Dizzy Goat 12 hour / Nebraska (10/50)

Dizzy Goat 12h

Schramm Park, South Omaha, NE

6:42am… I’ve decided to sit down to calm my nerves. I’m going through my mental checklist for the race preparations. Granted I’ve completed this list 5 times already in the last 10 minutes, but I can’t think of a good reason not to. I’ve got my personal aid station set up:
Drinks: check.
Blister kit: check.
Energy gels: check.
Extra socks: check.
Extra pair of shoes: check.
Hat: not found. Crap.
Band Aids: check.
Sun Glasses: check.
MP3 Player: check.
Many more things that I have never needed before, but who knows: check.

No shirts means fast guys 

6:47am… Next to me sit two other guys. They look fast. There tends to be a “fashion trend” for guys that are taking ultra-racing serious. The more efficient “outfit” or the less you care what you look like (no matching shoes/shorts/shirt), the more other racers can expect that you will be giving that race your utmost.

Well, these guys wore shoes and shorts. That’s it. A bottle in their hand and a watch on their wrist. As if we called each other the night before like high school girls matching outfits. I knew these guys were fast. Little did I know I’d be seeing much more of them throughout the day.

Breaking the silence, I asked what mileage they were going for…

{See, this race was a timed event. It’s not like other ultra-marathons, where you see who can run fastest over 50 miles or so. Here, you run for 12 hours and see who can go furthest. My goal was to set a new person record for distance. I’ve never run further than 50 miles (well ~52-54 due to some bad turns in a couple of races, but that’s neither here nor there). I’ve run for more than 12 hours before. Actually, it was around 12 hours, 2 minutes or something like that, but I covered only 50 miles that day. The elevation gain during this race in Maine was too much for me, and getting lost didn’t help either.}

…ANYways…

Calmly they state “60ish” and “yeah, about that”. I confidently say: “same here”. Again, they looked fast. If they go for 60, I ought to go for 45-50. I’m quiet now. Re-thinking my entire race strategy. Forecast shows a high temp of ~93F and ranges of 88-93 for about 11am to 4pm of the race time. I hear people talking about “banking mileage” before it gets hot and then hanging on. I have a tough time re-planning my race, simply because I don’t want to red-line for 4 hours to get a high mileage and then zombie walk for 8 hours just to finish. Contemplating other peoples’ race strategies made me actually more confident. Their plan does not seem to fit for 12 hours of racing. I’ll let them go at the beginning and will catch them later. It’s not a sprint, it’s a (ultra)marathon.

6:52AM… the race director addresses the 12 hour racers. Going through the traditional pre-race speech, I look at my watch, which shows my heart rate. See, my resting heart rate is 47 beats per minute. I’m standing. It should be slightly higher. Hmm…103 bpm doesn’t seem right. Ohh duh, nerves. Alright, now I got really nervous and actually saw it climb to 118 bpm. I sat back down. Closed my eyes and analyzed my training. It hadn’t gone ideal by any standards. Having recently raced the Kalamazoo Marathon in Michigan, I strained my right knee and it still bugged me. I took off hard training for a full month and only did easy mileage sparingly in between. That’s not really what you want to do when you build an endurance base for a long-distance race. Also, the night before I ran barefoot around the yard and stepped on a perfectly placed rock that shot a sharp pain through the skin and muscles all the way through the bone (that was 2 months ago and I still feel it!). All night I couldn’t bear weight on my heel. I slept with an ice-pack taped to my foot, hoping for any kind of relief. None was to be had.

4:30am… (jumping back in time)… the alarm goes off. I quickly throw my phone across the room to shut it off. See, I didn’t want to wake the wife and baby. I am nice like that. I get up on my way to the bathroom and have to immediately sit down. My heel was bruised heavily. I had to walk on the ball of my foot. Great. How about running for 12 hours today? Sounds like fun.  

4:55am… I’m out of the door. It’s pitch black out and I am stuffing a banana and granola bar down my throat. I have a hard time eating this early with a race coming up. But I’ll need the calories. It’s about a 30 minute drive, but I need to find something to take care of my heel. I stop at a total of three gas stations to get something to cushion the inside of the shoe to relieve some pressure from my heel. I ended up with some tissues and electrical tape J.

6:53am… I’m sitting. Feeling the home-made heel-cushioning device in my shoe (patent-pending!), I finally calm down. I take the stress out of the race, because it’ll be impossible to race 100% today. Therefore, I will simply go out and enjoy the race.

7am… On the dot, the race gun goes off. Run a 3.25mile loop as many times as you can in 12 hours. 600 feet of elevation change per loop (that’ll add up, trust me!).
I was in the first row. No reason to run 30 extra feet from the back, it’s a race after all. Within 15 seconds I was relegated to 25^th place or so many others took off as if they were running a 5K. Believe me, it’s very hard to hold back. All the adrenaline that you’re dealing with. The whole anticipation from the weeks of training specifically from this one event, and now I need to make myself slow down.
It helps that I’ve run a few ultras by now, as I also started off fast in my first ultras, only to truly suffer towards the end.

The section around the Start/Finish area was flat and paved. You didn’t have to watch your steps, so I used to opportunity to take inventory off how things felt. Heart rate strap felt a little tight, but was ok. Shorts were comfortable (two gels stashed in the back pocket). Had to run on the ball of my foot, which is a concern. This will strain my calves more than I have trained thus far, but I can’t put weight on my heel, so there is nothing I can do about it.

The two guys I sat with earlier, are way out of sight. So much for “same here”!

I strike up a handful of conversations throughout the first loop as people pass me and I’m passing others. Trying to get the first loop completed without expanding too much effort. My goal was to run each loop around 35minutes, and forcing myself to talk to people helped slow down.

I reach the end of the first loop after only ~28 minutes, which is reason for concern. The loop is about 5K, with said 600 feet elevation change, and 28 minutes is a decent 5K (especially if you plan on running 17-20 of them in a row!). I guess I’m banking a little mileage after all. However, I have to address my foot. Running only on the ball of my foot has caused a large hot-spot. If I don’t take care of it now, it’ll end up being a big blister within a couple of hours and can potentially end my race early.  I apply some Vaseline, tape it up to avoid future friction and take off one of my socks (I wore two pair to increase cushioning). I ended up changing my socks completely one more time a couple of loops later as I kept dumping ice-water over my head to cool myself down. That water trickled down into my shoes and my feet were constantly wet. Not an ideal situation to prevent blisters!

The next 8 loops go by un-eventful.

12:30pm…I’m on loop 10. Finishing this loop will put me at ~31 miles. We’re 5 and half hours into the race. Not quite half way done. Crazy, I know. It’s getting hot. I’m sweating like crazy and refill my water bottle every 15 minutes or so with pure ice and it’s melted completely by the time I reach the next aid station. Due to the heat and sweat loss, I make sure to consume a lot of salt. Because I am drinking so much water, I need to make sure to keep my body in balance and not suffer from Hyponatremia, which is just short of water poisoning.
I catch up with one of the two runners that I sat next to earlier in the day. We were greeting each other throughout the day as he ran towards me since he had started each loop before me (every 2^nd loop, you ran the other direction). He’d been struggling with the heat. I told him that I’ve noticed that my fingers have swollen a bit and my wedding ring is getting a bit tight. I’d been trying to remember for the past 20 minutes whether that meant I had too much salt or too little. So many things that you need to know about your body once you start running beyond the marathon distance. He explained that I must have too much salt, as it make my body hold onto water, which in turn makes my fingers swell. Seems reasonable. For the next couple of hours I chose gels with little sodium and the problem disappeared.
My new friend tells me that he plans on taking an extended break at the next aid station to get some calories and liquids in him and to cool down.

The aid station in the middle of the loop was awesome! different costumes overtime I came by. Unless I started hallucinating...?

It’s ~95F. Running the paved section towards the Start/Finish area seems like torture. I see other people run a longer path just to stay in the shade. I feel good though and keep going at a steady pace. Cicadas keep attacking runners on this stretch as well. They are huge, fast and hurt when they hit you. One runner cramped up when he jumped out of the way of one. I contemplated the extra energy expenditure each time I swiped one of my clothes. I finish the 10^th loop in ~5:57 hours elapsed and wait for an extra moment, so that the racers of the 6 hours race can start in front of me. Half-way done. Yay!

Christina and Leiana had waited for me and handed me my hat that forgot in the morning. I finally could put some ice into the hat and cool my head. This ended up helping me race as well as I did.

mid-race motivation! note the shirt on Leiana! >26.2!

Another 2 hours go by and the sun is just beating down relentlessly. Every time I come into an aid station I see runners that were far ahead of me earlier sitting on chairs refusing to go on. At this time I am in ~6^th place I think. I run by another racer and she enthusiastically yells: “Only 4 hours to go!”

Felling chased at the start line
 by the 3h racers

I finish my 14^th loop after about 8:57 hours. After an extensive ice-water-sponge-shower to cool off my head, I run towards the Start line. I hear the race director go:” 8..7..6..” and I sprint across the line. I was having some fun with the 3 hour racers. Several itched to jump the gun, but realize I wasn’t in their race. Therefore I was about 15 yards ahead of them as their mass start began. I smartly moved to the side of the road as they didn’t have 9 hours in their legs and the faster runners quickly sped by me.

I turn off my brain for a couple of loops and try to only focus on where my feet went, as now would be the easiest to get hurt by being careless and not watching the many roots that crossed the trail throughout.

I finish the 16^th loop at about 10:55 hours elapsed. I speed through the aid station as I am trying to finish the next loop by 11:30 hours, because otherwise the race directors doesn’t let anyone back out on the course. Running by the water spot I noticed another couple of runners that were sitting in the shade. They were ahead of me all day. Sweet. Just moved into 4^th place.
The 17^th loop goes by without a hitch and I come in at ~11:22 hours elapsed. I get to go for another loop. The 5^th place is right on my heel. I was racing myself and the time for 11 and a half hours, but I finally had a person to lock in on. Well, she did too. She actually passed on the first hill of the course (greatly named:” What the hill!”). She is looking strong and her pacer keeps her motivated. At the top of the climb I see her escape into the forest as I come around the last turn. My uphill legs were long gone, but I’ve always been able to go hard on the downhill, even after 10-12 hours. She had a good 30 second lead, but I caught up after the first downhill and stuck to her and her pacer’s heels. Catching my breath for a moment I contemplate my plan. I gotta look strong when I pass so that they don’t even think about chasing me. The ideal spot came up. A small downhill leading into an aid station. I pass on the downhill and put 15 yards between us and sprint through the aid station. My bottle is halfway full and I won’t need more water for the rest of the course. This immediately is

throwing caution in the wind on the final downhills

followed by a long uphill and my heart rate is spiking. I dumped the remaining water on my head. It’s warm. Not refreshing at all. I tuck the bottle into the back of my shorts, put my hands on my knees and power hike up the hill. At the top I resist the urge to look back. Only scared runners look back. If you see a runner look back at you, they are fearing that you will overtake them. I short flat section ensued and I am altering my running gait to avoid cramping. I am approaching a long downhill. I had grabbed my MP3 player for this last loop and the music (at 180bpm) matches my running stride perfectly. I am experiencing the most perfectly timed runner’s high ever! Nothing hurt. Adrenaline rushes through my veins and I’m basically freefalling downhill. Keeping only the minimum amount of contact with the ground to avoid eating dirt I run the fastest mile of the day. I cruise the last aid station and now I’m less than a mile from the finish. I run around the switchbacks fast enough that I need to hold onto trees with my hands as I take turns. Otherwise I would run down the deep end, and that wouldn’t be pretty. I pop out of the forest with a third of a mile to go and I put my head down and go for broke. Before crossing the finish line I see Leiana, Christina and some of her family who came to see the finish of the race. It doesn’t get better than this. I cross the finish line in 11:52 hours elapsed. 18 loops finished. 58.5 miles (~94km). 10,800 feet (3,6km) of elevation change. I stopped so abruptly that I needed a moment to catch my balance before hugging my family. What a race. I plan on coming back for sure! The other runner I sat next two earlier, had won the race for a third year in a row and was only 1 loop ahead of me (still, 3.25miles more!). I caught up with the runner I thought to be in 2^nd or 3^rd place, but he

informed me he only did 17 loops. That meant….I was 3^rd! Sweet! Podium! What an excellent end to a great day. I sat down for a moment and the saying “Beware of the Chair” came true. Once you sit down, you might not be able to get back up. I seized up heavily and finally noticed the two huge blisters that formed on my feet as well as my heel. I sipped on the slushie that Christina had brought and already began planning my next 12 hour and what I could do different to add another loop or two J.

One last note. My theory from earlier came true. Run in shoes and shorts and you’ll be fast. The guys I sat next to were first and 4^th overall. The 2^nd and 6^th place had the same “outfit.

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.