Zasada
Footballguy
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Ran a 10k - Official Thread (9 Viewers)
- Thread starter Ned
- Start date
The Iguana
Footballguy
For the record, I legitimately have thought the bucks had been eliminated from the playoffs no fewer than 3 times and probably more based on me skimming through Facebook.Now imagine you have a 6-month-old AND your favorite NBA team is in the Finals. Stupid 8pm starts...
The Iguana
Footballguy
Juxtatarot
Footballguy
Yes, I feel fine. Highlight was continually setting off a low heart rate alarm recovering after the procedure. Nurses had to come in every handful of minutes to turn it off.
El Floppo
Footballguy
They wouldnt let me leave for a loooong time after my recent anal rape. HR was locked at 34 for over an hour- dr finally came over and asked whether I exercise... "Ok, you can go"
gruecd
Footballguy
Sounds about right, given the complete and total lack of respect this team has gotten.
The Iguana
Footballguy
Ummm... I was talking about your posts and your utter despair after several of their losses.
gruecd
Footballguy
It’s justified. I’m embarrassed to be a fan.Ummm... I was talking about your posts and your utter despair after several of their losses.
The Iguana
Footballguy
It just would crack me up. I haven't watched any of the NBA playoffs at all but more than once you would have a post that I thought indicated they had been eliminated and then like 2 days later I'd see highlights from their game on SC or see where they had moved on to the next round and think "hey, wait, I thought they got eliminated, what happened?"
gianmarco
Footballguy
Oh boy, this got long...so I'm going to split it into parts. Hopefully posting the entirety of this section by section within a day or two, possibly even all yet today. Here we go...
Training – I had too much on my plate in 2020, so the COVID cancellation was about the only silver lining as it related to COVID for our family. That one year delay should’ve allowed me to crush training for an extra 12 months, but alas, life. As a historically low mileage runner, I did have my most consistent block of training leading up to this event. January was a bust due to my wife’s injury, but beginning in February though my taper, I ran between 25-50 miles per week for 15 of 18 weeks. Additionally, I mixed in quite a bit of sauna training…16 hours over that timeframe, with over half of those hours coming during a 6 week stretch in May and June. Finally, I firmly beelieve that attending the Memorial Weekend three-day training block covering the last 70 miles of the course was without a doubt critical in planning for the race and what was to come on race day. That weekend allowed me experience the heat, the long climbs/descents, and to dial in some pacing/gear/planning along the course in anticipation of the actual race, all of which ultimately provided valuable insight that would come into play on race day.
Health – Probably most importantly, I entered the race in really good health. Some right leg IT band and glute tightness over the week prior to the race was the only notable concern, and they were mild ones at that.
Pre-Race Wednesday to Friday – Travel through Reno was relatively uneventful, besides damn near having the most embarrassing DNF story in WSER history. Just one hour into our flight from Minneapolis to Reno, I knocked my entire cup of pretty damn hot coffee directly onto my scrotes. It wasn’t hot enough to blister my balls, but it made my boys red (and mad) as hell and had me at least a bit worried about whether I’d be forever known as the guy that waited five years to get into WSER and then had to drop because he poured coffee on his nuts. Such a dummy. Ultimately, the boys rallied over the next 24 hours. We're back in business.
We arrived in Truckee on Wednesday and settled into our Airbnb where our entire contingent would be staying. That included my wife and two daughters, my long-time friend and pacer Joe, along with his wife and two daughters, and finally my other pacer Lucas who would be joining us on Thursday. We dipped into some of the pre-race festivities at Squaw Valley on Thursday, including taking the Tram to near the top of the escarpment, which is where the first 3.5 mile / 2400 foot climb of the race takes you, and let the girls do a little roller skating (you can see the escarpment where the snowcap is at in the backgound, but roller skating at 8,000 feet!). I wondered if I could hop the Tram again on Saturday morning when the gun goes off? Definitely seems more efficient. I did most of my pre-race prep on Thursday night to lighten the Friday load and stress level. Got my gear laid out, crew bag packed, and double checked everything so that I wouldn’t miss a thing for race day. Friday involved the pre-race check-in, along with the pre-race briefing. The environment was electric. Tons of people, elites walking around all over the place, and it just felt you were at something special. From there, our contingent headed back to the house to chill.
Goals, Gear, and Nutrition – I touched on this a bit in this post. And then a little more here. I really wanted to take a shot at a sub-24 hour finish and that silver buckle, but more importantly I absolutely had to finish this race and avoid a recurrence of rhabdo that struck me after my last 100 mile race. I do need those kidneys, after all. That said, the forecast of a high of 101 degrees was looking to throw a wrench into the day. My nutrition plan was similar to previous races; Tailwind mix (which I carried with me) for electrolytes, one Huma gel per hour for nutrition, and one salt/electrolyte cap at least every hour. Then anything my body was craving as I passed through aid stations, which ended up being not much (watermelon, blueberries, and oranges). The key in my estimation was going to be hydrating like hell. I was wearing my race vest with two bottles that I planned to use for electrolytes and also intended to carry a handheld for the entire race which I would fill with water for hydration as well as to use to keep myself wet. With the forecasted heat, staying as cool as possible would be critical…my plan was to utilize an ice bandana around the neck, soak in every creek/stream possible, use my handheld to keep my head and neck cool, and get wet at every aid station. Shoes of choice were Nike Wildhorse 7’s. Socks were Swiftwick. Calf panties were 2XU. Shorts and shirt were Nike. Boxers were Smartwool. Ice bandana with a chamois custom sewn-in by my mom to function as an ice pocket. And a mind that I hoped would be steel.
Pre-Race Saturday – I set my alarm for 3am for the 5am race start, got to bed around 9pm Friday night, fell asleep sometime before 10pm, awoke at 1:30am, and for the most part could not fall back asleep. Four hours of sleep it is! Finally got up, made a couple eggs, piece of toast with butter, and had a bottle of Ucan. Joe drove Sue and me the half hour to the race start. For the first time since we had been in California, my anxiety kicked in. I tried to just relax and calm the nerves as much as possible so as to not expend valuable energy pre-race. We arrived at Squaw around 4:15am, I stretched my legs, we snapped a couple pre-race pictures, suffered a near hernia while cleansing the colon, and awaited the race start. I was trying to stay calm as the entire lead up to this event was by far the calmest I’ve been for a 100 in the pre-race build up. My wife and self-declared crew chief was geared up and ready to roll. (We had a good collective debate, and laugh, the day before the race as to whether the usage of “chief” in this context was non-PC and/or offensive…so I was surprised she still wore the sweathshirt.) As my Anniversary was coming up in a few days on June 30th, I snapped this pic as the clock counted down to the race start. And with the ten second countdown and shotgun blast, we were off.
- RACE REPORT - Part 1 of ??
- Western States Endurance Run (WSER)
- Distance: 100.2 Miles
- Elevation Gain/Loss: 18,090ft/22,970ft
- Date: Sat/Sun, June 26-27, 2021
Training – I had too much on my plate in 2020, so the COVID cancellation was about the only silver lining as it related to COVID for our family. That one year delay should’ve allowed me to crush training for an extra 12 months, but alas, life. As a historically low mileage runner, I did have my most consistent block of training leading up to this event. January was a bust due to my wife’s injury, but beginning in February though my taper, I ran between 25-50 miles per week for 15 of 18 weeks. Additionally, I mixed in quite a bit of sauna training…16 hours over that timeframe, with over half of those hours coming during a 6 week stretch in May and June. Finally, I firmly beelieve that attending the Memorial Weekend three-day training block covering the last 70 miles of the course was without a doubt critical in planning for the race and what was to come on race day. That weekend allowed me experience the heat, the long climbs/descents, and to dial in some pacing/gear/planning along the course in anticipation of the actual race, all of which ultimately provided valuable insight that would come into play on race day.
Health – Probably most importantly, I entered the race in really good health. Some right leg IT band and glute tightness over the week prior to the race was the only notable concern, and they were mild ones at that.
Pre-Race Wednesday to Friday – Travel through Reno was relatively uneventful, besides damn near having the most embarrassing DNF story in WSER history. Just one hour into our flight from Minneapolis to Reno, I knocked my entire cup of pretty damn hot coffee directly onto my scrotes. It wasn’t hot enough to blister my balls, but it made my boys red (and mad) as hell and had me at least a bit worried about whether I’d be forever known as the guy that waited five years to get into WSER and then had to drop because he poured coffee on his nuts. Such a dummy. Ultimately, the boys rallied over the next 24 hours. We're back in business.
We arrived in Truckee on Wednesday and settled into our Airbnb where our entire contingent would be staying. That included my wife and two daughters, my long-time friend and pacer Joe, along with his wife and two daughters, and finally my other pacer Lucas who would be joining us on Thursday. We dipped into some of the pre-race festivities at Squaw Valley on Thursday, including taking the Tram to near the top of the escarpment, which is where the first 3.5 mile / 2400 foot climb of the race takes you, and let the girls do a little roller skating (you can see the escarpment where the snowcap is at in the backgound, but roller skating at 8,000 feet!). I wondered if I could hop the Tram again on Saturday morning when the gun goes off? Definitely seems more efficient. I did most of my pre-race prep on Thursday night to lighten the Friday load and stress level. Got my gear laid out, crew bag packed, and double checked everything so that I wouldn’t miss a thing for race day. Friday involved the pre-race check-in, along with the pre-race briefing. The environment was electric. Tons of people, elites walking around all over the place, and it just felt you were at something special. From there, our contingent headed back to the house to chill.
Goals, Gear, and Nutrition – I touched on this a bit in this post. And then a little more here. I really wanted to take a shot at a sub-24 hour finish and that silver buckle, but more importantly I absolutely had to finish this race and avoid a recurrence of rhabdo that struck me after my last 100 mile race. I do need those kidneys, after all. That said, the forecast of a high of 101 degrees was looking to throw a wrench into the day. My nutrition plan was similar to previous races; Tailwind mix (which I carried with me) for electrolytes, one Huma gel per hour for nutrition, and one salt/electrolyte cap at least every hour. Then anything my body was craving as I passed through aid stations, which ended up being not much (watermelon, blueberries, and oranges). The key in my estimation was going to be hydrating like hell. I was wearing my race vest with two bottles that I planned to use for electrolytes and also intended to carry a handheld for the entire race which I would fill with water for hydration as well as to use to keep myself wet. With the forecasted heat, staying as cool as possible would be critical…my plan was to utilize an ice bandana around the neck, soak in every creek/stream possible, use my handheld to keep my head and neck cool, and get wet at every aid station. Shoes of choice were Nike Wildhorse 7’s. Socks were Swiftwick. Calf panties were 2XU. Shorts and shirt were Nike. Boxers were Smartwool. Ice bandana with a chamois custom sewn-in by my mom to function as an ice pocket. And a mind that I hoped would be steel.
Pre-Race Saturday – I set my alarm for 3am for the 5am race start, got to bed around 9pm Friday night, fell asleep sometime before 10pm, awoke at 1:30am, and for the most part could not fall back asleep. Four hours of sleep it is! Finally got up, made a couple eggs, piece of toast with butter, and had a bottle of Ucan. Joe drove Sue and me the half hour to the race start. For the first time since we had been in California, my anxiety kicked in. I tried to just relax and calm the nerves as much as possible so as to not expend valuable energy pre-race. We arrived at Squaw around 4:15am, I stretched my legs, we snapped a couple pre-race pictures, suffered a near hernia while cleansing the colon, and awaited the race start. I was trying to stay calm as the entire lead up to this event was by far the calmest I’ve been for a 100 in the pre-race build up. My wife and self-declared crew chief was geared up and ready to roll. (We had a good collective debate, and laugh, the day before the race as to whether the usage of “chief” in this context was non-PC and/or offensive…so I was surprised she still wore the sweathshirt.) As my Anniversary was coming up in a few days on June 30th, I snapped this pic as the clock counted down to the race start. And with the ten second countdown and shotgun blast, we were off.
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tri-man 47
Footballguy
- RACE REPORT - Part 2 of ??
- Western States Endurance Run (WSER)
- Distance: 100.2 Miles
- Elevation Gain/Loss: 18,090ft/22,970ft
- Date: Sat/Sun, June 26-27, 2021
The High Country (Squaw Valley to Robinson Flat, Miles 0 - 30.3) - Considering a significant portion of the first 30 miles is at an elevation above 7K feet and the fact that I’ve never run any real distance at elevation, my goal was to manage effort and arrive at Robinson Flat feeling as fresh as possible. My 24-hour pacing plan which I carried via laminated card varied slightly from the official WSER 24-hour pacing targets. I had looked at the splits from the last hot year (and one without massive snow :ahem: @SFBayDuck :ahem
and found that the median times for sub-24 hours finishers were slower to start, by a not insignificant amount, than the official WSER 24-hour pace targets (i.e. 2:25 on my chart into the first aid station vs 2:10 based on the official WSER target). I’m soooo glad I did this, as it allowed me to not panic and/or give up as it related to a 24 hour pace early in the race when I was inevitably “behind.” I wish I had provided this personal pace card to you guys pre-race, as I arrived at every aid station in the first 30 miles of the race +/- within exactly one minute of 24-hour pace on my card. I’m an uphill hiker, not runner, so I settled into a nice groove on the first climb, which entailed 2,400 feet over 3.5 miles. I ended up chatting up a runner I had met at the WSER Training Camp a month prior who had recently moved to Flagstaff from Iowa and has ran Superior a couple times. Talking about the past month since we had met at the WSER Training Camp and the day to come definitely helped make the climb go by more quickly. We arrived at the top of the escarpment 56 minutes in, except I’m a novice and that wasn’t quite the top, as that would come four minutes later. From there it was time to take the easiest way down on a beautiful single-track trail for a descent down the backside of that mountain.
The early going remained relatively uneventful, which was the plan. I ended up playing the debate game quite a few times early on in the race about whether to stick in a sizable conga line at a pace slower than I would have liked, which was likely the best plan for energy conservation, versus jumping ahead and moving at a more natural gait on the ups and downs but risking overexerting early. More often than not I’d hang in line for longer than I wanted just to get a better feel for the pacing before ultimately jumping ahead. I felt like I balanced this game pretty well until the pacing spread out enough where there weren’t as many people to play leapfrog with. The day started to get hot in the high country between 8-9am, which was earlier than I had hoped. I believe I filled my ice bandana for the first time at Red Star Ridge, which was mile ~16 at about 8:40am. My heart rate always seems to spike higher than I’d like early in these races, and this race was no different. I spent most of the first 30 miles at a heart rate in the 160s. I definitely attributed part of that to be the altitude. I wasn’t noticeably struggling with it, but I was noticing it. During a majority of miles 5-30, my brain felt like it did for roughly 2-3 weeks as I was starting to run again post-COVID back in September of 2020. The brain just felt a tad foggy and it was challenging to focus. Additionally, I’ve never in the history of my life had more gas on a run than I did during this 30 mile section. I had to be farting 2-3x per mile. Altitude farts? Is that a thing? Sure seemed like it. Apologies to everyone behind me.
The only other notable occurrence during the first 30 miles was a brief stop I made at a ~12-16 foot wide creek crossing (Duncan Creek?) somewhere around mile 25+. I stopped on the near side, squatted down, and used my hat to scoop water and get myself wet for about 30 seconds. As I did so, I noticed a runner rock hop across the creek and pass me. As I stood up, my brain said “yeah, keep those feet dry I guess” and so without assessing the path across I quickly hopped with my left foot on a big rock a few feet out but soon realized the next logical foot placement was another few feet ahead and to my left. So instead of just plopping into the relatively shallow creek and finishing the last 10-12 feet crossing in the shallow water, I threw my right foot across my body out to the left and as soon as my right foot hit that slick rock it immediately slipped all the way across the rock face and off the rock, throwing my body horizontal with the creek and on a head first trajectory into the water. I banged off a couple rocks with my side, caught myself a bit with my hands, knocked my chin on another rock, and ended up full on in the creek. I immediately checked for damage as the other handful of nearby runners gasped at my lack of coordination. Luckily no damage at the time that was notable, though with what was to come I wonder if this played a role at all in some right foot/ankle problems which would plague me for a large part of the race. The climb into Robinson Flat entails about 1,600 feet over 2 miles which kind of sucks, but it was a relief for me knowing that I was going to get to see my family and crew for the first time. And see them I did. They were waiting for me about 100 feet short of the aid station with a chair at the ready. I sat down, wiped myfeet and other parts clean, reapplied Glide, changed socks, and readied to head out. It was already apparent at this stage that my feet were going to be in for a rough day. I rose from the chair and readied to head out. And then the most surreal thing happened…some whack job lady with about ran us over with her vehicle. Her vehicle banged into me and I can't fathom how close her tires were to our feet. It all happened so quickly. Man, if I hadn’t been in the middle of a 100 mile race and was able to process what had just happened, I would’ve ran that vehicle down and squirted a gel on her windshield. What in the actual hell?! We had three kids under the age of 9 within mere feet of us. I’m still angry about this. She literally side-swiped us, kept on driving, and I have no doubt if a child was in the way they would’ve been run over. Anyways, off we go through the Robinson Flat aid station….
- RACE REPORT - Part 3 of ??
- Western States Endurance Run (WSER)
- Distance: 100.2 Miles
- Elevation Gain/Loss: 18,090ft/22,970ft
- Date: Sat/Sun, June 26-27, 2021
This was a roughly four mile descent and as far as heat goes, I’ve never experienced anything like it. The last 3 miles were probably the hottest miles I’ve ever experienced. The air was stagnant and the temp had to be in excess of 110. I couldn’t believe it, and all I could think about was getting to the bottom and submerging in El Dorado creek. The aid station workers at El Dorado deserve hazard pay, and despite the environment they were phenomenal. I hiked down 40 feet or so from the bridge to the creek, removed my vest, and submerged everything but my face in that that creek for a solid 4-5 minutes. While I did, the aid station volunteers retrieved my vest, filled my bottles, and had them waiting for me as I emerged. Unreal. I tell you, if you want to be pampered during a race, run Western States. At every aid station you have 3-4 volunteers catering to your every need. Fluids, food, cooling water, ice refills…you name it, they’re there to help do it.
I locked into another power hiking pace once again for the 1800 foot / 2.5 mile climb up to Michigan Bluff. This one wore on me, and I reached a point later in the hike on a dry exposed section where I was actively seeking out a rock to sit on for a 20 second break. And there it was, sitting all alone looking for company, a two foot high rock with a perfectly flat top that was calling out to my fatigued body to join it. As I neared the 250+ pound boulder, it seemed not quite embedded into the mountainside as I would’ve imagined it would be. But that rock had to have been in that spot for centuries. So sat I did. And as soon as I sat and took the pressure off my legs, that rock decided to run. I hopped up quickly and watched in horror as this rock started rolling down the middle of the single track trail. First and foremost, thankfully no runner was immediately behind me. They would’ve been destroyed. Secondly, the rock was now 15 feet below me and continuing to roll down the trail. Thirty feet further and the trail bent sharply to the left, meaning I could not see if another runner was approaching. Just as I was about to yell “LOOK OUT!!! BOULDER!!!,” the rock started sliding and skid to a stop dead in the center of the trail. Welp, I guess someone was trying to tell me that sitting wasn’t in the cards. No doubt that my wife's doing. She hates it when I sit. So I continued to make my way towards Michigan Bluff. A quick stop at the aid station and I exited Michigan Bluff. I was fueled by the thought of once again seeing my family and friends, eager to pick up my first pacer, and so I made my way down and back up the last canyon and into Foresthill. I exited the Foresthill aid station on my 24 hour pace to the minute, before running another quarter mile and spending a bit less than 10 minutes in a chair with my family and friends. Once again, tended to the trashed feet, changed socks and shoes, re-loaded supplies, and hit the road with Joe by my side for the next 16 miles.
To the River Crossing (Foresthill to Rucky Chucky River Crossing, Miles 62 – 78) - A bit of pacer background before we head into this section…Joe is one of my best friends and has been since childhood. We’re both uber competitive and that has rolled over into everything we’ve done together for the past 3+ decades. Joe’s not a “runner” per se (though nor am I), but he’s paced me in a couple of my 100's for upwards of 10ish miles and has done a trail marathon on his own. In short, he was perfectly capable of pacing this 16 miles section that consisted of about 1,500 feet of climbing vs 4,000 feet of descending. That said, Joe’s training was admittedly sporadic. In fact, starting about three months out I began asking how it was going. “Well, still a bit out of shape but planning to kick in gear this weekend” was invariably the response. On more than one occasion I attempted to needle him a bit with the following…”well my goal at Western is to drop you. And when that happens and you can’t keep up with me at Mile 70 you’re never going to hear the end of it.”
Running with Joe towards Cal Street as we departed Foresthill was a welcome change. As we rolled the first 3.7 miles to Cal-1, he updated me on the status of the women’s and men’s races (turns out, Walmsley was just a few miles from the finish as I was at Mile 62!
), how the day went, what my family and friends had been up to, and how I was feeling. Everything seemed great until we were about a half mile from Cal-1. It was at that stage I could hear Joe behind me. Breathing. Loudly. “I’m not sure I can do this,” he suddenly blurted out. “I’m struggling,” he added. Yikes, I thought. This isn’t good. We’ve got 12 miles to go until Rucky Chucky. But calm was the theme for the day. “You’ll be alright,” I said. "We’re almost to the aid station. Let’s top off, take a minute, and just keep moving." He seemed good with that plan. We hit Cal-1 and moved through quickly. As we resumed running, he was pretty quiet. Not more than half a mile later it happened. “Neil, I can’t do it. I don’t think I can keep up this pace. You’ve got to just go. I’m really sorry.” Ugh. We had discussed this possibility, but I didn't think it likely to happen. And I never in a million years would’ve guessed it would happen 4.5 miles into the 16-mile section. But it did. We didn’t dwell long. He apologized again and I told him that was nonsense. This day could not have happened without his help and everything he did to assist at the aid stations, with Sue and our children, lugging crap around, and just generally being an awesome friend. We fist bumped and I took off. The fact that Joe dropped didn’t bother me. I was feeling reasonably well, it wasn’t quite time for headlamps, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d be to Rucky Chucky to pick up Lucas.It wasn’t more than two miles later as I ran on the single track, cutting through the hillside that sloped from my right to left, that I heard a loud rustling about around a bend in the trail not 15 feet away. It took only seconds to get to that corner, and instinctively I hesitated as I neared the bend. As soon as I hit the corner I locked eyes with a brown bear (from what I gathered afterwards, likely a brown colored black bear as they are more common in the area than brown bears) not more than 30-40 feet away. It had clearly been on the trail and descended about 15 feet off the downhill side of the trail when it had heard me. Thankfully, as soon as I rounded that corner and it saw me and I it, it bolted down the hillside. I didn’t even have time to think about it. Since it ran downhill, I kept running ahead on the single track…did one glance back over my shoulder about 100 feet later and then just shook my head about it.
You’d have thought that run in would’ve jump started my adrenaline but it was quite the opposite. Something physically/mentally/psychologically started happening to me around this time that I’ve never dealt with before. I was immensely tired. I thought of lying down on the side of the trail. But rattlesnakes. Bears. Mountain lions. I'll just keep making progress, I suppose. I struggled to focus with my eyesight. I thought turning my headlamp on earlier than necessary might help wake me up, but it didn’t do much at all since it was still too light out to notice. I found a rock and sat down for a couple minutes. Another runner passed by with their pacer, chatting away. I took a gel with 2x caffeine. I sprayed water from my handheld directly into my face. Nothing worked. It was like a mental switch had flipped to OFF and I couldn’t turn it back on. And I dealt with this for the last 30 miles. So I got up and trudged on. With the nearly 10 minute stay at Forresthill and the struggle to stay awake and focus, I had fallen upwards of 16 minutes off the 24 hour pace during this section. I knew there was some runnable miles for Lucas and I once I arrived to Rucky Chucky, so I wasn’t panicked, but there also was far less margin for error as the miles ticked by. Thankfully the training runs prepared me for the tease that is running alongside and hearing the American River for 5+ miles before finally arriving at the Rucky Chucky aid station and spotting Lucas.
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ChiefD
Footballguy
gianmarco
Footballguy
pbm107
Footballguy
ChiefD
Footballguy
Funny that you ask about supplemental training, as I will touch on that more later in the race report. But it's generally pretty minimal I guess I would say. Our family is pretty active in general, so lots of outdoor time, camping, hiking, biking, games with the kids etc. Some strength training, but not as much as I'd like. And then the sauna time, as I mentioned.
Background was that my runner friends wanted me to join track and cross country in high school, but I never loved it so I never gave in. I would run short distances (3-4 miles) to stay in shape for basketball, which I played through college (D2). I ran my first marathon in 2003. That would have been my last as I did not enjoy
but my wife wanted to run one in 2012, so I ran with to keep her company in that one. Then I picked up and fell hard for trail running in 2013, did an ultra training group through TC Running Co that winter, and have dabbled in a race or two each year since then with about 95% of my miles coming on trails (which to a certain degree I think offsets my low mileage compared to high mileage runners that do mostly flat road runs). I've always been someone who's never been the most talented at anything I've done, but when it comes down to it I've been willing to outwork and (and in some instances I guess out suffer?) everyone else. I will touch on this a bit later in terms of why this probably has hurt me more than helped me in this sport though.
The Iguana
Footballguy
F5, F5, F5!
The Iguana
Footballguy
while we wait... pretty happy that baseball games have moved around a bit and removed any last excuses I might have. First game tomorrow isn't until noon so I have plenty of time to get in my run well before doing games.
The Iguana
Footballguy
but it will be interesting to see how it feels to umpire 4 games after running 10 miles or so in the morning...
SFBayDuck
Footballguy
No matter how many times I run Cal Street, this part of the course will never not mess with me.
gianmarco
Footballguy
I'll step on Duck's webbed toes here. You're heading to an aid station (Rucky Chucky) at which point you cross the American River. The objective then is to get to the river. So typically the sound of the river would indicate that you're getting close to that aid station and your objective, but in this instance you literally run parallel to the river for 5+ miles (and hear the river the entire time) before actually arriving at the aid station. It's a pretty big mind #### at miles 73-78, in the dark, and definitely would have been even more of one for me had I not distinctly remembered how long it actually seemed to take to get to this aid station when I was out there running this section in the daylight for the training runs a month prior to the race.
SFBayDuck
Footballguy
As @SayWhat?touched on, it's about 16 miles on Cal Street down to the river. About 11 miles in you get down to the river, but then you have to run alongside it for another 5 miles before you finally get to Rucky Chucky and the river crossing. So you hear the river getting louder and louder as you get close, then you see it, so mentally it's hard not feel like you should be close and an easy cruise in to the aid station...but you still have an hour (or two, in my case) to go before you get there. And while it's not the hardest section of the course there are several short, punchy climbs, and a bit of a grinder on a fire road right before the aid station.
tl;dr this section of trail is a mind####, especially after 75 miles.
gianmarco
Footballguy
ChiefD
Footballguy
SteelCurtain
Footballguy
This is amazing.
Can't wait for the next chapter.
Can't wait for the next chapter.
- RACE REPORT - Part 4 of 5
- Western States Endurance Run (WSER)
- Distance: 100.2 Miles
- Elevation Gain/Loss: 18,090ft/22,970ft
- Date: Sat/Sun, June 26-27, 2021
We hit Auburn Lake Trails aid station at mile 85 at eleven minutes behind 24 hour pace. And despite a nice descent into the Quarry Road aid station 6 miles later at mile 91, we arrived again at eleven minutes behind 24 hour pace. Two more 700-900 foot climbs to go which meant not a lot of runnable miles remained. ####. We grinded out three consecutive 16-17 minute miles covering 900 feet on the first climb and hit Pointed Rocks at mile 94 having made up a little time, now just five minutes behind 24 hour pace with 6 miles to go. This sucks. I had to piss, but didn’t want to waste even a minute doing so. That's how tight I felt this finish was going to be. Not a great feeling. There was one more ~3 mile descent, a ~2 mile climb, and then a mile to go on the streets through Auburn to get to the finish on the track at Placer High School. I was seeing the light and knew a finish was inevitable, but also realized that the next three miles of descending were critical if we wanted to go under 24 hours, so we pushed pretty hard on our way down to No Hands Bridge. I wasn’t cognizant in the moment, but these three miles clocked in at 11, 12, and 11 minutes, respectively. Good progress, but as we crossed No Hands Bridge I knew this climb up to Robbie Point at mile 99 would not be fun. And it wasn’t.
As we made progress during the last ascent you could see the aid station lit up at the top of the climb, but it was tough to gauge exactly how far away that actually was. A ways away still, that was for sure. But I knew once we got there it was just 1.3 miles to the finish. I was pretty well spent, but we power hiked the hell out of that hill, despite seeing other runners in the vicinity of us in the midst of running it. But running up steep grades has not ever been efficient for me. Every time I looked down at our pace on this ascent, we were between moving at a 14-15 minute pace. Pretty solid speed for hiking and in all liklihood not far off the pace of those running this ascent. I was continuing to max my effort shooting for that sub-24. Then my headlamp started blinking. It was tapping out along with me. I scrambled to get my backup headlamp out and lacked the coordination to situate it properly on my head. Getting the fit right had to take me a solid minute or more while hiking. It was agonizing.
And then, it happened. I'm more mad about this situation than I am the lady that almost ran us over at Robinson Flat. Another runner passed Lucas and I and was running at a noticeably faster pace than us. He immediately and boisterously blurted out, “I hate to break it to you guys, but if you’re not running this hill at this stage, you’re not going to get a silver buckle.” And I took that as fact. I didn’t have the ability to process it any other way. For one, without knowing exactly how much further it was to the top, I didn’t know how much total distance we had to go to the finish. It must be farther than I was thinking it was. Secondly, I question whether I had the mental capacity to even run that analysis even if I had the remaining distance available at that exact moment. And this guy had clearly run Western States before. Why else would you make that bold claim verbally, to other runners? So with something like two miles +/- to go, #### if I was going to look back with regret and think that I didn’t give it everything I had to get that silver buckle. So I started running. Hard. Beyond max effort. Up this damn hill. At mile 98. It felt like what I imagine climbing Everest near the summit would. And that lasted all of maybe 30 seconds before I literally collapsed onto the side of the trail. “Lucas, I can’t do it. I physically can’t do it,” I muttered as I lay on my side. And this is where a pacer is critical. If Lucas wasn’t there, I may have laid there for five minutes, thrown myself a pity party, and succumbed to the fact that I was going to miss the sub-24 hour goal by this much. But Lucas instantly chimed in, “alright, take a few deep breaths and drink some fluids. We’re going to keep hiking to the top of this hill.” And that’s exactly what we did.
Except here is the thing…something in that moment happened. I’m guessing that my reserves got completely tapped out, and then some. Because from that point forward, I don’t remember much until we hit the track at Placer High. I don’t at all recall the rest of that hike up to Robie Point. I do remember moving through the aid station as a volunteer took my bottle, told me to keep moving, and caught up to me with a full bottle of water not long thereafter. It was strange in that moment it didn’t feel like the race was actually happening any longer. Like I just seamlessly transitioned into a dream. I was oblivious to what was transpiring. And where my mind went in that moment, this is what the rest of the race felt like…we went up one street, back down the same street, on another similar street, back to the street we started at, back up another street etc, etc, etc. We were running these streets FOREVER. And we blew 40 minutes past our 24 hour goal. Dream Neil was pretty dejected about that.
But here’s what actually happened, per Lucas and my fuzzy recollection once he told me how the remainder of the race actually played out. HOKA had massive blue (10 foot tall?) blow up pylons with arrows on them leading the way through town to the track. When I saw the first of those within sight, that was my “finish.” And when I got to it, I proclaimed to Lucas that this was the finish and that we were done. “No,” he countered. “We need to go to the next one.” I protested but ultimately gave in. We hobbled along to the next one and upon arriving, I had once again reached the finish line, completely stopped, and was ready to lay down. Lucas again urged that we needed to proceed to the next pylon. This wasn’t at all the deal, I thought. He told me that I needed to get to this one. And now he’s changing the rules. Total horse ####. Pylon. Finished. Argument. Plylon. Finished. Argument. Continue. Rinse. Repeat. For good measure, I threw in a few instances of thanking imaginary people that were sitting in empty chairs, chairs that homeowners had left out from watching the race the previous evening, for coming out to watch the race. Then I tried to finish at a parked car. And apparently attempted to head into someone’s yard. And yet somehow after all of this, we made it through town and I snapped to when the lights of the track came into view. As we entered the track, relief was near. I saw my buddy Joe. He let me know that Sue was waiting on the homestretch and shortly thereafter both of my daughters joined alongside me for the last 200 meters. Still a bit disoriented, you can see my confusion here for about 5-6 seconds as I round the final corner and see the clock at the finish line for the first time. I stare blankly. The clock read 23:50:XX. Not. Possible. Because wherever my mind went over the previous couple miles, it landed us 40 minutes past 24 hours. “We’re not under 24, are we?,” you can hear me ask confusingly. “YES!” was the overwhelming response. They urged me to “finish!” and “go get it!” But I earned this 100 meter walk. There was no reason to run right now. Despite my mental cloudiness, the feeling was pretty surreal. This is exactly what I had dreamed about. A sub-24 at WESTERN STATES with time to spare to relish in the moment but most importantly, cross that finish line with my wife, my daughters, and my great friends that had made this possible. Not just possible on this particular day, but possible over the course of the past five years.
When I envisioned that finish, the emotions were always pure elation and joy. Except what I felt as I approached and crossed that timing mat was mostly relief. It was over. I made it. Sure I was excited and proud, but my smile quickly faded. All I had wanted for the past 20 miles was to get off my feet. I staggered a bit after crossing the finish line, received my finishers medal, completely spaced on the desire to get a group picture under the finish line, and bolted out of sight to go lay down on the infield turf. And within a minute, it happened. Do you remember back a few chapters when I had to take a piss with six miles to go? The one I didn’t want to waste a minute of time stopping to take? Well now I had time. And apparently also zero control. So it just happened…a warm sensation hit my shorts. This wasn't quite the warm and fuzzies I had imagined upon finishing Western States. I felt like I should panic but was in no shape to really care and despite the fact that my shorts were likely already dark from sweat and water, I quickly tried to pivot my hips to hide the mild shame and requested a towel. In the end, I laid on that turf for a solid 30 minutes or longer with a towel and blanket covering my body before finally mustering the energy to change boxers and shorts underneath the blanket and then hobbled the length of the track to get some coffee with my trooper daughters. Funny enough, not a single person in my group realized what had happened to me on that turf until I told them later in the day. Whew. Ultimately, I'm just grateful that it wasn’t a turdle I had been holding in.
Stats and Race Thoughts
- Official Time: 23:51:33
- Overall: 56/208 finishers
- Male: 37/160 finishers
- Male Masters: 14/80 finishers
- Starters: 315
- Finishers: 208
- Finish Rate: 66% (worst since 2009)
- Median Finish Time: 27:54:31 (tied for 2nd worst in race history)
- Average HR: 141
- Calories Burned: 13,930
- Sat/Sun Steps: 188,516
- Quantity of Black Toenails: 6
- Layers of Skin Now Gone From Each Foot Pad: 7
- Quantity of Blisters: Indeterminable
- Instances of Incontinence: 1
I don’t believe I ran my perfect race. I definitely lost efficiency and time as I battled never before experienced mental fatigue, the inability to focus eyesight, and a bit of a loss of balance and coordination. I don’t know if this was a result of the early altitude exposure, a nutritional deficiency, the heat, or some combination thereof, but it was definitely impactful the last 30+ miles. That said, I pretty comfortable saying that I left everything I had physically on that course. I’m proud of that. I’m proud of the fact that despite the heat, I ran almost perfect pacing compared to my personalized 24 hour pace targets. Here’s where I was at for every aid station (+ ahead of or - behind my 24 hour pace); -1, +1, 0, -1, -6, -5, -4, -2, 0, -3, 0, -12, -9, -16, -13, -16, -11, -11, -5, +9, +9 (the bolded represent drops in pace resulting from the two aids stations I sat down at for 5-10 minutes when I saw my crew). All things considered, besides the struggles late in the race, I likely could not have better scripted the execution of how this race unfolded for me.
Up next: The final chapter of this far-too-long race report...post race happenings, thoughts, and what's next.
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Dr_Zaius
Footballguy
Yeah, he must have been in rough shape. I can't imagine the things that would be going through my head if I had to abandon my task of helping a friend through an experience like this. It's good for Joe's sake that our hero was able to persevere.
SFBayDuck
Footballguy
The river crossing is such a cool scene, especially without the rafts. Those volunteers work shifts for hours standing in that water helping people across, so awesome.
What a ####! And he obviously didn't know what he was talking about.
It's amazing what can happen to the mind when you're just exhausted like this. It's like the brain holds on and holds on until it just can't anymore. I still don't know what happened in the last 3-4 hours of Grindstone. Good for you, and your pacer, for keeping you moving.
I'm not
, you're What's up with you and Sue and bathroom issues at California 100 milers?
SteelCurtain
Footballguy
My god. It is dusty in here.
What a fabulous report and accomplishment. Thank you so much for sharing.
What a fabulous report and accomplishment. Thank you so much for sharing.
- RACE REPORT - Part 5 of 5
- Western States Endurance Run (WSER)
- Distance: 100.2 Miles
- Elevation Gain/Loss: 18,090ft/22,970ft
- Date: Sat/Sun, June 26-27, 2021
The Golden Hour – We retreated around 6am to a hotel in Auburn for a few hours of rest and came back to Placer High School for the last half of the Golden Hour, which is the last hour of the race prior to the 30 hour cutoff. As race director Craig Thornley said at the pre-race briefing on Friday, the world would be a better place if everyone witnessed the Golden Hour just once. So watch this 28 minute clip that Billy Yang put together when time permits. Or this clip of our boy @SFBayDuck. It's one thing to watch these videos, but it's unreal and incredibly emotional to experience this in real time. The added bonus for me was that it allowed us to witness a couple of the other Minnesota runners come through in the last 12 minutes of the race, one of which was overcome with emotion and bawling as she entered the track with her pacer and friends. :goosebumps: Witnessing the end of the race also made me realize that I definitely finished in better shape than this guy, who has the ultra lean perfected and temporarily hits the invisible force field at the finish line before busting through it with a minute and change to spare. Not surprisingly, he ended up getting taken away by an ambulance.
Awards Ceremony and Swag - We stuck around for the Sunday afternoon awards ceremony. Once again, a pretty cool event. They recognized the top 10 men and women finishers, all of whom have automatic entry into the 2022 race if they so choose. What an amazing group of athletes. I can’t fathom how these people can run this race in 14/15/16/17/18 hours. Seems impossible. Yeesh. Anyways, they then announced all finishers and awarded them their custom engraved buckles. Here's my hobbled acceptance. We also received quite a bit of swag at the pre-race check-in on Friday. A Rabbit technical t-shirt, HOKA Western States backpack, and lots of other goodies.
Random Musings
- Lucas and I ran through a stretch of single track during the darkness in the last 20 miles that had to last at least a half mile where all you heard was the sound of rattlesnakes. Everywhere. It was surreal. I really wished I had video recorded the sound. Sue was extremely grateful that she wasn’t pacing me during this section when I told her about it. Not for someone with a significant fear of snakes.
- I dabbled early in the race by filling a couple bottles with the GU Roctane electrolytes that were available at the aid stations. I wanted to do so with the thought of just using that as fluid intake late in the race so that I wouldn’t have to mess around with pouring my Tailwind powder into my bottles and having them filled with water, all in an pre to save seconds/minutes. Whatever redish flavor they had wasn’t bad. I’m definitely planning to use that later in the race. And then I filled a bottle once again mid-race, headed out, took a drink and…WHAT IN THE ACTUAL HELL. Green tea? Seriously? GREEN ####### TEA? People drink this flavor? While running? And during ultra events? F’ing disgusting. I checked at most aid stations for the remainder of the race and all they had was Green Tea flavored Roctane. Gross. Offensive, even. If any of you like this flavor, just shame on you.
- By the way, I failed to mention that Joe had to finish the 16 mile stretch that he had planned to pace me on. There are no easily accessible aid stations on that Cal Street section, so when he arrived at Cal-2 told him that he had to get to Rucky Chucky to get extracted. So funny.
- More pics; Cougar Rock (Mile 10ish?), Duncan Canyon (mile 24), on the way to Rucky Chucky along the American River (during training camp - Mile 76ish)
My hydration throughout the race was on point. I could not have drank more fluids if I had tried. As such, I felt good about having avoided a recurrence of the rhabdo that I experienced after Superior in September of 2019. My feet were pretty clearly wrecked post-race on Sunday so there wasn’t much active recovery that day. I awoke Monday morning with feet that looked like stuffed sausages. Painfully swollen. My wife, concerned about how much they had swollen (especially my right foot/ankle) and whether I had some underlying rhabdo going on that may be impacting the blood flow return from my legs, requested that I pop into the Truckee hospital to get checked out. I held up my end of the bargain (erring on the side of caution if I ran another 100 mile race) and obliged her request.
They quickly ran x-rays and drew blood to check my labs. The x-rays found something in my right ankle, but they were unable to diagnose exactly what it was. There wasn't a lot of concern, which was good. The possibilities were a small avulsion fracture where the tendon pulls a sliver of bone loose (sounded unlikely), partial tear in the tendon, or calcification on the tendon from overuse/trauma. Hmmm…I wonder which is most likely.
They gave me a walking boot and crutches and told me to stay off the foot for a week or two. No problem, they hurt like hell anyways. But then my labs came back. Ugh. Rhabdo confirmed. My lab results nearly identical to post-race at Superior in 2019. When your muscles break down they release protein (Myoglobin) into your bloodstream. This protein build up can cause kidney failure, as your kidneys struggle to remove waste and concentrated urine. So, déjà vu it was. CK levels are indicative of muscle damage and rhabdo…normal levels are in the range of 30-200. My CK was 27,000 (it was 25K in 2019). The encouraging sign was that my Creatinine levels were normal, which indicated that my kidneys were still functioning properly, but the doctor strongly recommended an overnight to flush my system via IV fluids, bring the CK levels down, and avoid renal failure. Avoiding renal failure? Twist my arm, I suppose. So I spent about 30 hours in the hospital before being released with decreasing CK/rhabdo markers and was advised to hydrate like crazy. I’ve done so, and markers continue to decrease towards normal levels.
I also followed per their recommendation with an orthopedic specialist when I arrived back in the Twin Cities, which continues to feel better by the day. Same x-ray results and assessment here…either a partial tendon tear or calcification on those tendons on the front of the ankle. Treatment is the same either way, rest. Check.
What’s Next? – Well first and foremost, I’ve officially filed my retirement papers from 100 mile races. And what better way to go out than finishing Western States? I’ve quite enjoyed challenging myself and pushing the boundaries of what I’m capable of. I love everything about ultras...the atmosphere of the events, the people, and the scenery. I love that these events give me something to look forward to and get in shape for. That said, with back-to-back recurrences of rhabdo following 100 mile races, the feel goods and rewards simply don’t justify the risks for me personally. I don’t want to run the risk of long-term kidney damage, and when I listen the doctors talk about this I feel like I’m playing with fire. Non-functioning kidneys would suck. I think it's quite likely that every runner that finishes an ultra has some level of rhabdo. Whether that's CK levels of 5,000 or 50,000, I have no idea. I'd love to know and find out. But without knowing, it's just something I'm no longer comfortable with as I would never forgive myself if I ended up with long-term health complications that arose form what's ultimately an admittedly selfish undertaking.
I will no doubt consider and likely enter into some shorter races for the fun of it, likely targeting cooler seasons/climates to minimize the heat impact of a rhabdo recurrence. Additionally, I’m excited to focus more on strength, cross training, and overall fitness and well being. I’m still hoping to run 20-30 miles per week of trails because I enjoy it and it been essential for my mental health, but I plan to mix in a bit more in the way of strength training and mountain/fat biking on the trails. I will also continue to follow along in here because it’s been a truly inspirational forum, I’ve learned a ton from you guys/gals, and I enjoy watching what everyone else is up to.
Thanks to all for taking the time to read. This was such an incredible event and experience with so many notable things transpiring over the course of a couple days. It seemed almost every day that a new recollectino from the race would pop into my mind that I felt at least someone here might take interest in, so I overdid it on details. Also, I'm sure it will be fun to pop back in here in a few years and re-experience the race.
So thanks for allowing me to do this as well as for inspiring throughout this journey.
tri-man 47
Footballguy
Yeah, there was lots of open disappointment expressed from Joe's wife (a very serious runner) towards Joe in that her position was that his best friend asked him to be involved in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that he basically didn't take seriously. And that by dropping, he let me down and jeopordized my goals along with that, but I didn't/don't feel that way. I can sort of understand that perspective. I was more bummed for Joe than anything else. Despite telling him repeatedly that my goal was to drop him, and that if that happened he'd never hear the end of it from me, never ever did I actually want that to happen. I don't envision ever giving him an ounce of crap about it either. I'm sure he feels pretty terribly about it. And he did so much else to help with this race. I think he just underestimated this section because it was "mostly downhill" (~4,500 feet), but 1,500 feet of climbing over 16 miles is still 1,500 feet and 16 miles, and he was clearly not trained well enough for that.
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MAC_32
Footballguy
It may take some marinating, but you'll be able to give him the business for it in due time.
SFBayDuck
Footballguy
I've been to multiple Rose Bowls, two NCAA national championship games, a Final Four, two NBA finals, etc, etc....nothing in sport compares to the Golden Hour of Western States. It's just the most pure example I can imagine of human will combined with the collective excitement and nervousness and joy from everyone there as those last few finishers come in.
And @SayWhat? your buckle may be a lot shinier than mine because you beat me by, oh, only six hours.....but my split on the track is waaaay faster than yours
