150 Miles is not 200. Naughty McNaughty Boy

I want to start out by saying that I will attempt stay away from rationalizing. My wife keeps me in check in that regard, which I am grateful for.

So, could I have made 200 miles given better weather conditions? I don't know ... and it doesn't matter. I was able to complete 100 miles in 28 1/2 hours and felt great. Finished 150 miles in 51:06 (a 10 minute PR) and had close to 21 hours to complete 50 more. I chose to stop and be warm.

After whining to my good friend Glenn (via text) about the rain at mile 120, and no less than 6 1/2 hours of scattered sleeping, clothes changing and getting warm in our rental vehicle, I continued on to complete lap 13 with Shawn on her 12th lap. I ran the next lap and was feeling good running some of the small climbs and did my best on the down hills. Lap 15 started out good. The sun had come out on lap 14 so the extra clothes I was wearing was tied around my waist during that loop. I made a huge error in judgment by believing the sun would stay out and discarded my jacket and fleece at the start/finish area. Shawn and I left this loop together. Once we hit the switchbacks, a couple miles into the climb, it started thundering, raining and even hailing. Shawn gave me her light jacket as she was smart enough to keep on her fleece. I was paralyzed by the cold and rain and I told her to move on without me. She needed to as she was feeling pressured for time. I made it to the top ok and the bottom fell out of my morale as the sky opened up with it's evil greeting. I slogged through the river that was once simply a very muddy trail and made my way to the labyrinth nearly a mile away. The wind was fierce, howling and announcing it's tumultuous delight upon me. A dead man lie on the trail - no, just some logs. Now hallucinations shook me awake and fear stuck me in the heart once again. I don't hallucinate in ultras and this was truly a first. Was this dead man me, my vision caused by my fear of the cold and distaste for darkness? I trudged with purpose only to end up slowing again - the mud was too slick to stay upright and I was fighting mu. How is it that I logically understand how mu (the static coefficient of friction between objects) works and yet cannot make my feet and body cooperate by making the correct action and placement? The dark labyrinth approached me and consumed my being as it had on the previous 14 loops. But rather than spook me it welcomed and protected me from the wind and rain. I stood closely to a tree, hunkering down to hide from the huge rain drops that were still pelting me. I needed to warm a bit before heading out into the open field where the wind would have its way with me. I held on until the shivering stopped; deep breath; focus; move ahead. My aim now was the lonely shack on top of the course.


I would get behind it - that is, wherever the wind was not. Moving as quickly as possible I made for the shack. It protected me only a short time from the wind and she gust and splashed like the waves in the sea. I move around the structure to find a door, secured shut with a small latch. I opened the latch and went inside. There were two windows, one of which had a light plastic no longer covering it - but flapping in the wind. I tried in vein to recover the window. No need, I was staying warm. I found what looked like a flag that was used for some sort of game. Basically it was a thick, canvas cloth on a stick. I wrung out my gloves and dried my hands on the cloth. I then wrapped my gloves in the cloth and dried them some more. Next I found a couple of plastic garbage bags that were torn and no longer able to hold garbage much less anything else. I poked holes in both and dawned them. There was a small wood stove, some matches, but no wood ... not that I would have started a fire (as far as you know). I did light one of the wooden matches to get some warmth in my hands. The match lit but there wasn't much heat from it. I put it out and put my gloves back on. Time to leave. I mustered all of gumption I could and said a short prayer for the courage I really needed to head back out.

The plastic was doing it's job. I held on to it much like Marylyn’s dress in the wind. The steepest part of the descent was here. I moved as best I could trying to stay upright. Once in more of a flat section, I attempted to run. By now, my feet were hurting - the first time since I started the race. I attributed this to cold and stiff Achilles muscles and arches. I had a couple more failed attempts at running and realized I would have to walk the whole way down at this point. I would probably take me 2 hours to travel the 4 miles downhill. I moved with not too much ease and focused primarily on my breathing to suppress the shivering. If I started shivering, I would lose control and give in to panic. I continued this way and hoped for at least a short glimpse of another running with whom to commiserate. One passed, just flying by. It would be another 2 1/2 miles until I saw another. The walk was ok but allowed me to make decisions about my race. I decided I wouldn't put myself in this position again, at least not this weekend. I would get warm and dry if I could make it back alive (mellow dramatic? maybe, but that's how I felt ... alone and scared). I determined that if I was not going to go back out during the night, I would not have enough time to finish. So I would have to see if it would dry up. I was finally passed by Jess and Mike Siltman and one other runner - all within a mile of the start/finish line. I eventually made it back and told whoever was there that I was going to warm up in the car for "a while," not wanting to drop. It was 9pm and that loop took about 4 hours. That was by far my slowest loop and yet I was surprised that it was only 4 hours. Maybe I'll get warm and go back out. The rain and wind convinced me otherwise and I took off all of my clothes and changed into my post race sweats. Time for a nap almost an hour in the car by now. Shawn showed up at 1am finishing her 15th loop. I had had a 3 hour nap but darkness, wind and rain were disinviting me. She warmed up and headed back out. I turned over and went back to sleep. I was awaken by Shawn's return from her 16th loop or so I thought. She was not able to continue after heading out a couple of miles and so turned around. The morning came with some daylight and a little snow flurry which lasted for hours. It was at this point (if not before) that I decided I didn't want to just run as many loops as I could because I didn't have enough time to finish. There was no point to it. It would just lengthen my recovery time unnecessarily.

I give the advice to others to work on their weaknesses and/or fears with regard to running. If the hills worry you, work on them - unless of course you don't want to. I have a difficult time following my own advice. I am a terrible technical downhill runner, so I work on that - unless I don't want to. I don't like running at night, so I like to have a pacer during 100 milers. Or I find course with loops so I'm not so lonely. Darkness belongs to the evil one and I have no desire to run with him. While doing my 15th loop I thought about why I would want to keep doing 100 milers when I don't like running at night. Maybe I won't run Plain this year. We'll see. My biggest fear is dying by hypothermia or freezing to death. It's such a real fear to me that I wouldn't attempt my first 100 trail run without first running it at some other venue. So I ran a few 24 hour runs instead. My fear was that I would be out somewhere, the middle of nowhere, probably lost because I do that, walking because I couldn't run anymore, and would eventually freeze to death from exposure. So I should work on that right! I have no desire to work on running in cold weather. ABSOLUTELY no desire to run in the snow - I'll leave that for my wife. I could and should work on being better prepared to run in the elements. Better rain gear including waterproof gloves. I will work on that.

Will I attempt to run 200 miles again? Emphatically Yes! And probably next year. Will I run the McNaughty 200 next year? Likely not. But it's the only 200 miler in the country you say ... hmmmmm, that does present a dilemma. I'll have to either make up my own race, "run" the STP bike race route, or find another venue were I can prove to myself that I can do it. Then what?

I turn 50 this year (October 1st). I'm too old for this; should stop after completing 200 miles - that is if I can complete it; take it easy, right! Pssh, I think not. So should
I conquer 200, what's next? Well duh, 300.