Race Reports
Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run
April 4-5, 2009
If you
really want to get to know somebody, train for an ultramarathon with them. I’ve
heard it said that the “long run” is a shared experience which leaves a person
open and vulnerable to truly share of themselves. It’s a time when friendships
are forged. I promise that my many shared 10+ hour long runs training for Umstead
has both strengthened prior friendships and helped create important new ones
for me. Dana Pasquale and BD Sechler became my best “suffer buddies” in
training for this ultramarathon. To quote Runner’s World writer, Christie Aschwanden,
a suffer buddy helps to “… push ourselves harder than any of us can manage on
our own. We run to suffer, because to suffer is to feel alive. Any fool can
push himself to pain, but it takes a suffer buddy at your side, or breathing
down your neck, to find out what your really capable of.”
Dana, Darryl, BD, and Theo Cotuna – “Smile! We need a good
‘before’ picture…”
And suffer
we did… through plenty of training miles and a prep race at Uwharrie Moutain
Run (40 Mile). I blame/credit BD with the idea to run Umstead. He brought it
up toward the latter middle of ’08 as we were increasing our miles to prepare
for the North Face 50K (in Washington, DC) and Triple Lakes 40 Miler (in
Greensboro). Since we were already ramping up, it seemed to make sense to just
keep going… at least at the time.
When you
live near the race course, you naturally train on the race course – Umstead.
Normal maintenance weekend runs consisted of 20-25 miles in Umstead. Once a
month, we’d plan a long run on the exact course loop (12.5 miles). It started
with a 3 loop run (38.5 miles in ~8:00) in Nov’08. Then a 4 loop run (50 miles
in 11:00) to start the Christmas holiday. Along the way we signed up for Uwharrie
Mountain Run (40 miler in 10:45) in early Feb’09 near Asheboro. That’s another
race report in itself – but suffices to say it was a bear of a run, Dana
sprained an ankle, we all pulled each other through a tough race, and really
gelled as a running “team”. (Note: I’d recommend that race in a heartbeat to all
brave souls – and it also offers both a 20 and 8 mile option, too. Start
running single track…). Our final long run at the beginning of Mar’09 was a 50
mile run that we started at 11:00 p.m. in Umstead and ran all night (total run
time 11:15) – because we needed to be prepared to run in a fatigued state in
the dark. Along the way, we practiced eating – which I know sounds really odd
– but it’s a critical component of ultra running. You need to know what sits
well on your stomach and how many calories your body requires to allow you to
keep pushing without hitting the wall and prematurely ending your run. I
learned a few lessons the hard way about what *didn’t* work for me. Of course,
of no less importance is practicing your hydration plan and your physical
maintenance plan (for keeping your feet and the rest of you happy for the long
haul). During some of our longest Umstead runs we also picked up the company
of some other runners, Theo Cotuna and Walt Robinson, who were also training
for the Umstead 100.
Dana, Darryl, Walt Robinson, Theo Cotuna & BD – At the
start of our 50 mile night run in Feb
The only way
I can describe the excitement of undertaking your first 100 miler is like that
can’t-sleep, all-thought-consuming feeling you get of undertaking your first
marathon – except it’s on steroids. Remember the anticipation (and worry)
before you undertook your first marathon? It’s a perfect way for any adrenaline
junkie to recapture that rush. And, as for putting a good dose of self-doubt
into the mix, imagine that you’d never gone farther in training than half the
distance of the actual race. So it goes without saying that I *didn’t* sleep the night before the race. I like a challenge, so no big deal that I’d
been awake 23 hours by the time the starting gun went off. I was just relieved
to be running, and it gave all that energy a positive direction.
The first
two laps were fun and uneventful. BD, Dana, and I ran our race plan right from
the start, which consisted of 3:1 intervals (run/walk) and walking all the uphills.
(Walking in an ultramarathon is not only expected, it’s encouraged! And one of
the three “rules” for newbies is “walk before you’re tired.”) Frankly, the
first two laps just sailed by and we seemed to churn out the miles at a fairly
fast rate. There were a few stops at aid stations to “eat before you’re
hungry” and “drink before you’re thirsty” (the other two rules), but we churned
out the first 25 miles without any fanfare. (Funny how you become jaded about
these things.)
The next two
laps started to warm up significantly, so at the start of Lap 3 I shed my long
sleeve T shirt. I also decided to change my shoes as part of my maintenance
plan to change the pressure points on my feet, and reduce hot spots and
potential for blistering. By now I was also applying some BioFreeze to knees
and muscles as a preventative measure. Easy enough – a quick change, something
to eat, and off we went. Again, Lap 3 was uneventful and we saw our running
partners from training – Walt Robinson and Theo Cotuna – along the course and
would leap frog with them every now and then. I think one of the funnier
moments along Lap 3 was when we were coming off Turkey Creek Trial onto Graylan
at mile 9 in the lap (mile 34 of the run). Sitting at the intersection of the
trails was Angela White cheering on the runners. When she saw us, she screamed
to us and ran over and hugged BD and me. Angela asked how everyone was doing
and we responded in turn. I guess Dana must have said that she must have been
experiencing some pinaformus pain, when Angela grabbed her, hiked up the leg of
Dana’s shorts and started vigorously working on the affected gluteal area.
Unfortunately, at the time, Dana was unaware that Angela is a licensed massage
therapist – and the look on her face was priceless. It was the bit of comic
relief needed (for me) at that time, and apparently it all worked out for Dana,
too! At the beginning of Lap 4, I changed socks, applied my BioFreeze, ate and
we set off again. We got out on the trail and it was going pretty much to plan
by now. We saw Theo just behind us as we were leaving the HQ aid station and
he looked good. We caught Walt along Reedy Creek and he stayed with us –
complaining a bit to me of the heat and a queasy stomach. It was pretty hot by
now (mid 70’s I heard later) – around mid afternoon (2:00 p.m.?) and my
hydration was not going exactly as expected. I felt OK, but I was bloated and
not adequately returning the fluid I was taking in. Walt suggested that Laps 4
and 5 would be the hottest of the day, and that we should consider backing off
the pace until night fell and the temperature cooled off. The suggestion made
sense to me and I watched BD and Dana run off into the distance somewhere along
Turkey Creek. Walt and I stayed together through the end of Lap 4 and came
into HQ aid station to find that we were about 9 minutes behind DB and Dana to
finish in the first 50 miles in 10:31 – nearly a full 30 minutes faster than
our best practice run. Dana was all smiles for having completed her first 50
miler - and who wouldn’t be after earning qualification status in the Western
States 100 (essentially the “Boston” of ultrarunning)? I was pleased for her –
and just a little envious that she was finished and I had another 50 miles to
cover. No time to dwell on that right now, though… only time to eat, get
through my maintenance plan and get back out on the course. I was still feeling
great because I realized that I had so much time left before the cutoff, that
finishing this race was achievable as long as I managed any problems
intelligently. (“You run the first 50 miles with your legs, and the second 50
miles with your head.”)
Lap 5 was
the start of a long four laps for me – only I didn’t realize it yet. BD, Walt,
and I started out on the lap together and it was clear that BD was feeling good
and not staying with Walt and me. He ran off into the distance within the
first couple miles. Walt and I ran our plan – much the same race strategy as
previously, but a quite a bit more judicious about what constituted a “hill” so
we added a lot more walking to this loop. Again, it was still quite warm on
this lap and by Mile 6 (just before Aid Station #2), Walt started really
feeling some ill effects of his queasy stomach. He seemed to eat well at the
aid station, but he surely wasn’t feeling well. I was worried about Walt’s
well-being until a couple hot spots on my feet caught my attention and began to
report that they were no longer hot spots but angry blisters. It was
unfortunate that the blisters were squarely on the front pads of each foot – so
I was simply going to have to deal with it as best I could over the next 40
miles. Walt and I pushed on to finish the lap and it didn’t take me terribly
long to calculate that my unspoken goal of finishing under 24 hours was quickly
becoming a pipe dream at this pace and considering my new challenges. As we
came into camp, I told Walt to go take care of his needs while I stopped into
the Red Cross cabin and get my feet fixed up. The Red Cross folks were very
nice and started dressing my blisters with second skin, bandages, and adhesive
tape. I lost quite a few minutes on this stop, but did learn a value lesson
from another runner who told me to hit the Red Cross on the way *out* of camp
and spend my time eating while they worked on my feet. Good advice. When they
finished, my feet felt much better, and I rush into the headquarters building to
change and eat. I surely wasn’t expecting what I found…
I ran to the
back of the HQ lodge to get to my gear bag, and found Walt already changed and
seated at one of the tables. I started my routine and started talking to Walt…
Darryl: “How you feeling Walt? Stomach any better?”
Walt: “I feel kinda queasy.” (blank stare ahead)
Darryl: “Think you’re gonna be sick?”
Walt: “I think I’m going to black out…” (lays head on
table)
Walt now had
my full attention. I grabbed the first official-looking person (Rhonda
Hampton) in the lodge and asked for help. Rhonda came running over with some
soup and ginger ale to get into Walt. He sipped a bit of the soda while Rhonda
grabbed a foam mattress so Walt could lie down. I helped Walt down onto the
mattress and he sprawled out – his race over after 62.5 miles. Since BD was
now at least 30 minutes ahead of me (probably more…) and I was running on bum
wheels, I was looking at the prospect of some long, lonely night laps. That
wasn’t part of my original race plan – but not a reason to stop – so I finished
up getting ready to go out for my next lap. Just as I was ready to head out
the door, Rhonda asked me if I had a pacer or would I like one? You bet I
would!! Rhonda assigned me Lisa Howell as a pacer.
A wonderful Red Cross volunteer patching up my aching dogs
to get me ready for the last lap.
Lisa was a
great pacer – she chattered and kept my mind off the next 25 miles (or ~ 7.5
hours) through the middle of the night. We talked about politics, the economy,
wine and especially running – although we didn’t do much running. In order to
conserve my feet, I slipped into power walking most of the course. I may have
run small sections of the significant downhills, but it was pretty painful to
do so and I only served to rapidly destroy the efforts of the Red Cross folks
when I did. That aside, they politely continued to redress my feet between
each lap when I consistently ruined their handiwork. As Lisa brought me in
from Lap 6, I saw Royce Willmschen and he’d told me that he’d called Linda to
come in early – since BD had estimated that I was only minutes behind him. Of
course, by the end of Lap 6, I was *many* minutes (like 90) behind BD so
the call was a bit premature – but it was going to be great to share my final
lap with Linda. Lap 7 was slow, but uneventful. I was making relentless
forward progress and could forecast my finish at approximately 26 hours. It
wasn’t my unspoken goal of sub-24 hours, but it would earn me that finisher’s
belt buckle. As a little added bonus along these laps, my kidney’s decided to
start working again – so it was just one less thing to worry about. Walt was
right on the money about the cooler weather. We finished Lap 7 and Linda was
waiting anxiously for me – unfortunately for nearly 3 hours. I thanked Lisa
for her selfless service and most welcomed company during the long night, and
set about to my final round of maintenance tasks to finish Lap 8 and bring the
last six months of training to a successful conclusion.
By now,
you’ve probably figured out that my wife, Linda, is quite patient and very
indulgent of my little running problem. Her response to my desire to run the Umstead
100 during the weekend of our 16th anniversary was to volunteer for
the race and pace me during my last lap. Pretty cool… Anyway, we headed out
about 4:00 a.m. for Lap 8 – and I was going to really enjoy this one. We continued
to motivate forward via my little power walking method. Frankly, it wasn’t
sexy, but I was pretty comfortable and didn’t care about going much faster at
this point. I was pointing out stuff along the course to Linda… “Hey, this is
the last time I’m going to see the Airport Loop turnaround in this race!”…
“Hey, this is the last time we’ll see Reedy Creek Lake!” We were making our
way along Turkey Creek Trail toward the aid station, when I started to get
quiet because I was hadn’t adjusted my nutrition schedule for these longer laps
and was getting a little loopy, but we were only a mile away from the aid
station. I was also freezing and Linda finally insisted that I take her jacket
(while she shivered for the rest of the lap). As we visited Aid Station #2
(The Ptomaine Tavern) for the last time, I got a couple cups of soup into my
system and the sun was starting to come out. I was practically giddy because I
was five miles from finishing this beast. It was almost too much to bear
because everything became a milestone – finished Turkey Creek, finished Graylan,
home stretch on Reedy Creek… As Linda and I turned into the gate for Camp Lapahio,
I just wanted to finish so badly I started to run. The Race Director suggests
running to the finish line (maybe the last 100 meters up the hill), but I
couldn’t wait that long… We ran the last half mile and I crossed the finish
line pumping my fist like I’d won the damn race… and in my own way I had in
26:16. After that it was a whirlwind of activities – the Race Director grabbed
me and pumped my hand and gave me my belt buckle. Linda came over and hugged
me to share this special moment. BD came stumbling out of the Lodge (because
he’d finished over three hours earlier and waited for me – he later described
getting his legs to work to get out of the lodge to see me as the most painful
part of his run). I hugged BD and we offered each other congratulations. I
hugged Lisa, my pacer for Laps 6 & 7. I’m sure I hugged total strangers
and thanked every volunteer within hearing distance.
The finish line – I got the girl (16 years ago) and the belt
buckle! (That’s Linda I’m hugging and Blake Norwood, RD to my left.) Maybe I
hugged Blake, too, I was delirious…
Postscript
The human
body is simply amazing. We can will ourselves to do things that are nearly
inconceivable by conventional standards. However, when the feat is over and we
give the conscious mind reign once again, it is almost frightening how quickly
the system which performed so amazingly will shut down and we are powerless to
stop it. At least, that was my experience. I simply wanted to sleep. I
don’t remember the ride home, or the bath that I demanded before I’d get in bed
(and nearly drowned because I couldn’t stay awake). There was just 9 hours of
the deepest sleep, followed by the biggest, guiltless meals of fried chicken,
followed by 10 more hours of sleep. I felt I was living the life of our pet
cats. Monday found me a bit sore and stiff (ya think?!). My right cankle
(yep, guys get ‘em, too) was moderately sprained. A visit to a skilled massage
therapist, Angela White, was not indulgent – but necessary to facilitate
healing. Angela spent over an hour sorting out my ailments, and it is now very
clear to me why all the elite athletes have dedicated massage therapists as
part of their team. By Tuesday, I was feeling much better than should have
been allowed to feel – after punishing my body as I had.
Maybe I felt
too good, because Linda asked me the inevitable question on Monday morning,
“Would you do it again?” – and my only comment was how much I *needed* one of the silver belt buckles for sub 24 hour finishers. Some things never
change…
100 miles, nearly 14,000 calories burned, 48+ hours without
sleep – “Can we go home now?!”
“Pain is
inevitable, suffering is optional.”
“Persistence
prevails when all else fails.”
“Come back
victorious or come back upon your shield.”
– thoughts
from Blake Norwood, RD for Umstead Endurance Run, on running your first 100
Darryl Banks
10:00 Group/The Incredibles
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