Camping & Rocky Raccoon Volunteer Report

Originally I had planned to drive up for my noon to 6pm Rocky Raccoon HTRex aid station volunteer effort and drive back later that night. Then I went to a foam party with my improv peeps.  It turns out Joe is moving to LA in a month or so and we were discussing one last camping trip.  A couple of drinks later and the master plan was hatched.  We arrive Friday night, setup camp, and began the weekend of fun.

I’m finding volunteering at the races is a ton of fun, and a lot more hard work than it appears from the outside.  Trying to keep the food and drinks ready for the runners as they come in waves is challenging.  Just when you think you have things under control the next wave of runners comes through and you’re behind again.  I ended up staying until about 7:30 ending with traffic duty.  HTrex did a great job, everything was very well organized.  As a volunteer it is great to be able to shout out a runners request and be told exactly where something is, or on the odd occasion the request cannot be met.  It’s always great to hear things like “This is the best aid station” by many many runners. 

Joe went to Sam Houston State and is very familiar with all that Huntsville has to offer.  We headed to Zach's Bar & Grill for a beer (or two) and some fried pickles.  I know going out to dinner at a restaurant isn’t camping but this was a going away trip for Joe and he really wanted to show us some of his favorite local spots.  Joe wasn’t lying, the fried pickles were amazing.  We headed back to camp and smores were for desert.  

Overall it was great trip.  Remarkably I didn’t run at all while I was there.   If I don’t run the 50 miler next year (something I told myself I would never to again), I am definitely volunteering again.  I’ll make a  whole weekend of it either way.  I really want to see how crazy it gets out there at the midnight to 6am shift.  Next up Hot Chocolate 15K with my sister.  I can’t wait!

Rocky Raccoon 50K Race Report - Pt. 2

In case you missed it part one is here

Loop 2

Back to Aid Station 1

Tenth place?  How can I be in tenth place?  I’ve never been that high in any race unless you count starting at the front of a church 5K.  This is BAD news.  I either ran way too fast on the first loop, she was mistaken on my overall placement, or everyone else in this race is really slow.  I’m pretty confident that  I didn’t take 10 years off from ultras and become a superstar.  I wonder if I can get a top 10 finish. I must be pretty high up in my age group. 

Of course all kinds of crazy nonsense comes over you when you hear things like you’re in tenth place halfway through the race.  So now I’m running all the time scenarios in my head.  Sub six hours, maybe even sub 5:30?  I’m not sure why things like this come over you during a race.  My experience is you get what you get on race day, planning and training be damned. 

With the possibilities running through my head it takes my mind off the fact my legs are done for.  It’s not a matter of IF but of WHEN my legs start cramping.  BAM! Wipeout 4! (Or is it 5, I’ve lost count)  I didn’t know you had muscles on top of your shins, but evidently you do, as these muscles cramp up in my left leg.  I give the “my legs are cramping” scream and I’m pretty sure the guy hot on my heels thought I broke my ankle.  He helps me back to my feet, checks I’m ok, and head off.  It takes a bit of stretching and walking a couple hundred yards before I can resume running.  Hey this must be about where I wiped out the first time. 

I make it to the start of the out and back section to aid station 1 without incident.  I notice as soon as I hit the sandy parts of the trail my legs start to cramp.  Anytime my foot lands less than perfectly my legs twinge in near cramps.  This section is at a slight incline and with the cramping I run/walk it telling myself the aid station is just past where I can’t see.  Where the heck is the aid station?  I don’t remember it being this far.  Then I see a couple people I recognize from earlier heading towards me, and I pass a couple people walking now.  Ah it must be close now.  I see the guy who helped me up.  He comments that my ankle and form look good.  I go to respond and BAM! Wipeout!  Every muscle below my knee in both legs cramp up.  It was a two foot toe curler and not in anything resembling a good way.  If it wasn’t for a couple people helping me up I’m not sure I could have physically pulled myself off the ground.  I’m pretty dejected with all the face planting, but the word that the aid station is just out of eyesight is good news.  I walk it into the aid station.

I spend a fair bit of time in the aid station.   I down a couple Hammer gels.  These aren’t too bad.  The raspberry taste good, but it is pretty gritty.  Maybe it tastes that way because I’m covered head to toe in dirt.  I honestly can’t tell if I'm eating dirt or not, and I really don't care either.  I joke around with the race volunteers for a bit before I head back out. 

Back to Aid Station 2

Heading out of aid station 1 I decide to walk a bit, but I get bored of the slow pace so I start to run.  As before whenever my right foot lands less than ideally I can feel the outside of my ankle cramp.  I push it as far as I feel I can go then walk for a few minutes.  Then I start walking more and running less.   With all the walking I realize all those pseudo goals from being in tenth place are done for.  A couple people pass me, but it appears the heat is taking its toll on everyone.  For some reason the wise words of Victor come back to me and from here on out my motto becomes “Embrace the pain”.   I get passed again. Dang she has nice legs.  At least I know I’m mentally still with it and it is just physical problems I’m dealing with.  I bet I can catch her.  Kind of like a dog chasing a car, I’m not sure what I’d do if I did catch her.  I’m gaining ground, but then I cramp up and am forced to walk a bit more.  Rinse and repeat with several other people and I make it to aid station 2.  This section I mainly power walk with a bit of running.  At this point I’m searching for positives.  The good news is my mind really wants to run, but the cramping is preventing me from running.  When I do run I’m gaining on the people who passed me until I cramp again.  I’m having zero stomach issues now.  Pop a salt tablet from the aid station and head back out.

Back to Aid Station 3

There were a couple of us that left the aid station at about the same time.  All of us start off walking.  I start to realize my legs are feeling much better now that I’ve walked quite a bit.  I run a fair bit and I’m still cramping but it is becoming less frequent.  Now I’m mainly just hot and exhausted.  In retrospect it probably was the heat that was the biggest issue for me during this stage of the race.  On a couple of the flatter, less technical trail sections I’m able to run at what feels like a pretty good pace.  Ah it feels good to stretch my legs out a bit.  When I hit the Boardwalks sections I’m feeling really good.  This section I mainly run with frequent, but short, walking breaks on the more technical parts.  I come into HTREx aid station 3 to the news the Aggies scored on their first two drives and are leading 14-0.  Whoop! 

Knowing there are only 2.8 miles left is invigorating.  I down some bananas and M&M’s.  I’ve avoided the candies up to this point fearing the post sugar rush crash I tend to get.  Now it’s time to celebrate.  Stephanie finds me and tells me she won the female division.  I’m sure from here perspective it didn’t seem I cared, but in actuality I found it pretty exciting.  Like I said trail runners are a different breed.  It’s not often someone seeks a complete stranger out to share their race experience just because you ran with them for few miles.  Cool.

On to the Finish

I continue with my mostly running, walking the technical sections strategy.  I’m ready for this to be over with.  About a mile outside of aid station 3 I realize I probably didn’t give Stephanie the reaction she was looking for when she told me of her win.  I was generally excited for her, but I was exhausted and just wanted this run to be over with.  This is when I know I’m mentally done.  Generally I'll stay in the aid stations way longer than I should simply to keep talking with people.  I figure I’ll see her at the end and give her the props she deserves and chat with the other HTREx people.  Of course it doesn’t occur to me until I'm driving home that they are all at aid station 3 and I won’t see them again today.

I’m able to run it into the finish.  I don’t get passed in the final mile stretch, and I actually pass a few people.  I cross the finish banner with all the usual fanfare of an ultra.  “Your finishers medal is over there, and don’t forget to turn in your chip.”  I finish in 6:20:34, only 7 minutes off my time 10 years ago.  Not bad for a hot day, and not nearly enough training.  I start cramping again.  I walk around a bit, grab a couple of handfuls of various foods, refill my handheld, and tell Paul (the race director) thanks for putting on a great race.  Off to find some shade.  I sit around chatting with various people for about half an hour and head to my car to find the showers.  Turns out Victor parked right next to me.  So I sit down and talk with him and his buddy for a bit.  Time to hit the shower.  When I get out there really isn’t anyone around anymore and the race tables are being packed up.  Time to head to back to Houston.

Final Thoughts

Despite all the face plants, I think running a week in mountains this summer helped with my footing.  I haven’t trained much on trails or in the dark recently.  I’ll need to work on both going forward.  I’m baffled by the stomach issues.  Maybe I was simply that nervous going in.  I don’t recall eating anything out of the ordinary in the week leading up to the race.

I’m glad I didn’t drop out, even though battling cramps is never fun.  Cramping is something I need to figure out.  I seem to cramp in any race taking longer than three and half hours.  It doesn’t seem to matter the distance, the pace, the sport, or the weather conditions.  I’ve tried all the electrolyte supplements in various quantities.  Maybe I simply need more “time on my feet” runs to get my muscles used to it.

First half of the race was 2:37:29 (~10:10 pace), and the second half was 3:43:04 (~14:23 pace).  I’m not too happy about such uneven splits.  However, I don’t think you can ever be disappointed in finishing an ultra.  Sure I didn’t meet my time goals, but realistically with the limited training I put in for this race it doesn’t come as a surprise.  Also, I’ve learned over the years my performance is dramatically affected as the temperature rises.  This was the first race I didn’t run with some sort of timing device.  In some ways it was liberating, but on the flip side it drove the analytical part of me crazy.

Despite the negative tone of this race report I had a great time running this race.  It felt good to challenge myself and plunge into the unknown again. There were a lot of positives.  Mentally I was upbeat most of the race.  “Embrace the pain” seemed to work well for me.  I had no blister or chafing issues.  Even with the cramping when someone passed me, when I could run, I was gaining on them until I cramped again.  Despite all the falls I had little road rash and no true injuries.  This was my first long run with the handheld and it worked out great.   Hammer gel worked out great and it was my first time trying it.  It took a while but my stomach issues completely went away.  Even the cramping somewhat subsided.  That knowledge will help in the tough times in future races.  I was walking around like Frankenstein with Tourette’s on Sunday but the stiffness was mostly gone by Monday. 

I need to make it to some training runs with HTREx. I’m soooo not a morning person.  Running through the woods is so much more enjoyable than anywhere else.  I’m planning on volunteering at the Rocky Raccoon 100 miler and I look forward to the Hogs Hunt 50K in April. Next up.  The Color Run 5K, team "Coloring Outside the Lines"

Rocky Raccoon 50K Race Report - Pt. 1

Pre-Race

The entire week leading up to the race I had pre-race jitters.  I cannot remember the last time I was the slightest bit nervous for a race.  Worried the alarm wouldn’t go off sure, but not about the race itself.  This race was different.  I had not run an ultra in 10 years.  It’s not like riding a bike, and you can’t fake 31 miles.

With a 6am start time, I wasn’t sure which was better, getting up at 3:30 and driving the hour to Huntsville or staying the night in Huntsville and get an extra hour of sleep.  I opted for the extra hour of sleep and stayed in Huntsville.  I arrived at the hotel and started laying everything out for the next day.  Organizing race clothes, post-race clothes, stuff for the shower after the race, etc.  Basically anything to keep my mind off the race jitters.  Bed time came early, and the alarm went off even earlier.  

Race morning routine is down by now.  I started rehydrating and eating my usual race morning leftover homemade pizza.  After the first slice my stomach wasn’t into it anymore.  I tried to force down the second slice, but halfway through my stomach let me know if I tried anymore it would revolt.  That was odd; normally I can eat just about anything in the morning without issues on race day.  Unfortunately it was a sign of things to come.

I arrive at Huntsville State Park around 5:15, parked, found the packet pickup and race chip pickup.  After I returned my “goodie” bag (which consisted of a race shirt and men’s deodorant) to my car I went off toward the start line to see if I knew anyone.  Of course I knew no one.  My friends are crazy but they’re not get up at 4am to run 31 miles through the woods crazy.  I’m the only one with that special kind of crazy built in. 

The people who run trail ultras are completely different from road racers.  In a very good way, maybe it’s just the smaller size of the race but I think trail runners are simply a different breed of people.  There are no strangers when you arrive at a trail race.  Everyone talks with you and wants to know about you, your races, your training; just about everything is fair game.  At a road race everyone is about them and their group.  It’s rare to make a new friend at a road race.  In an ultra, everyone is your long lost friend that you just haven’t met yet.  Reminds me I need to get out of bed early and start running with Houston Trail Runners EXtreme.

Loop 1

The trail to Aid Station 1

The race director (Paul) tells us to line up, gives us some last minute race information, and we’re off.  (Note: Paul tells us the distances to each aid station, so all my distance references are based on that, the course map and my feel for where I am in between. I’m not sure the accuracy of any of those.)  We do a little loop around the campground and then we plunge in to the woods.  I start mid pack, and settle in with a group of 3 or 4 other runners.  The pace feels natural, but dang it’s hot.  I opted to not wear my Garmin since it’s an older model and its ability to correctly determine the current pace in trees (or buildings) is horrible.  I have no idea how fast I’m going, but it feels pretty easy.  BAM! Wipeout!  Everyone around checks to see if I’m ok.  I pick myself up and do a quick assessment. Everything seems fine and I’m glad I didn’t put my camera in my handheld as it would have been crushed.  It was a pretty hard fall and nothing but my pride is hurt.  I catch back up to the pack of runners when I realize there aren’t that many people ahead of our little group.  BAM! Wipeout 2.  This time I land on the opposite side of my body.  We cannot be more than a couple miles in and I’ve already wiped out twice.  In twelve years of running I can only remember two falls, and I’ve already wiped out twice.  It’s going to be a long day.  Pick myself back off the ground and again I got lucky, not much damage.  Back to rejoin the group.  As we head into aid station 1 (~4 miles in) I realize I’m actually pretty tired already, not feeling too good, and for some reason even the pb&j is making me nauseous.  I have a pretty slow turnaround at the first aid station.

The trail to Aid Station 2

The rest of our rag tag group of runners had much better aid station discipline.  They were in and out and back on the trail in no time.  I was back to playing catch up to the group.  Everyone is still chatting a joking.  Hey look a random foot bridge (Amy’s Crossing?).  Only one person takes the foot bridge the rest of us run along the path straight into a huge pool of ankle deep water.  Unfortunately the lone woman, and leader of our pack, comes to a near complete stop and it’s all I can do not to plow her down. (Note:  Later I found out this was Stephanie and she went on to win the female division.  Awesome job Stephanie!).  The odd thing is only my right foot got soaked, my left stayed completely dry.  So now I’m sloshing around with one wet shoe.  Ugh.  After another mile or so I start realizing I’m feeling really bad now.  I decide to not try and hang with the group anymore.  That was a pretty hard decision at the time.  On these trail runs you usually end up running a bit by yourself.  I really wanted the solitude to be later rather than sooner.  About mile 6 I’m really feeling bad and already contemplating dropping out. In a 2x15.5 mile loop course dropping out can’t happen until you make it around the course at least once. BAM! Wipeout 3!  This one was a doozie.  Luckily my water bottle took the brunt of the fall.  My shirt now looks like I entered the Tough Mudder not a trail race.  Dang I’m thirsty.  Yummy, a daily dose of minerals to go with my water.  I pull into aid station 2 and I’m realizing my stomach is about as bad as it’s ever been and my legs are tired and a bit sore already.  WTF is going on here?  How can I be this beat up seven and a half miles into a run, and at pretty modest pace (for the current distance covered).  My turn around time here isn’t much better than the first aid station and the pb&j only makes things worse.

The trail to Aid Station 3

I’m about half mile out of aid station 2 when I realized I should have paid more attention to what the volunteers asked to fill my water bottle with.  Heed sports drink may be the nastiest tasting liquid you can put in your mouth without it killing you.  There simply are no words to describe how bad this stuff tastes.  Hey only 5 miles of drinking this liquid crap.  After the second sharp turn I’m pretty sure I’m going to drop out after the first loop.  Oh no something is coming up!  Yep, first time to ever get sick during a race. I mean a week before I ate Goode Company BBQ and had a funnel cake an hour before I did a 10 mile run with only a mild side stitch. At least it wasn’t much.  Now I’m certain I’ll drop out.  If I do I’ll probably be ok to do the Firefly 5K with Liz later that night.  So it’s not all bad.  So I’m in cruise control now.  The plan is to run as good as I can and get a decent 25K time and drop out.  Then a guy (Victor) catches me from behind.  We get to chatting and I tell him about how crappy I feel.  Then the trail wisdom comes through and he tells me “When we sign up for these things you know going in at some point it’s going to hurt.  Might as well embrace it.”.  True dat, trail hommie!  He heads off and we part ways.  I run maybe a mile by myself when I see someone walking the uphill.  I’m determined to catch him.  When I catch him, I’m winded so we start to chat.  He’s running an easy pace to talk at, so we hang together for a bit.  Rolf is originally from Switzerland but now lives in Galveston.  We talk about running in the cold and wouldn’t you know it we pass a couple people.  Then I realized, after running a couple miles with him I’m feeling pretty good and my stomach issues seem to have gone away.  We pull into the Houston Trail Runners Extreme sponsored aid station (#3).  I’m a new member to HTRex, but I’ve never made it out to a group run yet.  I’m hoping all my Facebook stalking pays off and I recognize a few people.  Doesn’t happen.  The volunteer who took my water bottle noted “oh this is nasty”.  I’m pretty sure she wasn’t talking about the remainder of the Heed.  Rolf and I head back out.

The trail to the end of loop 1

Oops, I forgot to tell the volunteer to empty my water bottle.  Now I have water with a slight tinge of sewage, I mean Heed.  Well it’s only 2.8 miles to the end of the first loop.  Hey, there’s another person up ahead.  I bet I can catch her.  I pull away from Rolf and start the chase.  I eventually catch her, then she starts walking so no real chatting takes place.  The slightly slower pace with Rolf really is paying off.  I realize at this point my stomach issues have cleared up completely.  My legs are actually quite tired and sore, and I can feel the pre-muscle cramp spasms already.  It’s going to be a long way into the turnaround.  From the Interpretive Center to the turnaround the “trail” is more of a neglected paved walking path.  The half asphalt/rock and half trail messes with my footing.  Hey there’s the race photographer, time to pretend I’m not totally cooked.

Judging from the picture I only pretended in my mind.

I roll into the turnaround and as a cruel joke you have to run under the finishers banner to hit the timing mat (2:37:29).  I go to the aid station to refuel.  There seems to be quite a few people standing around.  I can’t tell if they are 10Kers, 25Kers, or 50Kers.  Most seem really fresh and not tired at all. I waste about 2 minutes in the aid station and I have to make a decision.  My legs are cooked, I’m exhausted, and it’s getting really hot out, I really want to quit.  I’ve never DNF’ed, but I’m pretty sure the smart play is to drop out and live to race another day.  Yeah, I’m going to drop.  Then the aid volunteer says “Do you need anything?”  I tell her, that I’m pretty sure I’m going to drop out.  To which she replies “Oh, you really shouldn’t drop out, you’re in tenth place”.  What?  How can that be?  I start thinking back to who I’ve seen on the way in from the Interpretive Center and I realize she’s probably not lying to me.  (Note:  turns out I was actually in 18^th place at this point according to the race results).  F it, this thing won't race itself, back out on the course I go.  

You can read Part 2 here