Woodstock 50k--RR (first ultra)

Run Woodstock 50k, Saturday Sept. 26

Pre-Game: I felt like I was coming into this undertrained (big surprise, I'm a rookie, only been running 2.5 years), but I had confidence from a big peak week--87.5 miles in 9 days over the week of Labor Day culminating in a 23 miler two weeks prior to the event. Prior to the peak week, I'd been averaging around 30 miles per week in August, 25 per week in July, 20 per week in June. My build-up was probably too short & too quick, and my peak week was WAY too much considering what the previous three months had been like...but I did the vast majority of my miles slow, with many walk breaks, so I came into the event healthy & chomping at the bit after a sharp two-week taper of minimal mileage (around 10 miles each of those taper weeks). Still, unlike the Detroit Marathon in '08 (where I came in overconfident, went out too fast & blew up bad), I was coming into my first Ultra humble and scared, which was a good thing. Respect The Distance, I kept telling myself. I also felt like the fact that I'd trained on dirt roads, and not on Trails, might hurt me. It did, but not in the way I thought.

Race Day: I showed up at 6:30am, it was pitch dark out, got my bib & t-shirt, headed back to the car to prepare and get nervous. I reviewed my planned strategy of taking a walk break appx. every 5 minutes (which I ended up abandoning almost from the start), couple gulps of water every 15 minutes, and alternate Gu or Sport Beans every half hour. I was able to stick with my fueling/hydrating routine for pretty much the whole race, but in this Trail race I quickly remembered something I'd read online--walk the uphills, run the flats & downhills. The trail itself would determine when I'd be taking my walk breaks, not a watch. The course was very hilly, so I had plenty of chances to perfect this new technique.
About 30 of us took off at 7:30am, and I was almost immediately about 4th from last place. Good grief. Fortunately there were 3 people ahead of me that I soon joined and ran with for the first 10 miles of the race. Really nice people, 2 first timers (1 was a triathlete) and 1 'veteran' from Ohio who had done a 50k and 60k. I felt like I was going too fast trying to keep up with these folks, but talking to people helped motivate me & kept me moving, I felt good, and I figured if I blew up later in the race, so be it. Wouldn't be the first time! Surprisingly my golf upbringing helped me here; I channeled the days when as a young kid I would take these long, fast steps to quickly get up to the elevated greens on hilly courses. Walking these trail hills in the midst of running was a little different and would get me somewhat winded, but those long/fast walking steps were very effective.
At an aid station around 10 miles I left my group behind, thinking I would fly off for a little while, get tired and they would catch up...but this was where I really had the best part of my race. My legs were starting to get a little sore & fatigued, but they had a lot of strength to them and a couple times during this stretch I felt I was getting stronger as the day wore on. For the first time in my life, 3 hours passed and it wasn't an epic landmark, merely a ho-hum moment as I continued on. The course was beautiful; forests, lakes, leaves turning--only thing missing was Tim Allen talking about Pure Michigan. Miles 10 through 20 were epic; I flew, felt strong, knew this was going to be my day. My legs continued to get a little more sore, had one little temporary hot spot on the inner top of my ankle but that went away within a mile, had a minor tweak with my right knee that was only momentary. What I started to notice at this point was the fact that all of these downhills were destroying my quads--when thinking about my lack of training on trails I'd been more worried about poison ivy, turning an ankle or maybe falling off a cliff. This quad destruction was something my dirt road training didn't appear to prepare me well enough for. Still, at this point I felt great and was well past the halfway point.
Around miles 21-25 I started to fatigue a little, but by then I'd been running for five hours--uncharted territory, as I'd never run longer than 4 1/2 hours previously. I was surprised I didn't have a "bonk" point; I didn't hit the dreaded Wall at a certain spot; it was more of a gradual deterioration. I kept the Gu and water coming, and actually switched it up at this point by starting to walk the downhills (had to--quads shredded) & running at least the gentle uphills. Then, things started to go a little further south through miles 26-28. My zest for life was waning, my race-day excitement dying a little more with each new hill. A thought popped into my head: "This running shit's gettin' old". Still I was able to churn along at a good clip, regularly thinking that the more ground I cover, the sooner I'll be done. Miles 29-31 were Rocky Balboa time, where I was digging deep, pouring every ounce of my soul into each new stretch of trail, willing myself past a slower runner here, a walker there, essentially just running for my life. When I started to hear the music at the finish line I got a new excitement and pressed through the last 1/4 mile, knowing I had done it. I crossed the line in 6:43, hugged the paramedic at the finish line (she was the only female at the finish, I wasn't gonna hug a dude) and then had to make sure I didn't pass out as I received my medal for finishing third in my age group. Overall in the 50k I finished 21st out of 30.

Still feeling like I would pass out, I then made my way to the food tent (at the top of a hill, are you kidding me?!) and got a banana, Turkey pita and water. As I sat down to eat, completely dizzy & dazed, in absolute agony and exhausted like never before in my entire life, the Rolling Stones song "Gimme Shelter" started blaring through the speakers. I took a few bites, listened to this uncannily perfect anthem for my state of being, looked far off across Silver Lake, and thought to myself, "I'm an ultramarathon runner."