The hardest part of ending is starting again
I really didn't mean to end up in Chattanooga again this year. I'm still not sure why I decided to register for this puppy again but here I am.
This morning a few minutes before we set off the race director asked for a show of hands, who had done this race before. A meager hand-full went up. The field this year was pretty shuffled up from the last two year's events. Maybe this could work to my advantage.
This mid-summer adventure, I've now definitely (tentatively?) decided is going to be my last ultra for a while, probably until Mountain Mist in January, and I'm only doing that for tradition's sake. I'm going to be out of town coming this fourth of July and won't be back until the beginning of September occupied with Army stuff. I wonder at night if this was really the best route to take, as far as the timing goes, but I think a month-long trip to Germany will be worth it, even if it's not a vacation.
Stage 1 - The 'Coon
Due to some logistics, this year would start out along the trail around the TVA resevoir at Racoon Mountain as opposed to the more challenging Lula Lake trails.
I think most runners here, veteran or not, realized the relative ease of the flatter, less technical trails of this area because a good number of people left the starting line, guns blazing. I elected to use the first couple miles to find a comfortable pace I could sustain. As it turned out, it was a good bit faster than I had expected. One of the Rock/Creek race team guys ran with me for a very large portion of the day. He was my age and we took turns taking the lead and trailing. After the unbelievably windy portion of trail otherwise known as the "small intestine" I ended up gaining my lead on him.
The miles went by smoothly and I continued to monitor any would-be problem areas. The usual ol' pains started to remind me they hadn't left but otherwise I felt good and strong, flying on the down hills and staying consistent everywhere else.
Before my first walk break or aid station stop I had circumnavigated the 18 mile loop in 2:13 averaging 7:25/mile, enough to put me in the top ten. I hadn't planned on going that fast today but, really, I hadn't planned much at all for this guy. It did help that the weather was at least 10 degrees cooler than previous years. I'm hoping this pace won't prove fatal this weekend. First, though, time for some serious rack.
Stage 2- Lula Lake
The full, green summer leaves swayed in the cool morning wind around Lula Lake before another day of mountain running got under way. After the temp dropped mercifully yesterday, it stayed about that way for today's run, nothing short of a gift.
The crowd was a bit bigger today; I believe we had some "one stagers" running today that added to our numbers. The first few miles down a gravel road followed by a particularly steep portion of trail I was feelin pretty cruddy. My legs were still shakin off the cobwebs and it took the first five miles before I could really settle on a good pace, though, out here the trails didn't let you do that much. I crossed the Lula Lake Highway and through a fence onto some slippery rocks up a hill. For a while, I was running this undulating section across a few creek beds and past some old debris from recent storms alone before someone showed up behind me. We mentally pulled each other along in relative silence for several miles and up along a steep, wide section of trail under some power lines that brought both of us to a walk. He was looking strong but I ended up passing him at the aid station. I've gotten pretty good at taking very little time to get what I need and get out.
We left the Covenant Collage aid station, bottles full, and continued along the trail with its up and down pattern. It didn't take long for it to give us a little bit of down hill, which I appreciated. I took as much advantage of the downhills today as I possibly could.
The man in the bright green shirt that had pulled me along earlier was now right behind me again. It was time for me to return the favor. We started paralleling a little creek and the trail became soft, moist. This turned out to be a good thing for me as I embarrassingly tripped and fell right on top of it. Gosh, dang it! I never trip, haven't for several years now, not like that anyway. I guess that's what I get for switching from the low profile NB Minimus to the more beefy North Face shoe I was currently wearing. Quickly shaking off the dirt on my knees and palms I continued onward and soon found myself crossing back over the "highway."
Six or so miles to go and I was feeling very wet by now. Though the temp seemed cool, it was deceiving. A couple other runners I talked to agreed, we were sweating a good bit more today than yesterday.
I grabbed two fig newtons from the day's last point of aid and crossed over a little wooden bridge before retracing my steps back around the 6 mile loop. I didn't really feel like I needed to eat anything solid, didn't feel like I was running low on fuel, but I really, really like fig newtons (as in, almost as much as peanut butter) and there they were, for free, and I took advantage. Yum, yum.
I gained two places in the next couple miles. Some guys seemed pretty spent. Brandon, a friend I used to work with at Fleet Feet, was out here too. I saw him with about 2 miles left and asked him if he needed an Endurolyte or something and he said, "No! I need a flyswater and some aspirin!" The horse flies were obnoxious to say the very least.
Just for good measure, and maybe for Brandon's entertainment (who was just a little ways behind me now), I stubbed my town on another rock and almost hyper-extended my hamstring as I broke today's second fall. I'm not wearing these shoes again for a while.
Soaked from head to toe in sweat and chaffed a little worse than usual, body glide application notwithstanding, I emerged from the woods, crossed a large stream and made it through the finisher's chute in under three hours. This was a substantial course PR and considering how last year I ran it on fresh legs, albeit a good bit warmer, this was a marked improvement from last time. Here's hoping tomorrow will prove to be the same way.
Stage 3 - Signal Mtn
The city of Chattanooga had yet to wipe the sleep from its eyes as it was recovering from last night's firework-filled Riverfest craziness at the strike of seven a.m. Several expansive clouds fondled the nearby mountain top I was now driving towards. With them came some more refreshingly cool temperatures as well as thick, soupy wet air, turning the surrounding organic canopy into a veritable rain forest. Today's stage would take place on some of the most technical trails in the area. Good footing would be hard to come by as every flat rock and wood plank we would run upon was as slick as a greased otter hide.
Today, like the last two years, would consist of the most painful running of the weekend. Any issues I'd been dealing with Friday and Saturday were exacerbated today.
I knew it was gonna be a rough one when the race director announced "one minute to race start!" and I just realize I forgot to stuff my all-too-important Endurolytes in my pocket.
Before I had even covered one mile I must've hit the side of a rock badly as I landed on my ankle at unnatural angles and had to limp it off before most of the pain went away. I was gonna have to be real careful to keep that from happening again.
I spent the next half hour running with a group of friends, Brandon, Rob, and Sarah, and enjoying their conversation. It helped the time pass and offered a good distraction from the effort of climbing those first few hills.
We finished the first, and only, out 'n back section before continuing along the ridge line that offered eye-filling views of the river gorge below. At this point I started to hit my first noticeable wall. Rob, Brandon, Sarah and a few others dropped me without much effort. I trudged on, though, trying not to get too comfortable speed hiking, and arrived at the mile 9.5 aid station. Since I didn't have my salt caps, I'd have to change from drinking just water to the less than appealing electrolyte drink, HEED, to get my body it's required minerals to hopefully stave off crampage.
Movin down the trail alone I carefully skirted down the ridge side, crossing one of the six suspended wood bridges integral to this course, before heading back up the other side to navigate some even more technical trail.
The next mile was one of the more enjoyable parts of the race for me. My legs were feelin at least a little better and I didn't mind the jumping, hopping, and skipping required to negotiate this section. I even managed to catch up to Sarah and one other runner, if only briefly, before we climbed up some wooden stairs that had been installed as part of the trail. We made it to a much needed (for me, anyway) water point, and I sucked down one of those cheap "flavor-aid" popsicles and, man, how sweet it was.
From this point on, I was really starting to go down hill. These last few miles always seem really long. The trail's relentless technicality and wet, slick rocks and debris did not let up. I crossed the last wooden bridge, hit another hill and really started feelin the flaps come loose. The next few miles of unkempt, mossy, narrow singletrack, if you could even call it that (more like half-track), were mind-numbingly frustrating, though it helped that I was no longer running alone.
I was starting to do a little too much walking than I wanted but I was starting to feel defeated. I reached out to pick up an apple slice from the final aid station when my vision started getting fuzzy, like it does when you get up too quickly, and I suddenly had to catch myself from falling over from dizziness. I guess I was drinking a lot less than I should have. The temperature must have risen on me. Though it also didn't help that my stomach was feeling bloated most of the day. That's the last time I'll scarf down two Wal-Mart brand muffins before a race.
The last three miles were the slowest I'd completed throughout the three stages. My mind was completely out of the game at this point. Every step was an effort and when I did will myself to run, cramps encapsulated what seemed like every muscle in my legs.
I chaffed till I bled, ran till I couldn't, and put my ankles through more abuse than they ever deserved before crossing the line in about the same time it took me to finish this stint last year. At the pavilion, it took a good while before the painful byproducts of ultra running even started to wear off, though a can of sprite, cherry coke, two 20oz bottles of powerade, and several gulps of hose water helped.
Afterword
Thus ends my ultra running endeavors for the time being. Over these last three 60 mile stage races, not to mention the other ultras I've kept doing in series, I think I've finally come to a point where I can comfortably say to myself that I have the ability to take these things on and actually do significantly better (improvement!) from year to year. By and large, though, the pain of running 'em remains a constant, it seems. Now that this ultra "season" is over for me, I think I'll finally heed my body's screams for respite, at least for a couple days...
I don't know what July and August will hold for me as far as running goes. All I know is that it certainly won't be nearly as much as I want it to, and I get the idea that I am one of the very few people who'll have this problem at Summer Camp. But if I at least see it as an opportunity to allow my body to go on a (forced) running hiatus, to let it recover from some annoying achilles issues and the like, I imagine I'll be much better off for it as I return to Auburn and really get my triathlon training ramped up. And if I can't imagine that, it's gonna be a depressing two months.
See you in September.
This morning a few minutes before we set off the race director asked for a show of hands, who had done this race before. A meager hand-full went up. The field this year was pretty shuffled up from the last two year's events. Maybe this could work to my advantage.
This mid-summer adventure, I've now definitely (tentatively?) decided is going to be my last ultra for a while, probably until Mountain Mist in January, and I'm only doing that for tradition's sake. I'm going to be out of town coming this fourth of July and won't be back until the beginning of September occupied with Army stuff. I wonder at night if this was really the best route to take, as far as the timing goes, but I think a month-long trip to Germany will be worth it, even if it's not a vacation.
Stage 1 - The 'Coon
Due to some logistics, this year would start out along the trail around the TVA resevoir at Racoon Mountain as opposed to the more challenging Lula Lake trails.
I think most runners here, veteran or not, realized the relative ease of the flatter, less technical trails of this area because a good number of people left the starting line, guns blazing. I elected to use the first couple miles to find a comfortable pace I could sustain. As it turned out, it was a good bit faster than I had expected. One of the Rock/Creek race team guys ran with me for a very large portion of the day. He was my age and we took turns taking the lead and trailing. After the unbelievably windy portion of trail otherwise known as the "small intestine" I ended up gaining my lead on him.
The miles went by smoothly and I continued to monitor any would-be problem areas. The usual ol' pains started to remind me they hadn't left but otherwise I felt good and strong, flying on the down hills and staying consistent everywhere else.
Before my first walk break or aid station stop I had circumnavigated the 18 mile loop in 2:13 averaging 7:25/mile, enough to put me in the top ten. I hadn't planned on going that fast today but, really, I hadn't planned much at all for this guy. It did help that the weather was at least 10 degrees cooler than previous years. I'm hoping this pace won't prove fatal this weekend. First, though, time for some serious rack.
Stage 2- Lula Lake
The full, green summer leaves swayed in the cool morning wind around Lula Lake before another day of mountain running got under way. After the temp dropped mercifully yesterday, it stayed about that way for today's run, nothing short of a gift.
The crowd was a bit bigger today; I believe we had some "one stagers" running today that added to our numbers. The first few miles down a gravel road followed by a particularly steep portion of trail I was feelin pretty cruddy. My legs were still shakin off the cobwebs and it took the first five miles before I could really settle on a good pace, though, out here the trails didn't let you do that much. I crossed the Lula Lake Highway and through a fence onto some slippery rocks up a hill. For a while, I was running this undulating section across a few creek beds and past some old debris from recent storms alone before someone showed up behind me. We mentally pulled each other along in relative silence for several miles and up along a steep, wide section of trail under some power lines that brought both of us to a walk. He was looking strong but I ended up passing him at the aid station. I've gotten pretty good at taking very little time to get what I need and get out.
We left the Covenant Collage aid station, bottles full, and continued along the trail with its up and down pattern. It didn't take long for it to give us a little bit of down hill, which I appreciated. I took as much advantage of the downhills today as I possibly could.
The man in the bright green shirt that had pulled me along earlier was now right behind me again. It was time for me to return the favor. We started paralleling a little creek and the trail became soft, moist. This turned out to be a good thing for me as I embarrassingly tripped and fell right on top of it. Gosh, dang it! I never trip, haven't for several years now, not like that anyway. I guess that's what I get for switching from the low profile NB Minimus to the more beefy North Face shoe I was currently wearing. Quickly shaking off the dirt on my knees and palms I continued onward and soon found myself crossing back over the "highway."
Six or so miles to go and I was feeling very wet by now. Though the temp seemed cool, it was deceiving. A couple other runners I talked to agreed, we were sweating a good bit more today than yesterday.
I grabbed two fig newtons from the day's last point of aid and crossed over a little wooden bridge before retracing my steps back around the 6 mile loop. I didn't really feel like I needed to eat anything solid, didn't feel like I was running low on fuel, but I really, really like fig newtons (as in, almost as much as peanut butter) and there they were, for free, and I took advantage. Yum, yum.
I gained two places in the next couple miles. Some guys seemed pretty spent. Brandon, a friend I used to work with at Fleet Feet, was out here too. I saw him with about 2 miles left and asked him if he needed an Endurolyte or something and he said, "No! I need a flyswater and some aspirin!" The horse flies were obnoxious to say the very least.
Just for good measure, and maybe for Brandon's entertainment (who was just a little ways behind me now), I stubbed my town on another rock and almost hyper-extended my hamstring as I broke today's second fall. I'm not wearing these shoes again for a while.
Soaked from head to toe in sweat and chaffed a little worse than usual, body glide application notwithstanding, I emerged from the woods, crossed a large stream and made it through the finisher's chute in under three hours. This was a substantial course PR and considering how last year I ran it on fresh legs, albeit a good bit warmer, this was a marked improvement from last time. Here's hoping tomorrow will prove to be the same way.
Stage 3 - Signal Mtn
The city of Chattanooga had yet to wipe the sleep from its eyes as it was recovering from last night's firework-filled Riverfest craziness at the strike of seven a.m. Several expansive clouds fondled the nearby mountain top I was now driving towards. With them came some more refreshingly cool temperatures as well as thick, soupy wet air, turning the surrounding organic canopy into a veritable rain forest. Today's stage would take place on some of the most technical trails in the area. Good footing would be hard to come by as every flat rock and wood plank we would run upon was as slick as a greased otter hide.
Today, like the last two years, would consist of the most painful running of the weekend. Any issues I'd been dealing with Friday and Saturday were exacerbated today.
I knew it was gonna be a rough one when the race director announced "one minute to race start!" and I just realize I forgot to stuff my all-too-important Endurolytes in my pocket.
Before I had even covered one mile I must've hit the side of a rock badly as I landed on my ankle at unnatural angles and had to limp it off before most of the pain went away. I was gonna have to be real careful to keep that from happening again.
I spent the next half hour running with a group of friends, Brandon, Rob, and Sarah, and enjoying their conversation. It helped the time pass and offered a good distraction from the effort of climbing those first few hills.
We finished the first, and only, out 'n back section before continuing along the ridge line that offered eye-filling views of the river gorge below. At this point I started to hit my first noticeable wall. Rob, Brandon, Sarah and a few others dropped me without much effort. I trudged on, though, trying not to get too comfortable speed hiking, and arrived at the mile 9.5 aid station. Since I didn't have my salt caps, I'd have to change from drinking just water to the less than appealing electrolyte drink, HEED, to get my body it's required minerals to hopefully stave off crampage.
Movin down the trail alone I carefully skirted down the ridge side, crossing one of the six suspended wood bridges integral to this course, before heading back up the other side to navigate some even more technical trail.
The next mile was one of the more enjoyable parts of the race for me. My legs were feelin at least a little better and I didn't mind the jumping, hopping, and skipping required to negotiate this section. I even managed to catch up to Sarah and one other runner, if only briefly, before we climbed up some wooden stairs that had been installed as part of the trail. We made it to a much needed (for me, anyway) water point, and I sucked down one of those cheap "flavor-aid" popsicles and, man, how sweet it was.
From this point on, I was really starting to go down hill. These last few miles always seem really long. The trail's relentless technicality and wet, slick rocks and debris did not let up. I crossed the last wooden bridge, hit another hill and really started feelin the flaps come loose. The next few miles of unkempt, mossy, narrow singletrack, if you could even call it that (more like half-track), were mind-numbingly frustrating, though it helped that I was no longer running alone.
I was starting to do a little too much walking than I wanted but I was starting to feel defeated. I reached out to pick up an apple slice from the final aid station when my vision started getting fuzzy, like it does when you get up too quickly, and I suddenly had to catch myself from falling over from dizziness. I guess I was drinking a lot less than I should have. The temperature must have risen on me. Though it also didn't help that my stomach was feeling bloated most of the day. That's the last time I'll scarf down two Wal-Mart brand muffins before a race.
The last three miles were the slowest I'd completed throughout the three stages. My mind was completely out of the game at this point. Every step was an effort and when I did will myself to run, cramps encapsulated what seemed like every muscle in my legs.
I chaffed till I bled, ran till I couldn't, and put my ankles through more abuse than they ever deserved before crossing the line in about the same time it took me to finish this stint last year. At the pavilion, it took a good while before the painful byproducts of ultra running even started to wear off, though a can of sprite, cherry coke, two 20oz bottles of powerade, and several gulps of hose water helped.
Afterword
Thus ends my ultra running endeavors for the time being. Over these last three 60 mile stage races, not to mention the other ultras I've kept doing in series, I think I've finally come to a point where I can comfortably say to myself that I have the ability to take these things on and actually do significantly better (improvement!) from year to year. By and large, though, the pain of running 'em remains a constant, it seems. Now that this ultra "season" is over for me, I think I'll finally heed my body's screams for respite, at least for a couple days...
I don't know what July and August will hold for me as far as running goes. All I know is that it certainly won't be nearly as much as I want it to, and I get the idea that I am one of the very few people who'll have this problem at Summer Camp. But if I at least see it as an opportunity to allow my body to go on a (forced) running hiatus, to let it recover from some annoying achilles issues and the like, I imagine I'll be much better off for it as I return to Auburn and really get my triathlon training ramped up. And if I can't imagine that, it's gonna be a depressing two months.
See you in September.
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