What's found at mile 50

I have a process for making decision about things like races, upgrading bikes and taking on new challenges.  When I find whatever it is that I want I know that it's what I want almost immediately, but I drag out the final decision as a way to humor the normal decision making process.  That's what I did with the 50 mile trail race.  There were marathons I was considering but I've done plenty of those.  There was the appeal to run a Boston Qualifying time, something I haven't done, but that appeal was outweighed by the opportunity to run a distance that continues to push the bounds of sanity.

Race morning I was up a little after 5 because I had to pick up my race packet prior to the race.  I had no idea how busy it would be so I figured I'd give myself plenty of time to get organized at the race site.  The hotel Meghann (my person), my parents and I were at was right across the street from the park that served as the start and finish line.  I ended up being the first athlete at the race site but was very much welcomed by the volunteers and race director.  I can't say I've been to another race where the race director comes up and personally introduces himself and thanked me for coming out.  That became the common theme of the morning as I sat and got ready by one of the fire pits.  The race directors brother came and shook my hand and began talking to me.  Not too long after all these great introductions Meghann and my parents showed up.  We mostly stood around the fire as more athletes continued to arrive.  The clock was nearing 7:00 AM and I started shedding my sweat pants and sweat shirt.  I buckled up my water bottle belt and slid my mother's hand held water bottle on, I was ready.

Pre-race warm up

One item I didn't research ahead of time but was pretty confident of, was proper warm up, or lack there of, for such a long run.  As the runners slowly gathered by the starting line it was apparent that a couple jumps and arm flaps and kicks were sufficient enough as we'd all just warm up as we started running.  If you've ever been to a marathon or any running race for that matter, the starting line usually resembles this mass herd all trying to smash out of a narrow starting shoot; that couldn't have been farther from the truth for this race.  The horn went and everyone slowly started to turn a walk in to a run, right away from the onset it was easy to see that this type of race favored the patient.  No reason to hurry out the gate when you're given 11.5 hours to complete the distance ahead.

It's 7 AM and the race is about to start

My plan was to go out easy, not be in a hurry and run free.  I expected to start out slow as I was cool from the morning and was using the beginning miles as warm up.  The race was all on the Des Plaines River Trail which is a crushed manicured path that rolls for miles upon miles.  The race route had us start south as we were to cover about a mile then turn around and head north doubling back to where we started before heading another 24 miles north to the turnaround.  The path was busy with the 125 registered runners all close together.  There was lots of talking and people being friendly as I simply became content in the beautiful woods and fall colors.  We came up on the first volunteer having us take a right on the path and not too long after we were greeted by a local legend Marathon Matt and his son.  He instructed us that just up ahead to stay left.  I simply followed the pack as the group kept running.  I wasn't paying much attention to how long or how far we'd gone, I wasn't wearing my GPS watch anyway, but up ahead I saw people coming back towards us.  The man out in front was closely followed by a bunch of other runners waving their hands saying "there's no turnaround, just turn around here and head back!".  I wasn't sure if it was a joke but we all started to turn and then provide the same guidance to those who were running towards us.  Not long after we saw that first volunteer on his bike zipping past us as runners let him know there was no turnaround.  He shook his head and continued on to find any stragglers.  It was estimated that we went an extra half mile beyond where the turnaround should have been.  I heard a few grumbles but for the most part no one cared all that much.

One the way back to the starting line (heading north) I saw a woman wearing an Ironman Kona visor.  I started chatting with her as we discussed how she had went to Kona to watch a friend.  She had participated in Ironman Canada and was signed up to compete in Ironman Texas next year.  I gave her my pointers on Texas.  Her name was Katherine and she was from Seattle.  She has a local friend who she was staying with and whom was there at the race to cheer her on.  She does a lot of traveling to races for herself as well as her friends.  As we approached the start line she pointed out her friend and ran and gave her a hug, Meghann was on the right side of the trail and my parents on the left.  I had just eaten my first GU so I was waiving the empty packet and smiling at Meghann as I passed.

Waiving an empty GU packet

 I had made the decision to incorporate an additional water bottle in to my race strategy as my big water bottle was my Perpetuem/water mix and thought it would be best to have a constant source of water only to help process the GU and Perpetuem.  The race was laid out with 7 total water stations with distances that ranged from 2.5 to 7 miles apart.  There was only one stretch of 7 miles on each half of the race so for the most part it was about 5 miles from station to station.  Katherine and I ran together until some time after aid station #2.  The trail was never very flat or very straight.  It flowed much like the river it was named after and crossed.  We weaved under a fabulous canopy of reds, oranges and yellows.  There were times that the forest floor was completely covered with autumn leaves.  I couldn't even see the path as the blanket of leaves was so thick.  The path took us under some road ways and at about mile 6 the path was under water.  We could either go through the water and get soaked or slowly and gently walk over the rocks under the bridge.  It was easy to navigate the rocks but I couldn't help think of how this was going to work at mile 46.

The first 'manned' aid station was mile 7.5, it was well in the woods and wasn't really an opportunity for those spectating to come and view.  There was a timing mat to run over and the normal ultra provisions: GU, bananas, sports drink, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  I stopped and filled up my hand held water bottle as I was working to be diligent in my hydration.  After filling I picked back up and continued on.  Not far ahead was a muscular looking guy wearing all black and had some wicked tattoos on his arms.  As I got closer I recognized the white symbol on the back of his black shirt, it was that of a soldier carrying another soldier, the logo for the Wounded Warrior Project.  I made an assumption that he was military and began removing my right glove.  Once I got next to him I asked if he was raising money for the Wounded Warrior Project?  He smiled and chuckled and said that he is a wounded warrior.  I thanked him for his service and shook his hand.  I continued on but heard his foot steps behind me, he had begun running again and struck up a conversation.  He was telling me that he's active Navy and stationed in the Chicago area and trains Navy Seals.  He and a friend of his Tom decided to do the race about 13 weeks ago.  He told me he's never ran more than 16 miles and said that he figures that doing this 50 miles was way better than being back overseas running over there.  He had an accent that I asked about and he said he's from the Carolinas.  He goes down to South Carolina quite often as he and his brother own a condo down in Myrtle Beach.  He said Chicago is as North as he'll go as he prefers the warm.  He began to go back to his run walk strategy and we wished each other well. 

The miles continued and I felt as good as I could expect.  I had questions about pacing and from what I was able to gather from experienced ultra runners was to start slow.  I made the decision to not where my GPS watch so I didn't know what slow was from a time perspective but my breathing was good, when I'd be having these conversations I wasn't feeling uncomfortable so I figured I was doing fine.  I continued to eat my GU, drink my Perpetuem, take a salt tab and drink my water.  It gave me something to do during the times I wasn't talking.  As the pack thinned out I began to try and shorten the course by running tangents.  The course was winding through the forest so I was trying to make as many straight lines as possible.  I figured anything I could do to shorten the day wouldn't hurt and it also gave me something to do.

According to Meghann I passed her by here and opted for a later kiss

I began running with a woman at about the half marathon point.  She was moving along smoothly and had her ear buds in listening to music.  She said something to me that I kept with me all day, she called the 50 miler a 'foot race.'  Obviously any running race was a foot race, but conceptually I took it to mean that the idea is to cover the distance by any means necessary on foot.  Her definition seemed distinctly different than calling it a running race or even a race - which to me implied always pushing hard and maximizing your effort.  Her calm and ease for moving forward was the definition of doing a 'foot race.'  We ran until she split off to the bathroom somewhere between mile 14 and 21 (the longest stretch between aid stations).  I was beginning to wonder when I'd see Meghann and my parents.  Most all the aid stations were at different forest parks that were accessible to the trail.  With the race material we were given maps and directions for spectators (watchers) to move from park to park to follow along the runners they were supporting.  As I approached mile 21 I saw my crew.  It was a nice lift as it had been some 19 or so miles since seeing them.  I stopped at the station and filled up my water.  I looked over the aid station table for anything else I may want, but stuck with my GU.  They told me they'd stay there and see me after I turned around.  I got a kiss from Meghann and continued ahead the 5 miles to the next aid station and more importantly the turnaround.

Jogging on the way out near some other racers

As I moved along on the trail things were already thinning out but there was still a steady group that was running near me.  I began running with a man whom had done the North Face Endurance Challenge earlier in the year.  He had done the 50k.  He was telling me how he always races expecting something to go wrong.  He referenced the snafu with the first turnaround and how he just rolls with it.  I added how it didn't really seem to bother anyone out there.  He said that if we finished together we should just keep running an extra 1.4 miles so we could complete a double marathon, we both laughed, but at that time that didn't seem like a bad idea.  He moved ahead of me and continued on looking strong.  I was probably 2-3 miles out from the turnaround when I saw the leader coming my way.  He was the same man I remember seeing at the first turn around, he was wearing all white and was only holding a small water bottle in his right hand.  He looked smooth.  It was probably another mile or so before I saw an older man running towards me.  I couldn't tell what he was doing because one of his long sleeves appeared to be dangling.  As he got closer I realized that he only had one arm.  He was probably in his 50's and he was #2 in the race and well in front of me.  There was a steady stream of lead runners coming at me for the next couple miles up until I turned.  At mile 26 I sat down as sitting just sounded good.  I had a bag there waiting for me that had my restock of GUs, and extra pair of socks and an extra long sleeve shirt and my second bottle of Perpeteum.  Although it sprinkled for a large portion of the run so far, I wasn't all that wet so I only grabbed GUs and swapped my large water bottle.  I got up and moved along.

The smile wasn't rare at each opportunity to see my support team

It was nice seeing people that I had either ran with or passed coming towards me.  I got some high 5's and smiles and that was welcome.  As I was in to the second half of the race and now logging miles I've never done consecutively I began to be smarter about the hills.  The course is considered to be relatively flat but there was a constant stream of rolling hills.  On the way back I decided to power walk the hills.  This strategy seems to be almost an ultra racer rule.  On the way out I did walk a couple hills as well so I figured I'd be more diligent about it on the way back.  I was having some knee and hip discomfort, which I expected as I tired and my muscles tired.  The pain wasn't affecting my ability to run so I kept moving swiftly along.  What I became thankful for was not having my GPS watch and what I began to set my mind to was simply covering distance.  As I got to mile 31 where Meghann and my parents were waiting I was beginning to feel the muscle fatigue.  I sat down again to take my shoes off and dump out the small rocks that made their way in.  I had figured that this was from the power walking I was doing which kicked small pebbles up from the path and in to my shoes, this wasn't a problem on the way out but I was running in a more normal fashion then, where now I was tiring and power walking more.  I filled up my water bottle and when Meghann asked how I felt, I said "like shit, my knees hurt and my hips hurt."  I kept going.  This was the stretch I was least excited for, I just left my crew and had 7 miles until the next aid station, this was the longest no aid station stretch for the down and back.  I knew that about half way between was a bathroom stop, which I didn't need, but was something to cut up the time.  I was able to continue with running the flats/downs and power walking the hills.  As a would begin up an incline I was beginning to have a lot more pain in my joints, at that point there was no running the hills even if I wanted to because it hurt so bad.  The course at this time also became very empty.  Before I had gotten to mile 31 I had seen the last person still heading to the turnaround, so at this point I'd either have to catch someone or be caught by others.  I didn't catch anyone, but there were a few here and there that passed me by.  I continued to push through the pain on the hills and do my best to run.  The scenery was mostly familiar as I recognized things from the way out.  As I approached the next aid station I began to do some race math: this aid station is mile 37, that means there is a half marathon left, after that aid station it's 5 miles to the next, then another 2.5 miles, yet another 2.5 and then 2.5 to the finish.  I knew that after this next stop the aid stations were closer together.  At mile 37 I was happy to see Meghann and my parents.  After spending all this time alone out there seeing smiling faces was well received.  Meghann must have been concerned with how much I was eating because she began asking me at the last aid station about food and continued at this one.  I probably wasn't eating as much as I should as I had slowed down on my GU consumption and had only grabbed a single potato chip at the previous aid station.  The volunteer at mile 37 told me to try a grilled cheese, sounded good, I ate the triangular sandwich and was mildly satisfied...cheddar cheese...not that I don't appreciate a good cheddar and I shouldn't be picky as I'm being offered a kitchen made sandwich in the middle of the woods, but cheddar just doesn't do it for me at home, let alone at mile 37 of a 50 mile race.  As I was sitting and getting the rocks out of my shoes my mom reminded me that all I had left was the distance of that first race her and my dad came out to watch - my first half marathon back in 2009.  Her statement was very true, but at that time all I thought about and what I replied with was "you mean the race I hobbled in from 1.5 miles out because my knee hurt so bad?"  I said it with a smile and hope it didn't come across negatively.  I was happy for the talk and happy for their thoughts and well wishes, it truly made a huge difference in this long day.  I got up, kissed Meghann and slugged ahead.

Lonesome runner or walker

Shortly after leaving the aid station I realized I had to go to the bathroom, something that hadn't happened since some miles in the teens.  One of the benefits of a race 100% in the woods, endless amounts of bathroom access (sorry ladies).  I hopped off the path and leaned against a tree for a bathroom break.  I took note that my pee was almost orange, I was obviously dehydrated.  I was filling my water bottle at each station and emptying it before the next but I needed to try and take more in.

Time was irrelevant on the way back from the turnaround but never more prevalent then these next 8 miles.  I was confident in my ability to finish because I could still power walk, running hurt and I could do it, slowly, but if I lost my ability to run I knew I could push ahead.  I had no sense of time as the only reference to how long I was out there was when I asked my mom what time it was when I was at mile 31; I think she said 12:15 or 12:45, which means I was out there for over 5 hours.  At this point I only cared about covering distance and for some reason I kept thinking that I'd finish at 9 hours and 20 minutes, but had no reason to think that.  Mile 37 to 45 were by far the hardest of the day.  My attempts to run were quickly met with pain and fatigue at levels I've never experienced.  I'd never had my thighs hurt so bad that they wanted nothing more than to quit.  I wasn't going to quit, I'd come this far and I knew walking was possible, also if I had quit I had no idea when someone would come along to actually contact someone to tell them I couldn't continue, and then who knew how I'd actually get back to the finish line; put all that together and I needed to move on.  Although I could hardly run I continued to try.  I'd get to a flat or a slight downhill and give running another try.  This continued for those 8 painful miles. 

This almost looks like a run

There were three aid stations left before the finish, the first one about 5 miles away, followed by another 5 miles, then 2.5 to the last unmanned station, then 2.5 to the finish.  13 miles broken up in to 4 stretches.  5 more miles was all I cared about. 

The pain continued on in and there was less and less running despite my best efforts to run.  I don't remember much about the next 5 miles other than coming to the next station, emptying out the rocks from my shoes and giving some sport drink a try.  The sports drink was mixed from powder on site and the cup I grabbed had began to separate from liquid on the top to powder at the bottom.  It tasted like peach or some other sweet fruit I wouldn't eat in it's fruit form.  I kept power walking and just wanted it all to end.  It was a test of patience more than anything, I feel I did a great job at this time just enduring and staying focused on the fact that I was right where I should be and that I couldn't speed things up, fast forward time or skip any step between that time and the end of the 50 miles.

Somewhere out there where I was hurting

 Something happened prior to 7.5 miles left.  Prior to arriving at the station I was running.  I decided I'd try to run as hard as I could.  It seemed that pushing my hardest had me running in my most natural form and helped negate some of the pain and discomfort.  I felt as if I was running the fastest I had all day.  I tried not to think about how far I was going or how many miles to the aid station, I just ran!  It felt great, it hurt, but it was the best feeling hurt I'd had this entire second half of the race.  I got to the station and was warmly greeted by the volunteers.  I sat down again to empty my shoes and asked the volunteers to fill up my hand held water bottle.  As I was sitting one of the volunteers asked if there was anything I needed, I asked for anything to help my busted up legs.  She said they had some alcohol.  I told her I smelt it in her breath and then she laughed.  Smelled as some schnaps or something.  I passed and took off.  I was running again and got excited to pass these final miles.

The underpass was coming shortly, the one that was flooded, I was running on my approach as a couple families were walking to me that had several children.  The trails had been open to the public all day and there was a steady dose of bikers, walkers and families throughout the day.  This particular group was my least favorite.  I saw them from a distance but they didn't seem to care I was coming.  As I got closer and closer they didn't seem concerned with moving their children to one side or another until I stopped a foot in front of a 3 year old boy.  The boy looked up at me not knowing what was going on, then finally one of the 3 or 4 adults moved the boy aside and I said something like "I'm 48 miles in..." in the most disgusted voice I could muster.  My mileage was off, but my frustration was real.  I moved ahead to the flooded path and began the shaky crossing of the rocks.  There was a group of runners on the other side that suggested I take my time and go slow.  I can only liken that gingerly walk as to having the agility of a drunk at bar time.  I must have looked like one of those people pulled over for drunk driving on the show 'Cops' that were failing a sobriety test miserably.  I managed to make it over the rocks and not break anything or face-plant terribly.

One on the other side of the rocks the group of runners cheered me on as I walked up to one of the many bridges that went over the Des Plaines River.  At the crest of the bridge when I started running I did my best to scream out in enthusiasm.  My throat was dry and I didn't have much of a voice but I let out my biggest "WOO".  It was the most emotional I had been all day and I was running and beginning to cry.  I was filled with the joy that I was 5 miles away from finishing, 2.5 from the last water station and so close to doing the craziest thing I've ever considered, all while having the people I love right there with me along the way.  It was a rush.  It continued to the next hill, which was met with walking!

About a mile from the final aid station I came upon a woman walking, I could see that she was wearing an Marine Corp Marathon shirt underneath her top shirt.  As I passed I asked her if she had done that this year; for some reason I think that already happened but really have no clue.  She said she did it last year.  I then asked her if she'd carry me?  She laughed as I continued by and then replied "you're doing better than me and you've gone twice as far!"  I didn't realize that she was doing the marathon.  They allowed the marathoners to be on the course until they shut down the race for the 50 milers (11.5 hours).  Had I known I would have said something more encouraging.  Not long after seeing her I was at the last aid station 2.5 miles out from the finish.  I filled up my water bottle and kept moving. 

A half mile later I turned and saw a familiar face.  It was the woman I had run with on the way out, the one who called the 50 miler a "foot race".  She was smoothly approaching like she could have been on mile 10.  When I had left her back at the bathroom back around mile 15 or so I told her I'd see her again.  As she came up to me I yelled "I told you I'd see you again!"  I was happy to see a familiar face.  She replied "I didn't think I'd catch you!"  She then encouraged me to run along with her, so I picked it back up and we ran.  She asked again where I was from and I said Madison, she apologized because she remembered asking me that previously.  I told her not to apologize as that was a long long long time ago!  She asked how many of these I'd done, I said it was my first and she immediately got excited saying "you're doing awesome.  You'll be done right around 9 hours and that's phenomenal!"  It was a great lift and nice to know that a woman who was about to complete her 5th 50 miler was complementing me.  We ran for about a mile and then saw my favorite sign of the day "Finish 1 mile".  I told her that I needed to walk a little and then would press ahead.  She said she'd see me at the finish.  It was another great pick me up.

Finishing up my first run with my dad

 After walking a tad bit more I began to run again.  I picked up as I had done around mile 45.  At that point I didn't care, the pain, the hurt, the distance, the time, all out the window as I was getting emotional again but running hard.  I made a turn and looked ahead and saw my dad waiving.  Once I got close he started jogging with me.  I'd never run with my dad.  He just turned 74 a few weeks ago and after a fall many years ago spends most of the time on his feet in pain.  I wasn't sure how far out from the finish we were but I was impressed and happy to have him there next to me.  My emotions were high and having him there was motivation enough to keep me going.  He kept telling me the finish was just around the corner.  I began to see the buildings I hadn't seen since before the light of day that were surrounding the finish line.  After I final turn I saw my mom and Meghann, all smiles.  My dad peeled off as I saw Meghann scampering towards the finish line for some final pictures.  I kept running on in and crossed the finish.

Final strides to the finish line after 51+ miles

 The race clock said 9:05 and my tears continued.  I stopped moving and stood by the rope separating the finish chute from the spectators.  Meghann was there with a congratulatory kiss and hug.  We were quickly joined by my parents.

Clock reads 9:05:22

 I did it.  50 miles.  Actually a little over 51.  It was a strange day without the concept of time.  It didn't feel long or short, just far.  No frame of reference for what time it was or how long I'd been moving.  Each step was an accomplishment of its own and a goal.  Every aid station was a goal and a challenge.  What I've learned about this distance of a race is that it takes patience.  Those that do well are those that accept the fact that they will be out there moving for a long time.  There's no place to get anxious or worried that you're not moving fast enough or not covering enough distance.  If I had to do it again I'd set a up run/walk strategy.  Perhaps if I were trained up more for being on my feet that long I perhaps could make the distance while running, but I feel if I would have done a run/walk I may have been able to shave some time off my race.  Nothing profound, not talking take hours off, but spreading out the effort as evenly as possible could have helped smooth out my pace and minimize the pain.  Then again, I can't imagine covering that distance and not hurting.  My other biggest takeaway was the importance of having people out there.  Meghann and my parents have been there all year for me, supporting and cheering me on.  Having them to look forward to helped keep me going.  Knowing that I'd see them up ahead helped make those miles go by a little quicker.  Doing these races doesn't seem possible alone.  I train mostly alone but when it comes to race day the highlight of my day is always the faces I know and seeing the people I love.

Finally finished, and with my parents and my person

 Lastly, this was the first race that upon finishing I immediately knew I'd never do again (subject to change).