North Face 50...er...35-miler

That's right. I only made it through 35 miles.

And now for the gory details.

I got up to Delafield around 3PM on Friday (eating a nice lunch before I left of a bunch of Swedish pancakes and 2 fried eggs, YUM), went to packet pickup, and on the way back to the hotel, stopped at the Waterstreet Brewery for dinner. Polished off some French onion soup (didn't eat the cheese, though), one beer, and maybe half of my main course of salmon over spinach linguine with a bunch of vegetables. Had one more beer back at the hotel and organized my stuff for Saturday.

It had rained all day Friday, but was calling for partly cloudy on Saturday. Still, when I woke up (after sleeping maybe all of 3 hours although I stayed in bed for about 7.5), it was misting pretty well. So the only change I made was to cut out holes for my head and arms in a large garbage bag, figuring the rain would stop soon enough.

Even without sleep, I felt just fine since I've been sleeping a lot. My legs felt good, having done a peppy 20 minute run on Friday morning. Stomach was good, too, everything felt good. I lubed my feet liberally with Vaseline, suited up and left for the race just before 5AM. Since I can't read up close with my contact lenses in, I couldn't really read the map, and turned off the first road too soon, but figured I had time and that the road I was on would surely run into the main road to get to the park.

I got to the race site around 5:15 and it continued to mist. I was happy I had my garbage bag on, although I could have gone without it, but I just do not retain heat well when it's cold. I think it was mid-30's at the start.

GO and we are off, and I just sort of stayed with a big group of people, hoping they wouldn't be going too fast, and as soon as we hit the first hill, everyone walked it, so I figured I'd be OK. Hit the first aid station faster than goal pace (14mpm was my goal), but didn't feel like I was pushing it in the least, which I can tell by my breathing. I didn't really need to get anything at the first stop, but I looked around and just went on my way. I kept the bag on because it wasn't making me uncomfortable or anything.

I kept drinking Coke and just running easy and walking up the hills. I had to be careful on some of the steeper downhills because everything was wet from all the rain plus there were lots of leaves, rocks and assorted twigs and sticks. Now even though I run on what I call a trail near home, it is perfectly groomed and there are no rocks or really much of anything to dodge, and this is where I think my training failed me.

About 10 miles in I could already feel my quads going what the hell? But it was just pain, and I was OK with that and knew that I could put up with a whole lot more to get through 50 miles. 16 miles in I finally ditched the garbage bag and discovered that I was in fact, pretty drenched with sweat, but it was ok, at least some of it would dry off. I was ahead of pace at this point, and except for my quads and a little pain in my right shin, I felt fine. I took some chicken broth with a quarter of a PB&J sandwich and that hit the spot.

The next aid station came fast after about 5 miles, and I was thinking, huh, this is the farthest I'd run since ROTPM, and even though my quads felt like hamburger, I felt good, except that thing on my right shin was starting to hurt more. The next leg was 7 miles, and I enjoyed it, because once I got there it would be my longest run ever.

Did I mention we ran through plenty of water? I didn't worry about blisters as my feet were well-lubed, and the cool water actually felt nice in a way. Oh and there was plenty of mud, too.

Approaching 28 miles, I could feel my right shin hurting a lot, especially on an uphill or downhill, but it seemed I could manage on flats. We had to run 7 more miles back to the prior aid station, and there was plenty of up and down in that, and about 3.5 miles out, my right shin was really, really hurting. I stopped and pressed on it, and it felt really bruised right over the tibia. I didn't really think I had a stress fracture, but it hurt so bad that I took some Tylenol and tried to soldier on.

That didn't last but another .5 miles when it hurt to even walk and I even limped when doing that. It was right then and there I decided I would just make it back to the aid station and pull out. It sucked to walk, but I could do it in a way that hurt less than running, but it still hurt. One guy ran by me and asked if I wanted him to send someone out to get me, and my pride got the better of me and I said I'd just walk it in.

I made it to 35 miles under the cutoff, and for a flash thought I'd try and go to 40, but I realized that I might be setting myself up for something really bad, so I withdrew, hanging out to wait for a ride back to the start with 2 more runners who had the same fate with different issues (one guy missed the cutoff and the other had been in pain far longer than I was).

As soon as I got back to base, I went to medical to get ice for my shin. Boy did that feel good! I ran into some friends and chatted. It kinda sucked that I went farther than 50K but did not even get a 50K medal, but hey, that's fine by me. I ate some awesome food, and then picked up my drop bags and hobbled to my car, and I mean hobbled! Getting in the car was no fun, but I only had a short drive back to the hotel.

When I stripped off my tights, I could see what looked like the beginnings of a big bruise over my right shin about 1.5" above the ankle. I got showered and then organized my crap, put a lot of stuff into my car and then came back up (I was able to take the stairs up) and got more ice and iced myself for about 1/2 hour. After this, I was able to walk semi-normally, except for the lack of quads.

I was pretty tired and didn't really feel like getting in the car to drive for another meal, so I ate a Clif Bar and had some beers (I got a growler at the brewery of their Oktoberfest, tasty!) and watched some movies and then drifted off to sleep.

I woke up around 5:30AM for a nature call and couldn't fall back asleep, so I got packed up and left town about 6:30AM. It was funny while I was driving that in order to use my left leg to brake (yes, I drive with both feet), I had to lift my leg with my left hand!

Now for the good stuff...what did I learn?

My training was spot on, distance-wise. I definitely had the endurance to complete 50 miles, just not on a trail. I maybe should have done a 3-week taper, but who knows? Still, I ran 35 miles just 8 weeks after double IM, and so I've gotten in 3 marathons + in just 13 weeks. I feel like I've acquired a new level of toughness in my legs. I might not be cut out for trail running, but that is fine by me. UMC is not trail running! I got to experience my legs being in a whole lot more pain than in an Ironman (in fact, once I pulled out, my first comment was that I'd rather be doing an Ironman!), and I am sure that will come in handy in about 9 months. I felt mentally OK with the time and distance and even enjoyed myself for most of the time.

Someone asked me at the finish area whether I was planning to go for another 50-miler before UMC. The answer is NO. I am still putting plenty of distance into my legs, and feel confident that by race day I will be ready, or as ready as I can be. Besides, I have Goofy Challenge in 11 weeks, and the recovery from a 50-miler doesn't really fit into that plan or even next year, but I will get in a few 20+ mile runs between January and July next year.

On the plus side, assuming this shin thing is just temporary shin splints, I should recover from this 50-miler attempt as for a marathon, and I won't run for a week. I will go for a swim tomorrow and see how biking feels on Tuesday, and then it's back on the wagon.

I may try and rake some leaves today if I feel a surge of energy. Or not. At least it doesn't involve stairs!