An Incondite Adventure: From O to Ultra in 30 Days - The First Race in the Middle East

After 2.5 months off, I resumed running but for the first time in the Middle East. An opportunity to run an ultra presented itself so I signed up. Time to start running. The first day I went out for a 40 min run, the minimum allowable time for my normal run. Things went well for the first 15 minutes, then I got a bit tired, then I got downright shuffling. The next few days I was so sore with shin splints (those things beginning runners get) that I had to bike, use the elliptical and treadmill. After a week I worked up a few more decent runs. I went over an hour twice. Overall, 21 days of running leading up to the race.

21 days. And now I had a 50K. 31 miles. In one day.

31 miles, 11 miles more than I ran together in any of the first 3 weeks. I did crack an epic 34 mile week (with a 10 miler) in week 4. But it was go time.

No info came out on the race. My plan was to get up on Halloween, suffer through this race, nap, and take the kids trick or treating. Then, 4 days before the race, I get the packet, and find the race starts at 6, at night! This was a blow to the plan. But dropping the kids off at the Halloween party, I went to the race, collected my number, and milled around. I headed to the start line and, with about 150 others, set off into the night. It was 86 degrees Fahrenheit with 68% humidity.

The course was 10 x 5K loops with little elevation gain. I set off at a reasonable pace with the invited athletes (this was a world 50K trophy race) blasting out. I settled in with Hugh Hunter, a worldwide known ultra runner (who runs most races in a kilt – he has done the Sahara, Paris to London (run Paris marathon, run to London, run London), Badwater, Ironman, Mont Blanc, and 160 or more marathons), chatting the whole way. He started to flag after 3 laps but I really wanted to get through a lot of the run with my mind elsewhere so we stayed together though most of lap 4 before he walked. After dropping the pace and getting done with 5 laps, I was halfway there in about 2:13 but now alone. If I had jumped into a pool and came out, I would not have been dripping as much as I was during this run. When it cools about ½ a degree per hour, hot is hot and mid-80s is hot.

From here, the difficulties started to come in. I was tired. By 28K my quads really hurt. It was that dull hurt that gets only subtlety worse with each step, whether you go fast, slow, or just walk, so might as just go. The course had a decent amount of brick walkway which really made the feet ache and the ankles scream. While the course was closed, there were a few sections of annoyance, like the fat local kids roller blading on the course, or when women in full abaya wander into the course, either oblivious or indifferent to the many barriers crossed and runners coming their way. Another sad moment was when I saw locals throwing large rocks on the course as runners went by. There is just that lack of empathy here that is frustrating. And then when I saw flowers uprooted and tossed on the pavement– so sad to destroy the little plant life put here for our enjoyment. In true Doha fashion, this was cleaned up soon after, though.

Dead legged and struggling, I pushed through the marathon in 3:45 – slower than I ever thought I would run, but yet somehow faster than I should go with no running. From here, the last 2.5 laps put me in the hurt locker. I gritted through it and made the most of my last lap, hanging on with the best I could muster. My time was just less than a minute off last year’s winner, and I could have raced him for it. Hell, even a bit of training could have saved me 10 minutes. I wobbled after crossing the line and headed to medical. My legs were shot – nothing like the sudden shutdown of my previous ultra follies – this was a slow, steady demise of the body as a result of not training very much. I tried to get into an ice bath but it was too cold. Instead I sat and chatted with other lost souls, glad to see the vomit come from someone else for a change.

A woman walks in and asks me to wait 10 min before going to the ceremony. I had no idea what she was talking about. Turns out, there were two races – the invited Championship race and an open version. Despite running about 40 min slower than I would have in top shape, I took 2nd place! I hobbled over to the podium to accept my prize – a miniature trophy of the Torch Hotel and a bouquet of flowers, and was invited back the next day for a ceremony at the hotel. Full press conference, all of the big wigs of athletics in Qatar were there. Photos, cake cutting, speeches. I then found out that not only was there the trophy and open race, there was a Golf Coast Countries (GGC) Championship. Being a resident of Qatar, I then won the GCC 50K Championship! There may be better people out there, but for one day, I am the top ultra runner in Qatar and the Middle East!

Still sweating 1 hour after the finish


GCC Champion!

It was my original resolution to move away from running and focus on other things. But there is something special about running, about pushing yourself to your limit. There is something, after all, life affirming about almost dying. I would prefer, however, to be in a little bit better shape the next time around.