Saturday, March 14, 2009

2009 Delano Park Ultra

2009 Delano Park Ultra Marathon
Decatur, AL
March 14, 2009
Official Results


March 14, 2009 will be forever remembered in distinct parts with a wide range of emotions from beginning to end. Leaving home well before daybreak to returning long after sunset, it is amazing how much can fit in between.

This Saturday was the 3rd running of the Decatur Park Ultra Marathon, comprised of 50k/50mi/12hr events. The race is held in Delano Park, which has a one mile gravel loop in the center of the city, where athletes running counter clockwise circles. Eric Schotz, Jon Elmore and the rest of the River City Runners Club of Decatur, AL host this great event.

With a goal race of the Boston Marathon coming up in a few weeks, but still wanting to be involved in this event, I decided to run in the 50k race. I had not logged many long runs over 20 miles this spring, so I was using this as a long training run done at race pace. Most people were registered for either the 12 hour or the 50 miler, but I wanted to be able to recover faster than the aftermath of running all day, so it seemed to work out. Of course I could rationalize just about anything when it comes to running. The real reason I wanted to run was to see if I could break four hours in a 50km; I'm not afraid to say that, now.

Early Stages

The 12 hour event got an early start in the dark at 6am, while we did not start for a full hour later. I arrived early for packet pick up and to wish those going out early well wishes. To accurately describe the conditions could be described simply as wet. It had rained steady over ht previous 24 hours and part of the gravel base course were significantly under water. In places, the water was ankle deep, while in other places, it was puddled creating no clear line to run along. Dink Taylor called the conditions 'unfavorable.' Based on this picture of Jamie Donaldson, I think you can get an idea of how bad it really was.


The forecast was for more rain, heaviest in the morning, and clearing by the afternoon. Eric Schotz's father was performing grounds crew duties by channeling off water from the course with a shovel/hoe, but it was pooling faster than he could handle. These conditions meant that wearing newer road shoes as planned changed last minute and now I would be sporting my INOV-8 Roclite 295's. I had run for several hours in them, but they were not ultra tested yet so I was a little nervous how my feet would hold up with these shoes featuring minimal support.



At the start of our race, I asked for show of hands on how many people were running the 50k (as opposed to the 50mi) and it was sparse; maybe five. That meant that I would mostly be on my own in pushing the pace and holding on as long as I could. I decided that not being properly trained or tapered, I would go out strong and put time in the bank for later. The main goal was to break four hours and I would be thrilled with any time faster than that.

So I went out hard; 6:33 in the first mile. I knew that this was too fast, so I tried to slow down. My second mile was 6:31. I knew that this was too fast, so I tried to slow down. My third mile was 6:34. I had bypassed the warm up and gone from sitting down in the truck to marathon pace within minutes and three miles into the race, I was fully committed to chasing a personal record for 50 kilometers and chasing a soft course record at the same time. I was committed. The result would either be success or failure.

It was difficult to run slow while being out there running loops and seeing my friends over and over again. I would slow a little and then see someone else, either cheering or in passing and pick up the pace again. So this was the way my first 10 miles went in the early stages. Despite trying to slow down, I went through it in 1:07:15 or at 6:43 pace. I was running strong, with good form, and building off of everyone that I passed. I would soon pay for my poor planning.

The First Wall

The weather was getting worse, then better, then worse again. It was no longer possible to stay dry. I was wet, and chilled to the bone from head to toe. The grounds crew was now working overtime on the course, but as a hundred runners continued to loop the course, it got treacherous in sections. On the out and back add-on (to make it a certified mile) grass section, the mud was strong enough to nearly pull off tightly tied shoes.

Laura (my crew) was now at the race and had already given me my second shirt, which stayed dry for about 10 minutes. I vowed to make a conscious effort to slow down and try to get into a comfortable, sustainable pace. My next five miles were run at 7:26 pace, each slowing more than the next. I was starting to feel my lack of taper and too many miles in my legs. It wasn't until this morning that I went back to see that I had put in 85 miles in the previous seven days; I should have treated this more like a target race and cut back and now I was paying for it. Again, another valuable lesson that I will take forward in my next ultra distance race.

There was a guy flying along the course at what could only be relay or 50k pace. He passed me like I was standing still. For a quick minute I tried to stay with him, but that lasted about 50 meters and I realized that I could not hold the low 6 pace that he was on. I have to admit that this was a little mentally defeating watching him run strong and realize that I was no longer winning the 50k.

I once described an ultra marathon as equal parts endurance, mental capacity and fuel/hydration. Now 15 miles into the race, I was struggling to get my fueling right, my legs were tired, and I wanted to quit. In other words I was failing at all parts of the race with well more than half way to go. Even so, I was still under seven minute miles and nearly half way through the race. I had already started to do my 'worst-case' math, or calculating how slow I could run and still hit my target of under four hours. Once I start with calculating my demise, I know that I'm in trouble. My emotions could best be described as desperation.

Pushing Through

I ran most of the next mile, but stopped for several minutes at the Fleet Feet trailer (mobile aid station) and wallowed for awhile to anyone who would listen. I logged a 9+ minute mile and was falling apart at the seems and seriously considered calling it a day. I managed to muster enough motivation for one more mile and it was back around my average pace. This lasted just one mile as I had another self deprecating mile 18 where I think I even went into the trailer and sat down. My split was 9:43 and I was a warm blanket and a venti white mocha with no whip away from dropping out. I usually go through these spells in ultra distance events, but today it hit me hard.

I think that this race was more difficult mentally because I knew that after I was done running, I would have five hours of rest before coming back to pace with Jamie Donaldson. She is a national class ultra level runner on the US 24 hour team, training for the world championships, held in Italy on May 2-3. She had come in from Colorado to run Delano as a tune up and had inquired to Eric for pacers after noon, when they became allowed. I had promised Jamie and Eric that I would take the last two hour shift which meant anywhere from 12 to 14 more miles. Jamie had been running strong all day and previously had mentioned that she may want to pick it up in the last two hours. Knowing that I did not want to let her down, I was starting to wonder if I should drop out so that I could be strong for her later.

On one lap, I had passed her and introduced myself and then on another I asked her about her strategy late. She proved her valor when after I told her I was considering a drop due to how I was feeling, she said that I should focus on my race and not worry about her. Most runners would be selfish, but she was more interested in me having a good day, than her having a pacer later in the day. This really provided some motivation for me to keep running.

In this hour, I also took in the advice of a good friend, Rob Youngren. He told me that I should just grind it out and that I might come out stronger on the other side. I took his advice as an expert and pushed on. I now had 20 miles in the books and started to wonder if I could just hold on for another hour and a half for the finish. I was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. My emotions had changed to being hopeful.

Turning the Corner

I had been struggling with proper fuel all day as my stomach as just not accepting the Powerbar Gel Blasts. I had moved on to experimenting with actual food on several laps. I was eating single bites out of 1/4 cut peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches. For hydration, I was alternating between Nuun Kona Cola with water and Gatorade Endurance with some success. I also was supplementing with some S! Caps for salt to ward off any cramping. I think that these little mouthfuls of real food were my elixir as I really started to turn the corner and feel better.

At mile 22 I asked Laura to check with Eric and find out how slowly I could run the last nine miles and still hit my four hour goal. After coming around again, she said that it was slower than 8:30 pace. My day was getting better and better and this was just the news I needed, as I knew that I could hold that speed or better coming home.

I managed to run the next 10km at under 8 minute pace and was no longer stopping every mile looking for someone to latch onto to pull me around the course, which I had been doing for awhile. I ran a lap with Dink Taylor, with Tim Vinson, with John Nevels and a few others to keep me going. I was starting to believe that I could do it; my endurance was there, I had the fuel/hydration figured out and now I was conquering the mental demons that haunted me through the middle stages.

Despite shoes that were weighted down with water and enough mud that made the branding unrecognizable, I had gone through the marathon in 3:16 and change. This was a tremendous lift to my spirits, knowing that after a miserable stretch of time where I wanted nothing more than to walk off the course, that I still ran a nearly Boston Qualifying marathon in conditions that I would not wish upon my worse enemies.

It was about this time that I also found out that Mr. Fast Guy from New York with family in Madison, AL was not running the 50km but the 50miler. This gave me a tremendous boost, as I knew that I was leading the race and that it was mine to lose. My emotions had changed to being excited and very motivated.

Bring it Home

I had steadily gotten stronger since the middle miles and now was a mere five laps away from the end. I could visualize the finish, which meant that I was now mentally strong again. There was little room to slow down or walk now, but with less than 40 minutes to go, I had the drive to hang on. As each lap went by, I raised my left hand in the air and verified with Eric Schotz of how many I had left. From five to four to three to two and finally to one. Somehow he was there under the pavilion, sitting at the computer each time, and was able to confirm my number.

It is a long story that started at Mountain Mist and then continued at Black Warrior, both 50k's that I have run this spring, but I have had a knack to drop a high 6 or low 7 in my last mile and do it without a shirt. In each race before this one, temperatures where in the 40's at the finish and most people figured that I was just crazy. On this rainy and cold day, running without a shirt also warranted some strange looks as I went on the bell lap. I stayed with tradition and as I went out for one more fast lap, I stripped off the shirt and dropped the hammer.

On Tuesday nights at the track, we have one rule: No matter how many intervals we are doing, the last one has to be the fastest. If not, then you have to keep going until it is. Now on this day, I didn't think that I could drop a middle six after running 30 miles, but I pushed hard to run a low 7. As I came around the long downhill stretch, I opened up my stride, picked up the pace and finished strong. I crossed the line not knowing my time, but that I was well under my four goal.

Later I would learn my time was 3:53:54. Over 31 miles, that is a 7:33 average pace. I had set the course record. I had won the 50k race and in the process, had shattered my 50k PR by 22 minutes. I'm glad I took the advice of friends and kept going. Upon finishing, my emotions had changed to exuberance!

Yet my day was far from over. It was time to switch modes from race to recovery.



The Recovery

After some well deserved chocolate milk to aid recovery I got some help from my crew to put my compression socks on and change clothes. I had less than 5 hours to recover before running again. We meddled around for an hour or so, hanging out in the trailer and cheering runners on as they ran past. I iced my left foot to reduce some of the swelling and took a few more Tylenol. That made six for the day, giving me room for two more before starting to run again. I devoured a chicken sandwhich from Chick-fil-A for nourishment and began to count down the hours.

I had serious doubts over being able to run anymore. My calves were tight and my foot was throbbing. I was trying my best to recruit people to run with Jamie in case I couldn't go. She started running with Paige Dorr after 12 and had plans to run together for 22 miles. Paige is heading to her first Boston Marathon this year, so this was her own tune up for the race. Lap after lap, Paige ran with her, smiling every second of the way. I talked with her a few times and she had agreed to take her to 27 miles, becoming an ultra marathoner on her own. That meant that I was on as scheduled.

My emotions had once again run the gamut from so much excitement at the end of the race, to true concern toward the end of the recovery that I would be able to honor my promise to Jamie.

As much as it hurt, as stiff as my legs had become and as much as my left foot throbbed with pain, I was going to keep my word and run with Jamie for as long as I could and pace with her. I knew that I would regret it if I couldn't go for two more hours, as I would be letting her down and letting me down too. I am a man of my word.

Pacing Jamie

And so at just after 4pm, Paige dropped off from her pacing, Jamie took one lap alone and then I picked her up. We proceeded to run for 200' and she had to use the restroom, her first stop of the day, and the first time I had seen her NOT running all day!

Jamie and I ran together for 6 miles in the first hour, clocking just under ten minute miles on each lap. We talked about everything under the sun, including our dogs, the weather, compression socks, sponsors, races we had run, and so on. We had a blast, sloshing through the mud and having a blast.


With about an hour to go, we hooked up with Rob Youngren for a few miles. Little did Rob know, but I had been telling Jamie stories about each of the runners that we passed, including Joey Butler, Blake Thompson, and Rob, speaking the praises of each runner. For Joey, it was his shear determination to keep going when he was clearly in pain and had never gone over 50km. For Blake it was how he conquered his first 100 miler last year. For Rob, it was about the 100+ ultra he had run before he was in his 30's. So when we got to Rob, Jamie had all kinds of questions for him on his ultra running career.

On a parallel thread, Jamie had mentioned to me in an email that if she felt good, that she may want to pick it up in the last hour. Having Rob run with us and the chatter between them, was an excellent time to gradually pick up the pace and try to run each of the last six miles at negative splits. We were nearing the overall leader, a rookie at the 12 hour distance, and I figured that if we could keep shaving tie on every lap, we could not only pass him, but pass him decisively and put the win away for Jamie.

So her 73rd mile was 9:47. Her 74th mile was 9:33. Her 75th mile was 9:30. Her 76th mile was 9:15. In these four miles, we ran slightly faster each mile, we passed and lapped the leader and virtually assured the win for Jamie. Rob continued to run with us for these miles and it was great to have additional company.




As we crossed the starting line near the pavilion, the clock read 18:40 for time remaning, so we would have to run 9:20 pace or better in the last two laps to finish them both before the clock expired. I reset my watch so that I could keep us on pace and we took off. Jamie dropped her bottle off and we ran out hard. We settled down by the half mile mark, but still her 77th mile was 8:54.


As we took off for the final lap, all of the people who remained at the park, had gathered around the finish, waiting for her to come back around. Jamie got very focused and determined, mentioning that she was not going to talk in the last lap as we pushed hard into the finsih. I knew that we had the mile in the bag, but kept reassuring her that we would get the mile in before the clock expired. In this lap, I ran in front of her, setting a slightly faster pace to make sure that we did. I joked with her that she couldn't give up on me now, as she fell back a few seconds off the pace as we were within minutes of finishing.

Making the last corner, the emotions were riding high. For me, it was the feeling of having run more miles in a single day than I had ever run. I also had this overwhelming feeling of shear joy for Jamie, that I got the opportunity to run with her. I told her that I didn't want to get sappy, but that it was an honor and my priveledge to have worked with her in the last two hours and to have met her. We shared a high five and then as we came down the final stretch, I told her to take off and that I would slow down, so she could bask in the glory of the win.

She ran the last mile of a 12 hour race, after having run 77 previous miles, in 8 mintues and 43 seconds; her fastest lap since mile 30. She had broken the female course record and learned later that she had tied the overall course record at 78 miles.

As I crossed the line, I stopped my watch and after a few shaky steps, tried to soak it all in. Although I had finished my race 7 hours earlier, I felt like I was finishing all over again. After my first 31 miles at 7:33 pace, we logged 12 more miles in 1:57:09 or 9:46 pace. In total, that made 43 miles in 5:51:03 or at 8:10 pace for me. I have to say that I really didn't 'feel' anything at this point. I had not sunken in what had just happened, what I had just done. Despite the pain that would soon set in, I would later be eternally thankful for those who encouraged me to stay running in the morning and will never forget going back out to run with Jamie in the final two hours. How many times in your life do you get to run with a world class athlete?

Awards and Pot Pie

Back at the church, Eric, Jon & gang put together a great feast that included the most amazing pot pie I have ever had. Topped off with some superb chocolate cake and enough Sunkist to float a boat, I was stuffed. This race has a great awards atmosphere, because for the most part, it is just friends hanging out, telling tails from the day and sharing in the bond that ultra runners have when running all day.

Thanks go to the Race Directors (Eric Schotz and Jon Elmore), the River City Runners, my wife and crew (Laura), my motivators (Rob Youngren, Marty Clarke, Dink Taylor, John Nevels, Blake Thompson and so many others), all of the aid station workers people who cooked the post race meal (CostCo for that awesome pot pie) and others that I forget right now.

Here are the winners of the 12 hour and the 50k, both setting course records on this day.


Here are the awards given out for winning the 50k. I love this hat! I wore it to bed later that night.


Mushy Stuff

Looking back over this day, I still struggle to put it all into words, though I certainly have tried. With that said, I don't think that I did any of it justice. The highs and lows, the ups and downs, the mud and slop, the M&M's and the PB&J, etc. You really had to be there. Even if you were, every person went through there own range of emotions, which makes this event such a powerful experience.