A day or so after my less than stellar performance at Heartland has found me regrouping. Legs are a little sore, feet are a little more bruised, and my pride is still a little more wounded than my feet. I ran 10 miles tonight, so that should tell you that there are no permanent injuries, no disabling blisters, no bones sticking out. Actually, I had a good Monday night 10 mile run which in a way makes my DNF at mile 73 at Heartland even more disturbing.
But enough of my self pity, here's the story.
Heartland Spirit of the Prairie starts out the night before with a pre-race dinner cooked up by ladies in the community that have spent their lives refining the art of cooking up absolutely delicious entrees. Juicy tender roast beef, smothered chicken breast, cole slaw, new potatoes, and homemade bread. Top that off with brownies....yum yum.
Top that off with good friends and great dreams and aspirations, and it's a perfect race eve.
Race day morning. I stumbled around deciding what to wear. Temps were cold, but how cold? Felt like upper 30s, and the forecast was for highs to be in the low 40s....but with rain? Wind? I opted for tights, a wicking shirt and my Patagonia fleece lined pullover. Took gloves just in case.
And OMG, it was a frigid arctic blast at the starting line!!! Left to right, Jason is doing his 1st 100, Lisa her first 50, Roman, his first 50, and Ken aka K2 his 2nd stab at a 100.
Not a lot of fanfare at the start, just shivering and anticipation. The race started at 6:00 am, so the 1st hour was in darkness. I chose to run without a headlamp and intended to mooch off others. Turns out my friend Ken Saveth, whom I had committed to run the 100 with, wore a headlamp so all was well.
Ken snapped a nice shot of an early morning sky. I had forgot my camera (can you believe that?!?!?!?!?) so all of the pics in this post are ones donated by Dana, Ken Saveth, or swiped from Bobby, Russell, Cindy (Jason's Mom), Sandra, or Roman.
Early in the day, the sun made a brief appearance, and then a bank of clouds rolled in. With the arrival of the clouds, a stiff north wind settled in to blow, and continued all day. A day of comfortable running turned into a day of surviving the cold and combative wind, one which made downhills seem as hard as uphills when running south to north. Crosswinds were also bad. Not until mile 57 did we get to run with the wind at our backs.
A lot of people think that Kansas is flat. No, there are no mountains like Colorado. But in this race, the rolling hills can indeed take their toll on long distance runners, particularly this one.
Another annoyance in the course is the abundance of flint rocks on the miles and miles of gravel roads. One of the warnings to crew persons is that these flint rocks can cause a lot of flat tires, and indeed one of our crew chicklettes got a flat tire, and the tire was chewed up....had a sharp rock broke off in the rubber. Imagine what they do to shoes.
K2 and I ran well for the 1st 25 miles. We stayed in the thick of the runners, playing cat-and-mouse with Kathy, Jason, Roman, Lisa, and Randy.
It was awesome as always to have a large crew working with us.
Dana aka Taturcakes aka Crew Babe was in top form, refueling me with ham sammys, PBJs, and my faves: pb-oreo-w/m&ms. Later in the evening, she had hot chicken and rice soup. Ultra rocket fuel!!
There are a few crew-babes-in-training as well.
Here, I stop for a pic with Crew Chicklettes Sandra and Susan.
More gravel, nice sharp flint rocks.
Mile 28 brought us into open prairie....literally. This land is big, no telephone poles, no signs of civilization except for every mile or so a barbed wire fence and a cattle guard.
Mile by mile, we moved on. Through this open prairie, it seemed as though we were making no ground on the horizon. Was this road a huge treadmill in the middle of nowhere? Maybe a giant slow motion belt sander?
Finally, we reached the Matfield Green aid station. We were through the mysterious open prairie.
I was wearing and keeping a close eye on my Garmin. I know from past races that I have ran well what pace I need to see on it in the early miles. Miles 10-20, I want to see a 10-12 minute/mile pace. As the race goes on, I slow down, which is normal. I see my average pace slow to 13 m/m and I am ok with that. I can slow to an average or 14:24 m/m and still finish under 24 hours. 15, 16 m/m is ok, but results in slower times. 18 minutes/mile equates to a 30 hour finish. You cannot have 18 minute miles in the middle of a 100 miler and expect to finish, but at miles 43-57, we were getting closer to that. We hit Matfield with 25 minutes to spare. Then, I thought it was 6.5 miles to the turn-around when infact it was 7.5. This equated to 2 extra miles and absorbed all of our cushion! We hit the aid station with 8 minutes to spare!
Getting back to Matfield and mile 57.5, we were 15 minutes under the cut-off. Russell was set to pace us for as long as we needed him. New life! Fresh legs. Anything for a jump-start.
(Of course, this pic of Russell was taken in a warmer part of the world.)
The aid station was 6 miles and we had exactly 2 hours to get there. But K2's knee was hurting, and my zombie-shuffle was netting 17 minute miles at best. We got to Ridgeline with 15 minutes to spare. I had to have some of the amazing Prairie Power Pellets. Yum!! I heard the bad news that my friend Long Vu had gotten nauseated, tossed all the contents of his stomach, and then walked for a long way and was uncontrollably cold. He was dropping after looking so good early in the race. Fellow blogger Colleen aka Cynical Dirt Doll was helping at this aid station because her runner had dropped. K2 was wavering, I was beat. I needed to get out of that tent! It was warm and getting hard to leave. I made myself leave, and the three of us headed out into one of the harder parts of the course. We had to pick up the pace!!!
The cut off for Texaco Hill, 5.5 miles away (I think it was further) was in less than 2 hours. I knew if we could maintain 17 minute miles, even with a lot of walking, we could make it. But a lot of this section was a gradual uphill. It could easily be ran with fresh legs, but fatigue was winning. It was getting colder, and the wind which had died down had whipped back up. Somewhere under a dark starless sky, I watched the time tick by with no aid station in sight. I knew we had missed the cutoff time. When we did amble into the aid tent, They served us warm coffee, soup, cocoa. What great people. Then a man stuck his head in the tent and told us we were past our cutoff. He told us he wanted us to finish, and would let us go on, but we had to make up some time. I knew the next 6 miles were tough. Hills, rugged roads. My feet felt like someone had beat on the bottoms of them with a hammer. I had no blisters due to pre-taping and toe socks, but I felt like I was running on swollen bruises. K2 elected to stop. Since we were told we would have to wait for maybe a couple of hours before they trucked us out of the prairie, and since they told us we COULD continue, Russell and I decided to hoof it. I was hoping for some zombie magic. Maybe I could find my running mojo? Maybe if I made myself run, I could find my rhythm. The plan was, the truck that would be taking K2 out would also have all the aid station stuff packed up, and would pass us and pick us up if we wanted, but possibly would let us stay in the race if we were making sufficient time.
This is where my race really fell apart. I had control the situation, but let sleepiness, fatigue, and aching feet dictate my race. I was stumbling around in the middle of nowhere in the dark, in the cold, and in an increasing wind. Poor Russell, who had really wanted to run and help us to the finish, got in 10 miles of mostly walking. Sorry, Brother.
I was so glad when the truck, trailer, and our ride to civilization. My race ended at mile 73. The truck took us to the next aid station where our crew was waiting, and where Bobby was waiting to run me in to the finish. Poor Bobby had changes his clothes (read that: got naked) outside in the freezing temps. Sorry, Bobby :-(
We went back to the finish line to wait for Jason and Kathy to finish. They came in at 24:23. Awesome job, guys!
Earlier in the day, Lisa and Roman finished their first 50 milers, and Randy added another ultra finish to his long resume. Ken aka K2 ran further than he had ever run in his life. He had his knee barking at him from the 25 mile mark, and it was excruciatingly painful from mile 43 until when he was pulled at mile 69. Valiant effort, my friend. You will get your 100 mile finish some day. I am so happy and so very proud of my friends!
Me, I am still processing my running desires. 100 milers are a lot of fun when you have a good race. 24-30 hours of struggling is another story. Do I really want to keep this up? Shorter races are so much easier. Right now, I am canceling all plans for 100 milers for the remainder of the year. Not going to Palo Duro. Not going to Ozark 100. Will do the Tulsa Run dressed up as something. Probably will do Route 66. Might do Texas Trail 50K. Still processing the future.
But enough of my self pity, here's the story.
Heartland Spirit of the Prairie starts out the night before with a pre-race dinner cooked up by ladies in the community that have spent their lives refining the art of cooking up absolutely delicious entrees. Juicy tender roast beef, smothered chicken breast, cole slaw, new potatoes, and homemade bread. Top that off with brownies....yum yum.
Top that off with good friends and great dreams and aspirations, and it's a perfect race eve.Race day morning. I stumbled around deciding what to wear. Temps were cold, but how cold? Felt like upper 30s, and the forecast was for highs to be in the low 40s....but with rain? Wind? I opted for tights, a wicking shirt and my Patagonia fleece lined pullover. Took gloves just in case.
And OMG, it was a frigid arctic blast at the starting line!!! Left to right, Jason is doing his 1st 100, Lisa her first 50, Roman, his first 50, and Ken aka K2 his 2nd stab at a 100.Not a lot of fanfare at the start, just shivering and anticipation. The race started at 6:00 am, so the 1st hour was in darkness. I chose to run without a headlamp and intended to mooch off others. Turns out my friend Ken Saveth, whom I had committed to run the 100 with, wore a headlamp so all was well.
Ken snapped a nice shot of an early morning sky. I had forgot my camera (can you believe that?!?!?!?!?) so all of the pics in this post are ones donated by Dana, Ken Saveth, or swiped from Bobby, Russell, Cindy (Jason's Mom), Sandra, or Roman.
Early in the day, the sun made a brief appearance, and then a bank of clouds rolled in. With the arrival of the clouds, a stiff north wind settled in to blow, and continued all day. A day of comfortable running turned into a day of surviving the cold and combative wind, one which made downhills seem as hard as uphills when running south to north. Crosswinds were also bad. Not until mile 57 did we get to run with the wind at our backs.A lot of people think that Kansas is flat. No, there are no mountains like Colorado. But in this race, the rolling hills can indeed take their toll on long distance runners, particularly this one.
Another annoyance in the course is the abundance of flint rocks on the miles and miles of gravel roads. One of the warnings to crew persons is that these flint rocks can cause a lot of flat tires, and indeed one of our crew chicklettes got a flat tire, and the tire was chewed up....had a sharp rock broke off in the rubber. Imagine what they do to shoes.
K2 and I ran well for the 1st 25 miles. We stayed in the thick of the runners, playing cat-and-mouse with Kathy, Jason, Roman, Lisa, and Randy.
It was awesome as always to have a large crew working with us.
Dana aka Taturcakes aka Crew Babe was in top form, refueling me with ham sammys, PBJs, and my faves: pb-oreo-w/m&ms. Later in the evening, she had hot chicken and rice soup. Ultra rocket fuel!!There are a few crew-babes-in-training as well.
Here, I stop for a pic with Crew Chicklettes Sandra and Susan.
More gravel, nice sharp flint rocks.
Mile 28 brought us into open prairie....literally. This land is big, no telephone poles, no signs of civilization except for every mile or so a barbed wire fence and a cattle guard.
Mile by mile, we moved on. Through this open prairie, it seemed as though we were making no ground on the horizon. Was this road a huge treadmill in the middle of nowhere? Maybe a giant slow motion belt sander?
Finally, we reached the Matfield Green aid station. We were through the mysterious open prairie.
I was wearing and keeping a close eye on my Garmin. I know from past races that I have ran well what pace I need to see on it in the early miles. Miles 10-20, I want to see a 10-12 minute/mile pace. As the race goes on, I slow down, which is normal. I see my average pace slow to 13 m/m and I am ok with that. I can slow to an average or 14:24 m/m and still finish under 24 hours. 15, 16 m/m is ok, but results in slower times. 18 minutes/mile equates to a 30 hour finish. You cannot have 18 minute miles in the middle of a 100 miler and expect to finish, but at miles 43-57, we were getting closer to that. We hit Matfield with 25 minutes to spare. Then, I thought it was 6.5 miles to the turn-around when infact it was 7.5. This equated to 2 extra miles and absorbed all of our cushion! We hit the aid station with 8 minutes to spare!Getting back to Matfield and mile 57.5, we were 15 minutes under the cut-off. Russell was set to pace us for as long as we needed him. New life! Fresh legs. Anything for a jump-start.
(Of course, this pic of Russell was taken in a warmer part of the world.)The aid station was 6 miles and we had exactly 2 hours to get there. But K2's knee was hurting, and my zombie-shuffle was netting 17 minute miles at best. We got to Ridgeline with 15 minutes to spare. I had to have some of the amazing Prairie Power Pellets. Yum!! I heard the bad news that my friend Long Vu had gotten nauseated, tossed all the contents of his stomach, and then walked for a long way and was uncontrollably cold. He was dropping after looking so good early in the race. Fellow blogger Colleen aka Cynical Dirt Doll was helping at this aid station because her runner had dropped. K2 was wavering, I was beat. I needed to get out of that tent! It was warm and getting hard to leave. I made myself leave, and the three of us headed out into one of the harder parts of the course. We had to pick up the pace!!!
The cut off for Texaco Hill, 5.5 miles away (I think it was further) was in less than 2 hours. I knew if we could maintain 17 minute miles, even with a lot of walking, we could make it. But a lot of this section was a gradual uphill. It could easily be ran with fresh legs, but fatigue was winning. It was getting colder, and the wind which had died down had whipped back up. Somewhere under a dark starless sky, I watched the time tick by with no aid station in sight. I knew we had missed the cutoff time. When we did amble into the aid tent, They served us warm coffee, soup, cocoa. What great people. Then a man stuck his head in the tent and told us we were past our cutoff. He told us he wanted us to finish, and would let us go on, but we had to make up some time. I knew the next 6 miles were tough. Hills, rugged roads. My feet felt like someone had beat on the bottoms of them with a hammer. I had no blisters due to pre-taping and toe socks, but I felt like I was running on swollen bruises. K2 elected to stop. Since we were told we would have to wait for maybe a couple of hours before they trucked us out of the prairie, and since they told us we COULD continue, Russell and I decided to hoof it. I was hoping for some zombie magic. Maybe I could find my running mojo? Maybe if I made myself run, I could find my rhythm. The plan was, the truck that would be taking K2 out would also have all the aid station stuff packed up, and would pass us and pick us up if we wanted, but possibly would let us stay in the race if we were making sufficient time.
This is where my race really fell apart. I had control the situation, but let sleepiness, fatigue, and aching feet dictate my race. I was stumbling around in the middle of nowhere in the dark, in the cold, and in an increasing wind. Poor Russell, who had really wanted to run and help us to the finish, got in 10 miles of mostly walking. Sorry, Brother.
I was so glad when the truck, trailer, and our ride to civilization. My race ended at mile 73. The truck took us to the next aid station where our crew was waiting, and where Bobby was waiting to run me in to the finish. Poor Bobby had changes his clothes (read that: got naked) outside in the freezing temps. Sorry, Bobby :-(
We went back to the finish line to wait for Jason and Kathy to finish. They came in at 24:23. Awesome job, guys!
Earlier in the day, Lisa and Roman finished their first 50 milers, and Randy added another ultra finish to his long resume. Ken aka K2 ran further than he had ever run in his life. He had his knee barking at him from the 25 mile mark, and it was excruciatingly painful from mile 43 until when he was pulled at mile 69. Valiant effort, my friend. You will get your 100 mile finish some day. I am so happy and so very proud of my friends!
Me, I am still processing my running desires. 100 milers are a lot of fun when you have a good race. 24-30 hours of struggling is another story. Do I really want to keep this up? Shorter races are so much easier. Right now, I am canceling all plans for 100 milers for the remainder of the year. Not going to Palo Duro. Not going to Ozark 100. Will do the Tulsa Run dressed up as something. Probably will do Route 66. Might do Texas Trail 50K. Still processing the future.
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