Grasslands from the other side of the aid station table

Over the last four years, I have run in a couple dozen races, trail and road.  I'm a little embarrassed to admit that today was the first time I have volunteered to work at an aid station in a race.  If you've ever run an organized race, you know how important the aid stations can be.  When you're trudging down the trail, especially late in the race, and you come around a bend or emerge from the woods to see the aid station, it's a welcome relief.  Today's runners expressed their appreciation repeatedly for our aid station, an oasis in their journey through the LBJ National Grassland.

Elliot was quick to lend a hand wherever needed.

I somehow convinced Elliot, my 12-year-old son, to get up and leave the house at 5 so we could drive an hour to the middle of nowhere to serve water and pb&js to hungry trail runners.  He was a great sport, up and showered before I was even out of bed.  He stayed engaged with the runners, actively helping out throughout the day, jumping up to fill water bottles, slice oranges, and offer words of encouragement.  I'm sure he could have thought of other things he'd like to have done on a Saturday, but he said he had a good time.

The weather was gorgeous today, but it did get rather warm toward midday.  Quite a contrast to the sleet and freezing rain during my 2010 DNF (see my post here).  Conditions were much better today, sunny and breezy, getting up into the 80s by the afternoon.  According to the runners, the trails were very runnable, but the mud caking their shoes and legs told the story of some muddy portions.  

We enjoyed hanging out with fellow trail runner, Steve.

From my view at the Red Ant aid station, Paul Smith and the North Texas Trail Runners volunteers did a great job, as usual, putting on this race.  I enjoyed being on the other side of the table for this one, but look forward to getting back on the trail soon!

My 50 milers

After my DNF at Palo Duro, I have been reflecting on my ultrarunning record.  I'm slowly crawling out of my post-DNF depression, but still rather disgusted with myself for quitting.  It especially hit home after reading about Bart Yasso's race at Comrades in South Africa and his long history of running through pain (article in Runner's World here).  He has lyme disease yet has continued to race and to inspire others.  But I got a little hot and discouraged so I quit. Wah, wah, big baby.

So here is my illustrious record of 50 milers:

• October 2009, Palo Duro: finished 13 minutes before the cutoff.  I probably would have laid down on the trail and quit if I hadn't met up with Brett, who was also running his first 50 miler.
• February 2010, Rocky Raccoon: finished in just over 11 hours.  Not a bad finish, but my ankle hurt so badly I went and had it x-rayed the next day.  Nothing there, I'm just a big baby.
• February 2010, Cross Timbers: a tough, hilly course, especially compared to the relative flatness of PD and Rocky.  I finished in about 15 hours, close to setting a course record.  The only slower time was set by a man in his 70s.  I probably would have quit this one, but I had to keep going to get back to my car.  I was probably not recovered from Rocky, 2 weeks before.
• March 2010, Grasslands.  I quit after about 19 miles.  It was cold, wet, and muddy.  I still felt like a wimp, even though only 7 of the 70 starters finished.
• October 2010, Palo Duro: quit 1/2 way through.

 Not exactly a steller 50 miler resume.  Part of my problem out on the course is the gradual loss of motivation.  I start thinking, I gave up a whole weekend for this?  I could be hanging out at home, playing with the kids, watching college football, working in the yard or around the house.  I missed soccer or football or judo!  I could take Kelly on a date!  And what's the point anyway? 

So, contrary to a recent post, I'm not going to plan on the 100k in Bandera and the 100 miler at Rocky.  I'm not saying I'll never do another 50 miler.  Part of me still wants to run a 100 miler, to try Western States or Leadville.  But part of me says, too, I could just go someplace pretty and run.  I don't need to pay a fee and get a number just to experience a nice trail.  The trail at Palo Duro is great; I love to run it, and it's got some great views.  But one lap gets you all the views and trails.  The next 3 are more of the same.

I'll start running again soon, and I'll probably sign up for another race soon.  I'm still planning on running White Rock since I'm already registered, but after that, I'm not sure what I'll run next.

8 Hour Run from the Ducks

Saturday I spent a lovely, wet day at Clark Gardens Botanical Park running from the ducks, peacocks, geese, and some other fowl that may have been a guinea hen.  It was the 4th annual Run from the Ducks, my first, and my first timed run, in which you run as much as you can in the allotted time.  I was skeptical about this format, but decided it would be a nice opportunity for a training run looking ahead to Palo Duro Canyon.

The Race
Run from the Ducks is run by Tony and Carolyn Mathison and their daughter Cayla, along with a race committee of volunteers.  It showcases the lovely Clark Gardens, and raises funds for The National Vietnam War Museum. Tony, an ultrarunner himself, starts the race by drawing a line in the dirt with his toe (in Saturday's case, in the mud).  At then end of the day, he recognizes every runner (he and Cayla put on a chip and walk the course a bit so that they are the last place male and female runners; he doesn't want a registered runner to be in last place).  The course tours the gardens on dirt, grass, and gravel in a .854 mile loop.

In the past, Vietnam vets from the area counted laps, but this year they added chip timing, which probably made it a much easier day for the vets.  There were still several there to cheer us on.  (On a side note, it crossed my mind that they probably endured rain and mud a million times worse in unthinkable conditions as they served our country in Vietnam.  A humbling thought. . . .)  Also present were Mr. Clark, the gracious namesake of the Gardens, and his daughter.  The family atmosphere, home-town feel, small field, friendly race directors and volunteers, and great setting make RFTD exactly the kind of race that I got into trail/ultrarunning to enjoy.

The day started out wet.  I woke up to pouring rain and lightning.  What a great day to sleep in!  But I dragged myself out of bed, confident that it was a passing storm.  During the drive west to Weatherford, the rain stopped, so I thought it was clearing up.  I was wrong.  At Clark Gardens, the rain continued with a vengeance.  Thankfully, the support tent was large and dry.  This is probably the only race I'll ever go to in which the support tent has chandeliers, carpet, and tablecloths.  (Clark Gardens hosts lots of weddings and receptions.)  We watched it pour, watched the lightning, and waited for a one hour delayed start. 

We finally did get started at 8, not that the rain had stopped.  It continued to rain for about 2 1/2 more hours.  Needless to say, we got wet.  The raised beds at the gardens did a nice job of retaining the water--on the trail!  Even after the rain stopped, we splashed through the mud and puddles all day.  But it stayed very runnable; even the worst muddy spots were better than the best spots at Grasslands last spring. 

So we ran, around and around, all day long.  The weather cleared up, but it didn't get too warm.  The one aid station (a logistical advantage of a short, repeating course--fewer aid stations to stock!) had plenty of the usual supplies.  Passing by there, and by the support tent where I had some other supplies, once every .854 miles, made this an easy race to run.  In many ultras, you might have 5 miles or more between aid stations, so you really have to think, what will I need over the next hour or so?  At RFTD, if you get hungry or thirsty or need something else, it's always less than a mile away.

This is a great race for people who love timed races, obviously.  I spoke with several runners who have run similar races and love them.  For those who don't love them, it's a wonderful way to try ultrarunning.  If you have run a marathon and want to try a longer distance, this a perfect setting: flat, even course, accessible aid stations, friendly folks, and the ability to stop at any time.  And in my case, this serves as a perfect training run for a longer race, getting in time on my feet with support provided.

The Racers
One of the things I enjoy about these events is getting to know other runners.  RFTD is especially well-suited for this since the course is so short; even if someone is slower or faster than you, you'll eventually see them again as you lap each other.  So I got to visit with some nice folks:

• Dan--who said he weighed 400 pounds 2 years ago, had gastric bypass surgery, and now competes in endurance events to raise money for childhood obesity awareness.
• Thomas--who runs marathons most weekends, sometimes 2 a weekend.  He's a machine.  If I remember correctly, he ran the Rocky Raccoon 50 miler in February, then ran a marathon the next day.
• Buddy--an experienced ultrarunner, he paced for Drew Meyer at Western States.
• Jeff--another experienced ultrarunner and Leadville 100 finisher.
• Robert--who was running in his first ultra.
• Katrina--who's leaving in 2 weeks for Iraq, serving in the Air Force.  Won the women's division.
• Claude and Andy--who kept running by me like I was standing still, and who finished 1st and 2nd. 
• Deborah and Tammy--who were on the race committee.  Both of them like to race in timed races.
• Carlos--whose wife sat out there ALL DAY cheering him (and me) on.
• Ken and Lorri--the only married couple on the course (as far as I know). 

My Race
I set out to finish 35 miles.  I figured I could do that, and if I had a great day I could break 40.  I started out pretty well.  The first 4 hours I ran a lot with Jeff, Buddy, and Robert, eventual 4th, 5th, and 6th place finishers.  I enjoyed talking with them, and picked up some racing and training tips, but after a while, I took it a bit slower.  The second 4 hours, I had segments where I ran well, but couldn't keep up that pace.

With the wet conditions, VFFs were a good choice to run in.  I stopped once about 5-6 hours in to clean them out; I think the only shoes that wouldn't have collected mud and gravel would have been waders.  I did get some chafing in some personal areas, even using my cream to prevent it; when you're that wet for that long, it's hard to avoid!  Overall, my body held up well and I was even able to walk the next day!

So what did I learn?  I was reminded that my biggest weakness in ultras is nutrition, and maybe hydration.  I am quite sure I didn't eat enough, and I may not have drunk enough.  At about 4 hours, I ate a sunbutter sandwich, which sat in my stomach like a stone.  I subsequently had some cramping and 2 too-long potty breaks (one additional benefit to a small loop course--the potty is never more than .854 mile away, and it was an actual bathroom with plumbing, not a skid-o-can) which slowed me down.  By the end, I was doing a lot more walking than running. 

The bottom line, I ran 37.05 miles, according to my Garmin.  Official race results, 10th place overall, 43 laps, or 36.722 miles.

Is That a Runner?
Sometime after 7 hours had passed, I was walking along, counting the minutes to the finish.  A little boy, maybe 3, came the opposite direction with his daddy.  He asked his daddy, "Is that a runner?"  I'm sure I didn't look like a runner, but I was running on the inside!!

8 hour run tomorrow

It has been a long time since I have run an organized run.  My last races were my Grasslands DNF in March and the 5k at my kids' school in April.  Tomorrow I am going to run a race I said I would never run, the 8 Hour Run from the Ducks in Weatherford.  As it happens, Elliot will be gone for a puppet competition, so I'm off the hook for soccer, so I thought, why not, this will be a good training run for Palo Duro.

I had said I wouldn't do this run because it sounds so boring.  For 8 hours, I, along with about 40 other runners, will run laps on a .854 mile loop.  The winner is whoever runs the most laps. 

The good:

• It's in Clark Gardens Botanical Park, so the scenery will be lovely, even if it's lovely again and again.
• The anticipated slow pace and short course guarantee lots of opportunity for interaction with fellow runners.  Like a cocktail party on a track, except with Gatorade instead of martinis.
• The race benefits the National Vietnam War Museum.  That's got to be a good thing, right?
• A long training run with support. Much easier than a long run where I have to carry all my food and water or stop at convenience stores.

The bad: what could be bad?

It is supposed to rain tomorrow, but that will keep us cool.  Should be a great day!

If you're really bored, you can track my progress through the day here.
And of course, check back here for a full report afterwards.

Mudlands follow-up

The official results are now posted here for Grasslands 2010.  I was in good company with my DNF.  There were only 7 official finishers out of about 70 starters of the 50 mile race.  The DNF percentage was lower for the marathon and half marathon, but both of those races had a much higher DNS (did not show) percentage.  I guess there is an inverse rule of racing: the lower the mileage of the race, the higher the likelihood that the runner is reasonable enough to know when to stay home. 

Immediately after the race, I felt like a loser, a quitter, a failure.  There is still some of that lingering, but it does make me feel a lot less bad knowing how many other people dropped out.  One experienced ultrarunner I heard from came from Lubbock but didn't even get out of the car!  He knew better than to get out in that cold and mud.

The worst thing about dropping out is I can't complete the 50 mile grand slam.  There's always next year.  On Monday I got an e-mail from the Palo Duro race organizers announcing that registration is now open for that race in October.  It's the first in the grand slam series.  Maybe I'll give it another shot. . . . .

Here are some more pictures (from the NTTR race site) to give you an idea of conditions.

This is Don Rice, who paced me for a few minutes at Cross Timbers (while pacing his wife).  He finished the course at Grasslands, but came in a few minutes past the cutoff, so got a DNF.  Stink!

I have no idea whose feet these are, but love the picture of the trail.

Imagine running on this for 50 miles!

DNF at Mudlands 2010

I've officially registered my first DNF (did not finish).  From the middle of the pack at Rocky Raccon, to a last place finish at Cross Timbers, to a DNF today at Grasslands, my decline has been precipitous.  I don't really have any excuses.  I just lost my will to go on after the 19 mile start/finish aid station, so I turned back, got my BBQ sandwich, and went home.

I should say first of all that this is a terrific race.  I love the casual atmosphere and the well-stocked, well-manned aid stations provided by North Texas Trail Runners, the race sponsor.  Race directors Kevin and Stacie Boudreaux are to be commended for their hard work in hosting the race.  Great job by them and the many volunteers!

Char Thompson, NTTR President, and Tia,

who will be so happy that I posted this picture.

I ran the marathon at Grasslands last year so was looking forward to returning for the 50 miler.  Today the weather was a big factor in the race.  At the start, it was raining pretty hard.  That didn't last long; it soon turned to sleet, which I guess is an improvement, since it just bounces off you.  The rain and sleet ended within an hour or hour and a half or so, but the heavy rains overnight on the already saturated ground took their toll on the trails.

One thing I love about trail running is the variety.  Instead of running on a consistent asphalt or concrete surface, as in a road race, you get a feel for more varied terrain.  Grasslands certainly offered a variety: there was brown mud, red mud, and black mud, sticky mud, sloshy mud, slippery mud, packed mud, and flowing mud, muddy streams running across the trail, muddy streams that were the trail, muddy pools on the trail, and muddy trails through muddy pools.  There was grassy mud, and muddy grass.  Oh, and every now and then the course followed short parts of muddy roads.  And in between all the muddy sections, there were more muddy sections.

Yeah, it was muddy.

Besides the mud, it turned out to be quite a bit colder than I expected.  It started out in the high 30s, I suppose, and I fully expected it to warm up as the day went on.  It didn't.  It became progressively colder and windier.  I was wearing only shorts, a long-sleeved shirt, and a parka.  As I left the 19 mile aid station, I realized I was almost to the point of shivering.  Between the cold, the mud in which I could hardly walk, much less run, and the simple desire to get home and spend some time with my family, I decided to call it a day.  About 6:45 it started snowing at my house, about 40-50 miles southeast of Grasslands, and had gotten much windier.  I'm glad I was not out on the trail, dressed as I had been in the morning.

So I came home and showered, then spent the afternoon and evening with my family.  I did some laundry and cleaned up the kitchen.  Zippy and I went to Gamestop to get a new video game.  We all watched Baylor's awesome NCAA tournament victory over Old Dominion--Sweet 16 here we come!  We had dinner together.  I put the boys to bed.  I went to bed with Kelly at a decent hour.  And I had to ask myself, in what universe would I really rather be cold and miserable, slogging through the mud, trying to reach a finish line 50 miles away?