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| Hydration, Inspiration&Accountability, Caffeine&cactus...what more could I need? |
I've been training for the Vermont 100 and shifting into my more nomadic life of the spring and summer. It involves living out of bags and bins and milk crates and Ernie (my new ride to replace Chuck the Caddy truck) and sublets and tents and couches and such. I searched for a race that I could run around the end of April/beginning of May in order to check-in with my training. I wanted to assess what is working, what needs more work, and really sharpen my focus for the last couple months leading up to the 2017 Vermont 100. In my search I found the Jack Bristol Lake Waramaug Ultras, a road race that loops around the lake of its namesake. Its an historic race, one of - if not the- oldest/longest running ultras in the U.S. This year was its 43rd iteration and I was looking forward to running the 100K version. They also offered 50K and a 50mile distance options.
About a month ago, if you had asked me how my training was going, I would have excitedly laid it all out for you. I would have talked about how I'm still moving slower than I would like, how I still am carrying more bodyweight than I would like, but then I would geek out about how I am starting to see speed improvements, and possibly even getting a bit leaner, though its hard to tell. I was a bit all over the place, as was my schedule and my actual geographic location, but I was feeling solid and putting in the speed work. Keeping track of details and trying to do more than just putting in the miles. This was a renewed focus. One I don't feel that I've had for a few years now. I do believe that part of what has ushered in this focus and determination is having finally shed the burden of living what felt to be an inauthentic life and truly starting to feel at home in my own skin. Its been extraordinary. But, I set you up, yeah? Because I said "a month ago if..." and not "a week ago." A week ago, well now it would be two weeks, as I'm only just getting to writing this a week after the race... A week before my race I was limping around. I was spending more time on my foam roller than I was on the trails or the road. Walking was painful. Sitting was uncomfortable. Running was...mediocre at best, but better once I got moving. I had taken a gnarly fall a while back, and while things had seemed more or less okay, the stress of moving and life and everything that encompasses decided that my right leg would be a really great home to set up shop. The tightness was unreal. Honestly, I was worried that I was going to have to scrap the whole race completely. Instead, I decided that since it was a loop course that I would show up, I would start the race, and if at any point I felt like I was doing more damage, I would bow out. Because honestly, once I get moving it feels somewhat better, its sitting and driving and things like that which seemed to really aggravate it. But this race was not my focus point, my focus is the Vermont 100, and I didn't want to do anything that would further jeopardize my training for my goal race.
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| Lake Waramaug sunrise race morning |
Race morning, it was beautiful. The sunrise coming up over the lake was lovely and the weather was just right. I had slept well the night before parked on a side street of New Preston, CT in Ernie. Living the vagabond vehicle life. I stretched things out and ate some cereal, as I hadn't packed my camp stove this time so oatmeal was out of the question. I checked in, got my number and stretched some more. I was definitely still feeling tight, but not in as much pain as I had been earlier in the week. I was optimistic, having driven the course the previous day, and approached the start hoping to be able to complete the intended 100K before the day was out. The pre-race briefing was short and no-nonsense. The question was asked "Are there any questions?" After a short pause Rob, the race director said "Alright, 5, 4, 3..." folks realized the start was about to happen and milled closer to the start line. "2, 1. Go for it!" We started with an out and back before beginning our counter-clockwise loops. My leg felt a little stiff but I wasn't experiencing the same hip pain that had been dampening my spirits earlier in the week, so the hopeful spirit continued. I wasn't pushing my pace, just trying to keep it steady and consistent, and warm things up.
After the out and back my first loop came and went. I was moving well, and more or less pain free. I didn't feel as though I was adjusting my gait in any way to offset the shenanigans of my right leg, so I kept pushing through. There was a spot on the first loop where I could smell the honeysuckle before I saw it and it transported me to the memory of my side yard as a kid and how intoxicating I found those plants.
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| honeysuckle by the lake |
Nearing the end of my second loop my stride was feeling less smooth and I was having short waves of pain in my right hip. I slowed down a bit, tried to shake things out, and kept moving. Fortunately, by the time I reached the start/finish area I was feeling better, so I decided to push through. I had sworn to myself I wouldn't do anything stubborn or stupid, and I felt I was still striking that balance. So, off on loop three I went.
About halfway through that loop, I was starting to question my decision. The tightness and pain in my hip was coming in more consistent waves, and I just really didn't want to do anything that was going to prolong whatever this injury is. I backed off my pace a bit, even walking for a little while, but I felt better running, so I switched back to that. By the time I reached the last aid station before the start/finish area, I knew that the smart thing to do would be to throw in the towel. I thanked the volunteers for being out there, and took a picture of one of their (many) entertaining signs.
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| These 'free' bikes were about 1.5 miles out from the start/finish. I was tempted to bring in the race car... |
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| Wise words |
I reached the start/finish and let Rob, the Race Director, know that I needed to call it a day and give him my number. "Well, how far have you gone?" I looked at my watch: "27.8 miles," I replied. "Well, if you still want to get credit for the 50K, you can just run out to the turn around and come back and call it good." I was surprised and stoked. Some folks aren't so willing to make an adjustment like this on the fly, and I was grateful for the opportunity. Although I showed up knowing full well that I may not be able to finish my intended distance, I was really happy to know that I would still have an official finish logged, rather than a DNF.
Details:
I left the start/finish and headed out on a short out and back. Knowing that my body was in for just a little more running, I tried to pick the pace back up to where I had been towards the beginning of the race. I wanted to finish strong and not just limping in. My hip cooperated for the most part, and I was able to run it in. It was by no means a PR, but I felt good about how I had continued to check in with my body, to gauge what as reasonable and what was possible, and what was smart, and make decisions accordingly. I officially finished the 50K with a time of 6hours 10minutes 05seconds.
The volunteers and race staff were awesome. If you find yourself out in this neck of the woods and want to participate in a chill and historic race, I would suggest checking this one out.
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| My 50K medal |
Shoes I ran in: Altra Escalante (super happy with these kicks)
Official Finish Time: 6:10:05
Things I ate: about 2 bananas, a boiled new potato, some Louisville Vegan Jerky Bourbon Smoked Black Pepper strips, curried cashews, dried mango, Nuun Lemon-lime tab with caffeine, pickles/pickle juice. (Pre-race I had a bowl of cornflakes and coconut milk)
The Post Script:
The Post Script:
I've laid off running for the last week and change. I splurged and got a sports massage to try and aid the healing process. I've been biking and walking around, but resisting the urge to run, and focusing on stretching and foam rolling, resting and recovery. I'm trying to employ every bit of patience I have and not get stressed out that I am falling off a bit from my training plan, to keep in perspective the quality work and miles I've put into my training so far, and knowing that I will get past this injury and get back into it soon. I have big goals for this year's Vermont 100, I still think they are reasonable, and I'm looking forward to seeing just what I can do there this July. I'm once again running for the Team Run 2 Empower, raising money for Vermont Adaptive Ski and Sports. You can find out more about them here: VASS. And if you're feeling generous and philanthropic, you can donate to my fundraising page by clicking here. All of the money goes DIRECTLY to VASS. If you need a further incentive on top of just feeling good about donating to a great program, leave me a comment here or email me and I'll send you some baked goods or a handprinted postcard through the USPS. (I formerly owned a bakery and studied printmaking, so I promise it will be good.)
As always, thanks for reading and I hope this finds you well.
Lastly, this run is dedicated to my Uncle Mike. He was a fighter, and he passed away this weekend. I'm grateful for every time he gave me a hard time for being a 'crazy' ultrarunner. I'll keep running with him in my heart.
Music that's been keeping me going:
Car Seat Headrest and Naked Giants doing an incredible Talking Heads cover:
Minus the Bear live on KEXP, who I managed to see about a month later in Brooklyn, awesome to reconnect:
Ought on KEXP, because sometimes when there's a big beautiful blue sky, this is all that I have left:
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