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| Even modest victories have a price |
Agility I
Preparing my gear late Friday night before the race I realize that I had not brought a handheld bottle. And since the aid stations are conveniently close to one another, I hadn't brought my Nathan pack. Two alternatives are possible. First, run without hydration and rely on the aid stations. It's possible but the day promises some unseasonably temperatures in the upper 70s and gulping liquids every few miles and then running without does not seem like a good plan. Second, Emaad's cousin, whose home we are staying at, offers a couple of small 6-ounce bottles of water. Better than the first alternative I decide, and I take them.
Getting in the car Saturday morning for the drive to the race, I spot a wide-mouth empty16-ounce bottle from an iced tea I bought on the drive from Maryland. It's ridged, which will improve the grip and it has a wide mouth, which will make refilling easy. I pour the water from the smaller bottles into it and I'm ready to race.
Agilty II
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| It's not an Uberendurance event without Uber Hans and his accordion. |
With barely six weeks to race day, Stephan Weiss, the Uberendurance Sports race director, arranged to move the race to Pennypack Park, where he puts on several other races. Not only does he move the race, but he has to figure out a course.
With great agility he does so, although the last minute maneuvering means he cannot provide a trial map in advance, only assuring runners that it would be two loops, and that half of the course would use trails used in the Dirty German (my 2019 report here) and half would be new trails. And he promises five aid stations per loop, and a total of eleven for the marathoners.
Fly and Die
We know the Pennypack drill: park on the street, make a very short walk to the pavilion, get our bibs and shirt, stash our drop bag, listen to Uber Hans play his accordion, eye the other runners. Aa couple of minutes before 8 a.m. Hans plays the National Anthem on his squeeze box, Stephan calls the runners to the start line and we are off.
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| Emaad follows other runners early in the race |
Soon enough the field starts to stretch out, and parts of the course are wide enough to permit faster runners to move ahead. Emaad and I settle into a nice rhythm, not too fast, but definitely quicker than usual.
After a few miles I'm still feeling good. Lacking impulse control, I tell him that I'm going to go on. I know exactly what I'm doing and it is something I haven't done in several years. It's fly and die time - run as fast as you can for as long as you can and hope that the finish is close enough when you run out of fuel and crash. It is a terrible strategy, but it can be fun while it lasts. Then it gets ugly. And you never know when the fly part will end, adding to the excitement. It's Russian roulette in trail shoes.
Running with several other runners, we pass a pair of mountain bikers on the side of a single track trail built with bikers in mind, with log jumps and plenty of twists and turns. One has thrown his chain and is fixing it. Soon they are back on the path and politely pass us as we all head downhill.
Goals
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| Still flying in the second loop. |
About three quarters of the way through the first loop I decide to set some goals for the day. I rarely set them before the race: "just want to finish" is my usual response. But once I get going goals help to motivate me.
So I set five: finish the first loop before anyone in the half marathon (starting an hour later) passes me; finish the first loop before the leader of the marathon finishes; finish the first loop under 3 hours; finish the marathon under 6 hours; finish the marathon under 6:30.
The first goal gets blown away with miles remaining in the first loop. And then again. And again. Ultimately nine half marathoners will finish their race before I get to the end of the loop, even with an hour headstart.
But I don't notice anyone with a marathon bib pass me as I approach the start finish line. One goal accomplished.
I cross the line at the end of the first loop in 2:45! I change my shirt and head out on the second loop. Still flying! And I start thinking that 6 hours is definitely in play. I can slow down by half an hour on the second loop and still make it.
Awhile into the loop my GPS reads barely 13 miles. That's odd, since the first loop, a half marathon should have been 13.1 miles. Maybe that explains the speedy - for me - first loop. But no matter. Stephan had to put a course together quickly and did. In trail runs, the distance is what the race director says it its. And woe to those who insist that the distance isn't what the race director says. The founder and race director of the Seneca Creek Greenway Trail Marathon and 50K added a "spite mile" the next year after fielding complaints that the course was longer than the advertised distance. (For the record my GPS logs 24,8 miles. It is what it is. You still have to go from the start to the finish.)
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| Trail next to Pennypack Creek (mile 18.5) |
Catching up with a pair of runners I channel the Blues Brothers: "It's eight miles to the finish, I have half a bottle of water, two gels, and I'm wearing sunglasses. Let's hit it." One runner, missing the reference, helpfully offers a gel and says the next aid station is near. The other runner gets it. (Yes, the movie is 41 years old and I'm showing my age with the reference, but it's a classic. Right?)
Bees? What bees?
A runner asks me if I'd been stung. No, I reply, a bit puzzled by the question, She tells me she had been stung seven times. Apparently there is a yellow jacket nest on the trail and the residents have taken offense at the disruption caused be the runners. They have taken to attacking them, and since they are yellow jackets and not bees, can sting multiple times. (Emaad will report being stung five times, from his ankle to his thumb.)
A course marshal also warns of the hazard on the second loop and says to stay to the left of a white-topped can he has placed near the nest. When I get to the spot, I heed his advice and remain unstung.
Crash and Burn
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| Crossing Bridge over Pennypack Creek (mile 7) |
I'm well into the second loop, about mile 16, and moving along well. The plane is flying smooth and level. All is going smoothly.
Until it isn't. I catch a foot and head toward the ground. There is a rock sticking up toward me as I go down, and I stretch out to avoid catching it with my ribs. I succeed, but the cost is a scraped up right knee and right forearm. Blood runs down the knee. I examine what has happened and don't feel any significant problems with the knee or the arm. The damage is superficial and I am able to go on.
But the fall has taken the "fly" out of me. There is an aid station a little bit ahead and I use wipes meant for cleaning surfaces to clean the scrapes. I decline the offer of water to wipe off the dried blood that has reached to my sock, figuring to wear it as a badge of honor.
Recharged
On I go, no longer flying high. Physically I don't feel bad, but the fight is out of me. Through the mountain biker trail loop, along the relatively flat stretch along the north side of Pennypack Creek and back to the aid station. Continue on the gently rolling single track of the southernmost loop, under the overpass at Bustleton Avenue and on to the aid station under Krewstown Road at about mile 20.5. Then over the bridge to the other side of the creek. This section of the trail is about 2.5 miles along the creek and the trail is frequently double wide with few rocks and roots.
I start running with Amy, a runner doing her first trail marathon. Having someone to run with starts to recharge my mental battery. A peek at the GPS get me thinking that maybe 6 hours is still in play. And having a new running friend means I get to tell my old stories to fresh ears.
As we come to the final aid station (mile 23.5) I yell out, "Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses." Sure enough, a bottle appears and a shot appears. I beg off, as I'm back to aiming at the 6 hour goal. But I do accept half a brew. Gotta hydrate for the final push.
Amy and I go on. I'm glancing at my watch more and more, but the time is slipping away. I finally urge Amy on, telling her I think she still has a shot at breaking 6. She takes off and is quickly out of sight.
My new goal now is 6:15. Cross the bridge over the feeder stream to Pennypack Park, up the trail to the sidewalk alongside Pine Road, swing around walkers, cross over Pennypack Creek, left onto the field leading to the finish, toss away my reliable substitute water bottle and cross the finish line in 6:06:25.
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| Getting cleaned up by Philly's bravest. (Photo by E. Burki) |
I collect my plastic finisher's medal, and am awarded a trophy for finishing first in my age group (I beat the other person in it by 64 minutes, but he is the oldest finisher.) There is a medic unit parked at the finish and they clean up my wounds and bandage my knee. No need to risk necrotizing fasciitis, my current irrational fear associated with trail running. (My other two fears are not irrational: ticks and poison ivy.)
In a post-race email Stephan explains the plastic medal: "We had ordered medals in the spring, but unfortunately they are currently stuck on one of these container ships outside of LA. . . . we then worked with a local artist to have wooden medals made just in time for the race. Unfortunately their equipment broke down and they were not able to produce them either, so this acrylic medal was the last option . . . and we had them shipped next day air just in time for the race."
Results
I finish in 6:06:25, good for 99/114 overall, 67/76 males and 1/2 in the 70+ age group. Amy finishes in 6:05:19 and is kind enough to take the picture of me at the top of this post. Emaad, with his five stings, finishes in 6:19:57.
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| Swag: Quarter zip, medal, bib and AG trophy |
