As I mentioned in the previous post, to train for the ultra marathon I ran four days a week, cross-trained with P90X two days a week, and rested on Fridays. My longest run was 25 miles, and the most mileage logged in one week was 45. As you can tell, this sounds almost like the typical marathon training plan, so it is easy to see why I was apprehensive about running twice as far as my longest run.
The race begins with a gradual two mile ascent that is easily runnable if you are not trying to conserve energy. However, on this day, I used a run-walk pace, which was really all that could be done considering the number of runners that were ahead of me. After you crest the hill, the next three miles are fairly flat with a subtle down hill grade as you move toward the first aid station. When you are approximately 1/4 mile from the aid station you reach the steepest hill, which prompts a steady hike. Finally, you have made it to the Elephant Head aid station. At this point you can either take the out-and-back trail to Elephant Head, which provides a beautiful western view of the Great Salt Lake, or you can enjoy the five mile loop around Split Rock Bay...either way, you will need to complete both at some point. I chose the out-and-back route at this time, so I could be at Elephant Head as the sun was rising to enhance the already spectacular view. It appeared many others chose to do the same, so the jaunt took quite awhile because it was on single track. Once I reached the turnaround point, I took a moment to enjoy the fabulous view.
On the return trip from Elephant Head, I stopped to grab a bottle of GU Brew from my first drop bag to carry on the Split Rock loop. I took off toward Split Rock still feeling quite fresh and ran the two mile downhill section with the pace of gravity. Then, you come upon a gradually ascending section of switch-backs that seem to go on forever, although it is really only about a mile and a half. Once you reach the top of the switch-backs you begin the jaunt back toward the Elephant Head aid station to complete the upper half of the figure eight. I stopped at the aid station for another moment to grab some Perpeteum, then headed off toward the starting line, which is really mile 19 of 50. By this point my partner that I had been running with is beginning to cramp a lot, and changes shoes. I think nothing of it at the time, as he has run many 50+ mile races. However, between mile 20-21 he is now incapable of running, and tells me to go ahead because he is not sure he is going to make it. I was not pleased with this option considering I thought he was going to be there to drag me through those final twenty miles; when the real race would begin. Considering I didn't have an option if I still wanted to finish, I continued on by myself, and began picking up the pace a bit to try to make up for the time lost from trying to work the cramps out.
Now the journey began alone, and on the east side of the island, where everything is flat and seems to go on forever. There is another quick aid station at mile 22, and from there begins four long stretches. At mile 22 it was probably 11:45, which puts me quite a bit behind my goal of 11 hours. However, since this was a new experience, my real goal was just to finish, so I did not worry about it because the worst thing I could have done was try to make up too much time and bonk a few miles later.
This next stretch was a little over five miles long, and probably one of the more difficult sections mentally. The sun was starting to blaze, and there wasn't a stitch of shade to be found, and to top it off, I was now on my own, so I had to use this section to practice altering my mental state. The one thing I had going for me is that I had been running without my iPod, so when I turned some tunes on it picked me up a little. As I was slogging along it felt like eternity because I was continually rounding the mountain, and could not pick out an end in sight; everything looked the same. Somewhere around mile twenty five I hit the proverbial wall for the first time, and felt discouraged because it seemed this section of the course should have been over. Since I was literally in the middle of nowhere, I did not have much of an option but to keep running. When I finally made it to the Frary aid station I was greeted by my partners wife, Erin, and many helpful volunteers. This aid station was fully stocked by http://www.blackdiamondequipment.com and by far had the most to offer. One of the volunteers offer to make me a grilled cheese, which sounded wonderful at this point, as Erin assisted with the changing of my shoes. I had ran the first 27 miles in http://www.brooksrunning.com/Cascadia, but I was sure looking forward to the added cushioning of the Hoka Stinsons I was about to bless my feet with. I think I spent about ten minutes at Frary just enjoying the shade under a canopy and my oh-so tasty sandwich. By the time I left the station I still had not seen Jim, so I assumed today was not his day, and headed out toward the Ranch.
The stretch toward the Ranch was comparable to the last one, and also seemed to go on forever. The only thing I had going for me at this point was the expectation of seeing my wife at mile 33. She had ran the 25k route, and planned on meeting me at the remaining aid stations to provide assistance, and most importantly, mental support. During this next section it felt that I was experiencing a constant wall. I had lost all motivation, and was now slowing getting baked by the sun; as it was early afternoon. Needless to say, like the last section, there is really nowhere to drop, so I just kept trudging along at a snail's pace. After about an hour and fifteen minutes I finally saw a canopy, which snapped me out of the hour long funk I had been in. When I arrived at the Ranch aid station I was pleased to see Stacy had made it. However, Jim was there too, which confirmed that he unfortunately had dropped from the race. As mentioned prior, this aid station marks mile 33. Also, it marks the turn around point. So, this is mentally the most difficult point of the race. I had just spent the last three hours running in the middle of nowhere, and I have to now do it all over again. I was also extremely tired at this point, and mentally ready to drop out. My mind was starting to rationalize dropping by telling me it is ok, since I had now run seven miles further than I ever had before. I took another ten minutes in the shade, and munched on some life-altering oranges. I am not sure where they came from, but these oranges were almost orgasmic.
Some how I managed to get up at this point and continue running again. I am not sure what motivated me, but I just kept telling myself that I had been running too long today to give up, and since I had 12:30 hours to finish the race that is how long I intended to run for if it was needed regardless of finishing. As I took off I asked Stacy to meet me somewhere in the middle, not so much for aid (because it is against the rules), but just so I could see a happy face, and bring me back out of a funk. When I was a couple miles in I did run in to Stacy, and Jim and Erin were also there. At this point Jim stated that he was going to try to pace me from the Frary aid station to the finish. I did not know what to say at this point, but it did raise my spirits quite a bit. As I kept trudging it seemed that I was getting oh-so slow. I was now about 37 miles into the race, and was pretty sure that I could have laid down on the trail and been content staying there the rest of the day. At this point I noticed a familiar figure coming toward me...it was Jim. He just started walking with me for company. We really did not talk, but it was very nice to feel as if you're not the only person on the planet. We finally reached a point when Frary was approaching, and a man from the station came running to us to let me know that I had to be in and out of the aid station by 3:30, which was 6 minutes away, or I would be disqualified. When he stated this, my first inclination was...so what. My attitude was quite negaitve by this point, as I had been experience the ubiquitous wall for what seemed like the last half hour. However, when we arrived at the aid station, my crew got my fuel/drinks prepared, and a volunteer was kind enough to dump ice water on me. The ice water was so cold it almost put me into shock, however, the bath coupled with my crew pushing me along was what I needed to carry on.
We made it out of the aid station within four minutes, and I did not even have a moment to contemplate dropping. Now that I am reflecting on this point of the race, I am so thankful to have had such wonderful people supporting me, because without them I am quite certain that my race would have ended at mile 39. At this point I knew that I was going to be able to complete the distance; the only issue was whether I would make it within the alloted time.
As I left Frary on last time, I saw three other runners not too far ahead, who also would be fighting the cut off time. These people provided me with a little motivation, since I was now in a position to pass someone for the first time in hours. The first gentleman I came upon appeared to be in really bad shape. I had crossed paths with him earlier, near the turn around point, and he looked trashed then. When I approached him this time I felt bad for him because I could tell he was not going to make it at this pace, but he was just too stubborn to drop. As my partner and I passed him, we shouted words of encouragement, but knew he was not going to make it much further. The other two runners were slightly further ahead of him, and appeared to be a father-daughter team. They were moving at a little faster pace then the guy I had just passed, but they too were slowing considerably, and seemed defeated. Finally, around mile 43 I passed the tandem, and got into a nice groove. Jim and I were on auto-pilot now, and he was prodding me along at a solid walk/run pace, which was actually helping me gain time on the cutoff. This section was really quite a blur, as it all had become mechanical at this point. The next aid station was near mile 45. We were in and out, and I now had 1:45 left to complete the final five miles. On any normal day I could cover twice the distance in the alotted time, but today, I was going to use most of it.
As you leave the Mountain View aid station you begin an immediate, steep ascent for a 1/4 mile. This section was by far the most difficult for me. While it was not very long, I was so fatigued, and my steps so small, that I could barely mantain forward progress. I continually cursed in my head until we reached the top, which was a satisfaction in itself because it marked the end of any real hills to contend with.
There was still one more aid station (Lakeside)between mile 45 and the finish, which was great because it provided me with another focal point instead of trying to cover five miles. It is strange how five miles seems so far after covering 45, whereas any other day of the week this is a recovery run. When I made it to the final aid station I was quite dizzy, so I sat for a few minutes are enjoyed more delicious oranges. At this point I knew I would finish the race within the time limit, so I took my time to make sure the dizziness subsided before continuing.
As I left the aid station I began to get teary for the first time because the magnitude of the race began to set in...or, maybe it was the thought of enjoying my traditional post race pizza and beer. Regardless, I just had to make it around Buffalo Point, then the finish line would be within site. However, Buffalo Point ended up being a little more technical than the rest of the race, so this part ended up being a little slower because I was not too sure-footed by this time, so I ended up walking a lot of it. Once we were out of the technical area we began another slow run, which actually hurt less than walking, but my heart rate was so elevated I could not breathe either, so there really wasn't any way of pleasing me. Apparently, once the finish comes within view there is still approximately two miles left, so I still had more running left than I cared for. Although, with about a half mile to go I actually became even more emotional, and for a very brief moment I actually did not want the race to end. In my mind I felt I should just keep going, since I had spent the entire day, why stop now? Thankfully, that thought left my mind promptly, as I rounded the corner to see my family. My mother was kind enough to watch our kids for the night, and she brought them out to the finish line. It was such jubilation to see my happy kids just running around and their big smiles when they realized the crusty sweat drenched guy was their father. I finally crossed the line with just over 12 minutes to spare, which placed me third to last of the finishers. While I would have liked to finish the race under 11 hours, so I could qualify for Western States, at the end of the day I could have cared less because the journey was priceless, and would recommend to anyone who has finished a marathon...an ultra feels so much better, so give it a shot.
As an aside, I have been compiling this entry for months, so I apologize if it does not flow as well as it should, since I have been through various mental states during its composition.
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