Showing posts with label Umstead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Umstead. Show all posts

Monday, December 22, 2014

Things of Which I am Proud...Pure Ultrarunning

Ran across these two belt buckles when I was going through my "junk" drawer:

Massanutten Mountain Trails 100 Miler 1998


Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run 2010

I get it, I'm bragging.  Nevertheless, I am pretty darn proud of these buckles.  

I have had the "pleasure" of cleaning out the personal effects of both my parents and an in-law.  It's not particularly fun.

So now, while I still breathe, I'm trying to figure out to which of the descendants each buckle will go, and bequeath the buckle while I am still here to enjoy the ceremony.  

My current plan: I'm waiting to see if any of them become runners....


Friday, February 21, 2014

I Awoke This Morning, Full of the Possible

I needed some inspiration today for getting back into the swing of Ultrarunning. 

The past 6 weeks have been fraught with health issues: a nasty case of bronchitis that took me down for 3 weeks, followed closely by a careless accident where I severed the last joint of my ring finger in my snowblower.  While one joint of a ring finger might not seem like much, it's been quite uncomfortable and is in fact a big deal.

I should note that I have been able to resume running...I was concerned that the act of running would induce a case of too-painful throbbing in my newly-truncated finger.  Actually, not a problem.

With that as a preface, today I stood in back of my minivan and took courage from this:



I splurged a couple years ago after the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run on this vanity plate.  And that's exactly what it is: a testament to my vanity at being able to run 100 miles.

It's not bragging if you can do it, right?


Monday, July 9, 2012

The Shirt off My Back...and Ultrarunning

For some odd reason, today I thought of some running gear that I gave away a couple years ago at the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run. I ran this race in 2010, and had the race of my life, clocking a 22:35, placing 56 of 133 finishers (yay, me!).

So I have some very fond memories of this race.  The format is eight 12.5 loops, so you pass the start/finish line every loop.  For me, this was not as psychologically difficult as one might think it would be.  Actually, I think the multi-loop format was easier on me mentally--I got to know the course, got more and more familiar with it each pass, knowing what to expect, etc.

As I was getting ready in my cabin before the race, one of my cabin mates swore and said he'd forgotten to pack gloves.  Now it was in the upper 30s as I recall, definitely glove weather.  I always overpack, so I tossed him a spare pair and told him he could get them back to me after the race when we were packing up.  As it turned out, I forget whether he or I finished first, but for whatever reason our paths did not cross afterwards, so my gloves went home with him.

After I finished and was collecting my drop bags, I saw a young guy--mid 20s--who still had another loop to go.  He was inside the large race HQ building, trying to gather his will and his gear to run the last 12.5 miles.  He was cold and was looking for his tights.  I don't recall if he didn't pack them intentionally, or forgot them.  Regardless, he needed a pair, and I had a spare unused pair in my bag. 

So I handed them over to him and told him good luck.  He asked how he'd get them back to me; given the situation, I knew it'd be tough to delay him further right then to exchange contact info, so I just told him it was no big deal, just keep the tights.

So a couple of my running things wound up elsewhere.  I hope they served well and continue to be part of a runner's gear, wherever they are.  The point of the story is not that I was a nice guy (although that's true!).  Rather, it's the spirit of camraderie that pervades this sport.  I have no doubt that if I were short some item, somebody there would have fixed me up.  It's just the nature of Ultrarunners.

 

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run Results

Some how my mental clock failed to register that the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Race has come and gone (31 March 2012).

Big time congrats to Mike Morton for his course record 13:11, and Traci Falbo, the women's winner in 17:02.  But moreover, congrats to all the men and women who trained and struggled and hopefully succeeded in whatever their particular quest was.

I have very fond memories of my 2010 finish and what an important event it was for me personally. 

Here is a great slide show of course pictures by Ben Dillon, as posted on the Umstead home page.  You really should check it out--this course has to be one of the most beautiful 100s in all the land.

How I missed it: I have my UltraList email feed set to Digest (meaning I get a more or less daily compilation of all emails sent that day, rather than live as they happen), plus in my Outlook I have all Ultra emails sent off to another folder so as not to clutter my inbox.  And I just had not checked that folder for the past week or so. 

This spring has been a big time of change for me with my retirement and reaching a big birthday.  My mind has been a bit less focused on Mister Tristan (the blog, not the 4 year old human being) than previously.  My commitment is to ensure that the blogging continues to proceed robustly, so stay tuned.

 

 

Monday, April 4, 2011

Congratulations, Umstead Runners!

Looks like preliminary results are up for the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run in Raleigh, NC, and I was pleased to see that my pacer from last year, Judy Holden, logged a 22:19!!!

That, my friends, is some mighty fine running, and now Judy is the proud and very deserving owner of a silver buckle, signifying a finish within 24 hours.

I am looking forward to hearing all the details.  Well done to all who ran!


 

Friday, April 1, 2011

Good Luck, Umstead Runners!


For those of you about to embark on your 100 mile adventure tomorrow at the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run, remember 2 things:

Relaxed and playful.

I'll be thinking about you all.  Maybe there's one of these in your future:



 

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Butterflies @ Umstead 100 Miler

Regarding the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run next weekend, a friend who is running is understandably a bit nervous.  It's hard to concentrate and be motivated for regular stuff, running seem not to be going well, and there are doubts, even fears, about sufficiency of training and tapering.

This is a big event, a stretch, because running 100 miles is a non-trivial activity.  Few people on the entire planet can do this.  But this runner is experienced and well-trained, and these feelings are completely normal.  It'd be abnormal NOT to have doubts and reservations at going for 100 miles for the first time.  And those feelings can be overpowering and even debilitating.

So here's what I emailed back.  Not that I'm THE expert (I've really only run 100 miles 3 times, to include Umstead in 2010) or anything, I'm just passing along some thoughts that might help.

I was pretty nervous the last few weeks prior to the race last year but can't really say there was fear per se. 

But I have had unreasonable but real fear.  A good analogy is when I went back to grad school and the first few days of class it seemed as though everyone else was young and sharp and what the heck was I even doing there?!  But then I said to myself, calm down, you've always done well in academia, this will be no different.  And it was OK after the initial shock but I did feel crazy with fear for about a week.  Anxious, sleepless, etc.

So...I get it that you're quite nervous. And fear is not an unreasonable response.  Everyone is different.

My words of wisdom are simply these--nobody is holding a gun to your head and forcing you to run.  This is a voluntary quest for excellence.  I think the best approach is simply to adopt a relaxed and playful attitude toward the run and let the chips fall where they may. 

It's not life or death, it's not a must-win situation, it's an optional activity that should be fun.  Meeting your goals would be nice, exceeding them would be better, but if you don't it's not the end of the world.

You're well trained, you're healthy, you are an experienced athlete, I'm sure you have a solid race plan figured out...so just remember, RELAXED AND PLAYFUL!

Regards/Gary
 

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Race in 2 Weeks!

I ran this race in 2010, but am not entered this year.  I will be there in spirit, and the race will never be far from my mind throughout that weekend.

The race is in 2 short weeks, on Saturday 2 April.  The training is done--or should be.  You can only screw things up now by training hard.  Your goal is just to keep your legs loose and uninjured, and your overall health OK, going into race day.

Finishing a 100 mile race is an accomplishment that puts you into a very elite group.  Back in 1998 when I finished my first 100 at Massanutten, VA, I once did the math: 


In 1997, less than 1000 separate individuals completed a 100 mile race in North America.  That's 1 out of 250,000 Americans (.0004%--4 ten thousandths of one percent--of the U.S. population), or even less if you add in the 30 million Canadians. 


The numbers are no doubt up now in 2011, but the principle remains: You are elite--keep repeating that! 

Program for success.  Don't even think "If I finish...", you can only say, "When I finish...."  You will experience some bad patches, but make a pact with yourself ahead of time that the only acceptable reason to drop is if continuing the race would cause injury.  If your knee hurts or your stomach is sick, but it's not the type of symptom that indicates further damage if you proceed, then you keep on going. 


You walk if you have to, but you keep moving forward at all costs.  And the symptoms will abate and the running will again get easier.  Seriously.  Some learned Ultrarunner--I forget who--once said "It never always keeps getting worse," meaning that at some point the difficulty will resolve and get easier.

All your hard work in training is about to bear fruit. You are elite! 


 

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Umstead--9 Weeks to Go!

Teleworking from home today, so I went out early for a short run (4 miles) from the house. I was thinking about the upcoming Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run in April, and my mind veered off into a discussion of time.

I am not running Umstead this year but am having flashbacks (positive, of course!) of my run there in 2010, basically to prove to myself that I could still run 100 miles. I was thinking, OK, it’s January, the race is still almost 3 months away, for anybody running in 2011 there’s still lots of time to complete your training.

But then I recalled that the race date was the first Saturday in April; i.e., 2011 race day is 2 April. That’s basically 2 months from now, not 3. And then I shifted times scales from months to weeks, and realized the race is only 9+ weeks out. For me, thinking in weeks always seems to bring more immediacy than thinking in months.

Perhaps this is because months--again, in my mind view—are just a bit more amorphous. Months have different durations and can start/end on any day of the week. You don’t have a structured, fixed set of weekends around which you build your long training runs. But weeks do: you go thru the 5 day workweek and then your weekend shows up, consisting of a Saturday and a Sunday, and you plan on how best to fit in the training run that you need that weekend.

In my mind, working backwards, if I were running this year, I’d be planning for 3 more long runs. These would be about 30-35 miles, three weeks apart, and ending three weeks prior to the race. Those dates work out to be 29 Jan, 18 Feb, and 11 March. As for the two weeks between the long runs--I’d be doing a 10 and a 15.

So…the entrants better be doing their last few long runs NOW. Good luck, my heart will be with you!

 

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Umstead Pace Chart

I ran Umstead in 2010.  Ran it pretty well, actually, in 22:35.  Here's a tip that may help you.

Based upon race director Blake Norwood's wonderful guide for first-timers at Umstead (see link "How to Train For and Run Your First 100 at the Umstead 100" on the race homepage, here), I planned for a finish of 28 hours (so I overachieved a little bit!).

I made the following pace chart up in small card format, laminated it, and carried it with me to consult during the race to try to stay on pace.

I never used it.  I just ran the first lap and it felt good, as did the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, etc., so I figured, why mess with success?  So it remained in my pocket until I cleaned out my gear after the race. 

But YOU might need it.  So hit the PRINT button, laminate it, and carry it along.  You may never even think about it...or, you may find it absolutely indispensable to your personal race management.  The point is, use ALL the resources at your command to maximize your chances for success. 

So--print it and carry it (or Blake's similar lap plan for a 23:30 finish)--it may make all the difference for you.


 

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Running a 100 Miler on Low-Mileage Training--Part 2

[This is a repeat of my post from 14 April 2010.  I am rerunning it since Umstead registration for 2011 just closed.]


This belt buckle is a symbol of my hard work to prepare for and successfully run the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run. It is silver, which represents a sub-24 hours finish (mine was 22:35, basically the race of my life).

It reads: 100 Miles—One Day. Every time I see it I secretly smile.

I know what is was like cleaning out my father’s and my mother’s personal effects after they passed. So many small treasures, of vast meaning to them, but of unknown significance to me. After I’m gone, I imagine that this belt buckle will not survive either—I know what it means, but probably no one else will know, I mean really know, what went into getting it. And that’s OK, it’s just the way it is.

Now, on to the promised analysis and context from yesterday’s post.

1. Annual mileage. My annual mileage has hovered in the 1200+ range for the past 10 years or so. The past 12 months were higher due to Umstead training, but 1200 is my long-term base. To prepare for Umstead, I began ramping up a bit in September 2009, at the time the application process opened. I did not get into the race immediately in the on-line entry process, but did snag slot # 51 on the waiting list. So I spent the fall and winter not knowing for sure if I’d gain entry to the race…but training as though I had. That represented a sort of mind game, but I mostly figured that the training would be for real. I learned at the end of January that I was in, so I had 2 months of "real" training prior to the race.

2. The monthly long run. I ran the JFK 50 Miler in November 2009. Then I planned to run a “long run” monthly (i.e., more or less a 30 miler) around the end of Dec , Jan, and Feb. In actuality my long run in Dec was only 13; in Jan I ran a 20, a 25, and a 30; and in Feb I ran another 25. Also I guess I should note that in March I did run an 18 miler with 3 weeks to go prior to the race. So you can see that I didn't really run a lot of heavy mileage.

Also I should say that this winter in southern PA was quite harsh compared to the fairly mild winters we’ve had the past several years. So getting out there for these long runs in the dead of winter, often pre-dawn, was rough. At the end of these long runs I was about done in, although I often think that our bodies are programmed to run the prescribed distance and then mentally shut down.

3. Normal runs. My other runs were two or three 6 milers at work at lunchtime. I definitely took planned days off before and after any long runs. So on a weekly basis I would run only 3 or 4 days.

4. Lighting. I made sure to run several times at night using my new Petzl MYO XP LED Headlamp. Having used it, I would be hard-pressed to go back to using a flashlight for anything other than backup only. The thing is BRIGHT and LONG-LASTING, big time. See my previous post on this topic, here.

5. Food. I've always had a steady stomach in races. At Umstead I would usually eat 3 quarter sandwiches at each aid station: PB+J, turkey + cheese; cheese. Maybe a cookie or two, but I didn't go much for the sweets this time. I did enjoy coffee at night.

I guess that's it. I should note that I've been running for 30 years, so maybe I've got that "muscle memory" thing going. Your mileage may vary, of course, but I think this proves that someone can successfully complete a 100 miler on little more than 100 miles a month, without spending their entire life in training.

When I ran the Massanutten 100 in 1998, my training regime was remarkably similar, so we have a least 2 valid data points from my experience.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Running a 100 Miler on Low-Mileage Training

[This is a repeat of my post of 13 April 2010.  I am rerunning it since Umstead registration for 2011 just closed]

I am proof that you don't have to run mega-mileage to be able to complete a 100 miler.

On 27 March 2010 I ran, and ran well, the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run as a 58 year old, placing 56th of 133 finishers in 22:35.

Bear with me, but here is the detail that some of you may want. If you wish, I can email you my Excel running log spreadsheet that's a bit easier of a display, at MisterTristanBlog@gmail.com

NOTE: This post will consist of the raw data...I'll provide some analysis and context in Wednesday's post.

Preceeding 12 monthly mileage totals and longest run:
Mar 09: 102/11
Apr 09: 106/21
May 09: 108/31 (Capon Valley 50K)
Jun 09: 101/18
Jul 09: 101/31
Aug 09: 103/15
Sep 09: 130/35
Oct 09: 105/28
Nov 09: 146/50 (JFK 50 Miler)
Dec 09: 116/13
Jan 10: 148/30
Feb 10: 121/25



TOTAL for preceeding 12 months: 1387

Monthly Average: 116

Weekly mileage detail for the 6 months prior to the race, Sep 2009 thru March 2010 (I consider my weeks to be from Monday thru Sunday):



Week of Sep 7: 10,6,6,6
Week of Sep 14: 6,35,6
Week of Sep 21: 6,6,7
Week of Sep 28: 6,6,10
Week of Oct 5: 6,8
Week of Oct 12: 28,6,6,11
Week of Oct 19: 6,6
Week of Oct 26: 6,6,5
Week of Nov 2: 24,6
Week of Nov 9: 12,5,6,10
Week of Nov 16: 6,6,4,50
Week of Nov 23: 6,6
Week of Nov 30: 6,10,10
Week of Dec 7: 6,6,6,13
Week of Dec 14: 8,6,6,5
Week of Dec 21: 6,6,12
Week of Dec 28: 10,5
Week of Jan 4: 6,6,20
Week of Jan 11: 6,6
Week of Jan 18: 25,6,6,10
Week of Jan 25: 6,10,6,30
Week of Feb 1: 6,6,6,11
Week of Feb 8: 6,5
Week of Feb 15: 20,6,6,12
Week of Feb 22: 6,6,25
Week of Mar 1: 6,6,6,10

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

An Old(er) Ultrarunner

Had the great fortune to visit Hannibal, MO this summer and do all the Mark Twain stuff.

He was a brilliant man:

(photo by Gary from the Mark Twain Museum)

At age 58, I concede that I am getting older, but do not consider myself old.  For example, when I think back upon earlier events, I never think "...when I was young..." but rather "...when I was younger...."

Subtle, but important, distinction.

See my previous Twain-related posts here and here.

Plus, this spring, I ran the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run and finished in the top half.  Still pretty proud of that one!

 

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Ultrarunning...and Possessions


I still love my Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run belt buckle. I wear it whenever I can, although in the summer it’s not quite as useful since I am not wearing jeans, and my shorts, depending on which pair, often call for another type of belt.

The buckle is silver, representing a sub-24 hour finish. It has enormous significance to me, as only I know what all went into earning it.

I remember cleaning out my mother’s personal effects after she passed, going carefully through her “treasures.” She was a frugal person and not given much to souvenirs or mementos, and so her collection of stuff was not particularly voluminous to go through.

I tried to be respectful and cognizant of why she had saved certain things until the end of her life, electing to keep particular items that would have meaning for her children (me and my brother), her grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren. Although she was born in 1925, her family “heirlooms” only started in 1945 with the end of World War II. See, my mother was German, and during the war, her home in Frankfurt had been bombed out, the family losing literally everything.

In fact, the night they were bombed out, my mother was wearing only pajamas. Usually her mother (my grandmother) had all 4 kids dress in their clothes overnight in case the British bombers came that night.  My grandfather was away on the Russian front.  But this particular night was overcast so my grandmother let the kids sleep in their pajamas, since she thought the bombers wouldn’t come.

But come they did. Somewhere up in the dark skies a British bombardier hit the switch, sending a bomb hurtling downwards into the city. Their apartment building was struck, and my mother’s family was buried alive in the basement bomb shelter under their collapsed building for 3 days until they were dug out.

That’s why I treasure what she did accumulate after the war, because she knew how ephemeral possessions are.

I wonder what will become of my Umstead buckle after I am gone.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Running a 100 Miler on Low-Mileage Training--Part 2

This belt buckle is a symbol of my hard work to prepare for and successfully run the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run. It is silver, which represents a sub-24 hours finish (mine was 22:35, basically the race of my life).


It reads:  100 Miles—One Day.  Every time I see it I secretly smile.

I know what is was like cleaning out my father’s and my mother’s personal effects after they passed. So many small treasures, of vast meaning to them, but of unknown significance to me. After I’m gone, I imagine that this belt buckle will not survive either—I know what it means, but probably no one else will know, I mean really know, what went into getting it. And that’s Ok, it’s just the way it is.

Now, on to the promised analysis and context from yesterday’s post.

1.  Annual mileage.  My annual mileage has hovered in the 1200+ range for the past 10 years or so. The past 12 months were higher due to Umstead training, but 1200 is my long-term base.  To prepare for Umstead, I began ramping up a bit in September 2009, at the time the application process opened. I did not get into the race immediately in the on-line entry process, but did snag slot # 51 on the waiting list. So I spent the fall and winter not knowing for sure if I’d gain entry to the race…but training as though I had. That represented a sort of mind game, but I mostly figured that the training would be for real.  I learned at the end of January that I was in, so I had 2 months of "real" training prior to the race.

2.  The monthly long run.  I ran the JFK 50 Miler in November 2009. Then I planned to run a “long run” monthly (i.e., more or less a 30 miler) around the end of Dec , Jan, and Feb. In actuality my long run in Dec was only 13; in Jan I ran a 20, a 25, and a 30; and in Feb I ran another 25. Also I guess I should note that in March I did run an 18 miler with 3 weeks to go prior to the race. So you can see that I didn't really run a lot of heavy mileage.

Also I should say that this winter in southern PA was quite harsh compared to the fairly mild winters we’ve had the past several years. So getting out there for these long runs in the dead of winter, often pre-dawn, was rough. At the end of these long runs I was about done in, although I often think that our bodies are programmed to run the prescribed distance and then mentally shut down.

3.  Normal runs.  My other runs were two or three 6 milers at work at lunchtime. I definitely took planned days off before and after any long runs.  So on a weekly basis I would run only 3 or 4 days.

4.  Lighting.  I made sure to run several times at night using my new Petzl MYO XP LED Headlamp. Having used it, I would be hard-pressed to go back to using a flashlight for anything other than backup only.  The thing is BRIGHT and LONG-LASTING, big time.  See my previous post on this topic, here.

5.  Food.  I've always had a steady stomach in races.  At Umstead I would usually eat 3 quarter sandwiches at each aid station: PB+J, turkey + cheese; cheese.  Maybe a cookie or two, but I didn't go much for the sweets this time.  I did enjoy coffee at night.

I guess that's it.  I should note that I've been running for 30 years, so maybe I've got that "muscle memory" thing going.  Your mileage may vary, of course, but I think this proves that someone can successfully complete a 100 miler on little more than 100 miles a month, without spending their entire life in training.

When I ran the Massanutten 100 in 1998, my training regime was remarkably similar, so we have a least 2 valid data points from my experience.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Running a 100 Miler on Low-Mileage Training


I am proof that you don't have to run mega-mileage to be able to complete a 100 miler.

On 27 March 2010 I ran, and ran well, the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run as a 58 year old, placing 56th of 133 finishers in 22:35.

Bear with me, but here is the detail that some of you may want.  If you wish, I can email you my Excel running log spreadsheet that's a bit easier of a display, at MisterTristanBlog@gmail.com

NOTE: This post will consist of the raw data...I'll provide some analysis and context in Wednesday's post.


Preceeding 12 monthly mileage totals and longest run:
Mar 09: 102/11
Apr 09: 106/21
May 09: 108/31 (Capon Valley 50K)
Jun 09: 101/18
Jul 09: 101/31
Aug 09: 103/15
Sep 09: 130/35
Oct 09: 105/28
Nov 09: 146/50 (JFK 50 Miler)
Dec 09: 116/13
Jan 10: 148/30
Feb 10: 121/25

TOTAL for preceeding 12 months: 1387
Monthly Average: 116


Weekly mileage detail for the 6 months prior to the race, Sep 2009 thru March 2010 (I consider my weeks to be from Monday thru Sunday):
Week of Sep 7: 10,6,6,6
Week of Sep 14: 6,35,6
Week of Sep 21: 6,6,7
Week of Sep 28: 6,6,10
Week of Oct 5: 6,8
Week of Oct 12: 28,6,6,11
Week of Oct 19: 6,6
Week of Oct 26: 6,6,5
Week of Nov 2: 24,6
Week of Nov 9: 12,5,6,10
Week of Nov 16: 6,6,4,50
Week of Nov 23: 6,6
Week of Nov 30: 6,10,10
Week of Dec 7: 6,6,6,13
Week of Dec 14: 8,6,6,5
Week of Dec 21: 6,6,12
Week of Dec 28: 10,5
Week of Jan 4: 6,6,20
Week of Jan 11: 6,6
Week of Jan 18: 25,6,6,10
Week of Jan 25: 6,10,6,30
Week of Feb 1: 6,6,6,11
Week of Feb 8: 6,5
Week of Feb 15: 20,6,6,12
Week of Feb 22: 6,6,25
Week of Mar 1: 6,6,6,10

Monday, April 5, 2010

"First" Run

Took the whole week off running since the 100 last Saturday. Went out today (Monday—I’m taking a long weekend!) for a slow and gentle 3 miler now that the blisters on the soles of my feet are not tender any more.

The run went fine, looking forward to rejoining my noontime running buddies out on the perimeter probably tomorrow for 6.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Official Umstead Results

Results are official.  It's hard for me to believe that one week ago I had just finished the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run.  Click on 2010 Results for all the nitty gritty detail.

Official results: I ran 22:35, placing 56th of 133 finishers.  Not bad for a 58 year old grandfather!

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Emotions and UltraRunning

I know I promised NOT to post anything more regarding the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run until results are posted on the web site--but I fibbed. After all, this blog purports to be about the "softer side of UltraRunning" so I'd be remiss if I did nothing but Chuck Norris posts, right?

UPDATE: I see that esults are now up!!

With that stirring introduction, I'd like to explore and share some of my emotions experienced during this 100 mile run. After all, I had plenty of time to think...22 hours and 36 minutes.

I think that many, if not most, UltraRunners experience some intense emotions during an ultra. Mine ranged from overt crying with real tears, thru choking up and being unable to speak, to peaceful going along with the moment, to outright euphoria.

I actually cried real tears as I crossed the finish line. It was the culmination of so many months and miles of hard work that finally paid off, and all those pent-up emotions came pouring out when the volunteer at the timing tent at the finish said "Well done!" and handed me my silver belt buckle (silver commemorating a sub-24 hour finish). I shook hands with my pacer, Rob, whom I did not know in advance, who had volunteered to pace anyone who wished a companion runner overnight. I was indeed lucky that he joined me for my last lap and I think that Rob also felt lucky to be part of my final lap (at least it added another dimension to pacing beyond just any lap of the course).

Earlier I had gotten choked up when I was telling the story to someone I was running with of my 6 year old granddaughter, Miss Doodybug, who had had a very rough landing during her birth. Among several problems, she had a hip dysplasia issue that necessitated a body cast being put on her, from armpits to toes, as soon as she came home from the neonatal ICU. This lasted some 3-4 months during which time we were not sure whether she'd ever even walk. The cast had a hole the size of your hand on Miss Doodybug's bottom into which a diaper could be stuffed, pad-like, to catch her waste. The cast was cut off and replaced every month or so as she grew.

Now Miss Doodybug not only walks, but runs normally. When they cut off her final cast, I kept one of the toe parts and attach it to my running pack for every race, for inspiration (note that at that time, it'd still be well over a year until we'd know if she could walk).

The cast reminds me NEVER to take my running for granted--it is a gift.


Also I got all choked up while running in Lap 6 with another pacer, Judy, when she shared the info that she was a left a widow by her healthy husband's unexpected death at age 53, and then again when we parted ways at the finish line with a hug. Her steady companionship truly anchored the middle of my run and enabled my strong finish.

Most of the time I was just cruising and enjoying the run. After all, what's not to like--running in the woods all day with 250 of my closest friends that I haven't yet met?

I did experience some feelings of euphoria during the late afternoon, shortly before sundown. I realized that I was running ahead of plan to the point that I was going to complete my 5th lap during daylight hours, leaving only 3 laps for the overnight.  Also that a finish was inevitable unless the wheels fell suddenly, completely and unexpectedly off**. As I was walking up the hill around mile 10.5 or so, just past the Sycamore Creek bridge, I suddenly felt supremely alive, vibrant, and full of the possible. I wanted to hug myself and leap and dance and stick my arms out like I was an airplane and shout just out of sheer exuberance.

Running ultras has so enriched my life, providing me a range of physical, mental, and emotional experiences far beyond what I would have experienced as a sedentary person.

**Note: it's interesting how your experiences affect what you think of as normal--UltraRunning truly gives you a different perception of distances and what's doable.  A measure of my insane confidence at this point was that I still had 36.5 miles to cover and felt like it was in the bag....

Like I said above, Miss Doodybug's cast reminds me to NEVER take running for granted--it is a gift.

Monday, March 29, 2010

Results: Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Race

The short version is that I ran the race of my life. Everything that could have gone well, not only went just well but went extraordinarily well. Everything that could have torpedoed me, didn’t.


Bottom line: a 22:35 finish….breaking 24 hours in a hundred is a big deal.

I never in my wildest dreams thought I could break 24. In fact it never was one of my “A” list goals. My only goal, seriously, was just to finish. Must have been my day, I guess. It netted me a silver belt buckle instead of the standard brass or bronze one.

Just went to the race web site but results are not yet posted. I was hoping to see official results because they were doing computer data entry as you checked in and out of the 2 aid stations along the course. I am particularly interested in how I did overall and in my age group, now that I officially turned 58 last week.

That’s it for now. I’m home nursing my tender feet. I do have a silver dollar sized blister on the bottom of each foot, not exactly on the ball of my foot but just a bit further to the front, behind the toes. That’s pretty painful now and I am limping and walking at a old man shuffle. I realized I had the blisters in Lap 6 of 8, but they didn’t feel squishy like draining would help (and that turned out to be true) so I decided to just run on thru it. Actually running was less discomfort than walking, so that may have been a contributing factor in my time.

More details later.