TNF Endurance Challenge Washington 50M - June 7, 2014

Sometimes you're the windshield

Sometimes you're the bug

- The Bug, Mary Chapin Carpenter

Reservations

I spent weeks dreading the TNF Endurance Challenge Washington 50 Miler.  I had done the TNF 50K in 2012 and 2013 so I knew the course and knew how the weather could be hot and humid, the course as muddy as a swamp, poison ivy lurking by the side of the trail, three loops in Great Falls, and some long stretches between aid stations.  Oh, and it started at 5 a.m.

But Jennifer said that we it was a good training run for Black Hills 100K three weeks later so I dutifully signed up.  But I would have been happy doing the 50K.  My bare bones training therom is that if you can do half the distance, you can do the whole distance.  And since I had already suffered through Bull Run Run 50 Miler and wasn't feeling the need for another day of agony.

But Jennifer had had to withdraw from BRR because of an injury and I also knew that she was right - we both needed another long run to prepare for Black Hills.  And the hills and heat could help us acclimate to what what we have coming on June 28.

Outbound

Dawn rises thru the mist

Jennifer picks me up at 4 a.m. and we get to Algonkian Regional Park in Sterling,VA with just enough time to hand in our drop bags and be ready for the 5 a.m. start.  The eastern sky is beginning to lighten but it is just dark enough to require head or hand lights for the first 15 or 20 minutes of the race. As a result we carry our lamps for the next three hours until we reach our drop bags at Great Falls.  Starting the race 15 or 30 minutes later would eliminate the need for lights.

The 15 miles to Great Falls is reasonably uneventful.  There is a bit of mud in some stretches, a stream crossing where the alternative is to try to shimmy along a fallen tree with the aid of a rope and some somewhat slippery descents.

Jennifer moving along outbound

I entertain Jennifer with a comprehensive description of our recent roadtrip through the South on the way to a wedding in New Orleans - Knoxville and Mobile outbound, Memphis, Nashville and Kentucky homeward bound.  Perhaps entertain is not the proper verb; subject might be more appropriate.  At one point while discussing the proper way to make a Pimms Cup a English runner joins our discussion.

I discuss my recent attendance at the Montana State Society's Tenth Annual Testicle Festival, Nuttin' Better, featuring "all the Rocky Mountain Oysters, beer, Crown Royal and live country music you can handle." Unfortunately the line for the delicacy is long and I only had one helping.  Fortunately, the line for the Crown Royal did not suffer the same drawback.

Jennifer tells how on the South Dakota farm on which she grew up they simply tossed the bull testicles to the waiting farm dogs who devoured them without needing them sliced, breaded and fried.

After my problems at the BRR 50 miler in April I'm paying close attention to hydration.  I'm wearing my Nathan hydration pack and being vigilant to take a Succeed and a gel every hour.  It is a routine that I maintain throughout the day.  And since the aid stations are stacked with gels keeping supplied with them is easy.

Loopy in Great Falls  

Upon entering Great Falls we access our drop bags.  We will be back to them three more times, once at the end of each 6.9 loop in the park before we head back toward Algonkian.  Since there is an additional aid station in the park, I trade the Nathan for a handheld bottle as the backpack is hot.  I also change into one of the two shirts I've put in the bag.

Posing on the trail in Great Falls

Describing the Great Falls section as a loop is an oversimplification.  It has three separate out and back tendrils, as well as a figure eight in the middle of the three tendrils.  While it sounds complicated it is well marked and course marshaled and confusion is at a minimum.  While a bit hilly, the park's paths are wide and sharing them with hikers and park visitors is not a problem.

Jennifer takes a tumble in the park, landing on her right shoulder.  She acquires some dirt but does not break the skin.  But she picks up a slight pull or strain in her right leg, and that bothers her the remainder of the day.

Returning to the drop bags at the end of the first loop, I change to the second shirt and leave the other shirt hanging out of the bag to dry.

The second loop is uneventful, but the day is starting to warm a bit, and we are a bit slower than on the first loop.

On the third loop a runner coming from the opposite direction on one of the out and backs points out a three foot long snake crossing the path. Runners in both directions stop to allow the creature to cross.  Jennifer identifies it as a rat snake.

Inbound
 Back to the drop bags at the end of the third loop I put on the now-dry shirt from the first loop.  I think about donning the camelback for the return as the distance to the next aid station is nearly five miles and I'm concerned about running out of water before getting there.  I decide that the risk is outweighed by the additional sweating from wearing it and I elect to stick with the handheld.

The Potomac under a pretty sky later in the day

As we head out of Great Falls on the return leg, I'm feeling pretty good. In fact, I'm fairly giddy experiencing an absurd runner's high. My mind knows that we still have nearly 15 miles to go, but the spirit is energized and I'm enjoying it.

Jennifer, on the other hand, isn't feeling 100 percent.  Her tumble has bothered her leg and she is battling a bit of a cold that is sapping her strength.  Furthermore, she may be getting a bit dehydrated. I give her a Succeed and the salt helps her retain water and rehydrate. (To non-runners this may sound counter-intuitive, but it is sound science and avoids developing potentially deadly hyponatremia.) While she generally prefers that I lead on the single track sections (let the slow guy set the pace) we switch places so that she doesn't have to over-exert herself in case I try to pick up the pace in my elated state.

Not only does this strategy work well, but she has enough energy that we slowly and relentlessly pass other runners ahead of us.

We leapfrog with one runner who missed a turn early in the race and ran two extra miles because of his mistake.  As we loop around a field I suggest that he can take a shortcut across it because of his extra miles but he makes the appropriate choice and stays on the course.

Sure enough, my water bottle approaches empty with still a ways to go to the Carwood aid station at mile 41. Fortunately the weather, while warm, hasn't gotten too hot and I am able to nurse it along to the aid station.

Jennifer has pretty much used up her reserves by now.  We do a fair amount of walking.  At the stream crossing she stands in the cool water and uses the small cloth she carries to sponge off a bit.

I continue to have a good day.  Even the last hill we climb isn't a problem.  The combination of sticking with the schedule of Succeeds and gels, combined with somewhat lower temperatures than at BRR and a less hilly course have combined for a nice day of running.
 
Finish
We get to Sugarland, the final aid station at mile 47, and I check my pace card. We are still under a 12-hour finishing pace, but Jennifer is running now on fumes and we walk more and more.  But finally the finish line approaches and we run in the last quarter mile, finishing in 12:10:40.

The post-race food perks us up and we are soon heading home so that Jennifer can get to Strathmore Music Center for a Baltimore Symphony Orchestra performance of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

Turns out to have been a windshield day.

Swag: Shirt, socks, medal and bib

Age Group Winner

After we finish we claim our shirts and I go to the headquarters tent to inquire about my age group.  Having looked over the list of registered runners I am pretty confident that I know the outcome, and the race official confirms that I have one my age group.  While she doesn't say it, I'm also last in the age group, because I'm the only one in it.  Had there been a prize for oldest finisher I would have won that as well, but there isn't.  

When I get home I promptly list the Handheld Hydrator for sale on eBay - as with much running paraphernalia, I already have two.

Age Group Winner's Prize: TNF Handheld Hydrator,
two gels and a free shipping coupon

Bull Run Run 50 Miler - April 12, 2014

No Plan Survives Contact With the Enemy
The 2014 Bull Run Run promised to be a battle for slowest team between two time champion MCRRC Absolute Zeroes and Team Vilambitagati, successor to last year's defending champion Team Rocket.  But to add to the over- and mis-use of the oft paraphrased version of the quote from von Moltke the Elder, "No plan survives contact with the enemy." If the enemy can be terrain and weather, then BRR would be a testing ground for the aphorism.

At 4:50 a.m., I drive Mark, Barry, and Gayatri, three of the four members of the opposing team out to Hemlock Overlook for the start of the race.  The weather promises to be on the warm side, and with a late winter, the trees have not begun to leaf out.  I decide to start with shorts and a long-sleeve shirt, and change to short sleeves upon the return to Hemlock at mile 16.  I plan to take a Succeed salt/electrolyte capsule every hour and consume a gel every 45 minutes to replace salts lost through sweat and to keep up energy.

After a nice a cappella rendition of the National Anthem, we start promptly at 6:30 a.m.  Fellow Team Zero member Larry and I start off together and chat about the weather, clothing and our chances to reclaim our slowest team title and win yet another championship blanket.  Light showers Friday night have softened parts of the trail and created some small muddy areas, but the streams are not high and footing is good.  Larry trots on ahead.

Deflated Easter Bunny at the Turnaround

Diabolical Sibling Torture
One of the pleasures of trail running is getting to meet and chat with folk you might not otherwise meet.  Since you are going to be out there for hours stories help pass the time of day.

I run awhile with -  let's call her 'Jane' to honor the "what's said on the trail, stays on the trail" rule. She came some distance to the race with some friends but is going to stay a day or two in DC while the friends go home after the race.  Her younger brother is going to pick her up.

I ask if she has been nice to him growing up.  In response, she tells the following story.

When she was 15 and he was about to have his sixth birthday, she told him that on the sixth birthday, boys turn into girls and girls turn into boys.  "I don't wanna be a girl," her brother moaned. "Girls are icky."  She tells him he doesn't have a choice.  And she tells him the girl name she has picked out for him.

The bluebells were late this year

On his birthday he wakes up with trepidation and glances down.  He's still a boy! Bravely he tells her that he didn't believe her.

"You don't turn into a girl when you wake up," she smugly replies. "It happens when you blow out the candles on your birthday cake."

When the time comes and the cake arrives, he breaks into tears. Mom, figuring something isn't quite right, puts an end to the diabolical fun.

[Alternate ending: The brother blew out the candles, turned to 'Jane' and smartly said, "My birthday wish to remain a boy was granted." But he didn't. He was only 6.]

Fooling Around Crossing Pope Creek
(Photo by Bob Fabia)

In the Presence of Giants
On the way back to Hemlock I catch up with BRR legend Tom Green.  He's one of only three men who have finished all 21 previous BRRs.  The week before he had run the Umstead 100 Miler, his second 100 miler of the year.  I tell him that one reason that I don't want to run a 100 is that I don't want to see the sun rise a second time.  He tells me that seeing the sun rise the second time is actually energizing.  He also reveals that he takes a 90 minute nap during the night.  Maybe running a 100 isn't so bad, I start thinking.

Crossing Little Rocky Run
(Photo by Mike Bur)

Tom also tells how during Umstead he was passing a woman runner and her pacer during the night.  "How are you doing," he asks her in greeting.  She bursts into tears, saying that it is her first 100 miler and she is tired and exhausted and doesn't think she can make the 30 hour cutoff.  Tom, who has run over 40 100-milers and numerous 24-hour events, tells that he "pulled out all his motivational tricks" to help her.  He tells her that she is a lap ahead of him (Umstead is eight laps of a 12.5 mile course) and that he is going to make the cutoff, that she only has a lap and half to go, and that running at night is the hardest but with seven hours gone she only has three hours of darkness to go. "I only saw one women DNF later," he says, "and it wasn't her."

Just then we catch up with Tim Stanley, the second of the three finishers of all the BRRs to date.  Tim had tried to withdraw from the race because of a painful medical condition, but the other legends of  the race have persuaded him to come out and at least start.  Tim will go the 16 miles out from Hemlock, through the bluebells (few in bloom because of the late winter) and back to Hemlock before ending his streak at 21 finishes.

Tom tells us that 2014 may be his 100-miler final tour - he has six more planned through the summer. He says that running 24 hour races are becoming more attractive to him - "you can finish them by sitting in a chair the last hour if you wish," he jokes.

Approaching Hemlock the first time.
No running there the second time.
(Photo by James Williams)

Implement the Plan
Back at Hemlock I change my shirt and contemplate whether to switch from my handheld water bottle to the higher capacity backpack, or add a belt with a second water bottle.  Either would assure that I won't run low of fluids as the day is warming up and I drinking a lot but at the cost of being hotter and sweating more from wearing them.  I decide that the remaining aid stations are close enough together, 5 to 5.5 miles are the most, to stick with the handheld only.  A bigger problem is with gels.  Without the backpack I don't have enough pockets to carry all the gel I need to implement my plan.  It isn't optimal but I decide that I will rely on food at the aid stations to make up the difference.

Heading out I grab some bacon and cheese pierogis.  I hold the bacon in front of me and pretend to chase it to the amusement of the spectators.  All goes well to the Marina aid station (mile 21) where volunteers are handing out wash cloths dunked in ice cold water. It feels great on the head and I soak the blue washcloth I brought with me to bring along. Paper cups with bright red maraschino cherries are a nice treat along with salty beef jerky.

The day continues to warm up.  I remember to take a Succeed every hour, but I've messed up the schedule for the gels and can't remember when I took one last.  Finally I set a timer on my watch to remember for me.

Christmas Came Early at Wolf Run Shoals Aid Station

Wolf Run Shoals aid station (mile 26) is Christmas-themed this year.  I ask to meet the naughty elf but am told she is not there.  More wet towels.

In two miles I'm at the Fountainhead aid station and the drill is now familiar.  Get the cold, wet towels, wipe down, refill the water bottle, soak the blue washcloth and head out into the White Loop.  I put the dripping cloth on my head to both cool off and to provide some cover for the head.  Stephanie, the fourth member of Team Vilambitagati passes me looking relaxed.

Approaching Fountainhead outbound.
I didn't look so good on the way back.
 (Photo by Hai Nguyen)

In 4.4 miles I reach the beginning of the Do Loop. Once in the loop one no longer has to see runners headed back toward the finish while still headed out. I comment to a runner running his second BRR after a break of a couple of year about the crew teams we can see on the water.  He tells me about crewing at Villanova and I tell him about daughter Hilary crewing at LaSalle.  Somehow the conversation turns to mortality and he tells me about how he had had a heart attack years before while lying in bed.  The surgeon told him that he survived because his heart was strong from running.  Later I recall that I had met the same runner in almost exactly the same place in 2011 and he told me the same story.

Back to the Do Loop aid station (mile 35) I eye the pizzas but don't feel hungry.  I'm down to one gel but someone points out that a runner had left some extras behind.  The choices are peanut butter or unflavored.  Neither sound good but I take a peanut butter one.  The heat is starting to wear on me.  Not feeling hungry has progressed to vague nausea.

The Mind Quits Before the Body

Slowly fading away in the Do Loop

Plenty of walking gets me back to Fountainhead (mile 38).  This is the point where the race usually gets tough for me, but now I'm already in bad shape.  I sit in a chair and volunteers bring me wet towels.  I'm not at all hungry at the same time I realize that I'm running out of energy.  The aid station captain tells me that I am about 45 minutes ahead of the cutoff time if I want rest.  I sit for 20 minutes thinking whether to quit or to go on.

Mark comes in to the aid station and I decide to go with him and push on to the next aid station 2 miles away.

We go together a bit and then he simply runs away.  I struggle up the hill to the Wolf Run Shoals aid station (mile 40) and flop into a chair. I can barely talk. An elf brings me a cup of coke and refills my bottle.  The workers start to disassemble the decorations in preparation to shutting it down.  Santa comes over to talk to me.  I tell him I'm thinking of quitting. "You can't quit here," he says. "We don't have a cutoff."  I tell him I have a phone and can quit if I want.  Santa insists that I can make it to the Marina aid station 5 miles further along.  He introduces me to other runners who have arrived at the aid station and tells them that I will be going with them.  He tells me that I can finish and that he will be there to greet me.  He puts Succeeds and Tums in my pill case.

It was a hot day . . .

After 8 to 10 minutes of sitting, somehow I get up and move out. A small strand of remembrance that the mind quits before the body might have been the difference.

A bit down the trail I take the Tums and the Succeed.  They are like a miracle drug.  The nausea vanishes.  I can run again.  I try to follow a woman running and I can't keep up with her on the downhills, but I make it up on the flats.  I catch and pass Larry for the second or third time of the day.

Approaching Marina an aid station worker is walking toward me.  He tells me they had been told of a runner who was struggling. "That was me," I reply, "Feel much better now."

A Tradition Like No Other

I reach Marina in 12:13, seventeen minutes ahead of the cutoff.  Tom Green is sitting there getting ready for his final push. I have 1:47 minutes to go the final 5.5 miles.  That's just under 20 minutes a mile, pretty much a walking pace, or it is on a flat surface.  I can run some and do so where the course is flat.  But there is one long climb and progress is slow.  I take out the peanut butter gel and try to force myself to eat it.  A small taste is all I can manage before I squeeze the rest out on the ground and put the empty packet in my pocket.

I move along fairly well.  Tom Green catches me and I use him to set the pace.  Finally we reach the long steep hill that climbs to the finish.  We start to walk up it but I'm running out of strength again and stop to gather some strength. Tom stops.  I resume and have to stop again.  Tom stops to wait but I tell him to go on.  I start again but nausea wells up from my stomach.  I bend over, but stay on my feet.  The second bout of nausea finally discharges my stomach.  I go a few more steps and sit on a log.  I'm terribly tired.  More nausea and finally my stomach is empty.  Larry comes by and offers to wait.  I tell him to go on.  Another runner waits with me.

This is the third time in six BRRs that I have vomited on that hill.  My own little tradition.  After about a minute I feel revived and we walk toward the finish. Rounding the corner that brings the finish in sight the two of us start to run.  I finish in 12:47:06, less than 13 minutes before the 13 hour cutoff for official finishers but good enough to log my sixth consecutive BRR finish, 264th of 272 finishers. Santa, now in civilian clothes, is there to greet me.  With my stomach empty, I enjoy an Orange Crush and a hot dog prepared by the volunteers.

Results

Both MCRRC Absolute Zeroes and Team Vilambitagati were disqualified: for us because Caroline had to drop after 16 miles because of a pre-existing knee injury and Jim finished over the 13 hour cutoff; for them Barry unfortunately missed the Do Loop and was disqualified (read his report) and Gayatri missed a cutoff.

Tom Green not only finished his 22nd BRR, but he was on the winning slowest team. Gary Knipling and Frank Probst became the first 70 year-olds to finish the race, and Frank kept pace with Tom as now the only two runners to have finished all 22 BRRs.

Swag: Shirt, Finishers' Beach Towel,
Winning Side BRR Magnet, Reusable Cup, Bib

Seneca Creek Greenway Trail 50K - March 8, 2014

Miles and Miles of Mud

 A Tale of True Grit or Epic Stubbornness
We admire perseverance. The epic quest; the strength of will to go on in the face of insurmountable odds; the struggle to succeed when the odds of success are approaching zero. We also admire adaptability. The realization that conditions are not what we expected and react accordingly; to stop doing what is not working and live to fight another day; the change of plan that averts disaster. Both are admirable but mutually exclusive. We are selective in our praise, choosing the label that suits the successful outcome. George Mallory was foolish; Edmund Hillary was adaptable. Custer was dashing at Gettysburg and reckless at Little Big Horn. The frontal assaults at Fredericksburg were a tragic and futile loss of Union lives; Thomas' assault at Missionary Ridge a brilliant matter of perseverance by the Union troops. The story of the 2014 Seneca Creek Greenway Trail 50K is a story of either admirable perseverance or a lack of adaptability. I'll tell what happened, or at least as I saw it and leave it to you to judge.

No mud early on

Starting Out
I pick Jennifer up and we drive up to Damascus Regional Park, where the race ends.  On the way she tells me about her misadventures two days earlier when she took took of her children to Whitetail for a day of skiing and snowboarding.  Although she had never done either she first attempted snowboarding and wound up falling backward.  Even wearing a helmet, she said, she had never hit her head so hard. Also, her back was hurting from the fall.  Having decided that snowboarding was too difficult she switched over to skiing and promptly managed to fly over a berm on the side of the course, get airborne and wind up in some bushes.She tells me she waited until Friday to let me know that she was going to run.

We park, meet up with friends and board the bus that takes us to the start at Poole's Store, where River Road crosses Seneca Creek.  It seems like a long ride. But then again, it is a long ride.

Starting at Poole's Store makes the course about 0.6 mile shorter than in the previous year, when the race began at the old stone mill down Tschiffley Mill Road.  That's a nice concession, as the course is notoriously long, and even shortened still exceeds 50K.

The day is nearly perfect for running, a bit cool, partly sunny and no precipitation in the forecast. But snow earlier in the week, followed by some rising temperatures promises to make for some tricky footing.

But things go smoothly on the trail at the start. It's single track and Jennifer and I are toward the rear where there is plenty of walking as runners gradually sort themselves out by pace.  We pass some folks when we can and make way for others.

The trail is a bit snow covered but the footing is generally decent.  The steep slope at the crossing over the creek at Berryville Road is slick but we manage it without incident. From there we move along nicely.  While the trial has some snow on it and is chewed up a bit by the runners ahead of us, it is in surprisingly good shape.  Even the section south of Route 28 which is a bit low-lying does not have the mud that many of us feared.

Arriving at the Route 28 Aid Station I take off my outer shirt.  I've already shed my hat and gloves.  Spotting Meghan C. who is crewing for Michelle P. I ask her if she would be willing to take them so that I don't have to carry them.  She graciously agrees.

Approaching Black Rock Mill
(Photo by Dan DiFonzo)

Jennifer Runs at Black Rock Mill
 (Photo by Dan DiFonzo)

The stretch between Route 28 and Black Rock Mill goes up and down hill and the snow is now getting slushy and slippery.  Footing is getting tricky and one has to be careful especially on the downhills to not get out of control.

At Black Rock Mill we are directed onto the Seneca Ridge Trail.  It will take us up the hills to the west of Seneca Creek, promising drier footing than if we stay on the Seneca Creek Greenway Trail to the next aid station at Riffle Ford Road. On the other hand, it is a bit longer than the alternative.

As we go along we fall in with Tom G. an extraordinary runner with more than 170 ultras to his credit.  He and Jennifer trot along as I stop to use the, uh, facilities available to all ultrarunners, then to take some pictures.

They chat about home improvements as Tom does that kind of work and Jennifer is a one-woman work crew at her house.  She even took and passed the City of Rockville electrical test to do her own wiring.

Holiday skulls

Tom goes on and Jennifer and I settle into a pattern of running and walking but she is going slower than usual.  As we climb up a steep bank following a stream crossing she gives a yelp from pain emanating from her back.

Time for Drugs
She gives up more of the story how on Friday she had back pain, nausea and was "just not feeling right." Friday night she rummaged around in the medicine cabinet, and took some prescription medications (not her own) that relieved the pain and helped her sleep.  She tells me that her back has pain radiating from her posterior and that she is feeling not herself.  With that she reaches into her pocket and takes a Tylenol 3 for the pain.

After 20 minutes or so she asks me for a gel.  The Tylenol 3 is giving her stomach pains and she hope that the gel, something that she usually avoids, will settle it down.  Fortunately it does.

When we get to Riffle Ford Road there is no aid station even though there was supposed to be one.  I didn't fill my water bottle at the Route 28 aid station or even at the unofficial one at Black Rock Mill and now I'm out of water; never a good situation. Post-race inquires lead to no explanation as to why it wasn't there or why runners were not told that it would not be there.

Jennifer has a snack approaching Clopper Lake

The Tylenol 3 is starting to work as Jennifer is able to clown around to pretend to gnaw at a tree. But our pace is definitely slowing and I'm concerned that we won't make it to Clopper Lake by the cutoff to start the loop around the lake for the 50K.  It is announced as 11:30 a.m. and I get there right about then or a minute or two later with Jennifer a minute or two behind.

It is clear to me that Jennifer is suffering.  Normally she is excellent on uphills, but today she trudges up the hill to the lake.  Given the time I ask her if she wants to just do the marathon (in actuality, about 29 miles rather than 26.2).  But she insists that she has to do the 50K, both because she has arranged childcare for the day and for training for our upcoming 50 milers and the Black Hills 100K that we are doing on June 28.

So into the loop we go even though it is after 11:30.  The race has traditionally been fairly liberal with its rules and later we learn that because of the adverse footing, the cutoff has been extended to 12 noon.  By now the snow on the trail is pretty much gone and has been replaced with thick mud that alternately grabs at one's shoes or causes one to slip and slide.

Clopper Lake from the Dam after Circumnavigating it

Done with the loop we head toward the next aid station at Route 355.  Jennifer is pretty much plodding on, running some and walking a lot.  I am able to stop in order to send a tweet ("Done with Clopper and headed toward 355, mud, runoff and occasional ice making my hip a bit sore.") and easily catch up to her.

At the 355 aid station (mile 21), Rebecca and Gayatri are waiting.  They have decided to drop out and An is there to gather them up.  Despite her deteriorating condition there is no hesitation from Jennifer about going on.

By now the course is all mud. It is wet mud when the trail is near the creek, and wet mud when going uphill or downhill.  I embrace the day, tweeting at 1:36 p.m., "Past 355 at 21 miles. No longer bothered by the slop. Its kinda fun in a kids way."  In fact, given that the mud is unavoidable there really isn't anything to do about it.  Might as well enjoy it.

Sock adjustment

But Jennifer is beyond enjoyment.  She is pretty much reduced to walked.  Any attempt to run causes back pain. At one point I ask her how she is doing and her eyes well up.  I've never seen her lose her composure like that and it is frightening.

Furthermore, I'm convinced that she suffered a concussion two days earlier.  She said that when she fell it felt like someone hit her in the head with a baseball bat.  While she claims that she never passed out, she admits that she has no recollection of the fall. And she has been feeling nauseous and 'funny' Friday and now today.

Dirty Girl

A woman passes us with her back covered in mud.  She tell me that she has fallen twice.  She is not the only person we see who has had a close encounter with the ground. The lucky ones only have mud on them.  On others there is mud and blood.

We press on. Just past Watkins Mill Road she stops to get the mud out of her shoe.  A few miles further I will do likewise as even wearing gaiters the mud has worked its way into the shoes and made a ball under the arch of my foot.

Don poses in the mud before passing us
 for the final time

In a few hundred yards with both veer off the course in opposite directions to use the natural facilities.  Don, who has been leapfrogging with us, passes me and asks in surprise, "Why am I catching up with you again?"

Relentless forward progress

On we go and surprisingly, we somehow catch up with Don.  But it isn't for long and he passes us for a final time.

Death March
We clear the aid station at Brink Road.  We have about six miles to go.  By now Jennifer has given up any pretense of trying to run. It is a matter of perseverance now for her.  She says how she tells her children that just because something is hard you can't quit.  But this is different, I argue. You are in pain and taking drugs (by now she has taken another Tylenol 3).  There is nothing wrong with stopping when you are in pain and probably have a concussion I argue.  It is no use.  She is intent on going on.

In a couple of miles we come to the crossing of Seneca Creek. There are rocks to cross on, but the creek is up from the runoff and they are mostly at or below the surface.  There is a robe to hold onto to steady oneself, but it is generally slack.  We gingerly climb and slide down the slick bank to the crossing and I start across.  After a few steps the rope flops away from me, I lose my balance and both knees whack against the rocks. Cold water reaches tights, shorts and part of my shirt.

By now our pace has deteriorated that we are regularly being passed.  Appropriately, somewhere south of Watkins Road we smell death.  Somewhere nearby there is a decomposing carcass.  We don't see it but our noses pick up the unmistakable scent.  Since she is already nauseous it must be even worse for her.

The sun is getting low and the temperature is starting to fall.  I'm starting to get cold and my shirt and shorts have not fully dried.  

We cross Watkins Road and the volunteers there tell us how much further to the final aid station at Log House Road.  By now Jennifer's voice has changed.  When she talks it is in a disturbing monotone, devoid of any inflection. A little while later she says that her shoulders are getting hot.

And then she tells me that her eyes are pulling to the left.

Approaching Log Cabin Road with
less than 2 miles to go 

I spend the quarter mile before the Log House Road aid station trying to convince her to drop out there. I know that she won't but I've got to make the effort.  In her flat, affectless voice she insists that since she has gone this far she will go the remain 1.6 miles.  I can only tell her that I 'll continue to stay with her and that I have my phone if I need to dial 911.

On we walk. Finally the trail ends and we come out on the paved path in Damascus Recreational Park.  It is mostly uphill but at least the mud is over. Incredibly, as the finish line comes in sight, Jennifer insists that we run to it.  And so we do, crossing the line in 9:14. Astonishingly we are not DFL. Two runners finish 36 minutes behind us.

Epilogue
Jennifer tries the run the following week but her back continues to hurt. After another week she goes to the doctor.  He tells her no running for 4-6 weeks - she has a broken tailbone as a result of her snowboarding fall.

Later she admits to me that her memory was foggy in the days following her fall. "My boss told me he sent me emails to do things, but I had no recollection that I got them and opened them so I hadn't done what he asked," she said.

You decide: is this a tale of perseverance and true grit, or stubbornness and lack of adaptability?

Rosaryville Veterans' Day 50K - November 9, 2013

To Race or to Run?

.

Gayatri, me, Sam and Rebecca trying to stay warm pre-race.

Gayatri and Sam, who is running her first ultra, have registered in advance for the race, but Rebecca and I had to contact the race director in order to get on the wait list and then get into the race.  The race, in its fourth year, had sold out before we had a chance to register.  We have to register at the park, but our names our on the approved list and registration is fast and easy.

Jeanne warms the pipes prior
to National Anthem.

The day is a bit cool and frost marks the grass in the shade of the pavilion at the start, but Jeanne Lou Who delivers her usual impressive rendition of the National Anthem and off we go.

As the defending Male 60+ Age Group champion at the Rosaryville Veterans' Day 50K I have an early decision to make.  Shall I try to defend my title, the only one I've every won, or should I just enjoy the day?

I mull this over while on the 40 minute drive out to Rosaryville State Park with Gayatri, Sam and Rebecca.  More on my mind though is the thought of getting to go to one of the few Bojangles in the DC area after the race.

The aid station midway thru the loops.

Rebecca and I start off together down the road that leads to the entry to the mountain bike trail that we will run three loops on.  As has become somewhat of a Rosaryville tradition for me I quickly realize that I need an equipment adjustment.  This time I've forgotten to attach my gaiters to my shoes, so we stop and I do so.

Decision Time
After passing the aid station midway through the first loop (there is a second aid station at the entry to the loops) we are joined by a runner I think I  recognize.

Rebecca followed by Tom G.

"Aren't you one of those Bull Run Run 50 Mile guys with lots of finishes?" I ask.

"Yes," he replies, "I have 21."  He's Tom G., and no one has more BRR finishes.

Now it is time to decide whether today is a run or race day.  Tom and I are the same age and I figure that if I want to defend my title, modest though it be, I'll have to beat him.

Rebecca follows me across the footbridge
on the first loop.
(Photo by Jon Valentine)

Last year Rebecca and I ran the first loop together before I set out to try to win the age group.  Now the decision come earlier.  Tom is starting to gradually move away from us.

I decide.  "Enjoy the day," I say to him. I'm going to enjoy a stress-free day in the woods running and chatting with Rebecca.

Which we do. Not even three falls, one each on my hands and knees, on my side and even a rare butt fall can ruin the day.

With three loops the course is designed to allow runners to access their drop bags twice at the aid station at the beginning of the second and third loops.  For late Fall races this is very convenient as it allows one to shed layers or change to lighter clothing as the day goes on.  I start the day with two long sleeve shirts, a hat, buff and gloves and finish with shorts and one shirt with the sleeves pushed up with the surplus clothing stashed in the drop bag.

Painted rocks to trip over.

Tom goes on to win the 60+ age group in 6:08.  Rebecca and I take our time and finish in 6:41, with me being third of five in the age group, 81 of 95 males and 123/147 overall.

Follow the black arrows!

At the finish I thank Race Director Tom D. for the pleasant day for for allowing me to run it even though I missed the on-line sign-up.  He tells me that there are only a handful of people who have run all four of the races and that he'll have to think of something special for five-time finishers in 2014.  I guess I'll have to return then, I reply.

Sam and Gayatri finish in 7:23. Sam also finishes with a souvenir of her first trail ultra - a cracked rib from tripping over a day-glo marked rock.

Bojangles
Once we have all finished it is off to Bojangles for a spicy chicken sandwich, fries and sweet potato pie.  Pretty much a good ending to a good day.

Halloween Darth Vader at trail side

A tree bike for really going off-road.

The trail side dry "aid station".

Four fingers for four finishes!
(Photo by Jon Valentine)

Swag: Hat, Medal and Bib.

Marine Corps Marathon - October 27, 2013

0545 AIS
It's 5:45 a.m. Sunday morning and all five 'As' of Cinco Amigos Tres are 'I' 'Ss' of Jennifer's new-to-her Honda Odyssey. Rebecca, always fearful of being without food, has brought a box of Shoppers' Colossal Donuts (no joke - that's what the box accurately calls them) and a bag of pretzels. We also have the remainder of the pumpkin ring cake that Rebecca brought for dessert to last night's pre-race dinner at our house.  She also brought a chocolate cake and four cartons of ice cream for the seven of us at dinner. The ice cream and chocolate cake don't make it into the car for breakfast.

On the way Emaad entertains us with a description of the Brazil Butt Lift infomercial that he watched when he awoke early.  Jennifer offers her children's leftover jelly beans that are rolling around in the tray between the front seats.  Barry's back is still bothering him from a strain but he is willing to give MCM a shot.  He will be carrying a Metro card in case he finds that he needs to drop.

Getting in Position
Without incident we drive to the Rosslyn Holiday Inn where MCRRC has its hospitality suite.  Along Lee Highway we drive past Marines setting up the water stop just beyond mile 2.  We secure a table, and then discuss what to wear. The morning promises to be cool but the day looks to be mostly sunny with temperatures rising into the mid 50s.  After much of the usual discussion of what to wear - tights? shirts (how many? Long or short sleeves?) Throw away top? Trash bags? Hats? Gloves? Arm warmers? - everyone settles out on their apparel and we move out for the walk to the start line.

Parachutist descends with flag pre-race.

As we approach it - our path takes us along Route 110 toward the start from the front of the course - we see the parachute team descending carrying large American flags.  Just before reaching the start line the Marines stop us by the starting howitzer and I'm excited that I'll get a close-up picture of it firing for the start of the wheelchair racers at 7:55.  After a couple of minutes we are waved along and we make our way into the starting area.    We walk a bit toward the rear so as not to be up with the faster runners.  We move to the median of Route 110 to be out of the way of the runners on both sides.

Plans

(l to r) Emaad, Rebecca, Barry, Jennifer and I keep warm at the start.

At precisely 8:00 a.m. the howitzer fires again for the start of the race.  MCM does not use corrals to separate fast runners from slower runners.  Instead it has pylons with estimated times that allows runners to self-seed themselves.  Since we are standing toward the front of the crowd, we allow runners to flow past us.  We allow the 4:00 pacer to go by with her sign and balloons and in a short while discard our trash bags and other disposable warm-ups before joining the runners walking toward the starting mat.  We comment about the amount and quality of warm-up gear disposed as runners head forward and I briefly pick up a banana before reluctantly putting it back down.

Runners descend Spout Run past mile 3.

Barry drops back but the other four of us trot on ahead.  Emaad's goal is to run 4:10.  He's asked Rebecca to help pace him.  Jennifer plans to finish.  She can run fast, but a lack of training may keep her from using the speed.  My goal is a bit fuzzy.  I'd like to run abut 4:30 and I'm wearing a pace band for that goal, but I'm also planning to be happy to be under 4:45.  I'll let the day unfold in its own manner.

Less than a mile in we head up the slight hill into Rosslyn and I tell the others to go on.  I drop back and go thru the first mile in about 10:35, a pretty leisurely pace that suggests that it won't be a fast day.  But even before we get out of Rosslyn and turn onto Lee Highway I catch up to the other three.  That apparently is enough of a spur for Emaad and he takes off.  About mile 2 Rebecca and Jennifer decide to avail themselves of the Porta-potties and I go on alone.

Scenes from a Marathon

On Rock Creek Parkway about mile 9.

As I catch up with a pair of women running with shirts with 'Mexico' on them, I greet them with a "Viva Mexico!"  They respond with a "vamos!" which I do.

Running up stream in Rock Creek Park around mile 6 I pull even with a woman wearing the technical shirt given out at the expo to the runners.  It replaced the traditional mock turtleneck that was reviled by every woman runner that I know.  "You are tempting the marathon gods," I tell her.  "What do you mean?" she replies. "You are wearing the shirt for the race before I have run it," I say.  Another runner chimes in, "It's bad karma."  "Never heard that" she says and goes on to explain that she hadn't brought enough shirts for the cool weather.  Since this is her fourth MCM, I tell her that I'm sure it will be OK.

 Eighty-six wheel racers finish the race, most in the hand crank division.  Most runners are encouraging to these athletes and admire their ability to get their bodies and wheels up hills using nothing but their arms and hands.  Unfortunately there are also ignorant, self-centered runners who insist on running with headphones and the volume turned up so high that they can't hear the shouts of "Move left" and impede the progress of the wheel racers, especially on the downhills.  Fortunately for the ignorant - and maybe for me - they are too far in front of me to for me to do anything but shout.  And shout I do.  Had I been closer . . . .

It isn't just wheel racers and persons in shirts with pictures of fallen friends, siblings, spouses and family members who remind the rest of us at MCM that there is high price paid by those who practice diplomacy by other means.  About mile 9 I come upon the runner pictured above. And the sign on his back indicates that he runs for others as well.

Somewhere past the Kennedy Center near mile 10 some runners and I joke about where we are relative to other runners.  I note that while there are thousands of runners ahead of us there are also thousands behind us.  I say that my goal is to finish in the top 4 digits, i.e, not be beaten by 10,000.

DC fireboat salutes runners.

The stretch of the course along the Potomac approaching the halfway mark at Hains Point is nearly 2 miles long.  Race photographers sit near the entrance to East Potomac Park and on scaffolding over it to snap pictures of the runners cheering and waving for the cameras.  Past the photo location crowds drop off appreciably and the runners are left to contemplate what, over the past several years, has become known as "The Blue Mile."

Along the side of the course is a row of equally spaced signs with blue backgrounds.  Each sign has the name of a service member and their picture along with the date and location of their death in the wars of the past eleven years.  Each year the row gets longer. A row of persons clad in blue suits holds American flags after the row of pictures.   It is a somber moment even for those self-absorbed with their run.

Throughout the race I have been seeing members of the MCRRC First Time Marathoners group.  I give them encouragement and sometimes chat with them.  Quite by chance I chat up Conroy Z, one of the directors of the program.  In response to a question he tells me that only 40 percent of the persons in the program are actually doing their first marathon; the other 60 percent have completed one or more marathons.

Approaching the Capitol near mile 18.

About mile 17 I catch up to Ray, an MCM fixture who carries a flag in the race.  I ask him if I may carry it a bit and, like last year, he agrees.  A Marine along the side of the course comes to attention and salutes.  I carry it a bit and then he says that he needs to walk and can't keep up with me.  I thank him for allowing me the honor and return the flag to him.

The Marathon Begins NOW
At mile 20, I tweet "Mile 20. The marathon begins NOW."  There are shirts that joke "A marathon is a just 10K following a 20 mile warm-up."  There is some truth in this, especially at MCM.  At mile 20 the course heads across the 14th Street bridge from DC to Virginia.  The next two miles are a long stretch with none of the crowds that have been inspiring runners for most of the day.  Runners start to walk.  One can see far ahead and progress seems slow.  I try to stay focused.

I'm getting a bit tired but it is more mental than physical.  One side of my brain says it is OK to walk, the other side says stay strong. Finally about mile 22 we make the turn into Crystal City where more crowds await to rejuvenate the runners. I've slowed down a bit in mile 22 but the crowds give me energy to maintain the pace thru mile 23.

But the course turns into a long slow uphill with fewer crowds on the back side of Crystal City.  I avoid walking in front of the enthusiastic rooters at the milepost, but start walking afterward.  I spot the refreshment tables up ahead and veer toward them, but retract my hand and swerve away when I see that they are not giving out drinks but instead are offering donut holes, about the last thing I want to eat at this time. The next water stop is about a third of a mile along and I drink before heading under I-395 for the run - without crowds - around the Pentagon parking lot and onto Washington Boulevard. By now I'm walking more.

On Washington Boulevard, just passed the Pentagon 9-11 memorial, I spot shadows approaching on either side. "Hi, Ken," Rebecca bubbles as Jennifer pulls up on the other side.  It has taken them 22 miles, but they have run me down.

"Go on," I urge.  Rebecca nods and pulls away.  Jennifer claims that she is spent from their effort to catch up with me but I know that she is just being kind.  When I walk she walks.  I try to gain strength from her and it helps, particularly on the downhills.  She's talking away.  Meanwhile my world view is shrinking and all I can concentrate on is moving forward.  I'm not sure that I can even hear her or process what she is saying or even understand the words.  Finally I apologize and ask her to stop talking.  She says she understands and stops.

At mile 26 we make the left turn to go up the hill to the Marine Corps Memorial.  I walk, then I run, then I have to stop running.  As we approach the last 100 yards in front of the spectator stands Jennifer tells me we have to run.  It's what I need to hear.  We run - probably slowly - but it feels right and we finish side-by-side.

Top Four Digits 
My 4:27:58 is my second fastest marathon time (4:34 slower than my 2012 MCM marathon PR) and is good for 113 of 394 in the M60-64 age group and 6594 of 13,530 males.  More importantly it is good for 9627 out of the 23,521 finishers, allowing me to finish before the counter turned over the fifth digit.  Oorah!

Emaad finishes in a 12 minute PR of 4:08.  Rebecca finishes in 4:26.  Barry, after passing the Blue Mile, decided that quitting was not appropriate, especially as his back started to loosen up, goes on the finish in a bit over 5 hours.

Bonus Post Race Report

Jennifer and I get congratulations
from USMC lieutenant at finish.

Just beyond the finish I lean over the railing at the side of the course to catch my breath and regain some strength.  After a couple of minutes we get in line to gather our finisher's medals.  In the tradition of MCM, a USMC lieutenant drapes the medal over one's neck, straightens up and salutes the finisher.  I return the salute.

As we work our way to the exit from the finisher area, we get our snack boxes, bananas, Gatorade, water and disposable poncho.  We are nearly out of the area when Rebecca spots us and joins us.

Rebecca stands by fence separating finishers
from 'zombie' spectators.

Leaving the finishers' area we see hundreds of spectators and family members on the other side of a temporary chain link fence anxiously scanning for their runners.  It reminds me a bit of the zombies outside the fence on the Walking Dead.  The spectators don't seem amused when I share my observation that they look a bit like zombies to me.

With the Watermelon Queen post-race.

Finally we exit the area and start our walk back to the Holiday Inn.  But there is one more treat still to be had.  There on the street are representatives of the the National Watermelon Promotion Board handing out packages of the refreshing red fruit including Watermelon Queens from various states.

Not a bad way to end my eighth MCM.

MCM Swag: Shirt, Medal, Patch, Program, Snack Box and Bib.