Monday, December 10, 2012

Hellgate 100k 2012 – Hot times at the gates of hell


December 8

This race started nine years ago with 71 runners entered the first year and only 40 of us crossing the finish line.  I didn’t even hear about the race until about two weeks before and decided to enter as a good training run as I had yet to finish my first 100 miler.  Somewhere during that race, I realized that this was a tough challenge and that there would be some good runners who were behind me that would not finish.  However, finish I did with Tom Corris and Marty Lindemann close behind.  We were the last three finishers that first year in 2003.  After last year’s ninth edition of this special challenge, there were only six of us that have finished all nine.  Unfortunately, there are only five of us on the start line this year as Dan Lehmann has some health issues that prevented him from running since August.  So, now there will be only five of us if all of us can finish this year.

My own health became a factor this year when I tore my ACL in March skiing in Big Sky, MT.  Five weeks later on April 13, I had my right ACL reconstructed by patella auto graft.   That is, the surgeon took the center third section of my patella tendon and fashioned a new ACL tendon.  My recovery has gone well, but this will be my first ultra since last year’s Hellgate.  I hit most of my training goals, but my speed has been slower coming back.  If this race were just a question of whether I could cover 62+ miles, then I would be very confident in my ability to finish.  However, this is Hellgate where most mid-pack ultra runners have to fight to stay in front of the cut-offs.  I have to admit that I had some concerns on whether I could run the sections fast enough.  The advantage I had was that after nine times I knew nearly every bend, dip, and climb on the course.

Before the start keeping warm with the jacket
This year’s weather is the mildest in the history of this race.  This is only the third time that I haven’t worn tights for this usually bone-chilling cold race.  Today it feels like early fall.  I am wearing a couple of light weight shirts, shorts, and just a buff on my head.  I also have my Camelbak and headlamp, of course.  We all join together and sing the National Anthem, Horton says a prayer, someone else says a prayer for Horton as he will have open heart surgery on Monday, and then we are off.  Can I go 10 for 10?  We are about to find out.

Mile 3.5      41:40 (11:54 avg./mile) FSR 35

I am well rested and well fed.  I feel good and knowing that I might need every minute I can get, I keep the pace up for this first section.  In the process, I cover this first section about 40 seconds faster than I ever have and 3-4 minutes faster than my goal.  Without much rain this fall, the creek is very low, and two steps on rocks and I am across.  This is the first year that I don’t get my feet wet.  Maybe staying in front of the time cut-offs won’t be too hard, and I can have a smooth, quick race.  I grab a cup of water at this first aid station and without wasting any time, start heading up the mountain.

Mile 7.5      1:00:31 (15:08 avg./mile) Petites Gap

These four miles are all uphill, but the key is making good time.  This is done by running quite a bit of the first half before it gets too steep.  This is an enjoyable time as David Snipes, Beth Minnick, Kathleen Cusick, Rick Gray, and others are around me some of the climb.  This section is all on a gravel road, and the talk flows easy as we settle into our race.  As I approach the aid station and my wife Martha, who is crewing for me this year, I have to decide whether I am going to change my shoes and socks.  I had planned on doing so, but I also thought I would get my feet wet at the creek crossing.  However, I decide to change them anyway as I started the race with an older pair of shoes.  I drink some chocolate milk while changing my shoes and socks, and then take a bagel with me for the trail.  My time is right on schedule.

Mile 13.1    1:36:23 (17:13 avg./mile) Camping Gap

I run the technical downhill at the start of this section intelligently, but I still feel like I am making good time.  After the sharp downhill, there is another mile or so of rolling single track trail.  I love this section as I can usually get in a good groove, make good time, and start to pass some people.  I manage to pass some people and still feel very strong.  My right knee is doing okay.  A little bit of fog as crept onto the course, but fortunately we are not in it very long.  When the course dumps back out onto a gravel road, I know that I need to push it to the top.  I do okay as no one passes me.  My time to this aid station is a minute behind my goal, so I am still right where I need to be.  I eat a few sandwich quarters at the aid station and grab some cookies for the road.

Mile 21.9    2:39:58 (18:11 avg./mile) Headforemost Mountain

I head out of the aid station, planning to keep up my good pace.  About a half mile out of the Camping Gap aid station, Jason Bryant, the seventh seeded runner, is running back towards us.  He doesn’t look confused or anything so I assume he knows what he is doing.  Another runner that is heading the same direction that I am asks if we are heading the right way, and I assure him that we are.  The first half of this section is along a grassy road.  There are several runners in my vicinity most of the way.  I feel like I am making good time as all of us are moving about the same pace.  When the course turns off of the grassy road back to a single track trail, my legs are fine, but my right hip is starting to hurt on the climbs.  This is a new pain for me, but nothing that isn’t manageable at this point.  I manage to make my way down the rocky trail to Overstreet Falls, and then just one more climb to the aid station.  A couple of years ago, they moved the aid station forward to be closer to the Blue Ridge Parkway.  My time here is still from where the old aid station was.  I was hoping to do this section in 2:30 so I am not far off of that time, and I still made it by 5:58am—over 30 minutes ahead of the cut-off.  However, my legs aren’t feeling peppy anymore.  At the aid station, I drink two cups of chicken broth.  I over hear another runner telling her crew that she didn’t train well enough and you can’t fake it at Hellgate.  I feel like that applies to me, but I am going to see how much longer I can “fake it.”  The problem staring me in my face is that my large intestine is full and wants to be relieved.  An aid station worker offers me some toilet paper.  I take some and head on down the trail.

Mile 27.6    1:52:13 (19:41 avg./mile) Jennings Creek

I get out of the view of the aid station and start looking for the proper terrain and a log necessary to “take care of business.”  Now there are many methods to taking a dump in the woods, but I prefer to find the perfect log.  I spy a nice size log off to the left of the trail and make my way towards it.  It is a little large, so I will have to use the lean my back on it as opposed to the sit on it and hang off of it method.  Business is all complete in about five minutes, now I just have to start running again, downhill on a rocky trail.  Now, it feels like I am running okay, but three or four people pass me on the way down to the aid station so I am sure I am not going as fast as I think I am.  My time on this section is definitely slower than desired, but hopefully I won’t have to take any more dumps in the woods.  My time this year is actually my slowest ever on this section—not good.  Martha is at this aid station with my grilled ham and cheese.  I wash it down with some chocolate milk and then I am off to climb the next hill.

Mile 34.5    1:55:27 (16:44 avg./mile) Little Cove Mountain

I start up the first climb with the intention of getting back on pace.  There is one guy in front of me that I am trying to catch or at least stay with.  I keep him in sight for most of the first climb and then he is gone.  However, nobody passes me so I can’t be going too slowly.  After the climb, there is a little downhill on a gravel road, and then the course keeps going down on a single track trail.  Usually I really hammer this section, but my legs don’t seem to really want to move quickly at this point.  I am still running decent (I think), but it doesn’t feel like I am going very fast.  Then we the course comes out of the woods and back on a gravel road, Bob Hiltibridle is sitting in his truck.  His wife, Janice is one of the course sweepers, and I am guessing the Bob is waiting for the course sweepers.  My immediate thought is that I hope I am not that close to the back of the pack.  Then I think that the last thing I want is the course sweepers to be following me that closely.  When I finally get up to the aid station, I am really worried about the next cut-off at Bearwallow Gap.  That cut-off is 12:30pm, and I know from experience that getting there close to that wouldn’t be good at all.  It is 9:46am when I grab a cup of Coke and a cup of Ramen from Martha, don’t even sit down, and continue on.  I don’t like to start drinking Coke this early in a race with some much of the race left, but I feel like I don’t have a choice.

Mile 42.5    2:15:35 (16:57 avg./mile) Bearwallow Gap

I drink the cup of Coke before I even get all of the way out of the aid station.  Then I gulp down the Ramen while I walk the first quarter of a mile.  I am motivated to really push this section hard.  I want to get there before Noon.  I will accept anything earlier than 12:15pm, but for my psyche I need a little time cushion on the cut-off.  When the downhill begins, I start running.  When I get to the rolling grassy road part, the Coke and Ramen are starting to take effect as I am starting to feel a little better and maybe even a little faster.  By the time the grassy road ends, and I am back on a single track trail, I have finally caught up to someone in front of me.  I pick off three runners, and then put distance between them and me.  It has been 45 minutes since I left Little Cove Mountain.  In another 15 minutes, I see three more runners in front of me that I need to catch.  I pass all three, but the third, Al Eder hangs with me.  I hammer the down hills and make the turn up the hill to the devil trail right at 1:25 since leaving Little Cove.  Typically, it takes me 45 minutes from here to the aid station.  Al stays right behind me as we carefully pick our way through the devil trail where loose rocks are covering the trail and they are buried under a foot of leaves.  We enter the aid station right around 2:10 for this section, and four minutes before Noon.  I can now breathe a little easier and even allow myself to sit down while taking in some nourishment.  I drink about a pint of Conquest, and then another can of Coke.  I take a grilled ham and cheese with me as I leave the aid station, right behind Al.

Mile 49.5    1:51:35 (15:56 avg./mile) Bobblets Gap

Leaving the Bearwallow aid station, I am eating my grilled ham and cheese sandwich.  The course is mostly uphill, but there are a few short flat sections.  I walk these while Al and his pacer run them.  Consequently, they pull away from me quickly.  I know how to make time on this section and it involves running the downhill portions smooth and steady.  I eat my entire sandwich, and when the full climb is complete, I am ready to run the downhill portions.  I pass a few people and then before I get to the saddle point, a guy who I have seen before today comes back by me.  When I finally get off of the single track trail and onto the dirt road that is only a mile to the aid station, I do something I have never done in this race.  I run most of it into the aid station.  I have again hit my mark for what I needed.  I drink some Conquest and some chocolate milk, and then take another ham and cheese sandwich with me leaving the aid station.  It is 1:53pm, and if I can run the next section in a little over two hours, I will be golden.  I elect not to drink any Coke at this aid station.

Mile 56.1    2:21:25 (21:26 avg./mile) Day Creek


At Day Creek drinking a Coke
Running this forever section involves making quick time when you can.  This means running fairly quickly the 2.5 miles down the hill to start the section.  My legs aren’t there to run it very fast.  I don’t let myself walk any of it, but the road is washed out and very rocky.  It is difficult to make really good time if one isn’t running really well at this point.  I get back to the trail after the 2.5 miles in 37 minutes.  I would have liked to be at this point in 30 minutes.  As soon as I get on the single track trail, Ernesto comes by me, and I follow him most of the way to the top of the first climb.  This about kills me, but it is faster than I would have done it otherwise.  Now, I need to try to keep the momentum.  However, about an hour into this section, my right hip starts hurting me again.  It hasn’t hurt me since just after starting to drink Coke at Little Cove Mountain.  My hip is really killing me, and it is affecting me most when power hiking uphill.  So, I run slowly most of the gradual uphill parts of this section.  My time is not good, but fortunately, I had built up a little cushion on the two previous sections.  Martha has another can of Coke poured for me.  I drink that and take half of a bagel for the trail.  After a little debate, Martha convinces me to take my headlamp as it is 4:14pm when I leave, and it will be dark in less than an hour.

Mile 62.4    1:32:29 (14:41 avg./mile) FINISH

Soon after finishing
Contrary to what anyone else will tell you, this last section is the only section that is the length it is advertised by Horton.  The total length is 6.3 miles—2.8 miles to the Parkway, and then 3.5 miles down the other side to the finish.  This is important because when you get to the top you don’t think you only have 3 miles to the finish.  I have typically made it the 2.8 miles in a nice quick 40 minutes or less, but this year with my hip that doesn’t stop killing me until 30 minutes after I drank the Coke, it takes me 45:56.  Not bad, as I have just under an hour to get down the other side.  Now, if someone thought it was only 3 miles to the finish, you could walk this, and while someone fresh could walk 3.5 miles in an hour or less, most Hellgate runners at this point need to run some to get down the hill in less than hour.  Furthermore, I know that late in a race as tough as this one, the body has a way of not doing what you want it to do.  So, while the body is willing, I will take advantage of the situation.  I start running down the hill while a few other runners pause at the Parkway.  One runner joins me, and we make decent time for the first mile or so, until he decides to slow down.  I am thinking, optimistically, that I might be doing a 10 minute mile or so, but it takes me 26 minutes to get to the gate, which is about 1.5 miles from the finish and 2.0 miles from the Parkway.  So, I am actually doing 13 minute miles!  I continue my very pedestrian pace all the way to the finish where Horton is ecstatic to see that the fifth survivor/streaker has made it home—ten for ten at Hellgate—not bad, not bad, indeed.

Official Finishing Time          17:47:16

112th out of 139 starters (115 finishers under 18 hours)

This year really challenged me and hurt me in the end.  The limited training didn’t cost me so much in endurance, but rather in speed and quickness.  It seemed like I was pushing the entire time to stay under the cut-offs.  I would rather save the Coke until the last section or two, but this year I went to it early and it kept me in the race.  Although, I was in quite a bit of pain at the finish, I don’t think I hurt anything severely.  As I sit here two days later, my knees feel really good as do my thighs.  My calves are pretty tight, but they will be fine.  My right hip that gave me trouble during the race feels okay, mostly, and I think after several days of rest it should be okay.
Receiving the 10 time finisher award

This race wouldn’t exist without the vision and leadership of David Horton.  Today (Dec. 10) he had open-heart, seven by-pass surgery and my prayers go out for him.  I pray that the healing touch of Jesus will get him back on his feet quickly.  Finally, Martha was my expert, veteran crew person this year, and I deeply appreciated her help and support getting through this endeavor.  I don’t know why my streak at Hellgate means so much to me, but I am going to see how long I can keep this ride going.

Never stop running,
Darin

Saturday, August 25, 2012

First race after ACL reconstruction

August 25

It is 4:30am on a Saturday morning in late August.  It has been four and a half months since my right ACL was reconstructed by patella auto graft.  My recovery has gone very well with no setbacks.  Today, Amy (my 16 year old daughter) and I will run the Patrick Henry half marathon in Ashland, Virginia.  We ran 11 miles together a month ago, and then she asked if we could run the half marathon.  Not having any good reason not to, I consented but said it was only going to be a long training run.  Her cross country coach concurred with this.

So, I am lying in bed wide awake, anxious for my first race of any kind since last December.  I have only slept about five hours as my anxiousness is weighing heavily on me.  Questions/thoughts swirl around my head.  Will my knee give me any trouble?  How is my conditioning?  Finally, I am just plain excited to be in a race again, and I get to run it with my daughter.  Amy and I discussed pace on Thursday and decided that we should be able to hold at least 8:30/mile.

We leave the house a little after 5:30am.  The race starts promptly at 7:00am.

Mile 1         8:17

I am running as slow as I can stand.  Amy is ready to run faster as well, but I know we shouldn’t let ourselves get pulled out fast by the crowd of other runners.  The weather is relatively cool, around 68 degrees, overcast, and light rain.

Mile 2         8:18

Another smooth easy mile, as the crowd of runners begins to settle in.  We pass by the first water stop, not even thinking about taking any fluids.

Mile 3         8:17

Our pace is very smooth and comfortable.  We are now leaving the town limits of Ashland and heading into the country of Hanover County.

Mile 4         8:18

The second water stop of the race is manned by the PH Cross Country team.  Her coach kiddingly tells us to pick it up.  It is a huge motivation to see them all.

Mile 5         8:06

After getting cheered on by her teammates and coach, we increase the pace slightly.

Mile 6         7:59

Taking advantage of a slight downhill, we run our first sub-8:00 mile.  I think to myself, okay let’s see if we can hold this sub-8:00 pace for a few miles.  Amy looks good, and neither of us is really breathing hard yet.

Mile 7         7:55

Turning the corner onto Blanton Road, Amy takes a fall.  I think this was helped by a runner who took a cup of water and then proceeded to start walking in front of us, right at the turn.  Anyway, she quickly picks herself up and is no worse for wear.

Mile 8         7:22

After recovering from the fall, Amy is feeling frisky and pushes the pace.  I have two thoughts:  1) Is she ready to hold this faster pace, 2) Can I keep up if she does?

Mile 9         7:34

We settle back down to a more reasonable pace as we are still over four miles from the finish.  The rain is steady, but still light, and we are facing a slight headwind.  The crowd of runners has definitely spread out, and we have been steadily passing other runners since we picked up the pace.

Mile 10       7:37

Another nice hard mile, and now we can really start to stretch our legs.  I mention to Amy that the warm-up is over, and it is time to run.  She says that she isn’t sure she wants to run faster, and I say that is fine.  Then Amy picks up the pace.

Mile 11       6:52

Picks up the pace and starts really moving.  Of course, we are helped by a downhill, but still this is quick.  We pass Eric Winston, who is the dad of one of Amy’s teammates.

Mile 12       7:34

The 12th mile heads back uphill, and my legs don’t have the same strength that they did before my ACL injury.  Therefore, this 7:34 mile is my split.  Amy is about 30 seconds ahead of me as we start the last mile.

Mile 13       7:09

I have a decent kick at the end, and I feel great, except for the fact that my daughter has just dusted me in this race.


Official Finishing Time          1:41:51

144th out of 1,195 finishers, 22nd out of 126 Males, 40-44

Amy ends up finishing in 1:40:53, just under a minute ahead of me.  Considering she made that gap in the last two miles, I would say she had a good kick at the finish.  I believe her last mile was 6:33!  And, she finished 20th among all females, and first in her age group (F15-19).

My recovery race is now out of the way, and I have some serious mileage to put in over the next 3+ months before Hellgate in December.  Here’s hoping the recovery continues going well.

Never stop running,
Darin

Thursday, May 3, 2012

On the mill

Three days after surgery I have my first physical therapy (PT) appointment.  My physical therapist, Shelly, unwraps my leg, and we begin by moving the knee cap around a little to make sure there is still mobility there.  Then we do some electric stimulation of the muscles around the knee, particularly the inside portion of the thigh muscle just above the knee cap.  They are particularly focused on this muscle.  Lastly, I am asked to lift my knee to see how much the leg will bend.  Did I mention that my surgeon said I will be in a locked straight brace on my right leg for four weeks?  Of course, it came off first thing during PT, but now we are already trying to see how much I can bend it.  I think I manage about 15-20 degrees of flexion at this point.

The first week after the surgery is focused on swelling and pain management.  I also spend an hour or more each day doing the rehab exercises I have been assigned.  Most of these are straight leg lifts in various directions with just the leg.  Near the end of the second week, I am starting to get edgy.  However, I review the doctor’s rehab prescription and see that stationary bike riding is allowed after the second week if range of motion allows.  So, I email Shelly and ask her how much range of motion is necessary.  As I am up to about 80 degrees of flexion, she says I can probably do it now and says to go ahead and try it over the weekend and tell her how I did when I see her on Monday.

So, at two weeks and one day after the surgery, I attempt to pedal the stationary bike.  The first step is to raise the seat as high as possible while still being able to reach the pedals.  Then I carefully put the right foot on the pedal and attempt to slowly move the pedal around.  I quickly determine that while I thought the seat was as high as it could be, it couldn’t hurt to raise it up some more.  Then I repeat the process with trying to get the right foot through the top of the pedal cycle.  Before I manage to get the right pedal through one full cycle (with my foot on it), I adjust the seat higher two additional times.  Finally, with just my right heal on the pedal, and some discomfort in the thigh as the pedal comes through the top of the cycle or the point where my knee is flexed the most, I begin to rotate the pedal at a painfully slow cadence.  This first time out, I wouldn’t call this riding the exercise bike, but I do spend about 10 minutes moving the pedals around.

The next day, Sunday, I get back on the bike, and since the seat and bike are all perfectly adjusted, I start more quickly.  The thigh is a little more flexible, and someone might mistake what I am doing for actually pedaling a stationary bike.  I do this for a total of 15 minutes, but I don’t think I broke a sweat.  I was able to get the cadence up to 30 RPMs.  On Monday, I have another PT session, and Shelly is so impressed with my progress that she decides to start me on the treadmill—walking, that is, with anti-gravity assistance.  Getting into this machine is no small act, but then we set it up for 50% of my body weight on my legs, and I walk forward for eight minutes and then backwards for two minutes.  My pace is really slow at just two miles per hour, but that is faster than I have been hobbling around with the brace in the locked position.  At this point, I am still wearing the brace when I go out of the house, but that need is slowly fading for me.  I take it off to drive anyway.  I will likely put the brace on to go see the surgeon next Monday as he told me to wear it locked until then.

On Tuesday and Wednesday, I ride the bike again, this time for 20 and 30 minutes, respectively.  On both of these rides, I actually break a sweat, and during Wednesday’s pedaling, I get the RPMs to top out at 100.  On Thursday at PT, I do some exercises and then it is back onto “the mill.”  This time, Shelly says, okay let’s walk for five minutes at 50% body weight, and then reduce the body weight to 20%, speed it up, and try to slowly run.  So, after five minutes, I punch a few buttons on the machine, and I am running.  Shelly is surprised that I am not favoring my right leg at all.  It is a weird sensation running with only 20% of my body weight on my legs, but I will take it just one day shy of three weeks since the surgery.  After five minutes of running, I slow things back down, up the body weight, and walk for another five minutes.  Overall, it feels awesome—even if I only traveled a little less than a mile (with a lot of assistance).  The legs are a little tired, and there is a slight strain on the outside of my right hamstring muscle, but progress is being made.  7 months and 5 days until Hellgate—it sounds like an eternity, but I have a long way to go.

Never stop running,
Darin

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Going under the knife

It has been two and a half weeks since I restarted running on March 26.  I have run four to five times each week for a total of 55.5 miles.  Yesterday, I ran 8.5 miles with Amy as my final run before surgery.  The knee has been feeling good, but I haven't tested the knee without an ACL.  The only issue I felt while running was some tightness on the backside as my hamstring is compensating some, I guess.

My surgery is not going to be until at least 11am, so I don't have to be there until 9am.  Martha and I arrive at VCU just after 9am, and I only have to wait until 10am before I am called in to start getting prepped.  Surgery prep goes well until they begin to try to put in the IV.  Despite the fact that I have nice big veins near the surface of the skin, the first nurse goes 0 of 2 before giving up and getting another nurse.  She said I have really tough skin--go figure.  The relief nurse misses first in my left hand before striking successfully in the middle of my left arm.  By that point, the pain from the first three misses was much greater than the little sting of the successful one.  The rest of the prep is uneventful with two different doctors writing on my right knee.

I get wheeled towards surgery around 12:30pm.  The next thing I know I am coming to in recovery.  The first order of business is relieving the pressure in my bladder.  With that task completed, I ask for some ice chips.  Then they wheel me back to where I started in the morning before surgery.  Martha comes in, and she has some Fritos, which I slowly begin to eat.  I feel somewhat nauseous like I do after a hard ultra.  Of course, when in doubt, eat.  The surgeon took some really nice pictures of the inside of my knee.  Everything looks great just like the MRI showed.  There is also a picture of my new ACL, and it looks pretty.

After getting home, Amy made me a grilled ham and cheese, which just happens to be my favorite food during an ultra.  Nathan made some tomato soup, and I ate well for my first meal in nearly 24 hours.  Now, the recovery begins once the block on my leg wears off.  7 months and 25 days until Hellgate!

Never stop running,
Darin

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Who needs an ACL?

In all of my years of running, I have really never been injured.  Oh sure, there was the IT band issue when I tried to run my first marathon in 1991, and there was the plantar fasciitis that I fended off in 1998, but other than that and many twisted ankles, I have never stopped running for an injury.  And for everything except the IT band, all of my “injuries” didn’t stop me from running for more than a day or two.  This all changed on March 9 at 3:15pm, MT.

Darin coming off the first jump at Big Sky
March 9

My son, Nathan, daughter, Amy, and the three Willett kids (Joe, Emma, and John), and I are standing at the start of three massive jumps on the slopes at the Big Sky ski resort.  The boys and I have been doing these jumps all week, and we have less than an hour left in our week of skiing.  As we are standing there, Nathan says, “John you are up first this time.”  Before John can start though, I say, “Why can’t I be the director?” i.e., why can’t I go first this time?  I say this in jest, but Nathan says, “Okay, dad, go ahead.”  Now these jumps are rather big (see picture), but there is the bailout option in between each jump.  Usually I just do the first one, but I have done the first two a few times, and all three only once.  Only Nathan typically does all three.  The rest of us are just standing in his shadow, literally.  So, I drop into the first jump, hit the ramp, and fly into the air.  I maintain decent control in the air, but as my skis are landing on the snow, I hear the “pop” from my right knee.  The knee goes unstable, and I make the wise choice to bail out of trying to hold the landing.  On the ground, I realize immediately that my knee is not good.  It hurts for one, but the sound I heard was unmistakable.  I hadn’t heard that sound before, but it is exactly what I have read about from many other athletes.  If someone asked me right then what was wrong, I would have guessed that it was my ACL that gave way.

My first attempt to stand back up on my skis lasted about two seconds, and then I was back down on the snow.  My right knee is very unstable, and it hurts to put any weight on it.  The ski photographer nearby asks me if I need her to call ski patrol for me.  The thought of being strapped onto a sled and dragged to the clinic is enough to motivate me to try getting up again.  This time I only put weight on my left ski, and I manage to slide down the hill on just my left ski.  After taking my skis off, I find myself on the ground once again, but then I find that if I keep my right knee mostly bent, I can sort of hobble along.  I get myself to the room where Martha very quickly sizes me up and declares she is going to take me to the clinic.  I can’t argue with the need to go to the clinic so I get out of my ski gear somehow and into a pair of jeans.

At the clinic, the staff and doctor all look at my knee and guess that it is my left knee since it looks larger than my right.  I guess my knee hasn’t swollen any yet.  The doctor x-rays it to make certain nothing else is wrong, gives me a heavy-duty brace, and says I probably torn my ACL.  The brace allows me to walk with a nice limp, but no crutches are needed.  This allows me to get home on the plane the next day, although I did get extra attention from the security personnel.

March 26

It is now 17 days since the knee “popped.”  I have regained most of my range of motion in the right knee.  I can straighten it to a few degrees short of fully straight, and I can bend it about 120 degrees.  So, there is still range to be regained, but progress and healing is occurring.  Three days ago, I switched from the stationary bike to road walking.  I wasn’t sure how long or far I should or could go, but I went out and “blitzed” three miles in 47:30—less than 16 minutes per mile.  I was pleasantly surprised as I was expecting around 20 minutes per mile.  The next day, I walked three miles in 46:30.

This morning, I saw the orthopaedic surgeon to review the results of my MRI that I had last week.  Dr. Cheatham started by showing me the PCL, then the LCL, and lateral meniscus—they all looked great.  I was really excited to see I hadn’t hurt at least one of the menisci.  Then he showed me the medial meniscus, and it looked perfect.  He showed me the MCL and pointed to a little bit of strain that it appears to have received, but nothing that won’t heal up quickly on its own—definitely not a tear or anything.  Finally, he showed me the spot in the center of the knee where there is usually the ACL; however, there wasn’t much of anything in there.  He said he was sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but overall the news was very good.  I had managed to completely explode my ACL without any significant damage to anything else in the knee.  (This is unusual.)  We then discussed the wide range of options, including doing nothing, before finally I settled on using the middle third of my patella tendon to reconstruct the ACL.  My surgery is scheduled for April 13.  Please keep me and Dr. Cheatham in your prayers.  Before leaving, I ask the doctor about playing golf and light running.  (I knew better than to ask about playing ice hockey.)  He said he would hold off on golf due to the twisting involved, but then he looked at me like the crazy ultra runner that I am, and finally said that he guessed straight running on a smooth surface would be okay.

I came home from the doctor, ate lunch, did a couple hours of work, and then laced up the running shoes!  How far would I be able to run?  Better question, how far should I run?  Will the knee hurt?  If so, how much will it hurt?  How much pain should I tolerate?  With doubts (and a little fear) I walked the 400 or so feet to the end of our driveway.  I let a car pass, and then positioned myself on the left side of the road.  Here goes nothing.  I pushed start on my watch and lurched forward into a sort of shuffle.  After about 400 yards, I realized clenching my neck, shoulders, and hands wouldn’t keep my knee aligned, so I started to relax.  The amazing part is that there was no pain in the knee.  The muscles around my knee were firing away, but overall everything worked.  I hit the mile mark in 8:56, and decided to turn back to home—two miles would be enough today.  I finished in 17:27, and the elation I felt was huge.  This run confirmed everything the MRI showed.  There is no ACL, so I can run straight, but otherwise, the knee is intact.

I know there will be some difficult challenges ahead, both in the prehab before the surgery and the rehab after the surgery, but I am in good shape at this point.

Never stop running,
Darin