April 15
Significant science research has been focused on endurance. Much of it has investigated training,
including the taper before the goal race.
Carbohydrate loading has become universally accepted as key to an
optimal performance. Equally important
to fueling one’s body for an event is the proper amount of rest in the one to
three weeks before an event. Before I
read any of Jeff Galloway’s books, I thought rest of a few days, maybe even a
week, was more than sufficient. Over
time, I have learned that my body really prefers a three week taper. The very hard, long training runs take a toll
on the body. It takes time for the body
to fully recover and heal from the long runs.
I have been training hard this spring, along with playing hard as
well. The month of March started with
six straight days of skiing in Big Sky, Montana. A week later I was in the Blue Ridge
Mountains of Virginia training on Priest and Three Ridges. Two weeks after that I was in the mountains
of north Georgia pacing James at the Endurance Hunter 100 miler. James and I rambled in the dark, up and down
some steep trails for 11 hours and 37 miles in route to a fifth place finish
for him. Now two weeks after that, I am
toeing the line of the Bull Run Run 50 miler.
Are my legs rested? Not as much
as I usually like them to be. Am I
mentally rested? Nope, I worked on my
airplane Thursday afternoon for four and a half hours and two and a half more
hours on Friday morning before finishing and flying to Manassas airport.
On top of my less than ideal taper, the weather is forecasted to be a
little warm. The dew point is in the
60s, and the high is going to climb to the high 70s. I guess I will take this race easy and see
how it unfolds for me. The cut-off is
generous for a 50-miler at 13 hours.
This is my 14th time running this race. My fastest time was 9:07 in 2007, and my
slowest was 11:47 in 2019. Last year, I
ran 10:37 last year in almost perfect temperatures with the high reaching 53
degrees.
Mile
7.2 1:27:41 (12:11 avg./mile)
Centreville Road
This
year the course is the low water course.
Not only are the stream crossings low,
Strolling outbound
but the trail is dry and rock
hard. There will be no slipping and
sliding around this year unlike most episodes of this event. I pass Mike Campbell before we enter the
single track. Kari Brown says she is
going to take it easy this year, and she is true to her word and is well behind
me. Kevin is here at this first aid
station with his bull horn welcoming all of us.
I climb the steps, circle the road construction barrel, and descend back
down the steps to continue north. I
didn’t grab any food at this point, and I have plenty of water in my Camelbak.
Mile
9.7 28:42 (11:29 avg./mile) Bluebell
Loop
I settle into a steady, relaxed glide as I float along this very flat section. The field of 221 runners has spread out very well, and I find myself not in close vicinity of the other runners. I am now at the northern lollipop loop. It is time to head back south towards Hemlock. Again, I click my watch and keep on rolling, not pausing for anything at the aid station.
Mile
12.5 31:37 (11:17 avg./mile)
Centreville Road
It
is warm and humid, but there is also a breeze with only a few drops of rain
this morning. In these conditions, I am making
efficient time. I let my mind wander for
a second, and BAM! I catch my left toe and fall to the dirt. There are a couple of problems here. First, my left toe has been somewhat of a
problem since Big Sky. I have jammed it
several times and each time the pain is very intense! Don’t worry, it deadens out after several
minutes. The other problem is that I am
dusty and have a scrape on my right knee.
I dust myself off and resume my running pace, although it isn’t as
smooth as it was previously. Back at
this aid station, Kevin is still here with his bull horn. I grab a PB&J sandwich quarter and a few
potato chips.
Mile
17.6 1:09:13 (13:34 avg./mile) Hemlock
Overlook
As
the heat builds, I conscientiously back off of my pace. I remain steady in the
Alone with my thoughts
field, and I hear Kari
Brown behind me somewhere. As I make my
way back to the start/finish, I meet Lauris Trimble. She is running this race for her eighth
time. She is an Army officer, so her
finishes at this race are scattered from 2003 to last year. I am thinking that I can keep a smooth,
relaxed pace with Lauris. At the aid
station, I don’t need to change my shoes or socks as the trail is rock hard and
dry. This is most unusual compared to
many years when it is a mud fest, especially for the early miles. I grab two PB&J sandwich quarters and
walk up the hill to start the “back half.”
Mile
21.9 1:05:01 (15:07 avg./mile) Bull Run
Marina
Leaving
Hemlock, it feels measurably warmer. I
stay with Lauris most of this section as we chat away, but as we cross the
soccer fields, I let her go ahead as I am thinking and feeling like I need to
slow down some more. I kick another root
on this section with my left toe. I don’t
fall, so that is good, but the pain is intense nonetheless. At the aid station, I grab a pickle along
with a handful of potato chips as I walk through.
Mile
26.1 1:08:05 (16:13 avg./mile) Wolf Run
Shoals
The
heat continues to build, and I keep my pace smooth and slow. I kick another root with my left toe, and I
almost lose it coming down a hill.
However, I hang on and stay upright as the intense pain flows up my leg. I am running with Adam and Chris from
Westminster, Maryland when we meet a lady out walking on the trails. She says, 2 out of 3 is pretty good for
shirtless runners. Adam and Chris have
their shirts off at this point, and I am the odd one out in this group. I get into this aid station, and Alex and his
crew are doing a fantastic job as always.
I eat several strawberries and then move on as the heat is building, and
I don’t think I need to eat anything else at this point. I took salt tablets at three and six hours
into the race.
Mile
28.9 50:30 (18:02 avg./mile)
Fountainhead
My
pace continues to slow inversely proportional to the temperature. I am thinking that I just need to maintain a
reasonable rate to finish this thing.
Obviously, I am not going to set a personal best as my cumulative time
is already 6 hours and 40 minutes, and I am not too far past halfway. Amy, Edward, and Charlie are at this aid
station waiting for me. Charlie has a
sign that says, “Go G’pa Go!” It is
great to see them, but it only slightly distracts me from the heat. I take the shirt off, and they slather me
with sunscreen. I drink a little
chocolate milk before grabbing another PB&J sandwich quarter from the
table.
Shirt removed
Mile
32.9 1:11:29 (17:52 avg./mile) Do Loop
The
course this year is the “normal” course, meaning that we run the white trail
before heading towards the do loop. The
white trail is this curvy trail that goes nowhere for almost two miles. Then we get to head out to the do loop. At this point, there are many runners
returning that are a couple of hours ahead of me. I see Kathleen and many other runners heading
back in as I struggle to keep moving forward.
At the do loop, the scene is looking grim, but not quite yet a mash
unit. I eat two quesadilla quarters and
ensure my Camelbak is topped off before entering the do loop.
Mile
35.5 50:26 (19:24 avg./mile) Do Loop
I
am thinking that I need to keep running all of the downhills to stay in front
of the cut-off times. The start of the
do loop is mostly downhill to the river.
As I am running down the hill, my hamstrings decide they are going to
start cramping. I walk a little before
carefully running the rest of the way down the hill. At the river the course turns left and starts
a series of climbs followed by short downhill sections. The downhills are short, which is good as
they aren’t long enough for my legs to cramp again. At the old Ford Fairlane, there is a tribute
to Chris Scott, who passed away a couple of weeks ago. He was also one of a handful of guys that started
this race in the early 90s. When I get
back to the aid station, I have less than 30 minutes on the cut-off time, but I
can’t drop out here as my crew is at Fountainhead. I sit, eat a quesadilla quarter, and then
press on to the next stop.
Mile
37.9 44:44 (18:38 avg./mile)
Fountainhead
Leaving
the do loop aid station, at the bottom of the hill, there is a lady throwing
up. Several runners are standing around
offering various words of encouragement (what else can we do?). I, on the other hand, have nothing to offer
and pass quickly on the side. My
thinking is that if she is truly hurting, she could crawl back to the aid
station that is only a couple of hundred yards away. As I pass, all of the runners that were
standing around come to the same conclusion as me and proceed with the race. Many of these runners then pass and leave me
behind. I am struggling as I can’t push
any harder since my legs will lock up if I do.
As I approach the aid station, it looks like we might finally get a rain
shower that was forecasted. That would
be very welcome at this point. I see Amy
and Edward again; Charlie is asleep resting up for me. I put my shirt back on as I think it is going
to rain. I am clearly hurting, but I
decide to press on. I am 18 minutes
ahead of the cut-off time, but I am steadily losing ground.
Mile
40.6 50:20 (18:39 avg./mile) Wolf Run
Shoals
The
rain shower doesn’t actually grace my presence—it only spits a few drops of
water before going somewhere else. Kari
Brown catches me, and we chat briefly before she leaves me behind. She says, she told me that she was going to
take it easy today, but she also says that she only has 17 minutes on the
cut-off and doesn’t want to sweat the cut-offs any closer than this. Sean Andrish and his sister, Shannon, come by
me. I had seen them very early in the
race. There is also a pair of runners
who are mom and daughter. The daughter
is a fourth year at the Naval Academy, will be graduating in a couple of weeks,
and then going to flight school in Pensacola.
Unfortunately, I don’t get a chance to talk with them. I only overheard all of this information from
a distance. I manage to continue my
pedestrian pace into Wolf Run Shoals aid station. I get a few slugs of Coke in my collapsible
cup and also get a handful of potato chips.
As this is a non-crew aid station there isn’t a cut-off here, but I am
pretty sure I lost more ground.
Mile
44.8 1:10:43 (16:50 avg./mile) Bull Run
Marina
Shortly
after leaving Wolf Run Shoals, I make the strategic decision that I need to go
to the whip now. I have to get into the
next aid station before six o’clock. I
reach in my pack and fish out a caffeine pill.
I pop that and within 10 minutes or so the effects begin. I repass several runners and make excellent
time getting to the marina. I still have
to manage my pace to ensure my legs, which have been on the verge of totally
cramping for miles, do not fully lock up.
I power into the aid station with seven minutes to spare on the
cut-off. However, the cut-off is when I
need to leave the aid station, not arrive at it. Amy refills my Camelbak while Bob Gaylord
(helping at the aid station) helps me take my shoe off so that I can get a rock
out of it. In the process of doing that,
my right calf spasms and cramps, and my torso cramps while I am trying to get the
shoe all the way on and tied. I drink
two collapsible cups of Coke and leave the aid station with two minutes to
spare on the cut-off.
Mile
50.2 1:31:13 (16:54 avg./mile) FINISH
I
have five and a half miles and only 90 minutes to get it done. I have done this section as quickly as 1:02 in
2006 when Gary Knipling and I battle all the way to the finish, and I have done
it as slow as 1:32 in 2019 when I had over an hour to spare. I walked with purpose most of the way,
running when the terrain was conducive, i.e., downhill. The last runners I had sight of were around
the soccer fields. I am by myself for
the last two miles, but fortunately, I know the marks well. With a little over 15 minutes left, I pass
the Ed C. bench marking a mile to go.
Eddie passed away a few years ago, and he and I ran dozens of races
together. I push up the last hill as
quickly as I can. I walk across the
grass field as I can hear the crowd at the finish. When I get across the field, I run the last
quarter of a mile to the finish. As the
finish line comes in view, Amy is there pushing Charlie in the stroller. When I first see the finish clock it reads
12:59:xx. The crowd rises as one
cheering me on as I get in just in time.
Official
Finishing Time 12:59:44
137th
out of 217 starters (137 official finishers)
I would like
to say that it was never in doubt that I would finish, but I did a little soul searching at the Fountainhead aid station before deciding that I would press on
and try to finish. The last section was
total purpose and keeping my eye on the clock.
Could I have run more, I hope so, but I don’t know. In 1999, I finished the Hartford marathon
with a time of 3:10:44, which qualified me for Boston with only 15 seconds to spare. This had the exact same 15 seconds to
spare. This is my slowest finish at this
race by over an hour and 12 minutes.
Hanging out at the finish
In the end, I
am very satisfied at my effort, but not thrilled with my time. I sit at the finish for over 30 minutes,
sipping a little Coke, and receiving congratulations from many friends and
family. Edward walks over and retrieves
my rental car, driving it really close so I don’t have to walk very far. I get up, thank all of the volunteers that
are left, and manage to get into my car and drive back to my hotel. I now get to rest from racing until I run the
Mohican Trail 100 on June 3rd.
Yes, I am returning to the Mo for the first time since 2009. We will see what I can do. Until then…
Never stop
running,
Darin
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