April 5
Last year, my son, Nathan, and I ran a majority of the race
together. He finished his first 50-mile
race, and I was able to come in ahead of him.
Last year the temperature was very nice in the mid-50s. This year, the forecast says it will be warm
and humid with the temperature climbing into the high-70s, but the chance of
rain is low so the trail should be mostly mud free.
Mile
7.2 1:24:15 (11:42 avg./mile)
Centreville Road
The
race starts, and I set out on a brisk pace.
The temperature is close to 60 degrees with near 100 percent
humidity. Before the clouds thin out and
the temperature rises, I plan to run quickly to make hay while the sun isn’t
shining. Nathan hangs back a little, and
I wonder if he will catch back up to me.
My legs feel very good so far, and I begin thinking if this is going to
be a great day. It probably won’t
because of the warm temperatures, but so far, I feel great. No worries about Nathan as he catches up to
me as we approach the first aid station.
We are about six minutes slower on this section. I guess it isn’t going to be a personal
record setting day! I grab a PB&J
sandwich quarter and hurry through the aid station with Nathan right behind me.
Mile
9.7 26:34 (10:38 avg./mile) Bluebell
Loop
Nathan
and I run this section together with me in the lead. The bluebells are in full bloom! The fields of bluebells are
extraordinary. The field of runners this
year seems very quiet compared to some previous years. The overcast skies may be contributing to
this, but I am not sure. We get to the
aid station, and I click my watch as we say hi to the volunteers as we don’t
even break stride.
Mile
12.5 29:53 (10:40 avg./mile)
Centreville Road
I
let Nathan take the lead for this section, and we continue to roll along at a
nice comfortable pace. Unlike last year,
we didn’t have to get our feet wet at the one stream crossing. There were some strategically placed rocks
that allowed a runner to keep their feet mostly dry. However, there was one muddy section where my
left toe got a little damp. Kevin Sayers
is still here at the foot of the steps welcoming us back to Centreville
Road. So many things change, but one
thing remains constant—Kevin at this aid station. I grab a few Pringles this time as Nathan
stops to use the facilities.
Mile
17.6 1:03:59 (12:33 avg./mile) Hemlock
Overlook
Once
again, I have a little bit of a gap on Nathan.
I try to run quickly with a mind towards saving myself for the length of
this race. At some point, I twist my
left (good) ankle. It doesn’t hurt at
all and I thank my good fortunes that I avoided doing any damage (or so I
think). Nathan catches back up to me
near the end of this section. I managed
to keep my feet dry in the muddy section where I got a toe damp on the way out,
but at another point, I got the left foot wet again. All is good, but I can feel the ball of my
left foot warming up as my left sock is damp.
Martha is here at this aid station, but she doesn’t have my shoe
bag. Instead, I drink some chocolate
milk and CR02 and take a croissant to eat on the run.
Mile
21.9 1:05:32 (15:14 avg./mile) Bull Run
Marina
I get out of the aid station before Nathan, but he quickly catches up to me before I even get back down to the river. He passes me, and I decide to run conservatively to see how things shake out. I don’t want to overheat the ball of my left foot. I meet and chat with a few runners along the way, helping one of them from making a wrong turn. I come into this aid station and everyone is here—Martha, Amy, Gabby, Seb, Charlie, and Oliver. Amy says that Nathan is less than five minutes ahead of me. I sit down and change my shoes. The fresh socks and shoes feel great, and I am hopeful that I can run smoothly with the rising temperatures.
 |
| Charlie, Oliver, and Sebastian |
Mile
26.1 1:27:44 (20:53 avg./mile) Wolf Run
Shoals
Leaving
the Marina, I find myself running with two other runners. One of them ran the Western States 100 last
year. So, we spend a mile or two talking
about that. He had 64 tickets when he
got in. I ask where they stayed, and he
said Tahoe City as it is only about 15 minutes from the start and an hour and a
half from the finish. I ask him about
heat and altitude training, and he said he didn’t focus on those too much. He said it didn’t cool off much at night
although he was prepared with long-sleeve shirts in his drop bags. After my Western conversation diversion, I
let these two guys go as they are running up the hills and I prefer to power
hike. Then on the down hills, I am
passing them. So, we play leapfrog a
couple of times before my ankle starts complaining. By complaining, I mean the pain started at
4-5, and then all of a sudden, the pain pegs at 10. Okay, maybe I should walk more. Well walking is all I am able to do, and I am
now in extreme pain. Sometimes things
hurt because nothing else hurts worse.
In this case, the ankle hurts bad, and I don’t feel any pain anywhere
else, not because nothing else hurts, but because the left ankle REALLY
HURTS! Well, I guess I will take a
caffeine pill to see if that reduces the pain level. (I don’t carry any pain killers with me.) In 10-15 minutes, I feel the caffeine kick in
and the left ankle pain reduces to 9.5, for several minutes. But that lasts for about 10 minutes, and the
left ankle pain goes through the roof. I
can’t walk; I am hobbling just to move forward and get to the aid station. At the aid station, which is not accessible
by the crews, Quattro, Alex, and several other old friends are there. I sit down, and the pain doesn’t get any
better. After about 10 minutes, I switch
to a more comfortable chair and the pain stays pegged at 10. At some point, I get some elastic tape and
tape the ankle with the thought that compression on it will help. Nope, the pain stays pegged. I try to stand and think about hobbling the
2.8 miles to the next aid station. No,
that isn’t going to happen. The pain is
too intense. So, after close to an hour,
I decide to pull the plug on my race. I
borrow someone phone and call Martha. Of
course, she has never been to this aid station, so the guy with the phone has
to email her the directions as this aid station is literally in the middle of
nowhere and the road it is off of there are actually three versions of it.
Official
Finishing Time DNF
214 starters
(149 official finishers)
My ankle pain
remains pegged at 10 for the next several hours. Even after showering, eating lunch, and going
to the Marina aid station to see Nathan, I am unable to walk without limping. Fortunately, after 5-6 hours the pain lessens
enough to allow me to walk, almost normally with significant pain. We cheer Nathan through the last aid station,
and then drive to see his finish. He
ends up crossing the line in 12:02, which is good enough for 93rd
place.
Before the
ankle injury, I was planning on pacing James for one night on his FKT attempt
of the Pinhoti Trail. Now, my plans for
that are scrapped, but he should have plenty of support. So, my next race will be the Kettle Moraine
100 miler in June in Wisconsin. Until
then…
Never stop
running,
Darin
