So a January 50K always seems like a good idea. Something to keep me motivated to train throughout the late fall and winter. In practice, it doesn't seem to happen. In fact, I read through last year's SoMo race report and it echoed pretty much what happened this year.
3 week vacation around Thanksgiving with no training. Christmas & New Year with minimal training. Go into the first race of the year very undertrained.
I did do a little better this year - got a slightly longer long run in, and had a 31-mile week (actually 5 days) as my "peak" two weeks before the race. I also hit the stair climber at the gym several times, since this course has a fuckton of climbing. (7500 ft total ascent.)
All things considered, I felt okay going into the race. I drove out the night before so I could sleep a little longer. Temperature was right around freezing the whole day. But virtually no wind. And, at the start at least, no precipitation. Really, the weather was perfect all day - or at least as perfect as you can expect for January in North Carolina.
This was the first year for the 50K, which just adds an additional 6-mile loop before joining the usual marathon course (which I did last year).
I wasn't sure what to expect for that first loop, but it was pretty similar to the other segments on the course. Pretty challenging, sustained climb for a couple miles - then it kinda flattened out a bit. Then, a long descent down to the aid station.
I was in the back third of the pack on that first climb. I was purposely taking it easy. I knew it would be a long day, and didn't have the training to push myself too hard on the uphills. I definitely got passed more than I passed other people. When we would get a (brief) downhill, I could make up a lot of ground, catching up to people that had put a pretty big gap on me.
The descent into the first aid station was a blast! A little technical, but very runnable. At this point, I'm feeling great and I'm all smiles as I get to the aid station. I quickly refill my two bottles with gatorade, grab a handful of potato chips, and start walking as I eat the chips.
A note on gear... I opted to not use a hydration bladder in my running pack. Bottles are much quicker & easier to fill. My pack has pockets for 2 bottles on the shoulder straps. I modified the pack a little bit so I could use 20oz bottles without them falling out. I wasn't sure that would be enough, so I had a third bottle in the big outside pocket in the pack itself. It wasn't reachable unless I took off the pack, but I'd have it if I ran out of fluids.
Aside from gatorade, I had 7 or 8 Gu gels (vanilla) to eat between aid stations. I also carry a 'hot shot' for cramps and a 5hr Energy. (I also drank a 5hr energy before the start of the race to get a little kick of caffeine.) I carry some bandages, space blanket, and some miscellaneous stuff in the pack. Not too much - it's pretty light, but enough to deal with common stuff that may happen on the trail.
Back to the race - I start the second leg of the course about 20 minutes ahead of the cutoff. SoMo 50K has some pretty tight cutoffs, so you can't screw around. You need to keep moving, and can't take much time at the aid stations.
Since the remainder of the course is what I ran last year, some of it is familiar. In particular, there are a ton of steps you have to climb to get to the top of this waterfall. It's hard enough doing that at the beginning of the course (for the marathon option) but even harder with 6 miles and probably 1000ft of climbing already completed. It's uphill almost the whole way to the second aid station - probably 5 out of the 6 miles. Once you finally crest the hill, you stay on the ridge and cruise in the 11-mile aid station.
My 2nd pit stop was pretty much a repeat of the first one. I topped off my bottles, grabbed a PB&J sandwich, and started walking. It's downhill, so I actually was jogging as I was trying to eat, so it took a little longer to choke down the sandwich. It turns out that it's downhill almost the whole way to AS3, and I passed several people on the way.
On that descent, I noticed my left heel was bothering me. I could tell a blister was forming. This was almost certainly because my foot was sliding slightly inside the shoe on the downhill descents. I knew I'd need to take care of that.
The organizer does allow runners to have 'drop bags' with whatever supplies they want to throw in there. I had put a complete change of clothes, and some other supplies, in mine. I thought my bag would be at the 21-mile aid station.
So when I cruised into the 15-mile aid station, I was delighted to be wrong. All the drop bags were there. So I grabbed a chair, sat down, and got my shoes & socks off. I figured as long as I was going to take my left sock off, I might as well put dry socks on both feet.
I had a really big blister that pretty much took up my entire heel. I put an extra-large bandaid on it to try to protect it as best I could. Once I had my shoes back on - I decided to change my shirts, jacket, and hat too - the ones I had been wearing were soaked already. (I may have overdressed slightly.) I didn't change my shorts - but those were soaked too. I started sleeting ever-so-slightly during all this. Not a big deal. It would have been worse if it was rain.
I quickly topped off the bottles again and grabbed some chips. Total time at the aid station was only 10 minutes - not bad considering. But many people I had passed had come and gone in the meantime. At this point, I'm still 40 minutes ahead of the cutoff, so in a pretty good position to finish in time.
The next part of the course is another long climb, broken up into 3 parts. So a long climb, partial descent, another long climb, another partial descent, and another long climb. I leapfrogged a few people along the way, catching (or passing) them on the downhills, only to be passed again on the next climb. I did manage to stay in front of them on the 3rd part of the climb, even stopping for a picture at the top. (They had a guy taking pictures right before you got to the aid station.)
At some point during the section, I felt like my brain was getting "fuzzy". I'm 4+ hours into the event, so well over 5 hrs since my initial 5hr energy shot. So I grabbed one out of my pack and downed it. Concentration is so crucial - one misstep and you can take a fall. 15-20 minutes later, I could definitely feel more alert.
AS4 (Fox Ridge) was awesome. Aside from the usual far, there was a guy cooking up bacon and pancakes on a camp stove. So after filling my bottles, I made a "sandwich" consisting of 2 pancakes and a bunch of bacon. (The pancakes were probably only 3" in diameter - they weren't huge.) I think I was about 45-minutes ahead of the cutoff at this point.
The next section has a 1-mile road section, mostly uphill, before it goes back on the trail. After I ate my 'sandwich' I dug out a tylenol from my pack. My left shoulder was killing me (I broke it several years ago skating). And, of course, just about everything else hurt too. Left heel, right ankle, right hip, quads... But mainly I took it for the shoulder. Ibuprofen used to be my painkiller of choice - but there have been some recent studies that taking it during endurance events is especially hard on your kidneys (since you're probably dehydrated). So I've been using tylenol instead.
After the brief road section, there are about 5 miles of gentle downhill. (Maybe with a very brief climb in parts.) In other words, it's a very fast section. I was able to run (jog) most of it, and caught a few more people before I got to the next aid station.
I didn't waste any time at AS5. Just the usual refill drill. I grabbed some chips and started walking... I think I'm 50-55 minutes ahead of the cutoff now. Probably far enough ahead that I could walk the rest of the way if I had to). That wasn't totally unthinkable. During that long descent, I could feel my left heel slipping again. Now, I think the bandaid was probably doing more hard than good. I decided I would just grit my teeth and bear it, though. There probably wasn't much I could do about it at this point.
I'm also regretting not changing my shorts (or at least re-applying some anti-chafing stuff) when I changed clothes. Running in wet/sweating shorts for hours makes you chafe in places you definitely do not want to chafe. At this point, it's a minor nuisance, but I figured the shower after the race would be pretty painful.
Last year, I remember someone had given me the advice to save my energy for the climb in the last section, which starts shortly after the last aid station. So I was ready for it - or so I thought.
That last section is a real asskicker. There's a 500ft climb, over probably 1.5 miles, followed by a 500ft descent. That's the climb I remember from last year. At this point, I was about 3 miles from the finish and I thought it was flat the rest of the way. Then I hit the next climb - probably 600ft over 1.25 miles (so, steeper). It seemed to go on forever. About halfway up, I saw another guy in front of me, and I was slowly gaining on him. I caught him at the crest of the hill, and started running the downhill, leaving him behind.
The surprises weren't over yet, though. After a short runnable section of downhill, it turns into a very steep technical descent. Steep and technical enough that I can't run it on my tired legs. So it's a long tedious hike down. I had been hoping to finish under 8 hours, but it appeared that would not be possible. I could see quite far in front of me, and there was no one in sight to try to catch. The guy I had just passed was already out of sight, so no real danger to him catching me. And I certainly didn't want to take a fall this late in the race. So I was patient and cautious as I made my way down.
Once I got past the technical stuff, there was probably a half-mile of runnable trail to get to the finish. I crossed the finish line around 8:06.
I changed into some dry clothes, which was a challenge in its own right. Everything wanted to cramp/spasm as I'm trying to get these wet clothes off of me in the handicap stall in the bathroom. I was able to assess the chafing and blister damage too - which was significant but actually not as bad as I thought it would be.
They had chili at the picnic area near the finish, so I grabbed a bowl and sat by the fire to warm up a bit before finally packing up to leave. I saw the organizer and asked how many people were still out, and if everyone was safe. There were still about 15 people on the course with about 40 minutes remaining before the 9-hour cutoff.
So despite being unprepared, I was able to finish. On one of the podcasts I listen to, the hosts insist that if someone can run a half-marathon, they can finish a 50K. Now, that might depend on the 50K - this particular one has a LOT of climbing. But I think the point is that most of this is mental. You have to have the will to keep moving. You have to be able to adapt to changing conditions. You have to take care of small problems before they become big problems. You have to be mindful of your pace, nutrition, and hydration.
I struggled with hydration in several events last year. I think I executed it almost perfectly on this one. Two 20oz bottles were enough to get from aid station to aid station. (I never needed my "reserve" bottle.) I peed a couple times during the event. (~ 2.5 hrs and 5 hrs.) Both times, the color indicated I was sufficiently hydrated. Just the fact that I needed to pee was a good indicator. There was a point early (1-2 hrs) in where I felt a little "waterlogged", but kept drinking anyway, and it went away. I have a 4-minute timer set on my watch and drank almost every time it went off.
Nutrition is rarely an issue for me, but I have a 30-minute timer on my watch as a reminder. If I'm between aid stations, I eat a gel. If I'm close to an aid station (before or after) I may skip it because I grab & eat food from the aid station. I felt pretty good from a calorie perspective the whole day.
Pacing-wise, I think I executed pretty well too. I didn't get caught up in the "irrational exuberance" of the start. I took it easy on the uphills, and saved my legs for the downhills and flats. I minimized my time at the aid stations. I had some fuel "left in the tank" at the finish - so I maybe could have gone a little harder, but to do so would have been inviting injury or a DNF.
I think the only thing I could have done better would be to take care of the blister and chafing earlier/better. If it had been a longer race (50-100 miles), it would have definitely been a problem. Since this was "only" a 50K, I could get away with abusing my body and still finish. Looking ahead to the other races I signed up for, I'll need to be better about it.
Huge thanks to the SoMo race director and volunteers. This course kicked my ass, but it was a great day! I'll probably sign up again next year, and probably go into it just as unprepared. But I can pretend that it'll motivate me to train over the holidays. lol
And one last treat for you, since I had to run on this damn blister for 15 miles, you get to look at it. :-) The loose skin is just what broke open during the race - the blistered area is about twice that size... And, no, there are no pictures of the chafing! Hahaha
Left - Saturday night after the race.
Right - Monday morning.
Looks like I placed a slightly worse than I did last year. But events with lots of climbing like this definitely don't play to my strengths. Last year, I placed 65th out of 100 starters (8 people did not finish). This year, I placed 66th out of 89 starters (10 people did not finish). Looking at the other finishing times, there was no way I was going to catch anyone ahead of me in that last section.
Next up is Rut Rogue 40-miler on February 2nd! That will have half the climbing that I did in SoMo 50K, so should feel a bit easier. :-)
So I was going to just post links to Facebook for the courses I made, but I thought it would be easier to put links here, along with instructions. A2A is so well-marked you really don't need a map or anything - you just follow the course markings. But I like knowing how far ahead the next turn is (without digging out the turn sheet). I also like my watch to alert me if I'm off course.
After a lot of experimentation, I finally figured out how to add waypoints to the course - I know this will work on a Fenix 5X if you're navigating using "follow course" mode. If you have any other device, your results may vary.
While we're on disclaimers, if this wrecks your device - not my fault. If you get lost - not my fault. If anything else bad happens as a result of reading this blog post - not my fault... :-)
With the exception of the 38-mile course, I chopped the courses up into multiple pieces. The Fenix 5X has a limit of 50 waypoints. The turns alone for the 87-mile course are around 80. By the time I added in waypoints for the aid stations, and alerts for RR crossings, steep downhills, etc - it was over 100. Garmin needs to get their shit together and remove this artificially low limit. (The Garmin Edge bike computers allow 200 waypoints, I think.)
Anyway... Here's how I get the courses onto my Garmin Fenix 5X... For non-Garmin devices you'll almost certainly want GPX format instead of FIT - and you're definitely on your own as far as getting it onto the device and using it...
1. Click the URL for the course
2. Click Menu->Download
3. Format: FIT / Course Pt Limit: 50 / Turn Warnings: NO
4. Click Download
5. Plug the watch into your computer with the USB cable
6. Copy the course(s) to the Garmin\NewFiles folder on the watch
7. Disconnect the watch
Using the course varies based on your device - it's even different across Garmin devices. For the Fenix 5X, I do the following:
1. Press the Start button on the watch
2. Pick my activity type (Skate)
3. Hold the menu button
4. Pick: Navigation
5. Pick: Courses
6. Pick the course you want to follow
7. Pick: Do Course
At this point, you still haven't started the actual activity. You'll hit the Start button again when you're ready to do that. So you probably want to go through these steps maybe 2-3 minutes before the start.
If you're doing the 49 or 87-mile event, you'll need to switch the course you're following partway through. To do that, you just follow steps 3-7 above. You may need to "stop navigation" before you can select a new course.
It's probably a good idea to "practice" all this before the day of the event!
The courses were created from the "Full Course PDF" posted here: https://a2a.net/about.htm I also found an older turnsheet (https://www.a2a.net/old/directions/turnsheet.html) that told me where some of the tricky downhills were, etc. DON'T USE THE OLD TURNSHEET. Forget I even mentioned it. Seriously - you will not make it to the real finish line if you use the old turnsheet. I'm only mentioning it so people know where I got the info.
With all that in mind, here are links to the courses I created in plotaroute.com...
87-mile, Start to CP4: https://www.plotaroute.com/route/702474
87-mile, CP4 to Finish: https://www.plotaroute.com/route/702479
(I removed a few of the 'go straight' alerts to get it under 50 waypoints.)
38-mile, full course: https://www.plotaroute.com/route/702487
49-mile, Start to CP5: https://www.plotaroute.com/route/702490
49-mile, CP5 to Finish: https://www.plotaroute.com/route/702491
49-mile, full course: https://www.plotaroute.com/route/696405
(77 waypoints)
I accidentally deleted my full 87-mile course when I made the 49-mile course. So if you have a device that supports more than 50 waypoints - sorry, I don't have a full course for you.
The weather looks great for Sunday. I'm going into this probably the most under-trained I have ever been. I have skated a whopping 113 mile total since November of last year. So we'll see how it goes. I know the hills are going to SUCK.
But that'll give me an excuse to hang out more at the aid stations. :-)
Good luck to everyone that's making the journey - and thanks in advance to all the volunteers!!!
Well - I haven't had an update in a while. After my DNF on the VM150, I refocused on getting ready for the Wicked Grit 50k. The hotter, sweatier, chaffier version of the Wicked Root 50k I ran back in March. This is the 3rd time I've done the course (the other 2 times being Wicked Root). Great event, great race director, and really a great course.
Wicked Grit differs from Wicked Root is a few ways. First, the course is unmarked. As it turns out, this isn't much of an issue. It's super easy to follow the trail blazes for the 5 different mountain biking loops that make up the course. Whenever you have the opportunity to switch to a different color blaze, you take it. And MTB traffic is (supposed to be) one-way, so you follow the arrows that accompany the blazes. Not bad at all.
The second important difference is that the RD gives everyone the option to run whatever course they want to. The basic rule is that, at the end, your GPS watch must show 26 miles. In theory, 3 loops of the Wicked Root route should come out to 26 miles... In theory...
I had preloaded the Wicked Root course into my watch already (so I could get off-course alerts). And, except for running up the "mountain" (which isn't part of the course), that really gives you maximum suffering. Although I guess if you really wanted to maximize the suffering, you'd run to the yellow "Spencer Mountain Loop", and repeat that until you had 21-22 miles, then run back to the start. That's the most difficult part of the course. I wasn't really trying to maximize the suffering -- I just wanted to do the normal Wicked Root course in the sweltering North Carolina heat to see how I would do.
The were others that ran the normal Wicked Root course too. Some chose to omit the Spencer Mountain Loop (which was totally allowed). I think one person may have opted to just run the Lake Loop over and over. This made it difficult to know what position one was in. Not that I really cared about that.
Anyway, the race started fairly uneventfully at 9am, and people were taking it relatively easy from the start. But probably within the first 2 minutes, the pack split because it wasn't clear which way to go on the trail. As it turns out, half the pack took a "shortcut" - which again didn't matter since the rule is you have to have 26 miles showing on your watch at the end. It doesn't matter how you get the mileage. Still, it was pretty amusing. I took the longer fork with a few others, since there was an orange blaze on a nearby tree, indicating that was the way to go.
Just like the other times I have run the race, the packs tended to bunch-up on the downhills. I started walking the uphills pretty early on (the steeper ones anyway) but would frequently catch people on the next downhill. After a while, the faster guys pulled away. I started passing a few people (almost always on downhills.) It probably didn't take more than a few miles before all the passing was done. Because of all the switchbacks, I'd still see people - but I didn't pass anyone else, and no one passed me.
One new experience - a damn bumblebee stung me in the shoulder about 30 minutes into the race. I didn't even antagonize the little bastard (as far as I know). I guess I did kinda look like a bumblebee - maybe he was pissed off because of some "cultural appropriation" or something. :-) Hopefully the fucker died after stinging me - but I didn't have a stinger embedded in me - so he probably lived. If it wouldn't have been such a pain to dig out my mini first aid kit from my pack, I would have taken some benadryl. My shoulder hurt in that spot the whole rest of the race.
The rest of the first loop was fairly uneventful. I was making pretty good time, even though (I thought) I was running a fairly conservative pace. There was one guy "on my tail". He'd start closing the gap on the uphills, but I'd increase the gap again on the downhills. I could see a guy in front of me too, at points of the course where there were switchbacks. But he kept increasing his gap on me, too.
I figure I had about a mile to go before I got back to the start, and my hydration pack stopped working. I figured the hose was kinked, and didn't feel like stopping to fix it. I opted instead to wait the 15 minutes or so it would take to get back to my truck - then I'd fix it when I refilled it. Given that I've been getting super dehydrated the past few events, I set an alert on my watch to beep every 4 minutes, reminding me to drink. That seemed to work well in training.
I saw a volleyball court and remembered from my previous Wicked Root experience that it was very close to the end of the lap. Sure enough, the start/finish line came into view shortly after that.
I made it back to the start at 1:49:38 - way ahead of my expected pace. And I felt great. Of course, the other 2 times I did Wicked Root, I felt great on the first lap - only to fall apart sometime on the 2nd lap. I refilled my hydration pack with ice (I bought 40 pounds of ice on the way to the race and had it in a cooler). Same for the 2 small bottles I used for gatorade - ice first, then gatorade. It was a quick stop overall - I started the second lap at 1:54:50 - so just 5 minutes.
But I forgot to verify the hydration pack was working again. I went to take a drink just a minute into lap 2, and still couldn't get any water. So I had to stop for a couple minutes to fix it. There's a "quick release" on the tube which had come lose. So I snapped it back in place and it started working again.
I resumed lap 2 and, just like my previous experience with Wicked Root, I started declining after a couple miles into the lap. I walked less-steep hills that I had run on lap 1. About the same time, my stomach started bothering me. (Another issue I've been struggling with at races.) It was really hard to push myself at all - I felt like I'd throw up if I ran too hard. I forced myself to run the downhills, but it was miserable. Eating anything was not going to happen. I did still drink whenever my watch alert went off - and did get a few calories from the gatorade when I drank that instead of water.
About halfway through lap 2, it finally occurred to me that I had been carrying tums the whole time, and they were in a pocket on my running pack - literally right next to my mouth. So I ate a couple and they eventually did help. One thing about endurance events is that you have to be able to recognize problems and solve them as they happen - preferably before they become too troublesome. I should have recognized this one sooner - especially since I had put those tums in that pocket, for that very reason, just the day before!
I also noticed that the tips on my toes kept ramming into the end of my shoes on the downhills. This is a sign that I was "braking" on the downhils and not running with the usual reckless abandon that I normally do. I also didn't help that my socks were soaked with sweat by then. My socks would occasionally bunch up slightly as well, but would work themselves out. So I didn't need to stop during the lap - but I did decide I would take some time to change socks when I got back to the truck. (I brought extras of everything.)
Nothing else eventful happened on lap 2, other than my gps really short-changed me on the distance. Lap 1 had been about 8.5 miles. When I made it back to the start, my watch showed 16 miles total. (So only 7.5 miles for lap 2.) This was not looking good with respect to the "26 mile rule". But I figured I wouldn't worry about that until the end, and see what the watch showed then.
It was 4:03:58 when I got back to the start. Still not bad! About 2:09 for the lap. Much more in line with the pace I thought I should be running. I grabbed some ginger ale at the aid station (My stomach did start feeling better toward the end of lap 2 - and I had even been able to eat a gel.) Then I went to my truck to refill my pack/bottles and change socks. When I took my socks off, I noticed my shoes were also soaked. I brought an extra pair of shoes, too, so I changed those as well. My feet immediately felt better. As I was doing all of this, though, everything wanted to cramp up - my feet, my calves, my abs... I had no urge to pee at all. I had peed a little after lap 1, but it seemed I was getting dehydrated despite my best efforts.
I grabbed some pretzels and bacon from the aid station on my way out and started lap 3 at 4:14:48. A few guys I had seen on the course (including the guy that was tailing me on lap 1) completed lap 2 just as I started lap 3. So they weren't too far behind, but there was no way to know how much time they'd spend before starting their third laps.
At this point, I'm walking even the slight inclines. But, with almost 4 hours before the 8-hour cutoff, I could easily walk the rest of the way and finish in the allotted time. So that was a comfort, even though I would certainly do my best to at least run the downhills. I also pre-emptively took some more tums early into the third lap, just in case. (I may need to add an alert for that on my watch in the future.)
About 1 mile into lap 3, the most annoying setback of the race happened - my mp3 player started to malfunction. My shorts were soaked with sweat (like everything else) and sweat had gotten into the player. So it thought the volume-up button was pressed and was stuck at maximum volume. I eventually had to turn it off. My phone was down to 33% at this point, and I was using it for live tracking. So having it play music would likely drain the battery before the finish. So I ran lap 3 with no music - which made it all the more difficult.
Lap 3 was a very lonely lap. Runners were nowhere to be seen. Even on the longer switchback sections, I couldn't see anyway ahead or behind me. That took a little pressure off to run hard (not that I could anyway). But it also made the lap seem longer.
During the Spencer Mountain Loop section, you get pretty far in, and then traverse several switchbacks to climb back out. It's heavily wooded, so it occurred to me that it was like climbing out of a pit back into the sunlight. (There's a brief section where you're in an unwooded area before getting back on the Soccer Loop.) Then my mind wandered from there to the "Pit of Despair"... It was pretty lonely there, after all.
Just before I emerged from the woods, another runner entered. So I did get some brief human contact as we waved and said predictable words of encouragement to each other. :-)
Everything hurts at this point. Quads are really, really complaining on all the climbs. I'm still running the downhills, but they're tough. There aren't many completely "flat" sections, but I'm walking those too.
I didn't see any other runners until I got within 1.5 miles of the finish. I saw 2 people (at different times) running the opposite direction on the trail. I figured they had probably "finished" but were short on miles - so were doing "out and back" runs to get to 26 miles. I also started doing the math, and figured that I would have - at most - 25 miles when I got back. Now I was pretty sure that my watch shorted me on the 2nd lap. I also wasn't sure what the RD would think, since I had run 3 full loops - which should have been 26 miles. (Actually, 30 miles - but the GPS reading is always shorter because of the tree cover and the constant switchbacks. The RD said he has measured the course with a wheel and verified it's 10 miles.)
My brain is pretty foggy at this point, and I'm (very, very slightly) dizzy. Heat, exhaustion, dehydration - probably some of each. I was wishing I had a 5-hour energy shot. Although at that point, it probably wouldn't kick in until I was done anyway. I focused as well as I could and made my way to the finish.
Anyway, I finally get back (at 6:36:53) and the RD congratulates me on finishing. I thank him, but also tell him I'm short of 26 miles. "How short?" My watch showed 24.85 miles. I could tell he was thinking about it, but I didn't want it to be an issue - so I said I would run the extra mile. After all, the rule is the rule -- I was 95% sure I didn't accidentally cut the course somewhere, but anything is possible. He suggests to run the Lake Loop, which is 1.3 miles.
So I start out on the course again. I decide to take the "shortcut" that some of the group took on lap 1. After all, I didn't need the full 1.3 miles - just 1.15 miles. Unfortunately, I got turned around and ended up at the volleyball court. I decided to just cut through back to the trail (which again, is fairly close to the start/finish). When I got back, I had only ran about 1/3 mile. So I continued running backward on the course for about another 1/2 mile. Just before I turned around (25.45 miles on my watch at this point) the same runner that I saw starting the Spencer Mountain Loop went by.
I got back to the start, and still wasn't showing 26 miles, so I had to run around a little bit more still. But at 6:55:45, I finally had the full distance. I chatted with the RD a few minutes, and tried to get a picture. But my phone was at 1% when I opened the camera app, and it shut down before I could snap the picture... Maybe next time! (Good thing I didn't try to play any music on lap 3...)
The building with the bathrooms had a garden hose - so I literally hosed myself off, then changed into some dry clothes before leaving. I wanted to wait until getting back to Raleigh to eat dinner, but knew I needed to have some kind of snack. There was a Hardees just before getting back to the highway, so I stopped and got a "Double Charbroiled Slider" and a diet coke. The slider was one of the most delicious things I've ever tasted. Of course, I was very hungry and had been eating gels and gatorade all day. So any real food was going to taste incredible at that point.
Legs are feeling surprisingly good now (that I'm not running). But I suspect tomorrow will be pretty rough.
This is the last year for Wicked Grit - so I'm glad I got to do it once before it went away. Next year, Wicked Root will have a 2-day "50-50" option. 50k Saturday, camp overnight, and 50k Sunday. As much as today hurt, I do plan on doing the 50-50 next year. I'm actually about 20 pounds heavier than I should be - so if I can lose that by next year, it'll make it a heck of a lot easier!
Congrats to all the other finishers, and thanks to Richard for putting on a great race!
PS - you can see my GPS track from the event here, which definitely had some weirdness going on in lap 2 (and 3). https://www.plotaroute.com/route/652421
Results aren't posted yet, but I'll add a link in the comments once they are.
Lap Split Times:
lap 1 - 1:49:38
break 0:05:12
lap 2 - 2:09:08
break 0:10:50
lap 3 - 2:19:05
break 0:01:00
lap 4 - 0:17:52 (extra 1.15 miles to get to 26 miles total)
Well, I finally DNF'd a race. Ever since I started doing (inline) ultras back in 2001, I have never DNF'd a race. I came very close in 2002 - the second year I did Athens to Atlanta. But I was so far ahead of the cutoffs that I could afford to spend 45+ minutes at a couple aid stations and limp my way to the finish. This year, I was not so fortunate.
It all started out great. 31 of us lined up in Ludington, MI - on the shore of Lake Michigan - at 8am Saturday morning. Almost all of us had signed up for 100+ miles, and hoped to be in Saginaw, MI sometime Monday morning. The start was uneventful and we all kept more-or-less together in the first few miles as we got out of town. This was against the strategy I told myself I would (should) follow - alternating run/walk intervals. But it was fairly cool at the start, and the road out of town was busy enough that it seemed safer to stick with the crowd. As soon as we turned off that road, though, I started walking and let the pack pass me. I started off running 1 minute, then walking 1:15. My heart rate was recovering nicely during the walk intervals - back around 120/121 bpm. I was feeling pretty good. The road surface changed from asphalt to dirt/gravel - which was a nice surprise too.
Probably 90 minutes into the race, the temperature started heating up. My heart rate wasn't recovering as good, so I lengthened the walk intervals to 1:30. That didn't last very long and I went to 2:00 walk intervals. I'm still feeling good, though. The temperature continues to rise, and 2 hours into the race it's already hot. This is the first time I notice my stomach feels a little "weird". I'm not feeling nauseated (yet), but something is not right. I atttributed it to maybe the heat, or maybe the Tailwind I was drinking (first time I ever tried it) or maybe the 2 terrible Gu gels I tried (Pineapple and Sea Salt & Chocolate). In any case, I wasn't far from the first aid station, so I figured I'd get some ice and some real food and maybe my stomach would settle down.
My parents and sister were crewing me for the race, and they were there waiting when I arrived at AS1. I sat down, they refilled my hydratoin pack and bottles, and I ate a little food. I was way ahead of my predicted ETA - mainly because I ran the first 3.5 miles of the course. It was nice to have the extra buffer, and my legs & feet felt great. So I didn't spend much time there (~ 8 minutes) and took off for the next leg of the course.
There was a last-minute course change due to bridge construction, so the race director had told us about a detour between AS1 and AS2. I had preloaded the (original) course onto my watch to help alert me if I got off-course, but it did not have the detour on it. So I would have to navigate the first part of this section without it. As it turns out, I missed a turn and went about 1 mile off course. Thank goodness the RD found me (and another runner) running down the road and got us turned around. Still, that just added a couple miles to a very long race. If the RD hadn't found us, it could have been MUCH worse. Luckily, I had completely filled my bottles and hydration pack at AS1, so I had about 3 liters of fluids - enough to get me to AS2 even with the extra distance.
It keeps getting hotter and hotter. I get to AS2 and finally get out of the sun. I'm about 5 hours into the race now and have run about 23 miles. Same routine as AS1 - refill fluids and food. I grab a sandwich and after 12 minutes, start walking. It's really tough to choke down the sandwich. By now, I just don't want to eat anything but I know I have to if I want to keep going. Drinking is starting to get tougher too - I feel like there's a bunch of liquid sloshing around in my stomach already. So I'm not thirsty at all, and the thought of drinking anything is getting unpleasant. I have timers on my watch set to go off every 10 minutes to remind me to drink, which I grudgingly do. Every 30 minutes, an "eat" reminder goes off and I try to eat a little more of the sandwich. This section of the course is in the woods, so it has a lot more shade than the road - but that's not saying much. There are still plenty of stretches with little/no shade. This is a legit "dirt" road (no gravel) and it's sandy in parts - so some of that sand ends up getting into the shoes. I exited the woods onto an asphalt road with maybe 3 miles to go to the aid station, and there is *no* shade at all. It is ridiculously hot. I walked most of that 3 miles to AS3.
Now I'm starting to realize I'm in trouble. I'm not eating enough. I'm not drinking enough. I haven't peed much at all so far - and I'm almost 8 hours into the race. Now, I'm hoping I can make it to the night portion of the race - and maybe make up some time then. When I got to AS3, my legs and feet still felt fine. But my stomach was *bad*. I spent about 48 minutes there cooling off, trying to eat, and trying to drink. I cleaned & lubed my feet (getting rid of all the sand & crud from the dirt road) and put on fresh socks. When I left, I felt much better. But it was short-lived. As soon as I got back out into the heat, I started feeling sick again. The AS3>As4 leg was only 6 miles, which was good because it was still brutally hot out, and still very little shade on the road. I walked most of that leg, and got to AS4 in about the same shape as I was walking into AS3.
I spent 37 minutes at AS4. Again, trying to cool down and force some food and fluids into me. By the time I left, I was only 24 minutes ahead of the cutoff time. So much for all the buffer I started off with! At least I was finally on the Pere Marquette Trail. To my surprise, it was a gravel trail - not asphalt. It made a very satisfying crunching sound as I walked on it. I'm still walking most of the time because there (still) isn't much shade. Every now and then, I'd get to a shady section and I'd jog a bit. I'm about 11 hours in now, and 40+ miles. The sun finally gets low enough in the sky to give more shade, and the temperature drops. Unfortunately, the lower temperature really isn't helping my stomach issues. I'm still not able to eat or drink much. I pass a couple other participants that are walking, and eventually catch a woman who is walking barely slower than me. (It took a long time to catch her.) We walked a few miles together as it started to get dark.
I did some math and figured that, at our current pace, we would get into AS5 with about 30 minutes before the cutoff. I was starting to slow down a little bit, though. My companion (I was in a bit of a daze and don't remember her name) was still looking strong though - so I encouraged her to go on without me. She resisted, so when we got to the next intersection I told her I needed to rest for a few minutes but she should continue so she could preserve what little buffer she had, and have a chance to continue on th enext leg of the course. I knew I would not be able to go on past AS5. I hadn't eaten anyting since AS4, and had barely drank anything. I probably could have pushed through, but it wouldn't have been safe to do so - definitely not at night. The only way to proceed safely would be to spend enough time at AS5 to force down more food and water - which would require more time than I had. I sat down on the trail for a few minutes to rest and record my final video update. My calf muscles started cramping almost immediately. I tried drinking a "hot shot" shot, but it didn't help. So I figured I might as well get moving again.
There was (almost) a full moon, so it was easy to see the trail even though I didn't have my headlamp. (I planned on picking it up as AS5.) I got into AS5 15 minutes before the cutoff and sat down. I learned I was the last person - all the runners behind me had dropped already. I confirmed the cutoff time, and knew I could not continue, so let the volunteers know I would drop here. (To the surprise of no one.)
I ended up with 51 miles (50.5 "official" miles) and placed 19th out of 28 "finishers". As far as the race results go, this wasn't a DNF - since the RD ranks everyone based on the distance they complete. But, for me, I didn't complete the course - so it's a DNF in my book.
The DNF doesn't bother me too much. I'm certainly disappointed that I didn't get to see more of the course. I had really hoped to do at least 100 miles, which would have been a first for me. I'm also disappointed that I allowed myself to get dehydrated. I thought the 10-minute timer would be sufficient, but I did not account for the insanely high temperature (95 degrees - highly unusual for Michigan in May). The things I was worried about - pounding of fet on asphalt, running in the rain, possibly getting too cold in the night portion of the course - didn't happen.
So, this was definitely a learning experience. I *will* have a better hydration strategy in the future. I'll recognize the signs earlier and make sure I don't get to the point of no return. I should have spent a couple extra minutes at AS1 and AS2 and chugged some more fluids there. I should have paced myself better in the heat - I waited too long to slow down. Better pacing and hydrating could have gotten me to the night portion of the race with at least an hour of buffer, if not more - and I could have built up more buffer overnight in the cooler temperatures.
So, when I'm back next year (and I *will* be back), I'll keep all of that in mind. Of course, knowing Michigan weather - next year it'll be 40 degrees and sleeting. You just never know. But I know I can complete this course - I just need to avoid self-inflicted mistakes.
Big thanks to the RD, the volunteers, my crew/family, and all the other runners. This was a great event with great people. See you all next year! :-)
I posted some video updates during the run, which I uploaded to youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cA3rti3BvLY
Race results: https://ultrasignup.com/results_event.aspx?did=48793
This is going to be a long one... Grab a beverage and settle in... :-)
A little background...
I first heard of GDR back around November 2016, so around a year and a half ago. Prior to that, I had never really done any trail running. I had completed one road marathon, and a couple half marathons. But a Facebook friend mentioned she was signed up for GDR and was looking for a 'pacer' to run with her for the last 30 miles of the course.
I looked up the event, and immediately knew it was just the kind of batshit-crazy thing for me. And the race director was taunting the runners on Facebook, with stuff like "You'll all be in a ditch, wanting to die. And I'll be there laughing at you." I'm paraphrasing of course - but that was the general tone, and it made me want to do the event even more. (WTF is wrong with me?)
Of course, the event sells out within hours of the registration opening (this year he had to start doing a lottery to get it), so I couldn't sign up for the 2017 event even if I wanted to. But I figured it was better to get my feet wet running part of the course, and maybe doing some other trail runs first. :-) As it turned out, I did not pace anyone last year, but I volunteered at a couple aid stations. So I got a little feel for the event. I have also ran many trail 50k races, and a 12hr race. So I have a little experience now. Having volunteered in 2017, I was guaranteed a spot in 2018 - so I of course signed up.
There's a 24hr cutoff for GDR, which seems generous until you consider the insane amount of climbing involved. The RD says there is 20,000 ft of ascent over the "68ish" (more like 74) miles. My Garmin watch recorded about 16,000 ft of climbing. This wasn't the first 24hr event I've done - I did a 24hr inline ultramarathon about 11 years ago. So I know a bit about pacing/nutrition/hydration for long stuff like this. Or so I thought.
Training for GDR was perhaps a bit lax on my part. Living in Wake Forest (Raleigh), there are some "rolling hills" around, but nothing crazy like the mountains in northern Georgia. I did add some hour-long workouts on the stair machine, which probably helped. But I didn't train like a sane person would. You really want to mimic the conditions of the course as closely as possibly. I trained on rolling hills. The closest I really came to anything like GDR was the South Mountains Marathon, which had some long hard climbs, and a similar amount of climbing per mile as GDR. But only 26 miles. So, basically I'd need to do SMM 3 times. When I finished SMM, I was certainly not able to do it a second time - but that was back in January. I did improve my fitness quite a bit before GDR, and knocked out a 50k (Wicked Root) as my last long run before GDR.
So, heading into GDR weekend, I'm in "decent" shape - but not "great" shape. There are a lot of unknowns. I alternate between optimism and not expecting to finish. Honestly, I was mentally prepared to DNF. But I wanted to see how far I could get. This is probably the first event I've done where I was not sure if I could finish it or not. It has a 33% DNF rate - and there are certainly stronger runners than me who have attempted it and failed to finish.
My wife and I drive down to Amicalola State Park (where the GDR finish line is) on Friday. We barely get there in time for the check-in and mandatory pre-race meeting. (Traffic sucked.) Sean (race director) offers some last minute advice and condolences. After, we grab some dinner at the lodge and head to the room to get a little sleep.
And I do mean "little". Buses take the runners from Amicalola State Park (finish) to the start at Vogel State Park. The buses leave at 2am, which means I needed to wake up at 1am to get ready. Which means I got 3 hours of sleep the night before my race.
Race day...
The bus ride was long & boring. I closed my eyes to rest a little bit, without much success. It was a school bus, so not exactly comfortable for a 90-minute ride. We get to Vogel and check-in again, and pick up the all-important railroad spike that runners are required to carry during the entire race (along with some other mandatory gear). I cram down some mini-cakes I bought at Walmart for "breakfast", and drink some water to pre-hydrate myself. I also drank a 5-hour energy shot for a little caffeine boost. A few minutes before 5am, we walked over to the start line.
A few more comments from Sean, a quick "happy birthday" song (it was Sean's birthday) and the race started. We start on a slight uphill, and a lot of people started running (jogging, really). I had positioned myself maybe 1/3 of the way back, and I let another 1/3 of the runners pass me. I shuffled along the road, which turned onto a trail. After a mile, we went downhill for a couple miles, then started the longest climb of the course - 4 miles of continuous climbing with about 2300 ft of ascent.
One thing I discovered in SMM after my legs were exhausted is that I could still make progress on the uphills by taking "baby steps". Basically, like shifting gears on a bike, increase my cadence but shorten the stride dramatically. This was consistent with some of the advice Sean gave Friday night (take short steps). We're in a long "conga line" on the climb, with not much passing going on. As I followed the person in front of me, I always tried to take shorter/quicker steps than they were.
I had also set a heart rate alarm on my watch for 143 bpm, which was lower than what I thought I needed to maintain an effort for 20+ hours. It would creep up over 143 on the climbs, but it was a great reminder to not get carried away. That one thing probably helped me maintain a conservative pace in the early hours of the race.
Of course, we're climbing in the dark. I opted to use my smaller/lighter headlamp for the beginning of the race. It worked okay. I figured we'd only be in the dark 90 minutes or so, and I didn't want to carry my big/bulky headlamp all day. I was glad when there was enough light that I no longer needed it. (My big, insanely bright headlamp was waiting for me in my mile-51 drop bag.)
Some of the advice I had seen on GDR suggested there weren't any runnable downhill sections in the first half of the race. I did not find that to be true. But I tend to run technical downhills more aggressively than other mid-pack runners like me. In fact, just about anyone will pass me on the uphills, but I'll fly past them on the downhills. That was key for me to stay on a finishing pace.
The first aid station, White Oak was at mile 8.1(ish) and I got there around 2:23. I had guessed 2:45, so I was ahead of the pace. But my estimated pace was based on almost no knowledge of the course - really just looking at the elevation profile and trying to come up with something. Still, it was encouraging. I had a laminated "cheat sheet" with notes on each section that I carried with me, so I (mostly) knew what was coming up.
I only spent about 4 minutes minutes at the first aid station - just enough time to refill my water bladder, grab some food. I walked out of the aid station, eating the food as I walked.
It was mostly downhill between AS1 and AS2, and I made pretty good time there. I rolled into Mulky Gap at 3:44, and again spent about 4 minutes there. I'm still about 15 minutes ahead of my estimated pace, and 36 minutes ahead of the cutoff time. Not bad!
At this point, I'm feeling GREAT. I have to keep reminding myself that the first 10ish miles always feel good. "Pride cometh before the fall" crossed my mind a few times, and I kept obeying the heart rate alarm on my watch. The "baby steps up the hill" strategy seemed to be working as far as saving my legs. And I was FLYING on the downhills. Anyone near me would pass on the uphills, but I would go zooming by later on the downhills.
GDR Tip: If you're not a strong climber (like me), get really good at running technical downhills. You can make up A LOT of time!
The next aid station is Skeenah Gap, where the cutest crew in the world (my lovely wife) would be waiting for me. The course does an short(ish) out-and-back to get to the aid station, then back to the trail. So you get to see some runners coming the other direction who have already left the aid station. It's also almost entirely downhill to the aid station, so you know you have a crapload of climbing to do as soon as you leave the aid station...
So I make it to Skeenah Gap (21.4 miles) right at 6 hours... About 30 minutes ahead of my estimated time. And Jaime is nowhere to be found. (I was super early after all.) So I go through the usual routine of refilling water, grabbing food, etc. I'm just about ready to leave and I see her walking up to the aid station. So I extended the stay a few more minutes, changed my shirt, and liberally applied some more 2Toms Sport Shield to the chafing-prone areas. Total time at Skeenah Gap was around 11 minutes.
Everything is still going great. I'm cruising along... Then suddenly I roll my left ankle - HARD. Hard enough that I'm a little worried. I keep moving, thinking I'll just walk/run it off. I also dig out 800mg of Ibuprofen and take it immediately. After a couple minutes, it seems to be okay. About a mile later, a roll it again. FUCK! Again, I keep going - and it seems to work itself out. A mile later - you guessed it, I roll it again. MOTHER FUCKER! I'm not even sure how I kept rolling it. The trail was not technical at all in that section. Perhaps I just got complacent. The gently rolling hills lulled me into a false sense of security. I'd have to pay more attention if I was going to make it to the end of the race!
So it couldn't have been more than another mile or two, and I trip - and I'm falling. But I had the presence of mind to execute a nearly flawless barrel roll and avoided injury (almost) completely. (I bumped my ankle a bit, but that's it.) A couple people not-too-far behind me witnessed it and seemed impressed. I even landed in a soft pile of leaves - if you have to fall, you can't get much luckier than that. Still, the sudden onset of rolling my ankle and tripping within such a short time was worrisome. Of course, I'm 7+ hours in at this point, so it's natural for one's attention to start to wander. I wasn't even listening to music (yet) - so I didn't even have that as an excuse.
The rest of the run to AS4 (Point Bravo) was fortunately uneventful. I got there at 7:49 - about 25 minutes ahead of my target time (71 minutes ahead of the cutoff). I had a drop bag waiting for me there. I was getting some "hot spots" on my feet, so I decided to sit down and changed my shoes and socks. (I had spares in my drop bag.) I also applied some more 2Toms to my feet while I had my socks off. After refilling water and grabbing food, I ended up spending 18 minutes there. A long but necessary stop. So when I left, I was about 53 minutes ahead of the cutoff.
GDR Tip: Take care of your feet! Blisters will slow you down a lot more than taking a few minutes to change your shoes & socks.
The next section was TOUGH! There is a huge climb to get to Sapling Gap. And by this time, my GPS is a little off, so I have no idea how much further away it is. To make matters worse, there was a point where I hadn't seen a course flag in a while, so I started wondering if I had made a wrong turn. Well, I didn't have to worry too long - several people caught up to me on the climb and said there was no other place to turn. And we spotted a flag not too long after that.
Then we finally arrived at the aid station. It's now 9:26 into the race. I see they have beer (Yuengling Light) and I drink one. I took a short pee break, and realized I couldn't remember the last time I went. The urine was pretty dark - indicating I was getting dehydrated. NOT GOOD. I would need to take care of that immediately. They had these mashed potato burritos there, and I grabbed one to eat on the go. I had been feeling a little rough when I got there, and stayed a little longer than I probably should have (12 minutes). But I did feel MUCH better when I left. I'm still about 52 minutes ahead of the cutoff - and pretty much right at what my estimated time was. So I'm slowing down a bit.
GDR Tip: Force yourself to drink. Set a 10-minute timer on your watch
so you don't forget.
While I felt much better after leaving Sapling Gap, it was getting more and more difficult to eat anything. My stomach just didn't feel right. It took forever to eat that stupid burrito, and it was fairly bland - so should have gone down pretty easy. In retrospect, I think the dehydration messed up my stomach and I never really recovered from that standpoint. I tried eating tums, pepto, even crystallized ginger - nothing would settle my stomach. Every now and then, I'd choke down some gel, but I was running a severe calorie deficit now.
I think it might have been in this section that I came across a couple runners, one of whom was lying on the ground. I stopped to see if they were okay. The guy on the ground, Rohan, said his hamstring was bothering him. I helped him stretch it out for a couple minutes (the other dude took off). After stretching, I dug some ibuprofen out of my pack - the last I had on me - and gave it to him. (I had more in my drop/crew bags, so not a big deal.) We started off running together, he dropped me of the first uphill. I zoomed past him later on a downhill. Maybe 30 minutes later, he passed me again on an uphill and I didn't see him again.
By the time I got to Long Creek, I was not having fun. I actually sat down and let a volunteer refill my hydration pack. I also drank some gatorade while I was there. NOTHING sounded good to eat. On a whim, I decided to try some ramen noodles. (Which, believe it or not, I had never eaten before then.) To my delight, I was actually able to eat them, and it settled my stomach a bit. I got there around 11:27, left around 11:40. So another 13 minutes... Now I'm 30 minutes BEHIND my estimated time. But I'm still 50 minutes ahead of the cutoff. I just need to keep moving. The early cutoffs are more aggressive, so I have a bit more buffer for the second half of the race. (Hard to believe I'm only halfway done at this point!) The ramen has given me some hope that I'll be able to finish despite the stomach issues. And there is less climbing in the second half - or so they tell me...
Next stop: Winding Stair aid station - the second crew-accessible aid station. So I'll get to see Jaime again. In fact, when I was at Long Creek, I had cell service and saw she sent a text saying she was already there.
While en-route, I was thinking about what a great decision I made to wear compression shorts. (A bit of a risk, since I hadn't done any training runs in them.) But here I was, 12+ hours into the race and no chafing issues. Well, that didn't last long. I certainly jinxed myself there because I started getting very uncomfortable. I thought I would just tough it out until the aid station, but eventually decided I better take care of it soon. Just like taking care of the feet, you have to be proactive on this stuff, so little annoyances don't turn into big problems. I had a 2Toms wipe that I tried using, as well as some Squirrels Nut Butter... Nothing seemed to help. So maybe after a mile or so, I decide the compression shorts have to go. (I had running shorts over them.) I'm on a gravel road at this point, with no one in-sight ahead or behind me. I could have gone into the woods, but instead opted to drop-trow right there in the middle of the road. I stuffed the compression shorts into my pack and kept going. Within another mile, I knew I had made the right choice. Things seems to be settling down chafing-wise...
The rest of the run to Winding Stair was uneventful. I got there around 13:06 - about 26 minutes behind schedule. I saw Jaime's chair, but not Jaime. I texted her, and got going with refilling water and seeing what food options there were. NO RAMEN! FUCK!! I grabbed a few pieces of quesadilla (or maybe grilled cheese). Jaime showed up, and I changed my shirt again. It was colder now, so I put in a short-sleeved shirt and a long-sleeved shirt. (More 2Toms in between.)
GDR Tip: Have clothes in your drop bags and/or crew bags. I'm sure that changing my shirts a few times helped me not to get chafed there...
I even put my jacket back on, it was so cold. I left around 13:28 - so this was a long 22-minute stop. You start running downhill immediately after leaving Winding Stair, and once I lost some elevation, the temperature rose a bit (the wind died down too.) So now I'm too warm. I unzip the jacket all the way, and unzip my long-sleeved shirt to cool down. It's a nice easy run from there to Jake Bull, with only a couple little climbs.
I arrive at Jake Bull just before sunset, which was nice. I hadn't needed to dig my headlamp out of my pack. It's 15:01 into the race, and I'm 51(ish) miles in. They have a bonfire going, so I sit down near it and go through my dropbag. I sweated quite a bit coming out of Winding Stair, so I changed my shirt again. I had a dry jacket in the bag as well, and my super-bright headlamp. So I swamped everything around, had some ramen and gatorade. Changed shoes & socks. Repacked the drop bag. Took a pee break, and got going. I left the aid station around 15:34. So over 30 minutes at that one! I'm still about an hour ahead of the cutoff, and it's (only) 20ish miles to the finish. So I'm pretty sure I'm going to finish now, although it's certainly not going to be easy.
I catch a couple women that left the same time I did. I can't recall their names - one was a runner, and the other was her pacer. I wasn't motivated to push the pace, and I figured there was safety in numbers, so I decided to hang around them for a while.
We eventually get to the on-road portion of the course heading up to Nimblewell. We stick together for a while but then the women stopped for a bit. I kept walking, thinking they would catch me. I'd look back occasionally and they were getting further and further back. I decided to just pick up the pace, since they'd be okay on their own. Another runner caught me - it was the early portion of the uphill climb to Nimblewell. While it wasn't steep, I was walking anything remotely uphill now. This was Michael (who I'd spend more time with later) and he asked what mile we were at, and how far away the aid station was. (His GPS watch ran out of battery.) I gave him what information I had, and he went on ahead. He was still about to jog the gentle uphill we were on. I kept walking.
A GDR sign appeared on the side of the road: "1 more mile and you'll be there!" Now, I was familiar enough with the course that I knew the aid station was much further than a mile away... I figured the race director was playing mind games with people now... Two more signs: "1/2 mile and you'll be there!" "1/4 mile and you'll be there!"
Then - you guessed it... A sign: "Congratulations! You are HERE! Now only 3 miles to go until the aid station!" If I hadn't known that was coming, that could have been seriously demoralizing.
Not far after than, I started hearing music. It certainly hadn't been 3 miles. I see a volunteer who tells me Death is ahead and he'll pose for pictures. Okay...
So the Grim Reaper offers the sweet release of death, and I say go for it. :-) He says just turn over my spike, and it'll all be over. Well, that's just crazy talk. Sorry - you can't have my spike, but let's take a picture. "Only" another 1.5 miles to the aid station. This part of the climb is a bit steeper, but not as steep as the climbs earlier in the race. I can walk with a fairly normal stride - no need to "baby step" up the hill.
I actually passed a few people on the climb, and made it to Nimblewell at 19 hours - midnight. I'm 70 minutes passed my predicted time. But I'm 90 minutes ahead of the cutoff. I did sit down for a few minutes. A volunteer refilled my water and got me some ramen noodles. (RAMEN IS LIFE.) Forced down some gatorade. And I figure I'm not going to feel any better at this point, so might as well get moving again. Only spent 9 minutes at Nimblewell.
You have a long downhill immediately out of Nimblewell, and my legs are surprisingly responsive enough to jog down it. I actually caught up to Michael on the flat. As soon as it turned (very slightly) uphill, I started walking. Michael tried to encourage me to run, but there was no way. I told him to go on, but he decided to stick around with me. We made pretty good time, and having someone there definitely lifted my spirits. Not enough to run anything that wasn't flat or downhill, but we started "power hiking" a bit.
We start doing the math to predict a finishing time, and figure it'll be somewhere between 22:00-22:30. Michael remarks that anything under 23 hours is a qualifying time for Western States, so that is some (minor) motivation to keep moving.
The race director listed the next checkpoint at mile 68. But my GPS was a little off, so we were unsure how much further we had to go. There was also a lot more climbing than I expected. Short but steep up-and-down sections, and the trail was fairly technical. But we kept power-hiking, and even passed a few people. Mile 68 came and went, 69, 70, 71... We descended a ridiculously bad trail that was strewn with boulders and busted-up cement (I think). Eventually, we passed the Visitor Center and knew we were in the final miles.
GDR infamously finishes with a ridiculous climb up 700 stairs to the top of a waterfall. Cruelly, this happens after you pass within sight of the finish line. What I didn't expect was some relatively steep paved paths that you climb before you even get to the stairs. I fell behind on those climbs, and didn't begrudge Michael for going ahead. I'm back in "baby-step up the path" mode now.
The stairs were miserable! But I vowed not to stop. The first section was 175 steps (according to the sign) and I briefly hoped that maybe the race director was messing with us when he said 700 stairs. Nope. There was another sign at the top of the first section. Another 475 steps to go. There were benches on many of the landings - so tempting to sit down and just rest a minute. But I kept going - SLOWLY. I see headlamps far above me, which is the only indication of how much higher the stairs go. One of the headlamps is Michael. There were probably another 5-6 people too.
I don't know how long it took to climb the stairs. Probably not that long. It could have been as much as 30 minutes. (Including the paved paths before the stairs.) Once you get to the top, you're on a paved downhill for about 1/3 mile before you get to a very technical trail that takes you down to the finish.
Amazingly, I can still run downhill. I catch up to, and pass, many of the people that were ahead of me (waaaay ahead of me) on the stairs. Just before I turned onto the trail, I caught up to Michael. I thought we might finish together, but I got ahead of him on the trail, and started running a little bit of the less-technical downhill parts. I passed 3 more people in the final section before I came out of the woods, plunged into the (shallow) creek, and climbed over the bank on the other side to the finish. Clock time: 22:17:47.
I dug the spike out of my pack and exchanged it for the "finisher's spike", which is the same except it is stamped with "Georgia Death Race" on it. A couple minutes later, Michael crossed the finish line and did the same.
Jaime didn't make it to the finish line in time to see me cross, but she pulled up in her Jeep a minute after Michael finished. So I collected my drop bags, got in the Jeep, and we went back to the room at the lodge. By this time, I am shivering ALOT.
Post race...
I was hungry but still nauseated after finishing. So when we got to the room, I just got cleaned up and went to bed. I cranked the heat up in the room and tried to warm up. It's about 4am by the time I get in the bed.
A couple hours later, I woke up ridiculously hot. I waddled to the bathroom to pee, turned down the thermostat, and went back to bed. Woke up a couple hours later (8am now) and couldn't fall asleep. I was so sore, it was hard to get comfortable enough to sleep. I turned on the tv and watched the news with the volume off (subtitles on) for about 30 minutes before I dozed off again.
We got up about 10:00. So I have at most maybe 5 hours of sleep post-race. (And only had 3 hours before the race.) We got cleaned up and hit the road around 11:00. Stopped for lunch at noon, and I had a huge cheesesteak sandwich that I couldn't finish. (Stomach still wasn't quite right.) But that was enough to knock me out when I got back in the car. I passed out and when I woke up we were already in North Carolina.
Sunday was absolutely miserable. I could barely walk. Everything hurt. Stomach still a little messed up, but eating better. Monday was about the same. Tuesday I finally started feeling human again. Wednesday I could walk fairly normally again. Thursday saw more improvement. Friday I actually felt pretty good!
I got a race reminder on Friday that there was a 12-hour trail race in a week and I thought "I'm recovering really quickly! I might sign up for that..." Well, today (Saturday) I did a 6-mile run, my first since GDR, and my legs were dead. So normal life is relatively pain free now, but I'm in no shape to run another race yet.
Final thoughts...
So, I'm really happy with the way the race went. I finished about an hour slower than what I predicted. But I had no real knowledge of the course, and had never done anything this difficult before. So I think I got pretty close, all things considered. And several things could have caused me not to finish at all: rolling the same ankle 3 times, not being able to eat much the second half of the race, getting dehydrated in the middle of the race... The dehydration thing bothers me the most - that's a rookie mistake and I should know better.
I feel like I compensated well for being a weak climber. I did a good job of keeping my heart rate low, like I planned. I had everything I needed in my drop bags and crew bags. So I was well-prepared in that regard.
I did spend MUCH more time at aid stations than I anticipated. I had "budgeted" 5 minutes per aid station, which only happened at the first two. Total, I spent just over 2 hours stopped at aid stations, instead of the "optimistic" 45 minutes I planned. So I can potentially make up some time by being more efficient in my stops.
The race is run really well, and has great volunteers. I will definitely do it again someday. Perhaps not next year - I may volunteer again and/or be a pacer for somebody. This might be an every-other-year event for me. But I would like to attempt it again with stronger legs, and 15 pounds less fat on me... :-)
The next race I'm signed up for is Wicked Grit 50k in July. Although I may sign up for the Veterans Memorial 150-mile race across Michigan, which is Memorial Day weekend. That one is super-flat, so it may play to my strengths more than a mountain race. I have 1 more week to decide before registration closes on that one. Stay tuned!
Race results: http://ultrasignup.com/results_event.aspx?did=48295#id1171850
Garmin data: https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2593937754
Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/1483850058
Back to the race - I start the second leg of the course about 20 minutes ahead of the cutoff. SoMo 50K has some pretty tight cutoffs, so you can't screw around. You need to keep moving, and can't take much time at the aid stations.
The next part of the course is another long climb, broken up into 3 parts. So a long climb, partial descent, another long climb, another partial descent, and another long climb. I leapfrogged a few people along the way, catching (or passing) them on the downhills, only to be passed again on the next climb. I did manage to stay in front of them on the 3rd part of the climb, even stopping for a picture at the top. (They had a guy taking pictures right before you got to the aid station.)
That last section is a real asskicker. There's a 500ft climb, over probably 1.5 miles, followed by a 500ft descent. That's the climb I remember from last year. At this point, I was about 3 miles from the finish and I thought it was flat the rest of the way. Then I hit the next climb - probably 600ft over 1.25 miles (so, steeper). It seemed to go on forever. About halfway up, I saw another guy in front of me, and I was slowly gaining on him. I caught him at the crest of the hill, and started running the downhill, leaving him behind.
Left - Saturday night after the race.
