Wasatch 100: The Beginning (sort of)

So I’m one month into Wasatch 100 training, here’s a brief overview of the last few months:

The night before the drawing (February 1):

• Feeling like a kid before Christmas, I go to the race website to see what I’m in for (aside from 100 miles and 26,000’ of elevation gain – I knew that much)
•  I start looking more closely at the descriptions of the trail sections and notice that the phrases “steep”, “poorly marked trail” and “loose rocks” are used repeatedly and start feeling nervous. 
• I remember snakes – you know, the fact that they exist and that the venomous ones are prevalent here in summer.

A change of scenery in Monterey, CA with the family for Easter

At the drawing (February 2):

• I walk into the golf club house in Soldier’s Hollow and see a small crowd of people hanging out around coffee, cookies and fruit and veggie platters.  Since these are ultra-runners and not grad students, there is more interest in the fruit and vegetables than the cookies. 
•  One of the official-looking people up front is almost done with a beer.  Its 10 AM.  I’ve found my people! 
• I notice that the women look normal.  They’re clearly athletic and in great shape, but they’re not stick-thin  and no one looks extremely weathered and wrinkly, even though they’ve all been doing this for a while (I learned this from eavesdropping and hearing them talk about other ultras, or other years doing the Wasatch 100). 
•  The race committee remembered a lot of details about prior participants.  Its seemed that they had a story about every other name drawn (oh yeah, that woman got air-lifted off Catherine Pass 3 years ago, that guy burned his shoes at the finish line 20 years ago, etc).  However, when Anton Krupicka got drawn (he’s famous, for an ultra-runner), they were unimpressed and only remarked “oh yeah, the guy that runs without a shirt on.” Whatever, I was excited… 
• They drew 400 runners, which took a few hours.  I got drawn in the second half, and when the committee saw how excited I was they joked that I’d have a different expression at Brighton (75 miles into the race).  So no matter how miserable I am 500 feet before or after, I will be smiling at Brighton.

Volunteering at the Antelope Island Buffalo Run (March 23):

• My friend Sarah S. and I volunteered to help at an aid station from 5:30-11 AM.  Since the island is an hour drive away, we went up the night before to hang out and see how everything worked.  It was a lot of fun.  We hung out around a propane heater (it was really cold that night and for most of our shift) drinking beer with other volunteers, pacers and racers who were running the next day or who had DNF’d (the cold caused a lot more to drop than usual).   

Our aid station at the Buffalo Run

• I was worried that people would tell me I was naïve and stupid for entering the Wasatch 100 as my first ultra, but everyone was really nice and encouraging.  I got recommendations for good headlamps for running at night and a good idea of what types of food are at ultra aid stations (basically, my three favorite food groups: cookies, chips and PB&J’s).

  

  Don't be fooled by the sun, it was so cold that the water jugs were freezing shut.

   

Training starts (March 25^th):

• I bought Relentless Forward Progress by Bryan Powell to use as a training guide. There are two 100 mile plans, one that builds to 70 miles/week and another than builds to 100 mpw.  I’m starting with the latter, so that I can drop to the lower plan if I start developing an overuse injury or get too stressed or something.  Bryan was actually racing at the Buffalo Run, so I said hi and told him I really liked his book so far.  He was cool; I recommend both the book and saying hi if you ever see him at a race. 

Early morning run up Emigration Canyon (16 miles, 1200' gain).

• The first few weeks of training were pretty uneventful.  I do my long runs on Fridays with Sarah S. and then a second medium length run on Saturday.  This leaves me free to stay out late on Saturday night and have a weekend day not completely taken over by running and recovery.

On the way to Black Mountain, so beautiful and desolate!

• Last Wednesday, I had the bright idea of ending my 8 mile run with a shit-ton of lunges (6x1 min with 1 min of rest in between, across a long parking lot, some of which was uphill…).  Shockingly, I was still extremely sore Friday morning when I set out for an 18 mile run.  I ran most of it on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail but took a detour up Black Mountain to get some good climbing in.  It was hard.  It was only ~3200’ gain for the entire run, but a lot of it was really steep.  Since I felt guilty for running instead of being in lab, I tried to run the steeper downhills on the way back to the BST.  By the time I got back to the “flat” part, my quads were just as wrecked as my glutes and hamstrings and I basically hobbled the last 8 miles.  But I did it, I learned from it and I made it out for an 8 mile run the next day without an excessive amount of pain.
  
  

  

  View of the Great Salt Lake from the top of Black Mountain (8000')

IM CdA Race Report Part 3: Run!

Run (5:13:13)

Course overview: The run course was two out-and-backs on the Centennial Trail along the north end

Wish I could've had some champagne too

of the lake (just like the first part of the bike course).  There were a couple of little baby hills and one bigger one, but overall the course was pretty flat.  My favorite part was the lawn full of partying college students just east of the Sander’s Beach area - they cheered extra loud if you danced along with their music. 

Sarah = super fan

As I expected from my long bricks in training, my first couple of miles were really fast, I think under 8 min/mile.  A lot of the people around me were on their second lap, so they weren’t really smiling or looking too spritely.  Between my huge smile and bright pink tank top, I stood out, and lots of cheers were directed my way.  I enjoyed it while I could and hoped that the same spectators wouldn’t be around when 13 miles later,

Yep, spectating looks pretty rough

when I figured I’d look just as tired.  My plan (hope? dream? illusion?) was to run the whole marathon and only walk the aid stations.  This lasted until the second hill on the way out of town, when I decided it would be more efficient to walk and save some energy for later.  Of course walking felt really good and it was pretty hard to start running at the top.  I didn’t follow my normal nutrition plan on the run (only gels and water), which led to some stomach issues that also made me walk more than I’d wanted. Towards the end of the bike I had been so sick of chews and sports drink that I hadn’t really been taking in many calories and my appetite came back with a vengeance when it was presented with the chips, cookies, pretzels and fruit that were at the run aid stations.  It turns out that stuffing yourself with high-sugar solid foods and then running immediately after is a really good way to give yourself a stomach ache.

Nate (in white), finishing strong

Fireman Rob doing the marathon in full gear, check out his website: http://www.firemanrob.com/

The low point of the race came right around the halfway point of the marathon.  I hadn’t put anything in my run special needs bag and there weren’t any aid stations in the center of town, so there was a two mile stretch where I wasn’t taking in any calories.  Normally this wouldn’t be a big deal, but considering that I'd already been racing for 12 hours, that I was walking so it took me longer to cover

Still smiling...

those two miles, and that I’d been trying to take in less at the last few aid station so my stomach wouldn’t hurt, I was feeling pretty weak.  I felt tired and pissed off and I had been worrying about Nate and his injured leg for most of the first lap (I had seen him on my way out but wasn’t sure if he was finishing his first or second lap) and so I snapped at my mom when she was trying cheering for me at the same time that I was trying to ask her if he had finished (he had, in 11:07:36, good enough for 4th in his age group and all with a stress fracture in his femur!).  I wanted to punch some lady when she whispered “you’re going to be an Ironman” to me like it was some sort of secret.  I wanted to say “yeah, I f-ing know!  I’m the one who’s been out here for 12 hours, I’m sure not giving up now!”  I’d been smiling and positive the rest

...and now grumpy.

of the day, but at that point I just wanted food, and I wasn’t sure if I had enough energy to make it the mile back to the aid station.  Luckily, Sarah walked along with me for a while and got me pumped to keep going.  When she stopped and headed back into town, my friends Nate (not the one who had just finished racing) and Meredith appeared and walked with me to the next aid station.  I’m really thankful all of them were there.  I’m sure I was never close to passing out or choosing to stop or anything, but there was a certain comfort in knowing that someone was going to be with you for a little ways, while the rest of the day was spent by yourself.

More excitement at the finish line

After a ways my stomach started feeling better and I realized that I wasn’t going to earn my tattoo at this rate (I had decided beforehand that I would only get one if a) I enjoyed it enough that I wanted to do another Ironman and b) I worked hard.  You might say that there’s no way to not work hard in an Ironman and to a certain extent that’s true, but I could have walked the rest of the marathon and still finished before midnight and that would've been easier) so I went back to my previous plan of running as much as I could and walking the aid stations.  Around this time it started to get dark, so the glow sticks and chicken broth came out (yes, I had some, plant-based diet be damned, I was cold and it was delicious!).  I hit the turn around on the lake shore right as the sun was setting and headed back into town in much better spirits.

The last 6 miles of the race were pretty awesome.  I was tired and sweaty, and if I hadn’t been back to running, I would’ve been really cold (next time I’ll put food and a jacket in my special needs bag, even if I don’t think I’ll be out in the dark), but I was happy, cheering on everyone I passed and hoping that they’d make it to the finish line.  It was a completely different “race” now; all the neighborhoods were quiet and dark, the lake was calm and peaceful under the stars.  I kind of took that time to reflect on the day and thank my mind and body for taking me so far.  

As I got closer to town, I could hear the music from the finish line and Mike Reilly’s voice calling people’s names as they crossed.  It was a gentle downhill to the finish, and the closer I got, the faster I ran.  I remember one volunteer telling me to relax my shoulders as I turned the final corner.  I think I remember seeing some of my family members jumping and cheering on the street before I hit the finisher’s chute.  I ran back and forth across it, giving as many high fives as I could, and crossed in 14:59:22.  As evidenced by the broad smiles in my picture, I felt pretty good.  Even writing this over three months later, and enjoying the break from regimented training, I can’t wait to do another.

After the race:

Me and Dad!

After the getting my medal and taking pictures with my family, I hung out in the food tent for a while and ate a mountain of cheese-less pizza and fruit.  I was surprised by how hungry I was then and more surprised when I wasn’t really hungry the next day or the day after.  My knees seized up while I was eating and I had pretty hard time getting up and down the bleachers at the finish line, but Nate and I stayed and cheered until the last official finisher made it across.  It was kind of hard falling asleep that night and even harder to get out of bed the next morning.  My legs just would not function.  If I wanted to turn over in bed, I had to use my arms to flip my legs, and then turn.  That lasted through Monday, but by Tuesday afternoon (when we had our tattoo appointments…) they were back to functioning and I could walk up and down stairs without too much trouble.  I even went on a short bike ride later that week.

Nate and Meredith!

So now it’s October, I’ve settled back into lab and I'm studying for prelims.  I’m running a marathon in a week and a half but I still feel like a fat, lazy slug by comparison.  I didn’t experience the “post-Ironman blues” in the way that I was expecting, but they’ve probably been there in some form or another.  I think the hardest part (aside from getting used to eating less) is letting go of the idea that I need to be super active and fit to deserve the title of Ironman.  I think that after this marathon I’ll hang up my road running shoes for a while and try out new types of exercise.  I want to explore the

New ink - it hurt worse than the race

trails behind the U more, do more yoga and regain the flexibility I had before Ironman (and maintain it during the next one) and try boot-camp and self-defense classes at a nearby studio, basically just mix things up.  I’d like to acquire some more balance in my life so that when it comes time for the next big endurance event (Comrades, perhaps?), that I can prepare for it without giving up everything else I care about. 

Two Ironmen!

Thanks to all my friends and family for putting up with my Ironman obsessions and insecurities.  A huge thanks to Sarah for driving up from Utah for the race, that meant a lot to me.  And thanks to Nate for convincing me that we could do this, I look forward to the next one :)

Some numbers:

Total Race Time: 14:59:22

Calories burned: 6599

Expenses over the year: $ 5643.63 (not including extra gas for training or racing or extra normal food.  I probably spent less on beer over that 7 months than normal though...)

- If anyone has just signed up for an Ironman and wants a better breakdown of how I managed to only spend $5600 (yes, that’s cheap for an Ironman), just let me know.

I usually hate pictures of myself, but I like this one.  Apparently 15 hours worth of sweat and endorphins is a good look for me.