During the three weeks leading up to Forget the PR I felt my energy levels plummet. It began with a sensation of being a bit more tired than usual; then I was down-right exhausted; the exhaustion became a certainty that I was over-trained; until eventually it was obvious that something more was going on. No amount of sleep or skipped workouts was helping. In fact, I was growing more fatigued with each passing day. I wasn’t able to recover from even the mildest of workouts. While I have yet to diagnosis what the hell is happening to me physiologically, I do have a few ideas, which I am narrowing down one at a time. Blah.
Needless to say, the outlook for any race- let alone an event as badass as FTPR- wasn’t good. So I did what any runner would do- laced up my trail shoes, pulled up my big boy britches, and went for it.
As was the case last year, this edition of FTPR was to be my last long run in preparation for O24. This strategy worked out great for me last time around, leading to a 108 mile finish at Outrun. I also had the secondary goal of finally beating my first year PR of 6:17: 29 on Rob’s FTPR course. Considering the way I was feeling in those weeks prior to the event, this seemed like a pipe dream.
My wife, as always, took amazing care of me. We had a stupid-early morning in order to make the two-hour drive in time for the race start; she drove so I could sleep. Helping out when and where she could in the start/finish area as she waited on me, Ang was waiting with a smile between loops, anxiously checking in with me on how the trekking pole holder she’d rigged up on my pack was working; filling my water bottles; reminding me to stay hydrated in the quickly rising temperatures. I can’t ever begin to say what a treasure it is to have a spouse who is so tuned in to my needs.
I opted to use a trekking pole for FTPR again this year. In 2015 I carried one pole for the first loop, which worked out great, except I fucking hated carrying it on the few flat sections of the course- especially the “long” flat stretch between the covered bridge and the State Park campgrounds. Ever since then I have been discussing with Angie what we could rig up to carry the pole when I didn’t need it. (And by "we", I mean her, because I have no skill at projects like this). I wanted something that would make the transition as smooth as possible. Most of the designs we found would require me to stop moving- so Ang just came up with her own design! It was brutally simple, actually. With a small Velcro loop attached to opposite sides and ends of my pack, I was able to slide the trekking pole relatively quickly into them, without needing to collapse it. I can do this while power walking, but I’m not coordinated enough to pull it off while running. At any rate, it worked like a charm, so I was in business with my pole…uh..huh,huh. My pole.
When using a trekking pole, I hear a wide variety of commentary regarding it. “Nice stick, man.” “Using a pole, today, huh?” “How’s that cane working out for ya, old man?” Interestingly enough, the thing I heard most at FTPR was: “You’re just using one?” Admittedly, carrying just one seems weird, and took a little getting used to, but I hate having both my hands occupied during a race. I’m looking to do the grueling 100 mile race, Uwharrie, in the fall, where-in I will definitely be using a pole, so I’ve been training with it for quite some time. It worked out great at FTPR, enabling me to power hike the hills with much better form, and at a much greater pace. It was like a magic wand during my second trip up Big Ass Hill.
After making my way through the gigantic restroom line and taking care of business, I headed over to get checked-in. The 25K line was huge, but the 50K line was empty. Hooray! Between the restroom and registration I must have spoken to a dozen or more running pals. When I found my wife, she was talking to a group of runners she’s come to know well from her time spent crewing me at various races, and through our 50s For Yo Momma and Not Yo Momma’s 100 events. This is my favorite part of FTPR, and of the ultra/trail scene as a whole- the camaraderie. Hundreds of familiar faces, and hundreds more potential friends. So cool.
The 50K race began with a quick message from super-RD, Rob Powell. Runners made our way up to the start area. I was chatting with a couple of ultra beasts- Annie Lang and Lauren Kraft- when suddenly everyone was running around us. Whoops! We had completely missed the ready, set, go moment. I fucking love ultras :)
Away we all went. I settled into a slow and comfortable pace, as my plan was to run conservatively for the first (18 mile) loop, and see what I had left for the second (13 mile) one. Immediately the fatigue I’ve been feeling caught up with me, causing me to wonder how the hell I was gonna do this. I quickly kicked those thoughts in their ephemeral nuts, focusing on the beautiful day and the next small section of the course in front of me. By the time I'd reached Big Ass HIll, I was feeling better. Ironic, isn’t it? The gladness of running with my “stick” washed over me as I power-hiked BA and his little brother, with a nice, fast downhill stretch in between.
As I approached the Fire Tower aid station, around 6 miles in, I ran into George Themelis. We chatted for a few minutes, laughing at how we have been Facebook friends for a long time, but rarely have had the chance to speak in real life. We ran the last small hill into the aid station together. At the FT, Robbie Gannon and family were there with smiles and water. Seeing these guys helping out at races always boosts my spirits. Here’s a family who’s getting it right. You guys rock!
At the aid station I took a minute to strip off my long-sleeve shirt. There was still a nip in the air, but the temps were already rising steadily. It was immediately apparent that I had made the right decision. Aaaahhhhhhhh!
Cruising the nice downhill, I discovered I was feeling much better! Then I missed the freaking turn at the bottom of the hill, but immediately realized what I had done and turned around. A quick two miles later and I was greeted by so many happy people at the covered bridge that I dare not list them for fear of leaving someone out. Huge thanks to you all!
Everyone took great care of me, even braving my sweat - soaked shirt that I had stuffed in my pack, in order to fish out the Ensure stashed in the bottom.
I have been determined to work Ensure into my arsenal. During training runs my stomach has coped well with the dairy delight. Unfortunately, I haven't had any luck using it while racing. This was my last (failed) attempt. I had been feeling pretty damned good until downing the Ensure. Almost immediately afterwards my gut was like, “What the fuck did you just do to me, asshole?! Oh, you're gonna pay for that shit!” And pay I did. My stomach never fully recovered, and the first 6 miles of loop two were pretty awful.
At the start of loop two I grabbed my Ipod and plugged into the Nerdist Podcast. I'd like to give a special shout out to Chris Hardwick, John Cusack, and Kevin Bacon for talking me out of my own fucking head for those awful miles.
By the time I had made it back to the covered bridge, the two Gas-X I had consumed had worked their magic. I was leaving a trail of noxious green vapor in my wake, but by - God I was feeling better!
The section of this course that runs from the covered bridge back to Mohican Adventures has always been torturous for me. A large part of it is really, really flat, and call me crazy, but I'll take climbing over flat any day. Knowing this, I decided to pay closer attention and even note the mileage my first time through. I'm so freaking glad I did this. The entire section is less than four miles, with only about 2.5 miles of flat. Boy had a built it into some kind of nightmarish hell-land that it just isn't.
I walked out of the covered bridge on the last loop, schpritizing myself with ice cold water while chowing down on a delicious gluten free snack bar. The sun was working full bore on this loop and many runners were battling dehydration. Thankfully I had managed my own needs well, consuming plenty of electrolytes and wiping myself down with an ice-water soaked rag at each aid station.
As soon as I hit the woods I was able to start running pretty well again. Knowing I had less than four miles to go, I kicked in the last reserves I had and managed to maintain a pretty decent pace all the way to the finish. I kissed my pole...again I say, bwaa ha haa. .. and thanked it profusely for helping me up the last couple big climbs.
Ultimately I finished in 6:18:14- 45 seconds slower than my FTPR PR. Ain't that some shit?
However, I got my awesome five year buckle and was super happy to be able to run much stronger than I thought possible that day.
I celebrated with Frosty-dipped fries and a bacon cheeseburger. Mmmmmmmmm, nummy!
Thanks so much to my amazingly fantastic wife, Angie. Without her, none of my insanity would be possible :)
Thanks also to Rob Powell and his wife Johnna, and all the amazing volunteers. You guys make this a top-notch event year after year.
O24, here I come!
