woods and onto the grassy homestretch for the last time. Then, turning to the right toward the finish line, my emotions were almost overflowing. I raised my hands and the "crowd" cheered as I finished 100 miles. Trying to take it all in, I couldn't even speak for a minute. Zack, the race director, presented me with my 100 mile finishers Buckle and 24-hour mug. Bridget was kind enough to snap some pics and let the facebook world know that I was a 100 mile finisher.
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Thanks, Zack |
Running 100 miles in 24 hours is the most physically demanding thing I've ever done. It tested my limits in just about every possible way. But what an incredible experience. Will I do it again someday? Perhaps. 100 miles is a completely different beast compared to 50k, 50 miles or even 100k. I can talk about it all day but it is impossible to understand until you experience it yourself. That may be cliche to say but it's true.
Some have mentioned that they're impressed I did it without a pacer (except those last two miles). It's not like I didn't have any help, though. Seeing Jenny and the girls was a huge morale booster -- it always is. And running with Jason made a world of difference, not to mention a crew of volunteers standing by each and every mile. It would have made a huge difference to have a pacer but the help I had proved to be just enough and I'm thankful for that.
This race is an outstanding event. The director and organizing committee did a phenomenal job. The volunteers were outstanding, especially those burning the midnight oil at the aid station. And the guy at the timing table, Hugh, manually entering every runner all day and all night. Could there be a more tedious yet vital task? He did great though. And thanks to my spontaneous pacer for the last two miles. Thank you, everyone.
One thing I love about the event is that anyone can participate. Whether you want to run or walk 100 miles or 1 mile you can. And you have all day and night to see what you're capable of. It's awesome to be out there with everyone just doing what they can, walking or running, having a blast. Because in the end that's what it's all about.