Back in August when registration for Stone Cat opened up I think it was a
little too soon after the VT100 for me to commit to another ultra.
Everything was feeling fine but I couldn’t make up my mind so I let it
pass. Of course, once I saw how many of my TMR team mates got in I was
wishing that I could be there with them, and thinking maybe this could
be the year that I could break 8 hours in the 50 miler. Coming off a
fast-for-me Vermont 100 I would, in theory, be in good shape for a 50
mile PR as long as I was smart about recovery and training. As (bad)
luck would have it, Christine realized in mid-August that injury would
prevent her from being able to run the Stone Cat marathon this year so
she offered up her number and I was the first to jump on it. The Stone
Cat RDs were nice enough to let me take her place and even let me
upgrade to the 50. It was on.
Meanwhile, I was being anything but smart about recovery and training. Two weeks
after the VT100 I ran the Breaker, and even though I didn’t run
particularly fast it’s still a pretty tough course with some abusive
climbs and descents. The following week I went up to Camden for the 9
mile Ragged Mountain Run Around, another abusively hilly race. After
three weeks of “easy” running (with a few long runs thrown in) it was
time for the Bruiser and I felt good about putting in a hard effort,
however, my body had other plans. Two miles into the race I noticed a
dull ache in my left achilles, which progressively developed into a
sharp pain with every step. Shortly after entering the O-Trail my left
calf, which had been overworked while compensating for the achilles
issue decided it had enough and just stopped working. I stumbled to save
myself from falling and when my right foot slammed into the ground my
right calf seized up and I collapsed. I lay there screaming while both
calves cramped and spasmed and it looked as if there were snakes
writhing under my skin. But I needed to earn that Bad Ass hoodie so I
got up and finished the race. I could barely walk for the next three
days and running was out of the question, until the following Saturday
when Emma and I ran the Big Brad Ultra 50k Pounder course in about 6 ½ hours. I honestly didn’t think I’d make it up the first climb, but everything held together and I didn’t feel
significantly worse after the run. I did feel bad enough that I only ran
once during the following week, until the next weekend when I paced
Dave for 42 miles at the Virgil Crest 100.
Over the next few weeks I pretty much said “Fuck You” to my achilles as I
attempted to train for the Stone Cat 50. While my weekly mileage wasn’t
where I wanted it to be I was still getting out for a lot of technical,
hilly trail runs. Certainly not the best way to recover from an achilles
injury and the pain continued. By mid-October I started to realize that
the 50 miler was not a good idea, even if I could make it to the start
line of the race I would be woefully under-trained for my time goal and
there would be a high likelihood of either completely destroying my
achilles or unearthing some new injury over the course of the race.
Certainly not worth it for another 8+ hour finishing time. But the
marathon...
Maybe I did have one good race left in me this year. The obvious goal would
be to try to beat my time from 2008, the only other time I’d run the
marathon at Stone Cat. But wait, if I’m too injured to run 50 miles what
reason do I have to think I can PR at the marathon? Shouldn’t this be
just about finishing and avoiding more serious injury, and maybe having
fun in the process? Sorry body, I can’t let you do that.
Friday night Emma and I met Jim to watch “The Man with the Iron Fists.” The
perfect way to prepare for the carnage of a trail marathon. It was my
fear, however, that the race course would be the one wielding the sword
and I would be the one laying in a bloody heap when the day was done.
Saturday morning I got up at 3AM, met Joe just before 4AM and then picked up
Mindy a few minutes later and we made our way to Ipswich, MA. We arrived
with plenty of time to register, place our drop bags and hang out with
the team. Then wait for the 50 miler start and learn that the marathon
would be starting 15 minutes after, instead of starting together as in
years past. It was a perfect temperature for running, but a little too
cold for standing around outside in shorts for 45 minutes.
The chill that had set in probably lead to a start that was a little too
quick but I needed to do something to warm up. My achilles immediately
protested at the the sub-8-minute pace of the first mile, but luckily it
eased off once I was warmed up. I had positioned myself right behind
Julia even though I knew this was a pretty risky move. Julia’s goal was a
few minutes faster than my previous time (I had been coaching her to
break the course record time of 3:42), and even though I know her
training was much more consistent (and pain-free) than mine I couldn’t
resist letting her pull me along. Despite everything I should have
learned over the years I never can seem to start out at a relaxed pace
when I think there’s even an outside chance that I might be able to pull
off a decent race. I have just accepted that this is the way I run.
Knowing that Julia probably was starting out at a fairly conservative
pace I didn’t expect to stay with her for too long, but I was also very
curious to see how she was going to do.
By 3 miles into the race the sun was up enough that I could turn off my
headlamp, and since we had not yet caught up to the 50 milers we
continued to move along at a decent pace. When we reached the swamp
which last year was flooded with nearly-knee-deep water I looked around
and marveled at how dry it was this year, practically a dirt road...
THUMP! I caught my toe on absolutely nothing, continued my leg turnover
and forward momentum in a nearly horizontal position until my right knee
slammed into the ground. With all four limbs flailing I managed to get
back on my feet without significantly slowing my pace. I glanced down
at my knee, no exposed bone or gaping skin flaps so I just kept on
going. But it did hurt.
Julia had started to pull away and Nathan passed me so I refocused on keeping
the two of them in sight and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in my
knee. Al Cat’s aid station was a welcome distraction with many familiar
faces, and even though I didn’t take any aid it was a great early boost
and I soon caught back up to Nathan and then Julia. David was out on the
course as a spectator, finding all the shortcuts to stay ahead of Julia
and we both benefited from his yips and hiyas.
For the rest of the first lap I was feeling good, the pain in my knee
subsided and my achilles wasn’t a significant issue. The pace felt like I
was working hard, definitely harder than I would have gone had I not
been trying to tag along with Julia, but I became optimistic that I
might be able to keep this up for a while. At around 11 miles we came to
a fork in the trail where the obvious path went left, but the course
marking went right. I was just about to call Julia back from making a
wrong turn when I realized that she had gone the right way. I surely
would have got it wrong. A few minutes later we saw a couple runners we
recognized as having passed earlier coming at us from a trail on our
left. I recognized the trail we were on from previous years so I knew we
had it right, I told these two guys they had gone wrong and they
immediately turned back. A few minutes later we came up on another small
group of runners and we recognized several of them as people we had
passed before, knowing they had inadvertently made the same short-cut,
but at this point it seemed like too much work to try and explain to
them what they had done wrong so we passed them again and cruised in to
finish the first lap.
Mindy, Val, Ryan and Alison were there keeping the TMR camp running and they
provided a much appreciated boost, but both Julia and I were focused on
moving through as quickly as possible. We picked up fresh handheld
bottles and headed back out without actually stopping. 1:49 for the
first 13.7 miles. I was psyched for Julia knowing that she was on track
for her goal, I just hoped I could hang on.
About a mile into the second lap we caught up to Joe who was walking up the
first of the significant hills on the course. We passed Joe but I
started to think that his 50 mile pace was much more appealing than the
one I was trying to run. I was definitely starting to feel the effects
of the distance and the pace as we made our way up and down a series of
hills. By the time the course flattened back out my everything had
started to ache. Achilles, knee, quads, core, arms (WFT?). I came to the
realization that I couldn’t keep up with Julia any longer and by 17
miles she was gone. Along with a mental low that came from running alone
I started to get worried that I was on the cusp of turning these aches
and pains into a full-on injury if I wasn’t careful. I consciously
decided to ease off the pace for a while in hopes that I could pick it
back up again for the last few miles and have a strong finish.
The one and only aid station I stopped at was at 21 miles, my water was
getting low, but the reality was that I needed an excuse to stop for a
moment and get my shit together. I didn’t stop for long but it was long
enough for me to have a bit of a reset and assess where I was at.
Everything still hurt, and my calves felt like they were on the verge of
cramping, so I kept the pace easy for the next two miles. I lost a few
places along this stretch and was even passed by a few 50 milers whom I
had passed earlier. With each one I wanted to hang on, but I knew it was
too soon to make a move. By 23 miles I actually started to feel like
myself again and I picked the pace up. Nothing heroic, but it started to
feel like I was racing again instead of just trying to finish. With 1
mile to go I began to reel in a runner who had passed me a few miles
prior. By the time we hit the field that leads to the finish line he
knew I was on his tail and we both ran hard to the line. With the Trail
Monster crew cheering I was closing the gap but ran out of course and he
finished about 5 seconds ahead of me. But I really wasn’t concerned
about the place, just grateful that I was able to get back into the race
for a strong finish. 3:44 and a 2-minute PR on the course. 17th out of
216 starters/210 finishers.
Julia was there right after I crossed the line, having come in 5 minutes
before me, breaking the old course record by 3 minutes! Unfortunately
there were two other women who also broke the course record ahead of her
this year, but she had a great race as I knew she would. I put some
warm layers on and spent the rest of the day with the Trail Monster crew
cheering on the rest of our runners. Danielle was next in, then Nathan,
Kevin, George, Rick and Ann in the marathon and Jeremy and Joe in the
50. It was a great day for the team.
8 comments:
Yay a gIANt post! Congrats on a fantastic race and PR. You made it look easy as usual, never would have known you hit a rough patch. Onto the ultras of 2013!
Incredible. The second paragraph = quintessential Trail Monster crazy/wonderfulness. I hope you can get some righteous recovery happening soon and then who knows what you'll do when you're actually feeling good?! Congratulations on the wicked PR and on the coaching of Julia to the record!
Hurray for a great post!! And congrats on a PR and great race despite the injury and rough patch!
great report .. almost felt like I was back out there
great report .. almost felt like I was back out there
This was a treat to read on my lunch break. Congrats, Ian!!!
Congratulations on the PR, especially given the less than optimal training! And, given that list of injuries, it sounds like you should take a few weeks off and ski this winter with James and me!
Great PR man, especially with the injuries this Fall and all you've been through this year. Really great that you pushed yourself for a while and were able to regroup and kick it in for a racing finish. Super excited for you to kick-ass in snowshoe season!
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