There is no such thing as an "easy" 100-mile run. I was painfully reminded of this fact as I witnessed a second sunrise during the 2009 Rocky Raccoon 100-mile Trail Run in Huntsville, Texas. This event was intended to be a mere training run in my quest for a finish at the Leadville 100 later this fall. I received a lot more "training" than I had bargained for.
I finished this race in just over 23-hours last year. I figured I could easily improve my time given my current training level, but would be satisfied with any finish under 24-hours. The possibility of dropping out or having to worry about the mandatory 30-hour cutoff time did not even cross my mind.
The day started out perfect. I was feeling strong and running well. I completed the first of five 20-mile laps in less than 3.5-hours. I immediately headed out on the second lap and reached the marathon mark at 4.5-hours. At 30-miles I was feeling great and even starting to think that a sub-20-hour finish was a possibility.
I started to feel nauseous at the 32-mile aid station. No problem. I grabbed some pretzels, took an electrolyte tablet, and started walking. I walked the next 8-miles to complete my second lap, but my stomach was getting worse.
Friends and family had set up a 1/4-mile corridor to cheer on the runners as we approached the lap turnaround point. Of course, this is where my stomach decided to let loose. It was so fast and uncontrollable that I didn't even have time to veer off the trail. All I could do was keel over and listen to the gasps of horror from the crowd of onlookers. I even heard a child say, "Mommy, what's happening?". This is one of the reasons why ultrarunning is not much of a spectator sport.
It took me 7-hours to complete my third lap. My nausea was getting worse to the point where I could not take a drink without throwing up. With no way to get fluids into my body, I was showing signs of severe dehydration. I could not continue without putting myself at risk. I was done. Just like at Leadville last fall, it seemed 60-miles was my limit. I was very discouraged, but knew that dropping out of the race was my only option.
I laid down and slept for more than 2-hours. After I woke up, my nausea was somewhat improved and I felt like having something to drink. Over the next hour, I drank about 1-liter of fluid and waited to see if my body could rehydrate itself. I realized things were getting back to normal when I had to get up and use the restroom.
I had already convinced myself that this race was over. However, my stomach was feeling better and there was still 12-hours left before the 30-hour cutoff time. Even if I could manage to get back in the race, the prospect of being out on the course until noon on the second day did not sound like much fun. I was really keen on the idea of getting some more sleep. As I fought this internal battle, I decided to get out my MP3 player and listen to some music. The song "Tubthumping" just happened to be queued up:
"I get knocked down, but I get up again;
You're never going to keep me down."
Despite what my brain was telling me, it was time to get back out there for two more laps.
The next lap was an exercise in moderation. I would jog until I started to feel nauseous and then I would walk. I was tired and experienced a few instances of "sleep-running", but I managed to finish the fourth lap in just under 6-hours.
During my fifth and final lap, I paused to watch the sunrise ... again. I had never been out on a course longer than 24-hours, but I was shocked to see how much the daylight energized me. I could run again. Every step was one step closer to home. I finished my final lap in 5-hours and proudly crossed the finish line with a time of 28-hours, 21-minutes, and 49-seconds.
Last year, I received the hand-crafted sub-24-hour belt buckle. This year, I received the not-quite-so-fancy buckle for those finishing under 30-hours. The one from this year means so much more to me knowing what I had to overcome to get it. Despite all of the negative self-talk coming out of my brain after three laps, I finished. Now I realize that this is exactly the kind of training I needed if I'm going to have a chance at finishing Leadville this fall.
