Let me get this out of the way first. I’m not going to lament over cancelled races, changed plans or lost travel opportunities this year. The one thing I am proudest of this year has been Amanda’s and my ability to change our focus and find purpose in new challenges. For Amanda it’s been a new focus on strength and functional fitness. For me, it has been an opportunity to spend a season becoming a stronger, smarter and faster runner.
My season started with an early spring solo 10k PR of 33:20 which
was a thrilling confirmation of my new training approach and sparked a renewed
love for going fast. I used that fitness to have some fun with Strava
challenges, culminating in a new fastest time on my favourite local trail over
some elite trail runners. Then I had some fun with a sub-7 beer mile that
doubled as a test of my GI training; an important piece of the puzzle for my
“goal event” of the year, my first ultramarathon.
I had initially planned to do a non-technical trail 50k as a
gentle introduction to ultra running. But in the words of my non-runner dad,
“that’s barely longer than a marathon, why don’t you do something longer?” Really
the goal event or distance was secondary to the process of learning and
preparing; I’ve been increasingly intrigued by ultras the past few years and
this summer was a great opportunity to explore the gear, logistics and training
approaches to something I used to think of as crazy or impossible. I also hoped
that it would provide a different avenue to sort out the severe GI issues that
have plagued me in every race longer than 3 hours in the past 5 years.
Throughout the summer I maintained good bike fitness at lower
than usual volume (5-6 hours per week), averaged 1 swim and 2-3 strength and
mobility sessions per week. But I bumped up my run mileage about 50% higher
than what I’ve done in past tri seasons, even when training for Ironman. I
averaged 85-90k per week almost entirely on trails through the spring and summer, maxing out at 115k. Still very modest in the world of ultra running,
but it was a sweet spot that I could consistently hit and I saw good fitness
gains without getting too worn down.
I ended up signing up for a virtual 6-hour event based in
Nova Scotia called Round the Lake. Mostly because it was sponsored by two craft
breweries. But the timing and distance lined up well with my training and I wanted a little extra motivation of being accountable to some kind of leaderboard. The goal
was simple – start at 8:00AM and cover as much distance as possible until
2:00PM. I planned some of the major logistics like fueling plan, starting point
and route options, but didn’t over plan the specifics to have some flexibility
during the run.
My run began with just about the most anticlimactic “race”
start ever. Even at an Ironman in which you know you’ll be out there until
almost (or after) sundown, it’s a pretty epic and energetic start. For my solo
ultra, when the clock ticked to 8:00AM I casually broke out in a slow jog and
waved to my mom who had come out to support.
I hoped that the first miles, better yet the first three
hours, would be relaxed and perhaps even enjoyable. It was a beautiful morning
– for now – and I felt grateful that I had the opportunity to face a new
challenge. But the anticipation of what was to come also weighed heavily.
Having looked at the weather radar before starting I knew we
were going to get slammed with storms at some point during my run, potentially
severe enough that I’d have to stop and seek shelter. After some pre-race
stressing I embraced the unknown as part of the crazy world of ultras. As I got
midway through my first 18.5km gravel road loop the black clouds slowly rolled in.
I couldn’t help but see it as a metaphor for the impending suffering I’d soon
be experiencing – unsure of when it would arrive or how bad it would be, but
sure that it was coming.
I knocked off the first 90 minutes as uneventfully as I’d
hoped – smooth and comfortable. I picked up a new set of bottles from Amanda
and my mom at our “aid station” under a pavilion at a local park and headed out
for a shorter 8.5k loop. I realized after leaving that I had forgotten a gel I
planned on taking, but made some quick adjustments and all was good.
I got back to the park again around 2:15 total time and was
still rolling well, but was already experiencing some general tightness and
soreness. I went out for another 8.5k to get back around 3 hours, at which point
I’d stop to refuel and change some gear. By now my luck had run out with the
weather though and I was caught in a downpour for the next hour. The rain was
almost a relief that I had something else to focus on for a while, but there
were some unnerving lightning strikes that came along with it. I kept a close
eye on it and my mom actually drove out make sure I was ok. But the worst of
the lightning stayed just barely far enough away, so I continued on.
When I got back to the pavilion at 3 hours and 37k done I checked in with my crew, which now included our friend Cheryl who came out to support and provide some much needed laughs on my journey. From all accounts my crew had a lot more fun than I did! I took a few minutes to drop my vest in favour of handheld bottles, and change out my soaked socks and shirt. I also switched to my Vaporfly 4% shoes, which I was hesitant to burn miles in, but they felt like heaven on my already trashed feet and calves.
I knocked off a couple
shorter loops in town and hit a marathon split of 3:28, but the highlight of my
4th hour was being briefly joined by Tyrannosaurus Cheryl. I almost
fell over laughing when Cheryl in her T-Rex suit ran over to me yelling
“Dino-mite!” I could hear Amanda cackling from down the road as I continued on
my way.
I stopped again at 4 hours just shy of 48k to fill my
bottles, and since the rain had let up a bit Amanda joined me on her bike for
the 5th hour. My longest individual run in training was 3:40 (43k on
trails), and longest total run day was just over 4 hours (a 50k double) so I
was trusting in my training that emphasized well-rounded run fitness and economy over very long/slow individual runs. My energy and mental focus were still
good, stomach was 100% even taking in a few more calories than I had planned,
but it was starting to feel pretty tedious.
I hadn’t done any walking yet besides my two planned aid station stops, but decided to do 10 minute run/1 minute walk for the next hour to hopefully save my legs a bit for the final hour. The walking didn’t really feel much better than running but at least it temporarily changed the stimulus…so other things could hurt instead for a minute. I was getting more intense waves of fatigue and pain in my quads, knees and calves.
Amanda was still riding with
me and told me to take it easy if I had to, which briefly reminded me of the
ridiculousness of this being completely self-inflicted. But I was still having
some good moments too and I really wanted to do justice to my first ultra
attempt; whether or not I’d ever do another, I wanted to really go for it and
see what I was capable of. I hit a pretty serious wall at 4.5 hours but I
managed it and kept moving forward.
I was around 58k at 5 hours and stopped again for new
bottles, some food and a quick mental reset. I got myself going for another loop
through town but by now I was firmly on the struggle bus. My quads were shattered
and cramped on every step, but when I walked my hip flexors would lock up and
were equally painful. I hit 60k around 5:14 and decided I would suffer through
laps of the 1.3k gravel path around the park to finish off.
My dad and brother came out to give some words of encouragement
as I hobbled past, then Amanda and Cheryl, along with our dogs, joined me for
the final 40 minutes around the park. At that point it was the most acutely painful experience
I’ve ever had running – not from injury, just the prolonged effort and muscle
damage from nearly six hours of running. My Ironman runs have been
exceptionally difficult from overcoming GI distress, nausea and the general
fatigue of racing for 10+ hours, but this was a different kind of misery.
I was still motivated to get as far as I could but with
about 15 minutes left I had to stop and sit again for a brief
respite from the pain. I wanted to just let the clock tick down as I sat there,
but I got going again and figured I could get two more laps of the park done
before the time limit. It was really ugly, and if not for my epic support crew
I may have just lied down in the grass and cried myself to sleep. But they kept
me going right through to the end. At 1:59:58PM - I didn’t want to go over and
get DQ’d! - I stopped my watch at 66.62k. For the data junkies that worked out to
5:24/km overall average, 5:12/km average moving pace and an average heart rate
of 138 (about 74% of max).
I was extremely grateful for my awesome crew who endured a
long rainy day supporting me and made my run infinitely more fun and
successful. I was proud of myself for persevering and getting the most out of
myself with absolutely no extrinsic reward. And I was thrilled that my new
approaches to training and gut challenges resulted in the most comfortable
(stomach-wise) I’ve ever been in a long distance event.
But the lasting memory I’ll have from my ultra debut was
just how friggin’ much it hurt! With my fueling on point, good fitness and
stubbornness mental focus, the biggest performance limiter in this event was pain tolerance
from the fatigue and muscle damage of running for 6 hours on mostly pavement.
It was by far the sorest I’ve ever been after a race, and frankly it didn’t
feel particularly healthy or good for my long term durability as an athlete.
Like any other athletic goal I've taken on, I wasn't interested in trying an ultra simply to complete it - I wanted to push myself as far as I could go and see what I was capable of. If I wasn’t concerned about maximizing distance it may have been more tolerable on trails with increased variability. But personally I just can’t fathom how running for that long or far on any terrain would ever be enjoyable.
Ultimately this fun quarantine challenge gave me purpose and focus through a difficult summer and left me with a ton of respect for ultra runners, but little desire to sign up for a Western States qualifier. I am however really looking forward to applying the lessons I’ve learned this year to my true passions of running fast on road and trails, and continuing my progression at long course tris.
Thanks to everyone who supported this run and my summer on the trails, and for reading! I hope that I can connect with my endurance pals at a real finish line again soon. But if not, there's no shortage of motivation and personal challenges to keep exploring!
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