Resolution Run 6 Hour: The last PRs of 2017

After I raced the Jacksonville Marathon and came up with my 3rd fastest marathon on December 16th and the hurt-but-still-BQ'd Rehoboth Beach Marathon on December 2nd, I was definitely in recovery mode. I didn't even crack 20 miles the week before Christmas mostly because I was sore and tired. So I plodded along a few miles here and there, but it was all just slow and short. The top of my left foot felt bruised from JAX so I was also trying to be smart (ish).

The week of Christmas, I felt sluggish from all the cookies, steak, and wine. I asked Laurie & Jen on the 26th if they were doing the Resolution Run and they both were traveling. I did a 10 miler at MP +30 on the treadmill that evening and woke up the next day with a return of the sore foot and a head cold. Ugh. I took the 27th off running and decided to do an easy 5 mile progression Thursday.

On Friday, I woke up thinking I was just going to tell Matt I would skip the Resolution Run. But then he texted me a screenshot of his registration. Crap. I seriously wavered back and forth for hours about it all day when it popped into my mind. My sniffles were mostly subsided, but my stupid foot was still sore. I taped it up and told myself I would just wait until after work to decide.

It did actually feel much better with the tape and decided I would just sign up. The race fee was only $10 so even if I woke up feeling horrible, I could just either not go or hang out and volunteer.

With a 1:00 p.m. start in Greenville, SC, I had plenty of time to sleep in and pack up my gear in the morning. I made the 2 hour drive easily and ate some avocado wraps and granola I had packed about an hour before the race. It was definitely chilly just sitting around and I waited until about T-minus 15 to toss off my warm-ups before we got going. I popped a couple of ibuprofen, ate my traditional mini Snickers, and popped in my ear buds.

Matt got caught up at work and so I would be starting the race without really knowing anyone. Cool with a marathon, but kind of lonely in an ultra. The race director ran the first 1 mile lap with us so I just stuck to the front of the pack when we started. It was just under a 10:00 minute mile and while I was grateful for an easy start and conversation, it was nice to get moving after that first lap.

There was a teenager who leapt out in front and I watched his galloping, light strides as he slowly separated from me. He was built like a typical fast high school runner and immediately wondered how long he would hold that pace. I knew I was being a bit reckless with my own pace, but it felt comfortable and all my body parts seemed to actually being feeling good.

Each lap we ran, we had to grab a pebble from a 5 gallon bucket and place it into a cup. The first few times, it was kind of fun to stop and watch the pile grow. Admittedly, I got a bit annoyed with this system later in the race as other runners would take their time to choose a rock from the communal pile and drop it in their cup. Silly in retrospect as those few extra seconds didn't mean anything, but it was just one of the things breaking my rhythm every mile.

The course this year was less hilly than the prior year, but I still ended up with over 2,000' of gain for 40 miles. It was a mixture of paved sidewalk, concrete sidewalk, a smidgen of dirt, and a grassy soccer field. All of that in a mile. So just when I'd find my groove on the pavement, it would switch. And when I started to feel happy that the grass would be absorbing some shock, it would switch. So it really kind of was like an urban trail run in that you had to pay attention to your footing a good portion of the time.

I started blasting my music after the first mile, content to just put my head down and run until Matt got there. I was about 7 miles in when he arrived and we continued seeing each other in the same out-and-back section for many, many miles. It was kind of funny that we were running nearly the identical pace for about 15 miles or so. He stopped at the aid station at one point long enough that I was able to finally reach him when I was in my 20-something mile.

Somewhere in the late teens, I felt a twinge in the hamstring and started to panic. It wasn't acute like when it first happened, but rather the same residual soreness I had afterwards. Strangely enough, it dissipated after about 5 minutes and I never felt it again through the race. It kind of put me in a funk through those middle miles though as I was worried I was going to have to cut my run short.

When I did catch up to Matt, I was still in that funk. And really wasn't in any mood to talk. I kind of mumbled some words at him for about a mile and a half and then pushed him to go on ahead. Though I wasn't inherently feeling anything physically bad (wahoo!), I wanted to do quiet work by myself.

There was a 3 hour race that started at 4:00 p.m. and it was good to get some faster moving legs out on the course. The 12 hour runners were definitely into the zombie zone and the teenager who led the 6 hour for awhile had begun walking. About an hour into their race, I passed one of the 3 hour women and she must've thought I was in contention in her race because she immediately came blowing past me with a whole new gusto. Though I knew we weren't competing in the same race, it was good to kind of have someone be the pacemaker for at least a short while.

I had been pretty on top of my calories all day and was proud that side of the race was going really well. After I got into the double digits, I put my handheld on and kept hydrating until the final hour. I started with gels and then guzzled Tailwind in the middle miles. At some point, I grabbed a coconut bar and a handful of rosemary potatoes from the aid station and felt like a new person.

I drank an entire Coke from my stash as I was actually feeling sleepy in the second half. It seemed to be helping so I sought out another one from the aid station. I found one on the table, opened it, drank a quarter of it, and came back about 45 minutes later and drank the last quarter of it. Apparently I was sharing with someone, but these things somehow seem less gross when you've been running for 4 hours?

My marathon split was somewhere in the 3:40s and I was relieved when I hit that mark. Somewhere before I actually hit 50K, Matt and I were running together again and he asked if I had ever gone under 4:30 for a 50K. My 50K prior to this race was 4:47, but happy crossed over the line around 4:30 and Garmin beeped at 4:32:21. My GPS was losing about 2/100ths of a mile each lap so no official chip PR - just a Garmin one. But hey, a PR is a PR!

As it got close to 6:00 p.m. and the 5 hour mark, I noticed the waning sun and decreasing temperature. When I stopped to get my headlamp, I also tossed my gloves back on. I actually felt very comfortable temperature-wise the last hour so the gloves were a great choice!

Runner math was not really on the table until I had about 45 minutes left in the race. I was content to just get to a marathon, a 50K, then 35 miles. Once I got to 35 miles, I realized that I could hit 40 if I stayed within a reasonable pace. It was definitely getting harder and the miles were wearing on me. But with the finish nearing, I kept going. Just 3 more laps, just 2 more laps, just 1 more lap.

I knew I'd have 39.5ish on my Garmin when I stopped and really wanted it to say 40. But when I stopped after my 40th lap - the lap time became good enough. I was pooped. Happy, but pooped. I counted all my rocks, recorded my laps, and waited for Matt to come through on his final lap. He ended up with 33 laps - we basically did the same pace for 5 of the 6 hours - and he came in second!

40 miles in the 6 hour is a PR for me. Coming off 2 marathons and on a less-than-ideal course makes me feel good about where my fitness is even if my body parts are randomly uncooperative. There is always the what if factor of an ideal course and a rested body, but a couple of extra miles in the 6 hour is one I'm okay to leave on the table for now.

Midsummer's Dream Year 2: Sweet Revenge

I wanted revenge on this race. The 2016 version was by far the worst I have ever felt in a race. In my life. I've run longer and harder before, but last June, I took a serious trip to Funkytown and was physically uncomfortable for about 80% of the race.

I was so afraid that I was going to have a repeat of last year that I hesitated to sign up until the week of the race. I had a miserable training run on Monday night. My legs felt like concrete and I had no energy. I never cut runs short, but this was exceptionally bad.

So of course I went home and signed up for revenge on the worst race being held that Saturday.

I hadn't pinned a bib on since Boston and it seemed weird that I had gone 2 months without racing. But I had been running a lot--over 200 miles in May despite traveling 16 days in Europe. And before last night, I had racked up 100 miles in June.

There was a teeny bit of a taper in the days leading up to the race, but I had logged 58 miles the week prior and over 6,000' of ascent with my crazy run/hike/camp trip. I was a little worried that I wasn't going to feel fresh at the race, but I also knew that it was really important that I push myself now for my long term goals.

Luckily, I felt really good on my shakeout run on Friday afternoon and I was able to spend all day Saturday off my feet. I stuck with low fiber carbs, hydrated through the mid afternoon, and took a midday nap.

Dark clouds started to form as I drove the hour west towards the race site. As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, the sky opened up and it began raining sideways. Thunder. Lightening. Ugh. I texted John and decided to stay dry as long as possible. Around 8:15, I grabbed my umbrella and decided to pick up my bib so that I was ready even if the rain didn't quit by 9:00.

Fortunately, it started to slow down and I lugged my cooler and gear through the muddy gravel towards John's set up on the course. By the time I laid out my stuff and changed into my shoes, it was pretty much time to line up. I spotted Nikki and Pete and we made our introductions. Luckily, I was geared to go because without any warning, the start gun sounded and we all kind of looked around in disbelief.

A couple of kids took off first and beelined down the course. I tucked into the pack behind Nikki, Pete, and Nicole. Our group had a couple of other guys and the 6-7 of us stayed pretty tight through the first 4 loops. The course was a mess for the first hour. Huge puddles of water extended over the entire path and the single track section was muddy and slippery. There was one really bad section where mud and water was up to your ankles and there really wasn't any good way to avoid it. Being a 1.2 mile course, everyone knew that we would be dealing with the water and mud all night.

It was extremely humid after the rain. I looked around at the other runners and by the end of the first lap, everyone was coated in moisture. Shorts were sopping wet. Skin glistened. Temperatures hovered in the 80's. I knew I was in for a long night of staying on top of keeping my core cool and staying hydrated.

On the 4th lap, Nikki, Pete, and Nicole peeled off to their gear and I stuck with a guy who had been with our pack. I decided to grab my handheld that was half frozen from my cooler on the next lap and a gel. The guy was keeping a solid pace and holding just below 9s which was where I wanted to be.  I stuck with him another 2 laps or so and then stopped for a bit longer as we crossed lap 7.

I had been hungry since the start, but my digestive nightmare from the year prior had me fearing putting too much on my stomach. So I decided to just try to get calories every 45 minutes during the race. The first 2 gels went great. By the time I was at 2:15, I was feeling sloshy and not interested in eating. The next 45 minutes went really downhill, really fast. My mind was struggling big time. The only reason I was still moving ok was 100% muscle memory. I really, really wanted to quit at 3 hours.

The strange thing was that nothing inherently hurt. My stomach was sloshy, but it wasn't painful. It was warm still, but I wasn't overheated. My legs were tired, but I still had something to give. My mind drifted to the insanity that I was going to run twice as long in 2 weeks in nearly similar conditions.

I started making deals with myself. Make it to 3 hours. (Later: Make it to a marathon. Make it to 50K. Make it to mid-30s (re: 35). Make it to my course PR.)

Luckily, Dan, Casey, and Alyssa showed up around midnight. I have never been relieved for course support in my life. They came at my race low. I ran a half lap with Dan and while it didn't push me out of the funk immediately, it did help to reset my race. As I headed past the 3 hour mark (and didn't quit with the 3 hour racers so I had to keep going), I started aiming towards the marathon mark.

Dan and Casey ran with John for a bit and it was awesome to hear their cheers as we passed each other on the course. I was starting to alternate hydration every other lap. Sometimes I would stick ice cubes in my sports bra. Sometimes I would suck on ice cubes in my mouth. Sometimes I would annoy myself for a half mile as the ice rattled in my bottle. I guzzled Powerade at one point and felt better for a few minutes, but then had a bit of sloshy stomach.

I grabbed half of an Uncrustable just before the marathon mark, knowing it was critical I start getting calories in my system. Just before 4 hours, I crossed the 26.2 and kept right on going. I ran a couple more laps until I stopped at the aid station and promised myself a 5 minute walk break. A cup of jelly beans looked good and I grabbed a few pieces of watermelon. I threw this odd combination in my mouth and used the walk break to digest the calories.

Magic.

I walked about 4 minutes or so total, but the break and the calories had me feeling human again. My legs were now the only source of ill as they were feeling tired at 4 hours, 20 minutes into the race. 50K was the next benchmark and Dan picked up a few miles with me.

Once I crossed the 50K mark at 4:44, I felt like I was going to be able to gut out the last hour. I wasn't quite sure if I was going to be running 9s or 11s, but either way, I'd end up in the mid-30s at least.

Dan ran a bunch of miles towards the end when I was far less talkative and far more focused. Luckily, he pushed the pace just enough. It was hard to hold on at times, but I just tried to keep up as much as possible. I grabbed some pretzels at one point towards the end and they were dry and hard to chew. I spit out half of them on the side of the track and kept running.

Doing some quick runner math, I knew I could do one more lap if I came in at 5:47 or faster. I told Dan I wanted to run in with a beer and that he was essentially relieved of his pacing duties when we got to the second to last lap. Fortunately, the knowledge that I could stop at the end of the final lap was enough to push me to run it sub-9.

Dan met me at the aid station with the beer and I ran down the final 100 meters with the cold can in my hand. Casey got a bunch of photos of me finishing and I was so relieved to just finally stop. I cracked open the cold beer and drank about a 1/4 of it as we stood around watching people come in to finish.

We got some more pictures with John and then we walked to our setup so I could change out of my shoes.

I started feeling queasy and hobbled over a few feet out of the way to puke a few times.

Oh running. Such a glamour sport.

Puking made me feel better fortunately. Casey walked down with me to pick up my finisher's medal, t-shirt, a few snacks, and hang out for the awards.

First place! 39.6 miles. A new PR!

We walked back to the setup and I worked on my beer while we cheered John on for a few more laps. As it neared 4 am, we all decided to call it a night. We all mourned a little that he still had many more hours to cover alone. It was a long, slow ride home, but I was happy to be in warmish, dryish clothes headed for bed. And happy to have (mostly) gotten revenge on this race!

Strava data here.