Riddlebox Winter Ultra (50K)

Riddlebox 50K

awkward stance stretching my calves

What a fantastic way to end the racing year. The Riddlebox Ultra offered everything I could’ve wanted in a late year ultra-marathon to cap off a very successful year thus far (one 2^nd place and one 15^th place!). I had never raced a 50K before. 50K stands for 50 KM (kilometers, which is about 31.something miles). You get about 5 extra miles on top of your average marathon distance. Just so you know that you are physically done when you crossed 26.2 miles and tell yourself that another 5 miles isn’t that far (yeah right!). Your body is protesting but your mind is stubborn enough to tell it to go to *$&@ and that you will finish this S.O.B. (sorry for the language mom!!!).

This has been a harder race than my previous 50 milers. The overall pace was more strenuous and I kept looking back to ensure my overall standings starting from about the half way point. More on this later. Mentally this was a good test for my bigger ambitions coming up in the next couple of years.

The day started of beautifully with me waking up next to my beautiful wife and daughter, and they both slept in peace, which didn’t happen too often in those days. It’s like they knew that I needed a good night sleep to compete in the following day’s ultra-marathon just outside of Sioux Falls. I
 was tempted to simply go back to bed and sleep in until 6am! Imagine that!

My gear (with Gloves!!!)

Both how tired I was the morning of the race
and the morning after the race!

No, I got up a good 3 hours before sunrise to make sure that I can prep correctly prior to the race by going through my gear, map and breakfast arrangements. Christina’s dad enthusiastically volunteered to be my crew for the day and my single goal was to not ruin the day for him. If he semi-enjoyed the day, I would be able to count on him in the future for other races. He was up before I came downstairs and coffee was already brewing and the day had started out perfectly. We were out of the door within 10 minutes and back in(!) within another two as he asked me if I planned on bringing gloves, which were just hanging out in the hallway closet. Of course, he thought about the little aspect that I would’ve simply forgotten. But, it was only around 15F outside and gloves would probably turn out to be a good idea.

We conversed on our way out of town on commented on the ever declining gas prices but fell more and more silent the closer we got to the starting line in anticipation of the race start. I anxiously tied my shoes and shouldered my water pouch and we entered the local winery to receive the pre-race instructions. The rules were pretty straight forward and wouldn’t cause an issue throughout the day, It was interesting seeing the competition shuffle nervously from one foot to the next or in quite contrast calmly checking their Facebook newsfeed as the race director let us know what to expect on the course. Shortly after, we assembled at the starting line. As everyone was cautiously holding back, I didn’t mind taking the point at the starting line, and with the sound of the gun we were off.

The first half mile was probably the fastest split of the day for me. Even though I lined up knowing that I should not go out too fast, I always try to break the mile world record at the beginning of the race. So far, no luckJ.

me right after the start, going out too fast

Needless to say, I took the lead immediately. I thought that was quite alright if I now could hold on to it for about 31 miles. Unfortunately we crossed a creek after a half a mile, and since I couldn’t follow anyone, since I was being awesome winning the race and all,  I didn’t’ know quite where to go and stumbled my way back onto the road, where I was quickly over- taken. Alright. Second place is not that bad. Now I noticed my rather high heart rate and that I should really slow down to catch my breath. Otherwise I would definitely blow up later on in the race, jeopardizing the possibility of even finishing. Within 10 minutes of doing so, the next person shuffled by me. The Ultra-marathoner’s fragile mindset set in right way and I knew everyone else was going to pass me, but I was able to catch up on the ensuing downhill and I trailed the leading lady for the next 3 miles to overtake her after the turnaround point to settle into second place. I could only see the leading guy in the far distance. Either he bit off more than he can chew and I will catch him towards the end of the race, or he will easily win the race.

That early turn around after 3 miles allowed me to gauge the remaining competition. I had expected that a couple fast runners from Omaha would show their cards at this point, but I never figured out if they didn’t run hard enough or simply didn’t want to go for it. Either way, I had a good feeling that this was a 3-person race. The leader, myself and the leading lady.

After about 6 miles we returned to the starting line and my father-in-law professionally passed on to me my exchange water bottle, asked me what else I needed and told me that the guy ahead of me was about 4 minutes ahead. A perfect crew chief! The following rolling hills weren’t necessarily my strength and I lost visual contact with the leader. I had a short confusion at an intersection but luckily settled for the correct turn and continued on my way.

For fun I raced a couple of bikers from the Fat-Bike race which happened simultaneously. We went up the next big hill and I actually beat them to the summit, before they left me in the dust on the following descend.

I was surprised to see my father-in-law again after only 10 miles, but it was a great mental boost as the monotone gravel road had taken its’ toll and I slowed down to pedestrian shuffle. After meeting him I stormed up the biggest climb of the day. While climbing, I could see the 3^rd place in the distance, which made me feel a strange mix of confidence and anxiety, as it was a good distance after 10 miles, but nothing to feel safe about.

To my surprise I reached the summit, took a left turn and was 30 feet behind the leader! Holy crap! I must’ve mountain-goated that ascend to make up that big difference! I was feeling it!

On the ensuing downhill, the leader looked back and simply left me in his dust. He quickly opened a 2 minute gap, which turned in to a 4 minute gap by the next aid station at the half way point. After the race he told me that he had taken the wrong turn and went off course. That’s why I popped in right behind him, which also explains why he was able to separate so quickly from me again. Turns out he had qualified for Boston before and entered to run the “Boston Marathon of Ultras, the Western States 100 Endurance Run” in California. As with Boston, you also have to qualify to run it, which I have done before, but need to enter the lottery and auction off your first-born in order to have a shot at getting a coveted spot, as only a couple hundred runners every year get to participate.

I spent a generous 10 seconds at the aid station refilling my bottles as I was trying to catch up to the leader. The course at this point was a stretch of 3 miles of straight gravel road. So despite the 7 minute difference he worked up, I could clearly see him straight ahead. What an agonizing feeling. So close, but yet so far!

A local farm dog encouraged me to speed up during the next mile or so as he wouldn’t stop trailing me while barking profusely. I know, barking dogs won’t bite, but why take a risk. That was probably my second fastest mile of the day!

I shed the protective dog and took a turn into the wind coming from the east. From now on I kept glancing back hoping to hear the dog bark at the next runner in order to know how far ahead I was. I never did hear the dog. I didn’t know if that meant that there wasn’t a runner or if they were just too far behind to hear. Either way, the leader was out of sight and I was approaching the 20 mile mark and I noticed that I had neglected my nutrition throughout the day. I bonked pretty hard and was glad that the next aid station had sugar loaded gels to get me back on my feet.  My father-in-law encouraged me to keep going at the 22 mile point, while he had become friends with a local lab, which came out of nowhere. He later told me that the dog vanished as quickly as he appeared in the first place.  At the aid station at 24 miles, the aid station attendant told me that the guy ahead was long gone, but that I wasn’t looking “too bad” (that’s code for: Man, you’re done!)  

Tired, hurting and overall whiny...

I walked the next mile. I am not proud of it, but I conceded the victory to the guy ahead of me. Well, really I was in no place of conceding as he was in a place of clinching victory, Knowing I would completely blow up heading into the wind, trying to keep up with the fast pace I had initiated, I took solace in the fact that I needed that short rest, physically, and mentally in order to keep off the 3^rd place runner.

I reached the base of the second climb of the highest peak of the day (same as earlier, but from a different diredction) and started nervously looking back. This is not that mindset you want to have during a race. Look ahead, not back!

Anyways, I could see the next runner about 1.5 miles back and knew that distance could easily be made up if I didn’t keep my pace. The bicycle racers for the 100k started passing me after I was done with the descend and I asked each one how far the next runner was behind me. Interesting enough, each one had a different answer ranging from 10 minutes to a good hour. That turned out to really not be helpful at all. That portion of the race was mentally as draining as could be I ran scared. It is more fun chasing someone than keeping someone off your tail. \

I had about 5 miles to go and more bikers kept confusing me to the point where I told myself that the next runner deserved 2^nd place if they caught me. That’s not necessarily a winning strategy, but it kept me going for the next 3 miles. The next biker told me that the runner behind was a lady, and only 3 minutes behind. HOLY CRAP!I could almost feel her breath on my neck!

I had maybe 3 miles to the finish and I started going for broke. I could’ve cramped at any point but altered my running gait from decline to incline depending on the situation and simply started eating up distance. I didn’t dare looking back. I faintly hoped to make out a figure in the distance ahead of me, but had not look with doing so. I was fighting for second place. With about a half mile to go, another biker passed me and told me no one was behind me for another 45 minutes or so (the next runner had taken a wrong turn! This is horrible for a runner’s psyche, but is necessary to develop your mental game!). It set in to me that I was going in for a second place overall after all.

For a moment I got quite emotional as I saw my father-in-law at the finish line taking pictures of me coming in and I was simply elated by breaking my personal record for the 50K and having him in that spot supporting me.

He ended up taking a sweet picture of me crossing the finish line, which he gave me framed for Christmas a few weeks later and is standing on my wife’s desk at work now (makes me feel awesome!).

The leader beat me by a good half hour and I gapped the 3^rd place by another half hour. I think if I focus on my marathon training in 2015, I should be able to compete for the top spot next December. We’ll see.

Big Brad 50 mile Ultra/ Maine (7/50)

Beep. Beep. Beep. …Beep. Beep. Beep.…Beep. Beep. Beep.

4:30am. Time to get up. I didn’t sleep much to begin with. We had a dinner party with some friends and family the previous night and didn’t go to bed until a little after 11pm. Then Leiana woke up at least a couple of times and I myself psyched myself out that I would sleep in so I woke up another 2-3 times for good measure. On top of that, 4:30am Eastern Time. That meant, back home it was only 3:30am. I was contemplating blowing off the 50 mile (80km) race and sign in at 9am for the 50K (31mi) race instead just so I could sleep more. Despite the alluring warmth of the bed, I jumped out and stopped the alarm.

Half an hour to get dressed and get going. Christina took care of Leiana and her aunt was going to watch her until the race started and Christina would come back to take her again.

It’s 5am and we are sitting in the car. I had used up all the bananas the night before for dinner and had to improvise for breakfast. Therefore I ate some fried potatoes, cold mind you, from the dinner plate while Christina was navigating the hilly roads in Eastern Maine.

We arrived at the Pownal Elementary School, where the race would start, and signed in. I could see coffee offered everywhere, but no food that could’ve silenced my grumbling stomach.

A local reporter was filming a documentary and asked me a couple of questions, which occupied me and not get too excited about the impending race begin.

Outside of the gym was pitch black darkness. I had come out at 5am the previous morning to preview the race conditions at the start and to try out my new headlamp. Only it was so foggy that the lamp made it virtually impossible to see beyond 3 yards in front of me. I went off course within 2 minutes of setting off.


That would be a great indicator for my race day. At least during the race there would be people to follow if I couldn’t see the trail.

I had travelled the furthest distance to get to Pownal, as the majority of the other runners were from Maine or just across the border from Canada.

After my 2^nd place in the Badlands Ultra 10 weeks prior, I chose to switch up my hydration strategy and used a backpack with a water bladder, so that I couldn’t run out of water and didn’t need to stop at every aid station, which is only 2-3 minutes each, but easily adds up throughout the day. With the projected elevation change in excess of 16,000ft (~5km) and an extremely technical trail, which was littered with rocks, roots and wet leaves as it had rained the night before, I targeted a finishing time of about 11 hours.

The runners at the start line were very relaxed and the race began very unceremoniously. We went about 50 feet before it went straight up to the first ascent of Bradbury mountain. I tripped within the first few minutes and skimmed my knee, which resulted in me slowing down a bit and losing contact to the leading group of 4. I let a couple of runners pass me so that they could lead the way in the darkness. I could feel the adrenaline warming my arms and legs and I quickly started to sweat through my shirt, despite the very

cold 48F (~9C). I was glad that most of the day would be spend in this forested area, as wind would make this indefinitely harder (and colder!).

Descending in these conditions was an extreme adrenaline rush and I had a runners high only 3 miles into the race. Knowing the length of the day’s task, I chose to slow down abruptly as I would’ve otherwise trashed my legs too early. We returned to the school after a 3.5 mile (5.6km) loop and set out to the first of three 15.5mile (25km) loops. Back up Bradbury mountain. This time around the sun was about the break across the horizon, but I could not stop at this point to enjoy the view as I tried to stick with a couple of runners in order to not get lost.

We ended up talking for a while in order to have some time go by. This part of the trail was a 4.7 single track portion that was very flat and runnable. I found out that one was training for a 100 mile race and the other guy runs a marathon in sub 3 hours. I had the sense that I shouldn’t be running at their speed. We entered the hillier portion of the course leapfrogged each other as I powerhiked the uphills, which they ran, but I sprinted by them, leaping from rock to root and back on the steep downhills. What an exhilarating feeling! I stretched my arms out like they were wings and let gravity do all the work. I called it controlled falling.

After we had crested Tryon Mountain and exited the Bradbury Mountain State Park, we had a 2-3 mile stretch of road to cover before re-entering the state park. This was the fastest 2-3 mile stretch of the day as I ran it at 8min/mile pace, which felt so slow, because I didn’t have trees and boulder whizzing close by. I let the two fast guys go here and lost contact to them, which turned out to be a crucial error in regards to navigating. Just one mile after re-entering the park I must’ve taken a wrong turn. I had no idea, as I was still running on a marked trail and the I didn’t know what the trail should look like.

I ran towards a group of runners and thought that I must be doing quite good, because I knew they were behind me and must be on an out-and-back section of the course. More and more runners came towards me and I asked one how long ago another runner had gone by going my direction. He told me that there hasn’t been one as he was convinced that I was going the wrong way! I was turned around and almost back to the last aid station. Turns out, I climbed and descending Tryon Mountain an extra time before realizing my mistake.

At a stage like this your emotions are pretty raw as your heart rate is high and I was already 2-3 hours into the race. I was so angry at the trail marking and at myself for not studying the course better. I should known when to turn or when there should be a hill or not.

Lesson Learned: Study the course!

I had gone from 5-6^th place to 22^nd. Trying to make up a few spots, I used the angry feeling and powered up the next few hills and sprinted down at an even faster pace. Here it happened that I twisted my ankle as I lifted my eyes from the ground for a brief second to check out the upcoming turns. Big mistake. That hurt like a ^%#^$#!

It seemed very tender and I was reduced to a walk up the next incline. I took a couple of ibuprofen and tried stretching it in all directions. It seemed fine and I began trotting some before falling into a slow comfortable jog. I finished the first loop after a little over 4 hours.

Here I learned that none of the aid stations would carry gels. This is the primary source of calories for me during these long runs, as they don’t upset my stomach as they are pretty much pre-digested. In order to not bonk later in the race I stuffed my pockets with chocolate chip cookies and tried to drink some ginger ale and coca cola. Now my stomach would have to do real work. After an hour or so, and eating some hummus tortilla wraps and turkey wraps I was very nauseated and forced to walk a good portion of the next 10 miles. This ended in a few unwanted stops at the side of the trail throughout the rest of the day. 4 stops to be exact. I told Christina after the first stop that I had "lost my gloves" and she understood after a couple of seconds what I meant. Luckily it "warmed" up to mid 40s and I didn’t need them anymore.

Lesson learned: bring your own supplies and don’t rely on aid stations.

I was about half way through the race when I met Christina, Her aunt and Leiana and was able to change shirts, as mine never dried from the first miles of the day. I had gotten way too cold and it could’ve seriously put my race into jeopardy had I gotten too cold. It is funny how small trivial things can make or break you during a day like that. The cold could’ve finished me off, but the gesture of Christina bringing me a change of clothes and the new found warmth gave me another energy spurt and I was able to catch a couple of runners. Christina had also driven about an hour and half roundtrip to get me some gels, which truly helped me settle my stomach and allowed me to continue moving in a speed that resembled running at least a little.

Course Marking example

The turn where I got lost earlier in the race was now littered with trail markings, which is a good sign of the organizers that they reacted quickly and tried to prevent more people getting lost. Throughout the the race I had heard of more people getting turned around. It is part of Ultrarunning, but unfortunately it does not allow you to measure you running ability with others 1:1 if you can’t rely on the markings at the local runners have the advantage knowing the course in and out. In the spirit of the matter, I promptly missed another turn and ended up running along a boulder line that I knew was too far off course.  After a half mile or so, I ran into a couple of hikers who showed me their map and pointed the way for me. Only that after another 6-8 minutes I was sure that something was still wrong. I turned around and ran into them again, only this time asked to see their map for myself. Then I asked what time it was: 12:56pm (7hours 56min on my feet at this point). Therefore I knew the sun currently indicate south and I could navigate my way through the forest back to a trail that was familiar. There another runner for the 50K distance told me the right direction and we climbed Bradbury mountain again. This was also wrong. At least I knew from here how to get to the aid station. That same runner never made it to the aid station and got lost again. I met him when I left that station a few minutes later.

Lesson learned: bring a race map

The pivotal point of the day came at the aid station as I told Christina that I was thinking of dropping down to the 35 mile race distance and calling it a day. The extra miles and the emotional rollercoaster had taken their toll. My leg had began cramping and I still had 15.5miles to go. My ankle was throbbing and I had no desire to walk the rest of the way. She told me she wasn’t interested in hearing me whine later as she knew I would regret this decision. I had told her before the race that I never want to drop down during a race as I consider it failing the race I signed up for and I do want to set an example for Leiana to follow through what you set out to do. No easy way out.

The race directors asked if I was done and I told him I’d see him in 4 hours. I kissed Christina and Leiana good bye and stormed back up Bradbury mountain. I went fast enough that I actually beat Christina to the next aid station. I ended up passing the same runner for a 3^rd time today, even though I never so him pass me. That’s because he started ahead of me at the race beginning and must’ve passed me every time I went off trail. He was part of the running group that put on the race and we talked for a couple of minutes, before I decided to go for broke and run as hard as I could until I couldn’t run anymore.

I made the last aid station before the cut off where they require you to wear a head lamp again as the sun had begun to go down again and the forest made the visibility worse. I may have been better off taken that head lamp, but I ran right through the aid station. No mishaps at all on the last loop as I now knew the trail by heart and even though I could barely jog on the flats and had to hike the uphills, I could still fly down the descents. This got a little sketchy, because after my 8^th and final ascent of Bradbury mountain I could see that the sun had gone down and I needed to still finish another 10 minutes or so of downhill running in the impending dark. I got another runner’s high and was elated when I popped out of the forest and sprinted across the finish line to see Leiana smiling at me and Christina giving me a well deserved kiss.

Anxiously I awaited my medal, like a puppy waiting for a treat, but ended up getting a much cooler token. A sweatshirt for every finisher. That means that only people that finished this 50 miler could wear this shirt. You couldn’t buy it. And it wouldn’t get lost in a box somewhere like other medals. Pretty sweet idea by the race organization. My day ended after 12 hours 1 minute and 14 seconds on my feet. A new PR for consecutive racing and it makes me feel positive for my plans for longer races yet. I got 15^th overall and 2^nd in my age group. I feel that I need to come back and give this race my best shot. Better preparation, my own fueling, a map and I should be able to break 10 hours. Time will tell.

A couple of days later we flew home and I was happy that Leiana slept through the majority of both flights as my legs had been extremely stiff and I needed the rest. My ankle has started thr throb again, which is weird, considering it was fine for the 3 days after the race, but maybe my sore muscles numbed that specific pain and as my soreness recedes that pain can stand out. Either way, I haven’t run since and only gone on the treadmill for a couple of miles of uphill walking to flush out the legs. I’m already eyeing the next race and plan on running a couple of more marathons this year to add to my state total.