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 12^th 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

144^th out of 1,195 finishers, 22^nd 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 20^th 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

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

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

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

Return to Darin’s Running Page.

More ski jumping pictures:

Darin coming in for a landing

Darin's good form in the air

Less than good form for Darin

Nathan on the third jump getting maximum hang time!

Joe Willett coming off a natural jump

Hellgate 100k 2011 – Another benign weather year

December 10

It is midnight, and I am standing in the woods at the start of the Hellgate 100k.  First, a few Canadians sing O’ Canada, and then most of us sing the Star Spangle Banner.  Finally, David Horton during a quick prayer asks God for His protection over all of us.  Then we are off running through the cold, dark woods trying to convince ourselves that since there are 136 other runners doing the same thing we aren’t all crazy.

This year, the rest of my immediate family is off running races of their own.  Martha and Amy are in Myrtle Beach where Amy will run in the USATF Junior Olympics National Cross Country race.  Nathan is in Hampton, Virginia where he is running in the first indoor track meet of the season.  So, without my normal crew for this race, I have recruited my oldest nephew, Zack, to be my crew for the weekend.  I hope I have everything lined up for him correctly as I had only a couple of hours to explain all of the things I might need at each aid station.

The weather is rather mild this year, and the temperature is in the 30s at the start.  I am wearing a thin pair of tights, long and short sleeve shirts, a hat, and gloves.  I feel good, and I think I might be able to run a personal best today, but I am going to let the race come to me by not forcing anything.

Mile 3.5      45:35 (13:01 avg./mile) FSR 35

These first few miles are called the prologue, and I get warmed up after the first mile or so.  I got chilled standing around at the start for 10-15 minutes, but it doesn’t take too long to get the blood moving to overcome that chill.  I run with Aaron Schwartzbard for the first quarter mile, and then of course, he moves on ahead.  Then after about 2.5 miles, Sophie Speidel and another woman come blasting past me.  They look like they are on a mission, and I think they actually are.  The water at the stream crossing is swift and almost knee deep.  We walk across carefully, and then trot into the first aid station.  This aid station has only water, and that would be only gallon jugs of water.  So, I grab a jug and take a swig.  I guess they forgot to buy cups.  My time is a little slow, but only by a couple of minutes.  Everything feels good except for my left hip extender.  It is a little crampy for some reason.  Oh well, it will likely quit hurting as soon as other body parts start hurting.

Mile 7.5      1:08:27 (17:07 avg./mile) Petites Gap

I run some of the road section early, and then I settle into a nice pace.  Many people go by me at this point, but that is fine as I will likely see many of them again.  My power walking at this point doesn’t feel fast at all, and it isn’t helped with the number of people going by me.  The night is crisp and clear, and I turn off my headlamp at a couple of points.  On this four mile climb, I can just feel the temperature dropping as we get higher.  It still isn’t cold, but it might be around freezing now.  The creek flowing beside the dirt road we are on is raging.  I wonder if the other stream crossings will be feet wetting experiences.  At this aid station, Zack is waiting with my shoes, a full Camelbak, a bagel, and my chocolate milk.  I get my shoes and socks changed, drink some of the chocolate milk, and take the bagel for the trail.  My time is my slowest ever on this section!

Mile 13.1    1:37:34 (17:25 avg./mile) Camping Gap

I am carrying a bagel as I start down the hill on the first part of this section.  My rhythm is okay, but not as quick as I am usually.  I pass a few people on the downhill section, and then I finish eating the bagel as the course shifts to an uphill climb.  When the trail heads downhill, I start rolling on one of my favorite parts of the race.  This is a nicely technical downhill trail in the dark.  I pass a couple of more runners before the trail dumps us out onto a dirt road that climbs us up into the aid station.  This wasn’t a great time for me on this section, but I am not in too bad of a position at this point.  I grab two sandwich quarters and a cup of soda that I think is Coke or Pepsi.  However, when I start to drink it, I realize it is Dr. Pepper, which I don’t care for.  So, I ditch that cup and grab a cup of Mountain Dew.

Mile 21.9    2:24:32 (16:25 avg./mile) Headforemost Mountain

As I leave Camping Gap, I find myself running with a guy with a last name of Murphy.  He is from Colorado and says he has a lot of hiking experience.  It is interesting talking with him, but we soon discover that I am running faster than him, and I push ahead.  However, Murphy will catch me again on a couple of uphill sections.  The grassy road section seems to go on forever, and I see a lot of different people along the way.  Bob Hagan catches up to me at one point, and Jay Finkle is also in the vicinity.  When I notice the second false turn to the left, I know that it isn’t far until we get off the grassy road and onto single track.  I get a little motivation going and leave most of the guys behind as I blast into the single track section.  I am working hard at this point, and it feels good.  I make my way down to Overstreet Falls, and then start the last climb up the mountain.  For the power hike up the mountain, I find myself beside Monique from Calgary.  She asks if I am the Darin that Horton gave some much grief to during the race briefing.  I am, but it is all good natured fun with Horton.  My time up to the mountain is very good, especially compared to what I have been getting so far today.  At the aid station, I get a bagel and a little chocolate milk from Zack before starting the trot down the hill.  The wind is up slightly, and it is cold, so I have no desire to stay on the mountain any longer than necessary.

Mile 27.6    1:37:45 (17:09 avg./mile) Jennings Creek

I run a lot coming down from Headforemost Mountain, but I never really get into a good groove.  When the trail switches to a rocky, technical section, I roll my right ankle for the first time in the race.  It not only takes my breath away for a few seconds, but it also wakes me up.  In addition, I no longer feel my left hip extender.  So, all in all, rolling my right ankle at this point is more good than bad.  A group of us runs down the grassy road section making pretty good time.  At the aid station, Zack is waiting with everything.  I grab some breakfast from the aid station.  They just filled a large cup with various things like quiche, pizza pockets, etc.  I drop off my headlamp, change out my hat, and leave my gloves.  Hopefully, it will warm up quickly.  My time is not bad, and I leave the aid station with Jay Finkle.

Mile 34.5    1:54:06 (16:32 avg./mile) Little Cove Mountain

Jay and I talk all the way up the hill on the climb out of Jennings Creek.  It is amazing how long you can know someone and still learn something new during a short conversation.  We make good time up the hill, and then he leaves me starting the downhill when I stop to empty my bladder.  However, I catch him again when the course goes back onto a single track trail.  This part is another one of my favorites because it is technical downhill that is very run-able.  When I get to the aid station, my loyal crew—Zack, has everything ready for me.  I suck down the Ramen as quick as possible, and then change my shoes.  I am still drinking copious amounts of chocolate milk.  The temperature is still cool, but I am glad I took off the gloves.  My hands are a little cold, but doing fine.  As I go to leave the aid station, I stop by the table to grab a cup of Coke or Dew; however, all they have left is half of a bottle of Dr. Pepper.  Dealing with disappointment is part of the adventure.  Again my time at this point is okay, but I definitely won’t be setting any personal records today.

Mile 42.5    2:18:54 (17:22 avg./mile) Bearwallow Gap

These next two sections are ones where I just have to stay focused and let the course come to me.  I roll through the grassy road section, walking the uphill sections and trotting down the other side.  When I get back on the single track, it is time to begin to push the pace.  It doesn’t feel like I am making great time, but then I make the turn into the devil trail before the 1:30 mark so I know I am not doing bad time wise.  I make it through the gnarly, rocky devil trail without damage, rock hop across the stream, and head into the aid station feeling good about where I am.  I have about 45 minutes on the cut-off, and maybe I will be able to get something going for the last third of the race.  Zack is again totally ready for me with a grilled ham and cheese sandwich and more chocolate milk.  Bob Hagan comes into the aid station while I am sitting down enjoying my sandwich.  I was thinking that he might want to run some together, but he isn’t ready to go when I get up, so I leave the aid station a little ahead of him.

Mile 49.5    1:56:02 (16:35 avg./mile) Bobblets Gap

Near the top of the climb out of Bearwallow, other runners start passing me.  This is not a good sign as this is starting to feel similar to last year.  However, once the uphill section is over, I manage to push the downhill reasonably well.  Somewhere along the way, Bob and Horacio Ruiz catch up to me.  However, I manage to keep at least Bob behind me as we make our way into the aid station.  My time isn’t bad, but I am not getting any surge.  At the aid station, I decide to get a shot of my Advair, and I also have Zack fetch me a can of Coke from the car as the aid station doesn’t have any, but they do have plenty of Dr. Pepper!

Mile 56.1    2:18:39 (21:00 avg./mile) Day Creek

I leave Bobblets Gap with Bob and two other runners, but they leave me behind on the downhill.  Rebekah Trittipoe is close behind me, but I manage to stay to stay in front of her for now.  After 2.5 miles on the dirt/gravel road, the course gets back on a single track trail.  My body just is not up for the first steep climb on this section.  It isn’t as bad as last year, but it isn’t good either.  Rebekah and another woman come by me first, and then shortly thereafter Bob and Horacio come back by me.  They say they missed the turn off the road onto the single track.  I would love to stay with them at this point, but I just don’t have it at this point in time.  I continue my slow trudge through this section.  Later in the section, Joe Galioto comes up to me and asks if the time cut-off at the last aid station is firm or not.  I tell him that I don’t think so as I left Day Creek the first year after that time.  Either way, I manage to cross all 13 streams on this section and get in just before 4:00pm.  Despite my relatively slow time, I am in a good mood because the last section is fun.  It is also the only section that is the distance that it is advertised.  Zack has two cups of Coke ready for me.  I drink those and eat some chips from the aid station.  I then tell Zack and Craig Penrose, who is crewing for Bob, to tell Horton that I left Day Creek at 4:01pm.

Mile 62.4    1:22:55 (13:10 avg./mile) FINISH

Last year on this section, my daughter, Amy, paced me.  As I was trying to ensure that she would get a good workout, I pushed this section faster than I ever had before.  However this year, I have no such motivation.  Also, I might have drunk a little too much Coke.  My stomach takes a little while to get over the sloshing feeling.  I start off pushing it hard and then back off just a bit.  I catch three other runners on my way to the Parkway, and my time is 44:32 for the 2.8 uphill miles.  This isn’t horrible, but it is much slower than last year when I blitzed it in 35 minutes with Amy.  On the hill down to the finish, I pass four more runners including Rebekah.  She is focused, but clearly hurting and just wants to get the race done.  I feel pretty decent as I savor all that the last 3.5 miles (the epilogue) has to offer.

Official Finishing Time          17:24:29

97^th out of 137 starters (110 finishers under 18 hours)

The finish is all fun as Horton makes a huge deal about this last of the streakers to finish.  He says I cut it a little close this year, but have nonetheless finished 9 or 9 Hellgates.  My time is not as good as I had hoped, but it is another finish.  I think my training was solid, but I might not have been as well rested as I should have been.

I missed catching Bob by three minutes, but we talk for quite a bit after the finish.  The finish at this race is very intimate and some would say, special.  Zack and I are both very sleepy, and we crash at a Wingate in Lexington.  Overall, I came and accomplished what I wanted which was another Hellgate finish.  The personal record will have to wait for another year.  We are also due for some good Hellgate weather next year.

Never stop running,

Darin

Leadville Trail 100

August 19

I am in Leadville, Colorado to run my one and only attempt at a 100 mile race this year.  I have been here since Monday, and it is now Friday.  Before Monday, I was in Colorado Springs since last Thursday.  This has given me nine days of altitude acclimation above 6,000 feet.  The interesting aspect is that my step acclimation was easier on my body.  I didn’t plan it this way; rather it was just how my schedule dictated things.  When the event in Colorado Springs was announced, I looked up the date for the Leadville 100 miler, and the two complimented each other well.  My acclimation in Colorado Springs went well, and I had a good round of golf on Sunday.  Monday’s flight up here to Leadville was interesting as I had never had my plane above 11,000 feet before then, and as Leadville is at 10,000 feet, I flew up to 12,000 feet.  All of the physiological effects that occurred in Colorado Springs re-occurred here in Leadville.  Nothing dramatic with the acclimation, but the thirst is present, and any climb or brisk walk will make the breathing hard.

I spent the week here mostly working, although I did play more golf on Tuesday.  I was disappointed as the course wasn’t very nice, and instead of being a long wide open course where I could just hit it long, the course was a tight, technical course with very small greens.  I ran Monday morning in Colorado Springs, and then I did a short run on Wednesday.  I know that most people will do some hiking, but I was busy tapering and resting.  I wanted to make sure I gave my body every opportunity to be well rested for this event.

Yesterday, Rick and Snipes arrived here in Leadville.  Rick is my crew for this race, and Snipes will be running his seventh 100 miler this year.  Leadville is the third race in the grand slam of 100 milers.  He couldn’t settle for just that, but had to add in the other two races for the great last race.  In addition, he ran Massanutten and will run Grindstone.  Then he found two more 100 milers that he needed to run so that he can get an even 10 in this year.  Whereas I have done a reasonable amount of acclimating, he is not doing much of any.  So, this may be an interesting case study as we are close in our ultra running speed, except for the fact that he has a lot more 100 mile experience than me.

Last night for dinner we went to a bar that was only one of two places in town that serves Buffalo wings.  We get there, and I order a dozen as I had tried them out the night before and deemed them acceptable.  Then Rick goes to order some, and the waitress says she needs to check to see how many they have this evening.  She reports they only have a dozen, so both Rick and Snipes order buffalo burgers.  Despite this, and the fact that I had to slather on about half a bottle of hot sauce in order to make the wings the proper spiciness, we enjoy our evening and end it with a few games of pool.  After eating and pool, we stop by to see some British friends of Snipes.  They are interesting characters, and the conversation is most engaging.

So, this brings us to today.  We had already checked into the race yesterday, but today we had to go to the mandatory runners briefing at 11am.  There was a mandatory crew briefing at Noon, but after the first hour in a hot, stuffy gym, we felt we could skip that.  It wasn’t like we would be missed amongst the other couple of thousand people there.  For dinner, we went to the only Italian restaurant in town at which I had made a reservation earlier in the week.  Because of the high demand for this restaurant, I had to make the reservation for 4pm.  Another runner, Justin gets into town today and will be sharing our room with us.  He joins us for dinner, and it turns out to be a nice place, and we all stuff ourselves.  Stuffing oneself at 10,000 feet is much easier than at lower elevations as your body apparently doesn’t want to divert any extra blood to the intestines.  After walking the length of town though, we decide we have enough room for an ice cream cone.  Then it is back to the room, and we turn the lights off around 8pm.

August 20

Justin and Snipes get introduced to the human buzz saw (aka, Rick), and we all get some sleep before Snipes alarm goes off at 2:10am.  My turn in the bathroom comes at 2:30am.  The body is working quickly this morning, and I am out quickly.  All three of us are ready to roll by about 3:10am, but as we are only five minutes from the start, we sit there for another 15 minutes before we can’t stand it anymore and load in the vehicle and drive to the start.

As we all have timing chips on our race number bibs, there is need to check in before the start.  Rick takes our picture and then we all start to mingle through the hoard to get into the middle of the pack.  I think all of Leadville is out here to cheer us on.  The gun goes off precisely at 4am, and our adventure begins.  Did I mention that this is all at 10,000 feet above sea level?

Mile 13.5    2:38:45 (11:46 avg./mile) May Queen

The first three miles are downhill out of town.  As soon as we leave the town limits, I take the first opportunity I see to relieve the pressure inside my bladder.  Snipes and Justin are now ahead of me, but I have 622 other runners to keep me company.  I am rolling along nice and easy and making good time—about 10 minutes per mile.  Just past the five mile mark, there is a short, steep uphill section that really makes me question my sanity for wanting to run this race.  If this little hill makes me breath really hard, what are the other hills going to do?  After the hill, we start our way around Turquoise Lake.  We are now on single track trail, but there are still 625 of us, and we haven’t spread out that much.  So, it is follow the line in front for most of the way.  There are a few occasions to pass, but not many.  Still, I am into this aid station in a nice time.  Rick is here waiting for me amongst the other 500 or so crews.  I drink a good bit of chocolate milk and take a bagel for the trail.  I leave my long sleeve shirt on for now as it is just getting daylight and hasn’t warmed up any.

Mile 23.5    2:22:16 (14:14 avg./mile) Outward Bound

Leaving May Queen campground, there is a nice uphill section—first on the Colorado trail and then on a jeep trail to the top of Sugarloaf Mountain.  Then we get to go downhill on a power line trail to a road that then leads us into this aid station.  My climb up Sugarloaf went well as I passed a few people.  It is nice and cool, and I am really enjoying the early morning air (what there is of it).  The trail over Sugarloaf tops out a little over 11,000 feet, so things aren’t too bad.  I leave this aid station at 9:01am, which puts me almost an hour ahead of the cut-offs.  At this aid station, I drink some more chocolate milk and then some Conquest.  I try to eat my grilled ham and cheese sandwich, but my stomach doesn’t want to let much food in very quickly.  So, after eating about half of it, I start on down the road with the other half in my hand.

Mile 29.1    1:29:35 (16:00 avg./mile) Half Pipe

Leaving the Outward Bound aid station, the course is on a paved road for a couple of miles.  Then we turn onto a dirt road, pass the tree line where there is an optional aid station for crews, and finally get back on a good trail.  On the dirt road section, I catch up to Snipes.  He is moving well, and we run and walk as we continue to move forward.  This section is slightly uphill most of the way.  This aid station is one where the crews are not allowed to go, so I grab a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwich quarters and head up the trail.  Snipes has a drop bag with a Yahoo chocolate drink and some gummies in it, but he is out of the aid station just behind me.

Mile 39.5    2:16:13 (13:06 avg./mile) Twin Lakes

Somewhere on the climb up from Half Pipe I left Snipes behind.  This was not an intentional act on my part, but as I neared the top of the climb, I looked back and he wasn’t behind me anymore.  Obviously, I am climbing well today, and I hope that Snipes lack of acclimation isn’t hurting him.  When I reach the top, it is then about 3.5 miles downhill to the aid station.  I run down the hill making great time and come into the town of Twin Lakes feeling good.  With all of the crews in this small town, it seems like the whole town is basically the aid station.  I went through the official check-in point and then continued on through town until I see Rick.  I sit down and eat a cup of Ramen, some hash browns, and chocolate milk.  I am not able to eat all of the hash browns as my stomach just doesn’t want to accept food really quickly.  The chocolate milk tastes great, but I also have to be careful to drink that slowly as well.  The Conquest on the other hand goes down easily.  It is 12:46pm when I leave this aid station, so I am 1:14 ahead of the cut-off time.

Mile 44.5    2:05:49 (25:10 avg./mile) Hope Pass

At some point before Twin Lakes it dawned on me that going up Hope Pass would be about the same as climbing Baldy Mountain at Philmont.  With the Scouts, I did that in 4.5 hours.  This time, I will be moving up the hill in a race, and then turning around and doing it again.  Well, I always wondered how fast I could go up Baldy by myself.  Now I get to find out.  The first mile out of Twin Lakes is flat over marshy land.  Then I make the river crossing and begin the climb.  The river crossing was nice with the water about knee deep.  I start the climb and figure I just need to breathe as deeply as I can.  This works for the first mile or so, but then the trail gets steeper, and the higher elevation starts to take its toll.  I pass a couple of people feeding the bushes with vomit.  Having only salt capsules to offer them, I keep trudging up and up.  Before I reach the tree line, here comes the leader bounding down the hill with a female pacer in tow.  When I finally reach the tree line, the aid station is in view.  My lungs are burning, and breathing harder than I have ever breathed in my life doesn’t seem to help much, although I don’t have a choice.  At this aid station, there are llamas around as they were used to haul all of the aid station supplies to this point.  Crews aren’t allowed here either.  I get some Ramen with instant potatoes and sit down to eat it.  I also eat another PB&J sandwich quarter and then decided that the top wasn’t getting any closer staying here in the aid station.

Mile 50.0    2:06:29 (23:00 avg./mile) Winfield

After leaving the Hope Pass aid station, I only had another 500 feet of climb to the top.  As soon as I crested the pass, I had to start running down the other side.  My legs feel surprisingly great considering the climb I just did, but then again my pace going up was limited by my lungs, so I don’t think I actually stressed my legs too much.  Each step down the mountain takes me closer to a lower elevation.  Mike Priddy, who was back with Snipes, catches me on the downhill, and we push each other all the way down to the road.  Mike had to ask a few runners to get out of our way, but otherwise, we only had to avoid the ever increasing number of return runners.  When I got down to the dirt road, I was told that it was about two miles to the aid station.  As the road was gently uphill, I elected to walk most of it into Winfield.  At the aid station, it is an absolute zoo!  Rick had to park about a half mile away, and just about every crew is here right now.  A third are trying to leave, a third are waiting for their runner, and the last third are trying to get in so they can park.  In addition to the crews that have been out here all day, there are also pacers that are waiting to start running with a runner.  I sit down and eat a grilled ham and cheese.  I try to wash it down with some chocolate milk, but it is slow going with the sandwich and chocolate milk.  However, I know that I need to get the calories into my body, so I take my time.  In between bites and chewing, I change my shoes and socks.  My original goal was to get to halfway by 4pm (or 12 hours), but it is almost 5pm when I finally get away from Winfield.  I tell Rick that I hope I will see him at Twin Lakes in less than 5 hours, but I have no idea how long it will take me to get back over Hope Pass.  I take my headlamp with me and initially take my Houdini jacket, but then decide to leave it at the crew vehicle.

Mile 55.5    2:30:46 (27:25 avg./mile) Hope Pass

I run all the way from Winfield back to the start of the climb.  It is a gentle downhill, and I don’t feel like I can waste it.  About 15 minutes out of Winfield, I see Snipes heading towards Winfield.  He says that he has no desire, whatsoever, to go back up Hope Pass.  I tell him that he has to as he is going for the Grand Slam.  I start the climb up Hope Pass not expecting to see many runners still coming down, but for the first half of the climb, there are numerous runners.  Most are walking down the hill as they know they won’t beat the cut-off at Winfield.  The climb is nice and steep, but I continue to trudge up to the pass.  Every other switchback, I stop for about 30 seconds so that my breathing and heart rate can drop below redline.  Halfway up to the pass, I can see the top and the runners ahead of me.  Everyone around me is working hard, but we are all hurting.  As I catch my breath at one of the switchbacks, I let four people behind me pass.  Two are runners, and two are pacers.  One of the pacers is struggling much more than either of the two runners.  My lungs are burning, and I cannot wait to get to the top.  Finally, I crest the pass, turn around, look back down at the poor runners behind me, and let out a huge yell!  It might not be all downhill from here, but I can see Turquoise Lake and the town.  I shuffle down to the aid station and begin to suck down some calories.  I get some more Ramen soup and eat a few sandwich quarters.

Mile 60.5    1:46:17 (21:15 avg./mile) Twin Lakes

I make decent time coming down from Hope Pass.  I only pass a couple of runners, and before I get to the flat portion, I have to turn on my headlamp.  Making my way across the river and through the marshlands is challenging in the dark, but I am motivated to stay in front of the cut-offs.  I get into the edge of town just after 9:00pm.  Rick is there and asks me what I want first, and I say that I want to change my shoes.  He says he forgot to put a dry pair in the bag to replace the ones I put on at Winfield.  However, I ask him to go back and get a pair as it will be 16 miles until I see him again at the Outward Bound aid station.  While I am waiting, I eat my oatmeal and bagel.  I dry my feet off, get my iPod all setup, and then wait for Rick.  It takes him about 10 minutes, but it is fine as I am resting and have a chance to eat all of the food nice and slowly.  I get my shoes and socks on and then I am off up through the rest of town and check into the aid station.  It is 9:16pm when I go through the aid station, so I am only 29 minutes ahead of the cut-off.  I hope that Snipes is moving well down the hill so that he gets through here before 9:45pm.

Mile 70.9    3:03:20 (17:38 avg./mile) Half Pipe

After getting my shoes on and filling my stomach again, I am ready to roll.  I climb out of the Twin Lakes aid station on a mission to gain some time on the cut-offs.  I climb the 3.5 miles up out of Twin Lakes in an hour.  I am feeling good, and I pass several other runners coming up the hill.  One of the pacers asked me if I was a runner as I was moving so well.  The only time I run with music is at night during a 100 mile race.  It helps me delay the onset of sleepiness.  It is a nice night.  We have avoided any storms.  I am by myself for several minutes at a time before I catch the next runner.  I also get caught by a runner or two, but I am passing more than pass me.  Before I get to the aid station, I get pretty tired.  I don’t have any time to spare and push through to the aid station.  At the aid station, there are a lot of runners and pacers sitting around.  I grab a couple of sandwich quarters, choke them down, and then get some soup.  I was starving getting in here and feel like I could eat some more, but I know that I can’t stay too long.  As I am leaving the aid station, Snipes is just getting there.  I tell him that I am sure he will catch up to me quickly, and he says he just has to grab a Yahoo drink from his drop bag.  It is 12:19am when I leave this aid station, and that gives me 56 minutes on the cut-off.  So, I have gained time, but I cannot relax.

Mile 76.5    2:13:11 (23:47 avg./mile) Outward Bound

In less than a half mile from the last aid station, Snipes catches up to me.  We spend several minutes comparing how things have gone since we last ran together earlier in the day.  After that I again start to get sleepy.  Snipes offers me some No-Doze (caffeine pills), and I take two of them.  They seem to work as I manage not to fall asleep on my feet.  We run and walk all the way to the Outward Bound aid station.  There is the long, paved road section on this part of the course, and we end up walking most of it as it is slightly uphill to the aid station.  When I get to the aid station, I go up and check in, and then visit the port-a-john.  I would rather not spend the time sitting down, but what am I supposed to do?  I guess the caffeine pills kept all of my systems awake.  Feeling much lighter, I go back to Rick and eat a cup of Ramen and a couple of hash browns, while washing it down with Coke and Conquest.  With my extended break, I leave the aid station at 2:32am, just 28 minutes ahead of the cut-off.  Apparently, whoever made these cut-off times expected us to run the whole way from Half Pipe.

Mile 86.5    3:26:08 (20:37 avg./mile) May Queen

Leaving Outward Bound, I begin to do the cut-off math in my head and realize that the last section doesn’t leave much time to finish in less than 30 hours.  So, Snipes and I are motivated to keep moving forward and hope that we still have enough to push it to the end.  We start the climb up Sugarloaf Mountain.  This will be our last climb of the race, and initially I am climbing a little better than Snipes.  However, it doesn’t take him long to get back in front of me and lead us up the hill.  While this climb is nothing like the climb up Hope Pass, it is getting late, and it has been a long time since my legs were fresh.  I stay with Snipes all the way to the top, but when we start to go down the other side; he is moving better than me.  I tell him to go ahead and not to wait for me as he needs to finish under the cut-off.  I also figure that I will catch up to him as soon as my legs get going.  I shuffle down the dirt road, and it isn’t until I get on the single track that I start to find my stride.  On the last two miles into the aid station, I pass several other runners.  I get into the aid station just as it is starting to become daylight.  Rick is there with a grilled ham and cheese sandwich.  I eat the whole thing, and then take the Coke with me.  I drink the Coke walking the next quarter of a mile.  I leave the aid station just before 6:00am, which is 30 minutes ahead of the cut-off time, and I have four hours to go 13.5 miles to the finish!

Mile 100     3:38:18 (16:10 avg./mile) FINISH

Now on fresh legs, walking four miles an hour on relatively flat ground takes some effort, but it is doable.  Add in that the trail around Turquoise Lake is very rolling and that I have been at this for 26 hours, and four miles per hour is hard.  As a matter of fact, three miles an hour is not a walk in the park.  I make good time coming around the lake.  At first I am passing many runners, but then a group of 4-5 runners comes by me.  Now it is just a matter of continuing to move forward.  After the lake portion, there is the steep, short downhill, and I run down it.  I can still run, but I don’t really know how much more I have left.  With three miles to go, the course begins the climb up to Leadville, and a lady named Kim passes me and is being paced by Roy Heger.  It is getting warm and the uphill seems to go on forever.  In addition, most all of the people cheering us on are congratulating us on finishing, but all I am thinking is that I can’t count my chickens before they are hatched.  I still have a good uphill portion left, and one never knows what will happen.  As I get into town, there is a little downhill and then uphill to the finish.  There are about five or six runners around me, and one of them starts talking about how great this is.  I agree with him, and then run to the finish.  I finish by myself, and the race officials hold up the tape for each and every runner to break.  I find out after I finish that Rick and Snipes were starting to worry about me finishing.

Official Finishing Time 29:37:07

302^nd out of 625 starters (347 finishers)

I was in very good shape coming into this race.  This spring my races have all gone well, and my body overall felt as good as it has in quite a few years.  I thought I had a chance to run a faster time at this race, but I didn’t have an appreciation of how difficult this race is.  The altitude is one thing, and then there is the fact that there are no easy 100 mile races.  This one was not easy, but I felt in control of the outcome most of the time.  Coming over Hope Pass the second time was the one point that I was not sure of the outcome.  I was close to the cut-offs, but I always felt like I could stay ahead of them.  The last section was a little stressful at first, but with five miles to go, I knew I had it.  Could I have finished with more time to spare?  Maybe, but that is easier to say after I finished.  Still, all in all, I enjoyed the race, am proud of my accomplishment, and don’t have plans to come back any time soon.

At the awards ceremony, Snipes talks with Kim.  She was around him coming back over Hope Pass.  She ended up finishing 12 minutes ahead of me.  When her name is announced, I find out that she is Kim Martin.  Kim Martin, that name sounds familiar.  Yes, I know her from the Mohican Trail 100 where she was a top female a few times.

My fall race schedule is empty as I will spend my weekends watching Nathan play football and Amy run cross country meets.  I plan to train hard for Hellgate in December, and I look forward to my ninth finish there.  My legs are good, but it is now a month later, and I can just now no longer feel the fatigue in my lungs.  Until December, take care and …

Never stop running,

Darin