Tales From the Perimeter: More on That DNF

Perimeter meaning the 6 mile patrol road inside the fence of the military installation on which I formerly worked, where some half a dozen of us comprise a pool of running “talent” and strive to show up for a noontime run a couple times a week if we can escape our desks. We share a lot and these guys are one of the core pillars of my sanity.

It's been far too long since I put up a Tales From the Perimeter post, but since I retired my running frequency with the group has plummeted.  At any rate, though, I'm sure our next run will feature my recent email to the group as a discussion topic:


Guys,

Must have been a Freudian slip, but I failed to provide results for the Ironmaster’s Challenge 50K this past Sunday that I ran with my buddy JS.  Web site is http://www.ironmasterschallenge.com 

JS ran quite well and was content to stick with me thru Mile 20.  He finished in a decent time, despite a slow start due to my drag.   

Mile 20 at about 5 1/2 hours is where I dropped out (DNF meaning, of course, Did Not Finish).  I had taken 3 hard falls—which is pretty uncharacteristic of me—and I just felt out of gas.  Totally.  The falls banged up various body parts, to include knee, elbow, hand, shoulder, ribs, and a pair of solid shots to the left side of my head (apparently I’m a "left-roller" when I bite the dust).  But mostly I was really gun-shy that the next fall when it inevitably happened would really bugger me up, so I figured it was time to bid adios to those happy trails.  It wasn’t safe and it just wasn’t fun anymore.

Not a stellar day in terms of results, but JS and I did spend some quality hours together.  Here on Thursday, my body still aches: slight limp due to the knee, and the side of my head is still tender to the touch.

A word to the wise: beware of under-training.  You can only pull a big performance--based solely upon long running history and muscle memory rather than good solid training--out of your butt up to a point.  A point that I have apparently passed in my running career, as my nine lives may now be exhausted.

So, that’s my race report.  Now let loose your replies, all of which will likely invoke the words “butt” and “wuss”…. (but remember, be nice, this is the part when you say, “Gary, great job, not many people can run 20 miles, blah blah blah”)

Regards/Gary

DNF

On Sunday, ran the Ironmaster's Challenge 50K on trails in and around Pine Grove Furnace State Park in south-central PA.

Pluses: beautiful area, trails, and weather.  Good running companion, my buddy JS, who chose to hang with me, though very much faster.

Took 3 hard falls in the first half of the race.  Unusual.

By the aid station just before Mile 20, I was spent.

Dropped out there.

That's my race report.  Will still wear the shirt and drink bean water from the mug.

The Difference Between a Runner and a Jogger...and Ultrarunning

I think it was the late Dr. George Sheehan, who played so large a part in the running boom of the 70s and 80s, who famously said "The difference between a runner and a jogger is a number."

Specifically a race number:

[image credit Gary]

Younger runners today would be well served by picking up and reading one of his books.  Your life might change, seriously.

Anyway, over the weekend I took Mister Tristan (the 7 year old human being, not the blog) to run his very first race.  It was a kids race, a 1K, but it came complete with all the swag to help get a kid motivated: T-shirt, finisher's ribbon, actual course timing and a finish line chute...and a number bib.

It was the number bib that made him feel as though he was a runner.

So now he is.  He wants to run again as soon as possible.

As for Ultrarunning, on my part, after the kids' race I ran a 5K with the adults, my first race in many months.  I can't tell  you how motivating and exciting it was.  Granted, I was old and slow, but for the first time in awhile I felt like a runner.  A runner.  It's been a very unmotivated 2015 for a variety of reasons.

Looking ahead now to find a suitable Ultra so I can run some trails, with a number bib pinned on me.

Flannery's Pub Half Marathon

This past weekend I ran a road half marathon with an old trail buddy, Jody.  We were running with his brother-in-law, whose pace was a tad slower, so the race for us was largely a leisurely stroll for 13 miles.

I must confess that it was a very fun day, in a race situation yet not feeling the need to press or accelerate.  We cracked the 2:30 barrier, which was a goal of brother-in-law.  And despite the slower pace (just over 11:00 per mile) , I managed to snag an age group trophy.

In all honesty, this was more a testament to the dearth of 60+ runners than to my speed, but I'll take it anyway with pride:

Finishers' medal plus 60-64 age group 3rd place trophy

The Outer Banks of NC...and Ultrarunning

The bride and I and the various heirs to our estate have been vacationing every year at the Outer Banks of North Carolina since 1976 (save for a single year that a baby was imminently due and travel was not advised).

When we were just there in Aug 2014, the Bodie Island Lighthouse, a National Park Service site, had been refurbished and was now reopened to the public for tours.

If you are adventuresome, you can walk to the top and get a great 360 degree view:

Or, look down the cool wrought iron spiral staircase that resembles the inside of a seashell:

The link to Ultrarunning is that there actually is a 100 miler along the Outer Banks in the spring, the Graveyard 100.  It's been held the past couple or 3 years, but seems fraught with weather-related difficulties.

The race always appealed to me but it's road rather than trail, and its early spring date (7 March 2015) never suited.  But I can still be intrigued by it....

For those interested in shorter distances, I see a 50K to be held on the Outer Banks on 2 May 2015.  Check out the OBX Ultramarathon here.

Ultrarunning Races

I have long been of the opinion that if day-to-day running is the meat and potatoes of the sport, then running a race is the dessert.

It's the fun time--and also the anxious time--when all the weeks of training and hard work are put to the test.  It's a day when the clock and the measuring wheel rule, and the truth will out.  You're either adequately prepared, or you will struggle...or worse.

Entering a race has an added benefit, one that I certainly need right now: motivation.  The day you send in that application,, you've officially pulled the trigger.  A threshold has been crossed that has an element of chance, of commitment, of magic.  A date has appeared on your calendar, a hard calendar entity, that now exists in the real world.

You must prepare, for in a sense you've burned a bridge--that of commitment--and there's no going back (of course you can bail, and I have, but by and large you are committed).  Which reminds me of some inspirational words I kept in mind from 2010, and posted about, when I was preparing for the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run:

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.

This is Something ANY of Us Would Do

Ran across this story a few days ago about a race in Dec 2012, and I thought, "Duh!"  Of course that's what any decent runner would do."

image credit Huffington Post

The Huffington Post article pointed me back to this article in the 18 Jan 2013 Vancouver Sun:

The story of long distance runner Iván Fernández Anaya may serve as a welcome antidote. The Spanish runner, who trains in the Basque capital of Vitoria-Gasteiz, has become something of a cult hero for a kind gesture that helped an opponent win a race.

Fernández Anaya was trailing behind Olympic bronze medallist Abel Mutai during a cross-country race in Burlada, Navarra. Mutai was leading comfortably until he pulled up 10 to 20 metres short of the finish line thinking the race was already over. Instead of passing Mutai, Fernández Anaya slowed down and told Mutai to keep running. Since they didn't speak a common language, the Basque runner gestured frantically at Mutai who went on to win the race.

"I didn't deserve to win it," Fernández Anaya told El País. "I did what I had to do. He was the rightful winner. He created a gap that I couldn't have closed if he hadn't made a mistake. As soon as I saw he was stopping, I knew I wasn't going to pass him."

Not to get all sentimental here, but it kinda warms the cockles of my heart.

Update on the Ironmaster's Trail Runs

Several weeks ago I posted here about running the Ironmaster's 25K at Pine Grove Furnace State Park in southcentral PA.

During the run a number of us went off course, so I never bothered checking the results.  Turns out, however, that ALL the 25K runners went off course--either by poor signage, or tampered-with signage, or runner error--with a net effect of a loss of perhaps 1K of distance.   

So....turns out that I did place second in my age group, and since we all screwed up, the results--though relative--do in fact count for something.

That something is my age group award, a Performance Race Visor by SweatVac (I have no financial interest).  It's a lightweight, washable, reflective visor and I will wear it proudly.  See, at my age you have to grab for all the accolades you can, when you can!

[image credit Gary]

Ironmaster's Trail Runs

[image credit Gary...more on this photo later]

On Sunday I did something I've never done: deliberately registered for and ran a 25K trail race instead of the 50K, in recognition of the fact that my training was insufficient to comfortably finish the 50K.  

In other words, where formerly I would have programmed for success and run "up" instead of running "down," I opted for the common sense version.  

The event was a series of simultaneous trails runs/walks (50K, 25K and 15K) at Pine Grove Furnace State Park in south-central PA, called the Ironmaster's Challenge.  See, this area was a major iron-making site in America's early days, triggered by a fortuitous combination of iron-bearing ore and plenty of trees for charcoal-making.

I must say that this race was great--I loved it and definitely will come back.  Lots of good people, superior post-race food and drink, and a fantastic location.  My advice for anyone in driving range: DO THIS RACE NEXT YEAR!

My general goal was simply to spend a pleasant morning running for about 4 hours in the woods.  Goal accomplished.  However...along the way--either by poor signage, or tampered-with signage, or runner error--the group of about 20 runners of whom I was a part, went off course on the 25K race.  We kept seeing 15K and 50K signage but none for our race, the 25K.  I've been "lost" on a trail before, but this was my first instance of being off-course and being so far past the last known point that it was smarter to proceed than to backtrack.  Net effect was a loss of perhaps 1K.  

I'm eagerly awaiting the results and any explanation from the RD.  But since I knew I was off course and probably ran short, I didn't even bother with checking the results board since I knew my time was tainted.

Which brings me to the photo above: this was taken along PA Rt 233 on the way to the race.  Little did I know how prophetic it would be, imagining that the 3 "babes in the woods" were actually rookie Ultrarunners.  Turns out the real story was infinitely more tragic: three murdered children 80 years ago.  Link here.

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?

Leaving a lasting Legacy...and Ultrarunning

On the evening of 19 February--channel surfing versus the Sochi Olympics--I watched a PBS show about Easter Island in the South Pacific.  You've all seen the images of the carved heads:

 

[image credit PBS]

Well, we as Ultrarunners have the very same motivation: to leave something of ourselves behind for our descendants.  Whether it's a 100 miler buckle or the tales of races raced, we all want to achieve some form of immortality.  As I get older I think the answer is not in physical objects--Easter Island monoliths or Umstead buckles--but rather in the stories, in the lore of our existence.

For example, I can see my grandchildren talking about how Pappy ran 100 mile races (maybe the tale would be accompanied by a belt buckle, maybe not), much like the descendants of the Easter Island heads would talk about their ancestors).  I tell them tales of the run, the details about eating, drinking, repetitive loops, running and spilling your guts to strangers on the trail, of sunrises and sunsets, of headlamps, of low spots and high points, of all the collected experience that is trail running.

Today, real world, as I talk to these grandbabies, I focus on the magic of the race, how the physical challenge--well trained for--offers an opportunity unique in modern life, to go to the edge and see what you are made of physically and mentally.  How the race tests you, how the struggle lifts you, how the challenge elevates you a level that everyday people never see in everyday life.

Ultrarunning is a means of compressing a lifetime into 30 hours: a dawn, a day, a night, and another dawn.  A block of time that transcends time, that compresses and boils down the human experience into a discrete event.

An event that will change you forever, that will offer you insights into the real stuff of which you are made.

And coming through that constructed event will alter your mind-set, will forever change the way in which you regard the world.  For those miles of foot placed after foot, of roots and rocks and water. of struggles and effortless cruising, will prove to you that you are indeed alive.

And that you are a hero, in some small way, but a hero nonetheless.

Commitment: Pulling the Trigger for a Major Event

Well, I have committed to run the 24 hour Sole Challenge on 24 May 2014.  My goal will be to get as close to 100 miles as I can over repeats of the 1.5 mile macadam path near Chambersburg, PA.

I will be there with my good running buddies Jody and Keith.

The year 2013 found me eating and drinking too much and exercising too little.  So, being a believer in the power of commitment, I've entered this 24 hour race to force myself to train hard over the next 5 months.

As always, whenever I think about inspiration I turn to other people who have already said something better, stronger, more succinctly, etc., and a quote attributed** to Goethe comes to mind, one that I once had posted on my desk:

Photo credit Rolf Hicker Photography

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.

**Note: the source I cite makes a strong case that Goethe is not actually the author of this quote. Regardless, the words are inspirational and I will take them to heart.

Fire on the Mountain: Lessons Learned

I ran the Fire on the Mountain 50K on Sunday.  As I posted earlier this week (here), I had some struggles in the race, so here in no particular order are some of my take-aways:

1. Don't drop unless continuing would create or exacerbate an injury.  In other words, if you can locomote forward, just keep doing it.  It doesn't always keep getting worse.  Were it not for my running companion, who encouraged me strongly (with an implied threat of bodily harm), I probably would have bailed at the half-way mark, when I was feeling quite low physically and mentally.  But I kept on going, and the second half actually was easier than the first.

2.  "Muscle Memory" is a poor theory on which to base running a race when you are seriously undertrained. 

3.  To me, the race ran long...meaning that each interval between aid stations felt much longer than expected.  Case in point: the first aid station was 5.5 miles in, but it felt like 7 or 8.  I chalk this up to simply running slower, as in the famous formula:

     distance = rate x time

And solving for time:

     time = distance/rate

Thus we see that over a fixed distance one's rate (pace) is the variable upon which elapsed time rests.  Or stated another way: Running slowly takes longer.  Duh.

4.  Despite being in the heart of a the vast near-wilderness that is western Maryland, I saw a grand total of zero vertebrate animals while running (except for runners and other humans).  No birds, no squirrels, no deer, no turkeys, no bear.  Nada.  Possible reason: the woods were too noisy and the critters vamoosed.  Conditions were dry with the trails covered by fallen leaves.  Also there was a 10 mph breeze out of the west, which also created some noise.

5.  Having a running companion is wonderful, especially if when you hit a rough patch.

6.  An iced vanilla frappe and a burger at the finish line tasted heavenly.

7.  I found myself a solidly back-of-the pack runner on Sunday, a position I am unfamiliar with. Most of my running career I've been a fairly successful recreational runner, usually finishing in the top third.  I gotta get used to being at that end of the pack, it's the new normal.

8.  This race did not have awards by age category (as most standard road races do), but if they did, I would have won the 60+ age group.  Go figure.

Yeah, It's "Only" a Marathon, but....

A close running buddy passed on this race announcement for Freedom's Run, a marathon on 12 October.

Why might you be interested?

Advertised as "26 miles through 4 national parks," the race starts in Harper's Ferry, runs upstream along the C+O Canal, through Antietam National Battlefield, and finishes at Shepherd University.

In short, it is FULL of history, both natural and man-made.  The parks it traverses are Harpers Ferry, the C+O Canal, Antietam National Battlefield, and the Potomac Heritage Trail.

Note that some of the JFK 50 Miler route along the C+O Canal is included. 

What's not to like?