Run It Fast®

Saltines, Ginger Ale, & an Indomitable Will
(Finishing the 2011 Umstead 100 Mile Ultra Marathon)

Barely moving my legs, I think about my breathing and how labored it is. At times, I’m preoccupied with inhaling and exhaling. It’s so loud and disturbed sounding. I wonder why I’m breathing like this and whether or not it’s helpful. I’m also curious as to what my pacer Kelley, is thinking. For about two seconds, I’m slightly embarrassed by my noisiness. By the third second, I could care less what she thinks or what anyone else thinks.

I ask myself, “Do I really need to be breathing this heavily?” So, I stop breathing heavily and settle down by focusing on each step. I’m amazed by how ponderous each step feels and how variable my rhythm is at this point. I know I’ve become slow, but the reality is it’s so slow that I’d rather not know my pace. Deliberately focusing on my steps causes my feet to hurt even more, so I decide that it might help if I resume the heavy breathing again.

When walking uphill, I’m taken aback by the strong pull in my neck and upper shoulders. I’m recalling that only a mere 10 miles ago, my neck wasn’t even bothering me at all. The pain is not unbearable but it forces me to stop and self-message on several occasions. At one point, I’m wishing that I didn’t have so many layers of clothing on so that I could really penetrate into the muscles to loosen them up. My mind wanders back to the car ride to Raleigh when I remember thinking that I really hope that this tight neck won’t be a problem in my event tomorrow. Being the overly confident and optimistic person that I can be at times, I shrugged it off, so to speak. I tell myself that by the morning, the neck will be fine. The neck will be fine.

At the final aid station before the finish, I’m wondering how in the world I’m going to get up the next climb. Even early on in the race, this hill is difficult to walk. I’m depleted and need to do something to feel better. I ask my pacer, Kelley, if she could please get me some crackers and ginger ale at this aid station. I’m really thinking that a couple of crackers will help me get up that next climb. I sit in the chair and Kelley hands me Mountain Dew and some saltine crackers. I’m finding it very challenging to place the crackers in my mouth. They are sticking to my lips and mouth so I decide that it’s critical to swallow Mountain Dew and eat the cracker simultaneously. This sort of works.

I remember the aid station volunteer chatting me up about KEYS100. He’s an ultra runner and was graciously volunteering the night shift at this aid station. I wanted to chat with him. I wanted to smile and be friendly. But swallowing crackers and getting up that hill were the only things on my mind. I had to let him know in a courteous and desperate sort of way, that talking to him was not an option at this point. I’m on mile 94.5. I have 5.5 miles left.

Every single bit of every part of me is going to be used up to get through the next 5.5 miles. I know that I can do this. I don’t question as to whether or not I can finish. My brain and body have to go beyond what they want to do. I have no choice but to finish and I ask God for him to continue to keep me strong. Not finishing the event was never an option in my mind. I had everything I needed: My pacer who has taken care of me from 50 miles on, two crackers and some Mountain Dew in my stomach, and just 5.5 miles left. 5.5 miles to the finish line of the Umstead 100 Endurance Run.

Getting up from that chair was not that difficult. I knew that the longer that I sit in the chair, the longer I’m out in the cold dark and the farther away I am from the finish line. On any other day of my life, even when I’m having a really bad running day, 5.5 miles would be fairly effortless. On this day, 5.5 miles is an infliction of pain on my body and I’m not looking forward to it.

Getting up the series of climbs that I was so concerned about was arduous, to say the least. My neck and shoulders were throbbing and plodding uphill felt like my quads were being crushed with every step. Even though I looked forward to the downhill because I could actually run, I needed to tiptoe and blurt out with every step, “Ouch, Ouch, Ouch…”. My feet were sore and tired. If they could talk, they would be telling me to sit my butt down and enough already.

Even though the temperature was around forty degrees, if felt like below zero. I already had on a tank top in addition to three long sleeve layers at this point, however, I was shivering uncontrollably. Kelley had a green hooded coat and generously gave it to me. I zipped it all the way up and pulled the hood over my head. Running with a heavy headlamp and hood was confining but getting my body warmer was a higher priority. Moreover, I discovered that picking up the pace would help warm the body so I forced to do this at times when we were on flatter sections of the course.

With just a few miles left, I kept asking Kelley if were getting closer. Even though this was my eighth time running this loop, I still could not recall how much longer we had until the finish line. Knowing that we were getting closer, I attempted to run rather than walk. If I only walk, it will take longer to get there. I needed to make myself run.

Everyone seeks some form of comfort upon finishing an extreme endurance effort such as this-perhaps gatorade, food, a bathroom, or a clothing change. I asked Kelley if she could please send me straight to the lodge by the fire upon finishing. I need to get warm. She reassured me that she would take care of me and not to worry. Her presence at this point put my mind to ease and the notion of being out on the course alone was a daunting one.

Running on the half mile rocky section to the finish was painful yet exhilerating. I kept asking Kelley, “Am I really finishing?, Are we really there?” Kelley responded with a resounding, “Yes! I’m so proud of you!”. On this final stretch, she screamed “Woohoo!!” to volunteers, crews, and other runners, letting everyone know that I am finishing 100 miles. As I crossed the finish line, I was filled with a variety of emotions. I looked at my watch and noticed that I finished in twenty hours and thirty-eight minutes. I felt overjoyed, wipped out, accomplished, thankful for Kelley, borderline hypothermic, and a a little delirious. I was overwhelmed yet quite calm and in need of warmth. I achieved what I set out to do and never gave up. I finished my second 100 mile foot race.

–Beth McCurdy
Umstead 100 Mile Ultra Marathon (2011)

2011 Umstead 100 Mile Ultra Marathon Race Results

I spent this weekend in Maryland at the First Annual Half Full Triathlon.  This event was the brain child of Brian Satola at the Ulman Cancer Fund to help raise money to assist young adults diagnosed with cancer.

Pre Race:  Several months ago, I was picked to run the half marathon relay leg on team Bec and Friends.  Bec Wassner is a pro triathlete.  Her twin sister, Laurel, is the only pro triathlete that is also a cancer survivor.  Both were racing as part of relay teams to show their support of the Ulman Fund.

Bec was our swimmer and Mark Raynault, also a cancer survivor, was on the bike.  Mark is about 6 years out from his blood cancer diagnosis.   I meet Mark at the Team Fight luncheon.  He is a wonderful guy who I hope to see again in the future (maybe I can talk him into teaming up again next year!)  At the luncheon, Brain presented a very moving video showing just what Team Fight is all about.  I hope a link becomes available.  Many were moved to tears.

Just before the video, I was asked to say a few words about my journey from cancer to over 110 miles in 24 hours.  I enjoyed sharing with Team Fight  just how running has helped me through my own recovery and has shifted my self image from one of “cancer patient/survivor” to “athlete/survivor”.   I also explained how the Ulman Fund personally helped me get back on my feet by giving me a scholarship.

Race Day: There was over 1000 participants.  100 were cancer survivors! The start was a time trial wave start which meant swimmers were release in pairs every 2 seconds and sent off in group by age bracket or other designators.   The wave for Relay was one of the last to go.  Bec is incredible and swam her .9 mile leg in around 21 minutes, passing many of those released into the water well before her.

Mark took off on his 56 mile bike leg.   Mark was undertaking an incredible feat by racing the longest race of his life for our relay.   He did ride the course two weeks ago in about 3:45.  We were hoping that he would be back by that time or sooner.  I showed up in transition at 11:10 am, just 3 hours after he set off on the course.

While waiting for Mark, the leaders came in much later than anticipated due to a very strong head wind slowing everyone down.  I was hopeful that Mark could still pull off a 3:45.  At the 3:30 mark, I got ready to race and tried to stay that way.  It is terribly hard to be ready to race when you don’t know when you are going to start.   Like most bikers, Mark was running late and by 4 hours I began to worry.  Chatter started about flat tires, popped chains or other things that could go wrong out there.

Then suddenly I felt a sharp pinch under my arm, like someone stuck me with a safety pin.  Oh man! I just got stung by a bee (twice!)   Not sure if I was allergic, but knowing my dad is, I began to have a mini panic attack.  I watched the area and I felt fine while standing.   I was just not sure what would happened when I started getting my heart rate up.  The double loop run course had lots of police and volunteer presence and that helped me feel a bit at ease.   About 20 minutes after the sting, Mark came explaining that he did get a flat.  (I’m so sorry that happened Mark)

I wasn’t the least bit disappointed in the delay because I knew that I was feeling less than prepared to crank out a speedy half.   My ACL was not perfect and I was told the course was challenging.  I truly just wanted to finish the race with a good effort and hopefully stay sub-8 pace, chalking this up as a nice training effort.  Generally I don’t worry about whether or not I will finish a half, but if my ACL got too painful, I knew I would have to stop.

I took off out of transition and I was moving well.  It felt good to run fast until I started up the first little hill.  I could feel my heart pounding and hear my wheezing.  I started to get scared!  Oh no, is this anaphylaxis!  There isn’t even another runner nearby to help me!  I looked at my arm and the swelling had appeared to have gone down.  Then I hit mile marker 1 and saw it a 6:57 on my Timex.  Ha ha!  That explains it.  My heart is pounding and I can’t breath because I am running a lot faster than I should be.   I just needed to slow down.

Soon, I caught up to some others and tucked in behind a guy with a smooth stride.  We hovered at 7:30-7:40 per mile until the next water stop where he slowed and I passed.  The course was rolling with some truly substantial hills, the kind that make you question whether you can run to the top without walking a few steps.  I was pleased to never need to resort to that.  But if I had just come off a 56 mile bike ride, I probably would have walked half that course!

By the second loop the down hills and any sharp turns began to take a toll on my knee.  I slowed down my pace to see if I could reduce the strain that was starting.  It pained me to see some splits well into the 8’s on those last climbs, but today wasn’t the race for me to damage myself.

But when I saw that 12 mile mark, I decided to just open it up until the finish.  As I approached mile 13, I suspected I was in the mid-7’s.  I was happily surprised to find my last split was 6:53 and my fastest of the day.  I kicked hard into the shoot to finish in about 1:42.  There really is nothing more exhilarating than finishing strong and one thing Triathlete do well is set up a finish line!  Carpet, flags, flowers, fences and a gigantic framed in digital clock!  This sure beats the old standby shoot made from a few traffic cones and some police tape that I’ve seen show up at few good ol’ foot races. 😉

Overall, Brian did a fantastic job directing the first Half Full Tri.  Sarah was incredible at the Ulman Fund info table, interviewing and posting videos of willing participant explaining why they are at this event.   Katrina was another amazing Ulman Fund person I got to meet as she ran around with her camera snapping race day photos soon to be published online.

I feel honored to have been a part of this event and hope to return next year ready to rock those hills.  It honestly almost makes me wish I owned a bike!  🙂

(Please keep the Ulman Fund in mind when considering which cancer foundation to send a donation.  http://www.halffulltri.org/ or represent  Team Fight http://www.ulmanfund.org/Get-Involved/Team-Fight.aspx at your next event!)

Hinson Lake took place just one week after the NC24, the National 24 Hour Championship.   Boy do I wish there was just a little more time between these too events.  It seems that most people prepared to run substantial mileage would have chosen to do so at Nationals.   Therefore, seeing any impressive performances at Hinson would really be a wonderful surprise.

Tom Gabell is the RD of Hinson. The course is a 1.52 loop around a lake with one well-stocked aid station at the start finish area.  This year there were over 200 participants, making this race (what I was told by my friend Ray,who is likely the most reliable source on all thinks ultrarunning) the largest 24 hour event in the country.

It is obvious that Tom and his wife put on this race because they love the sport.  For a $24 fee he provides everything that a race costing 3-4 times that amount would provide, except chip timing.  As for timing, Tom recruited his family and they tracked us by tallying up our laps on a board.  The same person is your lap counter all day and with each crossing of the start/finish, you are greeted with a “I got you Shannon (or No. 7), that was lap #___ for you”.  I like this system 100 times better than chip timing.  Not only do you begin every lap knowing just what you have done, you also get your own personal cheerleader.  🙂  The volunteers were so fantastic that at one point, I changed my clothes, forget to pin on my bib, and STILL my countered called me out by name to tell me lap number.  Chip timing has nothing on the old school way.

As for my race, I am still recovering from the 75 mile run I completed last week.  I had low expectations, but that will not stop me from showing up.  I was hoping the soft clay surface would be forgiving on my knee.  I stopped last week when I felt pain building in my ACL.  There was just not enough time for my ACL to fully recover and I felt it early in the run.

This course is quietly sneaky in that it is much more challenging than it sounds.  Although generally flat on a non-technical trail with some short boardwalk bridges, the course seems like it would be rather fast.  However, there was one incline of significant length that was comprised of deep sand and some other shorter sand traps along the way.  In the addition to the sand, the temperatures, reaching as high as 96-97 as per some reports, added to the challenge of the day.

The unstable footing of the deeper sand immediately aggravated my ACL.  By laps 2, I began to experiment with some taping.  I did find that the tape helped enough to get me through half a loop, but increased pain would occur on the way in.  I would RICE for a few minutes, start to feel better, readjust the tape and then try another loop.  Eventually, it became painful to bend my knee at all and I figured that was enough messing around.  I believe I logged about 25 miles.  At that point I reverted to my original plan and purpose for going to Hinson, to crew for Jim.  It was great to see him reach the 100k mark in what turned out to be a tougher than expected race.

In consideration of the sandy trail and the 90 degree temperatures, Mike Morton’s performance is mind-boggling. Steady and strong, he strided along appearing quite focused all day.  Early on many people were not sure who he was and just what he thought he was doing putting about 15 laps on the second place guy in the first 12 hours of the race.  I tend to not get too excited about leaders since the 24 hour is about survival (and as I personally know, a great 12 hour run does not often make for a great 24 race).

However, as Mike approached his 66th lap, it was truly exciting to see him complete over 100 miles at just under13:15.  I feel lucky to have been present to witness such an amazing preformance!  The only question left was whether he could keep on going for the 40 more miles more he would need to make one of the three remaining spots on Team USA!

Mike was clearly in this for the duration and eventually went on to log about 154 miles!   This would have been good enough for 2^nd place and an auto-entry into Worlds had he been present at NC24.   I would even guess that had he raced last week, in much cooler temperatures and on a flatter and faster surface, he would have logged well over 154 and the race between Serge (last weeks winner at 156) and Mike would have been incredibly fantastic to watch (since Serge was slow and steady and Mike faded hard in his last 4 hours).

As for me, Hinson is keeper and I look forward  to returning next year.

Thanks for reading,

Shannon

On September 18, I ran the North Coast 24 Hour Endurance Run.  This race was the National Championship, which means the top 3 men and women who run at least the national standard (135 miles for men and 120 miles for women) earn the right to compete on Team USA in the World Championship.  Dan Horvath, the RD, did a great job putting on a fantastic race under what I assume was a tremendous amount of pressure.  Thank you Dan!

The race was held on a 0.9 mile asphalt loop in Edgewater Park in Cleveland, Ohio.  To most people, and even some runners, the idea of running all day on a short loop seems incredibly inhumane.  However, I find the short, flat, traffic free path ideal for a 24 hour.  I appreciate that it permits access to aid more often than needed.  The flat, fast course has tremendous record setting potential.  The short loop also makes for an extremely spectator friendly event, allowing even those participating the chance to watch the excitement as it unfolds.

******

It was not until mid-July, that I discovered my foot pain, which had shut me down at almost every ultra in 2010, was from an actual treatable condition.  I had two plantar fibromas; two marble sized masses of scar tissue on my plantar fascias.  These little lumps made walking uncomfortable and running ultimately painful.  About 2.5 weeks ago, I finally had the fibromas injected with cortisone.  A few days later, I was suddenly able to move without the foot pain I had been living with for most of 2010.

Unfortunately, two weeks of pain free running would do little to make up for my lack of higher mileage training.  Intellectually, I understood that I was insufficiently trained for a great 24 hour run.  However, I tend to believe that anything is possible.  Accordingly, I devised my pace plan for 120 miles.  My goal for this race was NOT to run as far as I could in 24 hours.  Rather, I wanted to run as far as I could on pace for 120 miles in order to collect data about my pain, fatigue, hydration, and fueling.

******

Crews at races on short loops are seem unnecessary unless you are trying to set some type of record, even if it’s a personal record.  I enjoy the company and my crew consisted of Sidney and two wonderful friends, Tony and Jim.  They put up with a lot from me, like me yelling stuff at them each lap.  (“I need my shirt, mashed potatoes, two Endurolytes and a bottle of water on the next lap!”)  At one point, I overheard a guy say, “Wow, she’s demanding!”  I am sure I am while racing.  After all, it’s a race and if I am going to have a crew, I am going to tell them what I need.  Crewing is hard work and I can’t thank Sid, Jim and Tony enough for helping me have a great race!

******

When it comes to pacing, everyone has their own plan.  I can’t resist my urge to run just a little too fast for a few loops before I settle down into my pattern.  The fast loops help me burn off some nervous energy, get a lay of the land and decide where I want to walk.  It may not be wise or efficient, but it is what I do for now.

After a few laps of running too fast, I started to focus hard on slowing down.  It is incredibly ironic how I fight to slow down while knowing at some point it will become too hard to run fast enough.  I planned for 6 loops per hour for the first 12 hours and then a fade.  Several hours in, I had already banked about 30 minutes.  It was getting hot and I was feeling dizzy, so I decided to cash in on some of that time.  I took a seat to eat, drink, and assess my needs.  Once I stopped moving, I discovered just how dehydrated I was.  In one swig, I drank a 16 oz bottle of water and then whatever Sid, Jim and Tony handed me.  I believe there was some iced-tea, OJ, a gel, and two Endurolytes.

Suddenly, among the gels, bottles, and candy all spread out on my little table, I noticed the pop tart.  I am sure Sid was eating this before I came though, however it looked good so I took half with me and walked about a 15 minute loop since I was just too full to run.

That break was the best thing I could have done for myself.  Once I started to run again, my pace had gotten back down to the low 9’s per loop.  It was at that moment, a new plan was born: Five loops at 9 then one loop to eat, drink, and walk it off with a pop-tart.  If I kept that pace, my walk breaks would tap into my banked time and by 12 hours I should be just even with my pace plan.

This pattern kept me extremely happy.  In fact I found myself smiling the entire time.  After 8 hours, I could see people starting to suffer.  Still, I was feeling like I was flying on a combination of a pop-tart sugar rush and a runner’s high.  At 9 hours in, I hit my 50 mile split.   At 10:54, I saw that I surpassed the 60 mile mark.  I already did much better than I expected I would do.

******

It was at about 10 hours in that I started to feel an odd twisting sensation in my right knee.  The twisting was causing pain which led me to plant my foot in an unusual way.   By 11 hours in, pain was shooting up to my lower back.  After12 hours, I stopped to fix a blister and my crew urged me to see the medical staff.

The medical guys were amazing.  My stinging blister was repaired with some diaper rash cream.  My back pain was stretched out of me completely.  I eventually met Dr. Lovy, who stretched me out, assessed my situation and determined that I was exhibiting signs of low potassium.   He suspected that the low potassium was creating the weakened knee, so I was given some potassium, a pep talk, and then some test were done on my knee.  Unfortunately, it was found that my ACL was overstretched due to a combination of low potassium and pressure from the small loop we ran only in clockwise turns.

After a few slow loops, the doctor gave me an insert to adjust my gait.  A few more loops with the insert and it was too late.  By this point, any pressure from walking or running created sharp relentless growing knee pain.  After spending so much time with the medical staff, I knew I had to run 4 loops per hour to reach 100 miles.  I was walking just slower than that pace and still had pain.  The pain was slowly increasing with each step.  So I stopped at just under 75 miles.

******

In the morning, as I watched the last of the survivors incredibly pushing themselves into the World Championships and personal bests, I became inspired.  I saw there was about 15 minutes left of the clock.  I decided go out for just one more lap to see how much damage I did to my knee.  I tried to run a little and it was still quite painful.  This confirmed that stopping was a good decision.

******

In these races, there is nothing better than being on course at the sound of the horn.  It is as if the entire park collectively breathes a huge sigh of relief as all the little blocks of wood are dropped to the pavement marking the final place each runner stopped.  The tortured grimaces that were worn by those fighting for every last step twist into painful smiles. Runners, no longer in competition, turn to give out sweaty hugs and pats on the back to each other.  Everyone then hobbles like zombies to some chair somewhere in order to feel the sweet reward of finally removing their shoes.

At breakfast, only minutes past the horn, runners reminisce about the race, which now seems like it started forever ago.  Just when you think people are going to swear off racing forever, conversations turn to “So what’s next for you?”…“Oh, you’re racing that one too!”… “See you next weekend!”

For me, I plan to meet many of those I raced with last weekend at The Hinson Lakes 24 Hour this weekend.  Depending on the knee, I may run a few laps or try to beat 75 miles.  If I can’t run, then I will crew for Jim who will get to repay me with his own ultra demands, most likely for Nuun tablets, his homemade ice bandana, and possibly bacon.

Results from the NC24 can be found here: http://www.northcoast24.org/

Congratulations to all those who made team USA!

[photo by James Plant]