or the race that never happened in my book...
The story of my latest 100 miler attempt starts with Comrades. After all, Comrades 2014 was what this year was supposed to be all about. I had trained so hard, sacrificed so much, all in the attempt for the elusive silver medal. My prep and arrival were ideal, but it was not to be. My entry is late to come due to not wanting to relive the tragedy. But in order to prepare for the future, we must study the past.
Roused by the typical start line energy and experiencing lower temps than 2013, everything started according to plan. Fearing too fast of a start, I began splitting each kilometer on my watch to be certain I did not burn out. In the dark of Pietermaritzburg, this proved to be a daunting reminder of how long the race actually is, but I was hitting just under my desired pace, so all was according to plan. Resolute not to let anyone run my race for me, I still managed to hook up with a man from Israel. He, too, was attempting his 4th Comrades and did not yet get silver.
We rolled on, hitting the desired pace. I was determined to walk at prescribed points and did while he preferred to run straight on (perhaps his problem), which caused some chase games for a while. I continued to be on pace although we separated in the run into halfway when I walked up part of Inchanga, catching and passing him at the top when he stopped to pee. From then on, I was alone. My halfway split of 3:37 proved to be a bit faster than I wanted but not too fast, and it allowed me to walk much of the nasty climb out of Durmmond. I passed 50K with no problems, still well on pace. Coming over Botha’s Hill, I felt funny, and pulled up to speak with Lindsey Parry, Comrades Coach and one of my training partners, expressing my fear that it wouldn’t hold up. He assured me it would and sent me on.
Within 2K I was suffering. A small hill left me in pain and feeling heat flashes. I was weaving as I walked. I soldiered on but running was becoming a chore. I went from sailing along at under 5 min/K to barely running a few hundred meters before stopping to walk. The more I did, the less I could run. By the Green Mile – the point on the course with perhaps the most energy from the spectators - I was taking ice massages and walks through the whole thing. My jogs shortened from a few minutes to a few seconds, and the cramping in my legs was incessant. Stumbling through Kloof I hit the pavement and had to be stretched by volunteers for about 10 min. Barely able to stand, I was encouraged to keep moving, though I wanted to bail. For the next kilometer, the course meandered slightly downhill – a feature welcomed by most but for me it was unrunable. I couldn’t even jog without cramping. I stopped with 24K to go. In my mind I knew that at the 23K mark the road dropped for 3K down Field’s Hill which is torture even on a good day. For me, it would be the end.
I hitchhiked a ride to the finish and despite two massages, still looked and felt like death. I was in worse shape after my 39 mile effort than I had been in any of the previous 54/56 mile efforts. Something was seriously wrong with me. It seems as though any running past 35 miles or 4.5 hours does me in. Has it always been this way? No, I could do WSER on tri training. So what has happened? Since the stomach issues of Victoria Falls two and a half years ago, I have been unable to go weeks without stomach pain, liquid fecal matter, or finish a long race (well). Last year’s Comrades was total muscle failure around 60K. I DNF’ed at Burning River 100 at 65 miles (but effectively stopped running around 50). This year the problems hit hard 55K in and that was it. My fatigue and reaction are nearly instantaneous. One expects the body to go through highs and lows in an ultra, but what I am experiencing is not a cycle but a shutdown and it happens much faster than a normal depletion of energy and onset of muscle fatigue should. I am now seeing that many of my struggles in the past 2 years are due to this issue, and question if it doesn’t date all the way back to the onset of the 2nd Leadville 100 I attempted. What I do know is that unless it clears, this is a futile journey.
The story of my latest 100 miler attempt starts with Comrades. After all, Comrades 2014 was what this year was supposed to be all about. I had trained so hard, sacrificed so much, all in the attempt for the elusive silver medal. My prep and arrival were ideal, but it was not to be. My entry is late to come due to not wanting to relive the tragedy. But in order to prepare for the future, we must study the past.
Roused by the typical start line energy and experiencing lower temps than 2013, everything started according to plan. Fearing too fast of a start, I began splitting each kilometer on my watch to be certain I did not burn out. In the dark of Pietermaritzburg, this proved to be a daunting reminder of how long the race actually is, but I was hitting just under my desired pace, so all was according to plan. Resolute not to let anyone run my race for me, I still managed to hook up with a man from Israel. He, too, was attempting his 4th Comrades and did not yet get silver.
 |
| No problems at table 1 as I take my water bottle from a club member. See Israel in the back ground (blue). |
We rolled on, hitting the desired pace. I was determined to walk at prescribed points and did while he preferred to run straight on (perhaps his problem), which caused some chase games for a while. I continued to be on pace although we separated in the run into halfway when I walked up part of Inchanga, catching and passing him at the top when he stopped to pee. From then on, I was alone. My halfway split of 3:37 proved to be a bit faster than I wanted but not too fast, and it allowed me to walk much of the nasty climb out of Durmmond. I passed 50K with no problems, still well on pace. Coming over Botha’s Hill, I felt funny, and pulled up to speak with Lindsey Parry, Comrades Coach and one of my training partners, expressing my fear that it wouldn’t hold up. He assured me it would and sent me on.
Within 2K I was suffering. A small hill left me in pain and feeling heat flashes. I was weaving as I walked. I soldiered on but running was becoming a chore. I went from sailing along at under 5 min/K to barely running a few hundred meters before stopping to walk. The more I did, the less I could run. By the Green Mile – the point on the course with perhaps the most energy from the spectators - I was taking ice massages and walks through the whole thing. My jogs shortened from a few minutes to a few seconds, and the cramping in my legs was incessant. Stumbling through Kloof I hit the pavement and had to be stretched by volunteers for about 10 min. Barely able to stand, I was encouraged to keep moving, though I wanted to bail. For the next kilometer, the course meandered slightly downhill – a feature welcomed by most but for me it was unrunable. I couldn’t even jog without cramping. I stopped with 24K to go. In my mind I knew that at the 23K mark the road dropped for 3K down Field’s Hill which is torture even on a good day. For me, it would be the end.
I hitchhiked a ride to the finish and despite two massages, still looked and felt like death. I was in worse shape after my 39 mile effort than I had been in any of the previous 54/56 mile efforts. Something was seriously wrong with me. It seems as though any running past 35 miles or 4.5 hours does me in. Has it always been this way? No, I could do WSER on tri training. So what has happened? Since the stomach issues of Victoria Falls two and a half years ago, I have been unable to go weeks without stomach pain, liquid fecal matter, or finish a long race (well). Last year’s Comrades was total muscle failure around 60K. I DNF’ed at Burning River 100 at 65 miles (but effectively stopped running around 50). This year the problems hit hard 55K in and that was it. My fatigue and reaction are nearly instantaneous. One expects the body to go through highs and lows in an ultra, but what I am experiencing is not a cycle but a shutdown and it happens much faster than a normal depletion of energy and onset of muscle fatigue should. I am now seeing that many of my struggles in the past 2 years are due to this issue, and question if it doesn’t date all the way back to the onset of the 2nd Leadville 100 I attempted. What I do know is that unless it clears, this is a futile journey.
