Dirty German 50K - May 11, 2019

Man Down
I look at the dirt from inches away. I'm on my hands and knees, or maybe my elbows and knees. All I know is that seconds ago I was running and now I'm down. It was not a slow motion fall or a  stumble and fall variety of going down.  This was sudden, abrupt and hard.

I take inventory. Hands are OK. Legs are OK. Left side of the chest hurts; it must be where I landed. Small bruise on my left eyebrow; I must have hit my head as well. I stay down while trailing runners come up and ask if I'm OK and if I have water, food, phone.  I assure them that I'm OK and have all those things as I get to my feet. I thank them and urge them to go on; that I'll just walk for a bit. There's about three miles to the finish of the Dirty German 50K and about half of that to the next and final aid station. I know I can walk it in if need be.

But I don't feel so well. A few steps leave me feeling unsteady. I sit down on the side of the trail to regain stability and to await Emaad.

Prologue
Emaad and I drive up to Villanova to stay with his cousin. It's a leisurely drive, with a stop at the Dog House in New Castle, Delaware. This small, cash only, counter or carry-out, limited menu dive specializes in foot-long hot dogs, split and grilled and served on chewy, tasty rolls from a local bakery. Emaad notes that one of the servers has a tear-drop tattoo, and says that means he killed someone.  A Wikipedia check reveals that it might mean that, or something else. In any case, we wisely don't ask the counterman what his tat means.

Getting to Villanova early, we visit Tin Lizard Brewing Company (Bryn Mawr) (for a pale ale and an Irish ale) and Tired Hands BrewCafe (Ardmore) (for a saison and candied bacon) to sample the local beers and hydrate.

First Loop

Enjoying the music before the start

Saturday morning, Google navigates us the half hour drive to Pennypack Park. We park on the street  along with many other runners, walk to the pavilion where we pick up our bibs and premiums, drop our bags and wait for the start. An accordion player provides appropriate German music for the waiting runners and spectators. The 50-milers, running three loops of the course plus a bit of an additional short loop, start at 7:30. The 239 50K runners, doing two loops start 30 minutes later. The one-loop 25K runners start 30 minutes later, at 8:30.

A bit of a run through a field at the start/finish helps sort out the runners as we reach the entry to the mostly single track. The course wending its way through the park is mostly dry, with only occasional spots of mud and puddles, most of which are easily avoided. There is a bit of up and down, but none of
the climbs are long or particularly steep.

Salt Sherpa
After a couple of miles I let out a curse when remembering that I forgot be carry salt capsules with me, as the day that forecast as being cloudy with a chance of showers is turning out to be mostly sunny. A nearby runner tells me she has extra and offers me some. I thank her for the offer and accept a pair that I stash away. "You can be my salt sherpa," I tell her.  She says that is an agreeable nickname.

In three miles we arrive at the first aid station where the accordion player is already there to serenade us as we pass through.  Around mile five a deer stares out of the woods next to the trail at the runners passing by.  I pull out my phone to snap a pic but just as I'm finally ready, the deer turns around and disappears.

Pennypack Creek from the bridge

The second aid station at mile 7.5 is reached with no issues, as the faster 25K runners overtake us. We run back on the other side of Pennypack Creek, finally crossing a bridge that takes us back to aid station 1 at mile 11.5.

In about a mile we enter a part of the course that folds back and forth on itself. The website calls it the roller coaster section, but it seems more like what one's small intestine is like.

First Fall
In about three miles we come to the third aid station. Moving right along we run and chat with other runners. I stumble, take a few steps and then turn my right shoulder in to roll as I hit the ground. Not a bad fall, and I complete the roll so I can pop back to my feet.  Emaad has seen this move before, but the others are impressed by my ability to turn clumsy into agile.

Down Again
Soon we are back at the start/finish, and after a stop at a porta-potty, run over the through lane timing mat (in 3:33) to start our second lap.

Typical single track

Almost across the grassy field I fall again, this time without much warning.  But the field is soft and no harm comes of it, although I note the concrete bench that was not more than a stride or two from my head. Another step and the landing would not have been so inconsequential.

Emaad and I are generally running together, but sometimes I get a bit ahead. I run with a pair of women. We talk about falling, as one is concerned about it and the other says that she has only fallen three times in her career.  Sure enough, that is too much for the running gods and in a few minutes on a flat section she catches a toe on a root and goes down.  She has dirt on both knees but is not hurt so on we go.

Special Hydration I
Arriving again at the first aid station (now mile 18) I see that there is a special offering of complex carbohydrate liquid refreshment. I ask for some and it is freely given. When I pull out the phone to document this happy moment, the aid station volunteer says "no social media, as our permit does not permit [complex carbohydrate liquid]. We want to remain on good terms with the park authorities." I put the phone away as I take another sip of the deeply satisfying liquid aid.

The run to the second aid station (now mile 23) is uneventful with chats with other runners including some 50 milers who we overtake. The volunteers at the aid station are concerned about running low on cups, so I use the collapsible cup that I am carrying and mention how the North Face was a cup free race as well as others that I have run.  The volunteers express concern about how that might slow down providing aid, but another runner says that isn't the case.

Salt Sherpa and I in the second loop

Salt Sherpa catches up with us and we run and chat together for a bit. I don't need to rely on her kindness any longer as the aid stations have packets of salt tablets, and I get one.

I run with a runner who is an electrical engineer by profession and we discuss whether mobile phones can cause cancer, a topic brought up the night before by Emaad's cousin, an oncologist. Surprisingly to me, he concurs that it might be the case. He also says this is his first 50K and that he hopes to run a marathon fast enough to qualify for Boston. Given our 50K pace that seems a stretch goal, but I say nothing.  We talk about training and coaching for such an effort and I silently note that he is in my age group. This will be consequential later in the day.  I bid him good running and go on.

A bit further on a deer stands athwart the trial. In a bit of contradiction I yell at it to run away while reaching for my phone to photograph it.  Like the deer earlier in the day it does not hang around long enough.

Special Hydration II
Arriving back at the first aid station (now mile 27) I inquire in my finest high school German, "Haben Sie mehr [complex carbohydrate liquid] bitte?" Enthusiastically a can of the refreshment is retrieved from a cooler. Normally I'm quick through aid stations - gulp some Coke, refill my hydration bottle or back, grab some potato chips, cookies and candy and go - but for this I linger and chat. I fully intend to finish the entire can, but the volunteer signals that I should hand it back to him so that he can finish it. Off I go.

Trail Runs for All
I pass a pair of women doing the 25K and give them the usual "Hey" greeting.  They are not the lithe, lean type that one expects on the trails, or running long, or even running at all.  But here they are, he epitome of "relentless forward progress." We had passed them earlier on the first loop and overheard them talking about how their friends had questioned them for wanting to do the race.  But they are here and trail runners accept everyone.  It isn't a question of speed for most of us - it is to get to the finish.  And they are out there, doing something their "friends" don't think they can or should do. I have great respect for them for being on the trail and for prevailing.  We don't do these things because they are easy, but because they are hard.  I'm sure the 25K was hard for them - harder (and slower) than the 50-miler for some. Great credit to them for ignoring their friends, persevering and finishing. No, great credit to them for taking the first step, not the last one.

Pride Goeth Before a Fall
The time dawdling at the aid station while I hydrated has given the electrical engineer a chance to catch up. I see that he isn't far behind me.  Since we are in the same age group and I'm feeling pretty well, I determine that I'll try to finish ahead of him. He doesn't know it, but I'm going to race him.

Through the folds of the small intestine section I can see where he his without having to obviously  be looking back.  I plot to skip the final aid station to gain a few additional seconds or more. We leave the twisty section and the course starts to straighten out a bit. No usual walking uphills for me now. Press on, press on!

The End

Brat, potato salad, apple spice bread

And now I'm sitting on the side of the trail.  The engineer had stopped to see how I was, but now he is gone and I await Emaad. He arrives sooner than I expected and is a bit surprised to see me sitting there.  I get to my feet and the unsteadiness is gone but my chest hurts. Not the sharp pain on intake of breath that would signal a cracked rib, but a dull pain that says bruised ribs.

We go on, with me mostly walking. Running hurts my chest some, and the fall has taken the its toll on my will.  We get a little something at the final aid station.  With less than a half mile to go we spot a woman walking ahead of us.  I stir and suggest that we try to catch her. The funny thing is that even with her walking and me running, I'm not gaining on her.  Emaad takes off in pursuit. He doesn't catch her but finishes 40 seconds ahead of me.

We collect our medals, and get a brat and German potato salad to eat before the walk back to the car, which seems further away than it did when we walked to the start.

At the finish

Stats
I finish in 7:43:19, with splits of 3:33 and 4:10.  I finish 170 of 214, and 5 of 5 - DFL- in my age group. I gained two places in the second loop. On the other hand, I'm the oldest finisher.

Swag: Medal, Bib, Growler, Full-Zipper Shirt

North Face Endurance Challenge DC - April 27, 2019

No linear race report this time - just vignettes and pictures. If you want to know what the course is like, see my reports on the 2012 and 2013 North Face Mid-Atlantic 50Ks, and the 2014 North Face Mid-Atlantic 50M. Same race, same course, different name. The map is here, on pages 4 and 5.

What's a Fella to Wear?

Runners generally, and trail and ultrarunners in particular, obsess over what to wear and carry. What's the course surface (rocks, roots, sand, mud, etc.) and elevation (steep or rolling hills)?  How far apart are the aid stations? What time is sunrise and sunset? What's the terrain (shaded forest, open meadows, treeless desert?)?  What's the weather (hot, cold, humid, windy, afternoon storms?) Are there drop bags allowed?

Crunch the data and decide: long or short sleeve shirt (or more than one); tights or shorts; hat, visor, neither; gloves; buff; gaiters, headlamp; handheld bottle or bladder; gels or other nutrition (and how many); sunscreen or lip balm; salt tablets and ibuprofen; tissues; handkerchief.

Ready to start

A wet spring and rain on Friday assures that the course will be wet, so gaiters to keep the mud out of the shoes.  Cool temperatures to start suggest a long sleeved shirt; sleeves can be pulled up as the day warms up.  Running vest and bladder are a no-brainer to carry nutrition and adequate supplies of liquid.  The relatively cool temperatures and breezes mean it won't feel too warm to wear it. 

Tights are a closer matter. The temperature generally weighs against them, as after an hour or so it will be warm. But I live in dread of ticks and poison ivy, and the course has both, at least when I previously ran it in June.  The switch to an April date means the grass won't be so high in some of the fields so there is less chance of ticks, and the poison ivy will have had two fewer months to grow. But the tights will provide warmth in the beginning and protection from those things I dread, so I go with them.  I figure I can take them off during the race if need be - I wear shorts over them.  Besides, the Eric Clifton-made jester tights always garner compliments.

Mud? We Laugh at the Mud!
A bit of rain Friday and Friday night promises to leave the course soggy on Saturday, and sure enough, the start of the race at 7 a.m. has use stepping through soggy grass around the soccer field at the start used to spread out the field and plodding through mud in the early going.

Bluebells along the Potowmack Canal (mile 4)

But after the mudfest that was Seneca Greenway Trail Marathon and 50K in March Emaad and I don't find the course particularly troubling.  I urge the more cautious runners around us to just run through it: "You're going to get wet and muddy today, so go ahead and get it over with now. Remember all those times your mother told you to stay out of the mud? Well today you get to play in it."

After a few miles of somewhat muddy conditions, the partly sunny day and breezy conditions work to help dry out the course, although there still is some mud in the last few miles, but less than was there when we were outbound in the morning.

Rookies

In Riverbend Park (mile 21)

"Congratulations on your finish," I say to Sara, "Now you are no longer a [is there the slightest hesitation in my voice? Does she notice it?] rookie."  Although I ran the 50K race and she ran the marathon, we leapfrog each other the last 8 or 9 miles and I chat with her during times we are running together.  Not only is this her first trail marathon, it is her first marathon on any surface and I provide morale support and practical advice as we run along. She tells her non-running boy friend that my support helped her to the finish.

For some reason, this race attracts what seems to be a large numbers of first timers, for all its distances. It is very well organized, and the course is just challenging enough with some short but steep climbs along with its single track. The switch to April from its original June date means its less likely (but not impossible) to be brutally hot or humid, or both. And the addition of the Fraser aid station eliminates what used to be a 7 mile stretch without aid.

A few miles in I catch up to a runner and ask him if it is his first ultra. He replies in the affirmative.  He is running without a water bottle or any form of nutrition, flashing red clues that he has never done one before.  He says that with aid stations only 3 to 4 miles apart he will be OK.  I don't argue with him, but after a bit of leapfrogging he soon falls behind and we last see him in the loop in Great Falls Park, where he is probably a few miles behind even our leisurely pace.  And I don't see him at the finish, even though we hang out there awhile.

Emaad on boardwalk in Great Falls  (mile 18)

Somewhere between the Carwood and Frasier aid stations (around mile 23) I get passed by three young men. Two are wearing Navy-themed shirts, the third is bare chested. I complement one for the slogan on the back of his shirt: "If you want to go far, run with someone. If you want to go fast, run alone." I salute them with a "Go Navy" and get a "Beat Army" in return. We leap frog a bit but they are generally faster and soon disappear from sight.  

Awhile later I catch up to them. The shirtless runner is sitting on the ground rubbing his thigh. I ask him if he is cramping and he replies in the affirmative.  I give him a salt tablet, but he doesn't have anything to drink with it (none of them do; clearly first-time ultrarunners). I offer a drink from my pack, but he hesitates. Hold out your collapsible cup (the race is cupless - no paper cups at the aid stations, but every runner received a nice six ounce flexible cup to carry along) I instruct, and I fill it from the hose on my pack.

Great Falls Gorge Overlook (mile 19)

Later on, they will catch up and pass me individually.  As the last of the shirted runners goes by, he says, "I've got to catch up with Crampy," - a nickname earned and deserved.

"Rookie" was almost not the word I said to Sara. Ultrarunners refer to first timers as "virgins." But maybe that's socially incorrect (especially with someone you only met on a trail) particularly with her boy friend next to her. 

Dean Karnazes

At about mile seven a runner comes up on Emaad and me.  Emaad says "Hi, Dean," and as he does I recognize that the runner is legendary ultrarunner, race organizer and author Dean Karnazes.  His 2006 best seller, Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner, made him famous and popularized the sport - if you consider a sport whose largest events do not attract 1000 participants popular. But he is not just a celebrity, he's the real deal, with wins at Badwater 135 miles (2004) and the Vermont 100 milers (2006), and a four top ten finishes at Western States 100.

Remarkably Dean slows down to run with us for the next couple of miles. We chat like all trail runners do, about races we've done and what we have upcoming. Dean is going to Greece in September to run the Spartathlon, a 250K race from Athens to Sparta. He says the hardest part is the first 50 miles from Athens to Corinth, a distance of 50 miles that has a 9:30 cutoff. Apparently he isn't concerned about the 105 miles that follow that.  We tell him of our plans and discuss a 100 miler; he suggests trying a 24-hour race to get a flavor for it.

Dean Karnazes with me (mile 11)

We discuss the Washington pollen (predominately tree pollen at race time) and when I start coughing he offers me a gummy bloc to suck on to stop the coughing.  It works.

We ask if we can take pictures with him and he graciously agrees, so we stop to pose.  After awhile he says that while he would rather be running, he needs to get back to the start/finish in time to give out awards at 2 p.m. and takes off.  I guess that he ran the marathon distance between his duties at the start of the races and the awards ceremony.

How Old?

When we finish I go and check the results in the off chance I've won my age group, 65+.  The real time results show that I'm 3 of 3 so  that's that.  The next day I scan the complete results to see where I stood. One runner finished after me and the results have me listed as 3 of 4.  I search for the two ahead of me. The second place finisher is 66 and an hour ahead of me. I keep scrolling upward for the first place finisher and finally find him finishing 40th overall (35th male) about two and a half hours ahead of me. But what is most remarkable that his age is listed as 118.

I send an email to the timer: "I'm used to being beaten by people in my age group (65+), but not by the world's oldest man" identifying the unbelievable speed of the centenarian.  I n a few hours I get a response: "Ha...good catch :) This must have imported incorrectly, his birthday was entered in as born in 1901." Turns out he was 30, not 118, so I wound up 2 of 3.

Finish Details

Emaad and I run the last few miles together. At the finish we retrieve our drop bags, change shirts and go to get our post race meal.  Rather than have a meal line like in the previous years I did the race, there are four food trucks - pizza, fried fish/BBQ, halal and kabobs - each offering a number of offerings for your ticket.  I elect BBQ ribs while Emaad goes for the lamb and rice from the halal truck.  We take our food to the beer area and redeem our beer coupons for the offerings from Sierra Nevada. Then we buy a second beer to drink while talking to a husband and wife who (of course!) just finished their first 50K. He has done triathlons, and says this was harder. Leaving the beer garden I pick up a Sierra Nevada pen and Hop-N-Mint lip balm.

Swag: Shirt, Medal, Bib, Collapsible Cup, Finisher's Bottle, Pen, Lip Balm.