Very rarely, as most every runner will tell you, is any race going to go exactly as you planned it, as you envisioned it, or as you dreamed it. I get that. I understand that things will happen, changes will need to be made on the fly, and you “Plan A” will probably change by the half way point. But what do we do, or how do we cope, when our last plan, our last option, is just to finish the race? How do we pick up the pieces from a race where you met none of your goals?
1 out of every dozen races (most likely more than that) is going to go exactly as scripted. If you are having a higher success rate than that, either you have it all figured out (not likely) or you need to challenge yourself to some harder races. Things are going to happen. Food won’t sit right, something won’t feel good, or worse…you’ll injure yourself somehow. I hope the latter never happens, because injuries are terrible. So it is quite often that we find ourselves focusing on our second goal for that race, whether it is a finish time in a point to point race, or a mileage goal in a timed race. I would even argue that, at the rate of success that our A plan has, our plan B should really be called A2, and our plan A should be called A1, because that’s how often we end up shooting for plan B instead. This is all just part of racing, regardless of the nature of the event. It’s also probably true about life. We have this plan, this vision of how we want everything to turn out, and often times we have to change it on the fly and keep moving. Racing, now that I think about it, is a great metaphor for life. Write that down for another post at another time.
A few weeks back I took on my first 24 hour race here in Tennessee, the Three Sisters Ultra in Maryville, TN on the campus of Maryville College. It’s a fantastic event with fantastic race directors and multiple options to choose from. If you’re ever thought about getting into an ultra marathon type event, but don’t want the pressure of cut off times or high stakes races, they have plenty of time options (6, 12, 24) and relay options to help you get your feet wet in a very friendly environment. The goal for this race, the main goal, if EVERY LITTLE THING went right…was to shoot for 100 miles. And the logic behind that goal was sound…I was less than two months removed from running 62 in less than 16, so I really felt that, given perfect conditions and nutrition was spot on, I could hit 100 miles in 24 hours. 10 hours into the race…I was left adjusting that goal.
Up until this point, I’ve never really had IT band issues. This day, however, my body decided to revolt and throw new pains at me via both IT bands. What was once a comfortable pace was now a miserable one, and I was forced to run/walk a LOT sooner than I had hoped. I was forced to wave goodbye to my target mileage, and decided to drop it to 85 (a still respectable mileage goal for myself, all things considered at that point.
As the race went on, the small hills began to feel like mountains. The elevation profile for the course was pretty small…it’s a 3.1 mile loop with roughly 200 feet of gain per loop, so there were really only a couple hills, and everything else was pretty flat. But once the IT Bands started to go, every climb was a hobble, every descent was a tumble, and it would only get worse over the next 14 hours.
18 hours in, I was quickly seeing the goal of hitting 85 miles sail away. Time to change and adapt again! New goal: 75 miles. Surely I could could do 20 miles in 6 hours. I had planned to jog when I could, and walk when I had to, and spend as little time at the aid station as possible. Just enough time to fill up my water bottle, grab some food, and back out on the trails. I was going to get this! And then fatigue hit. To this point in my very young running career, which has been full of mouth fulls that I can’t quite chew, I had never run that amount of time before. Staring down the thought of running for 6. More. Hours…it started to be very daunting, and I started to really doubt myself. I have found that in times like this, it really helps to take a break. Sit down, grab some food you’ll enjoy (in this case, it was the grilled cheesus), and take a load off. It helps to not think about an event like this as a whole. 24 hours can be a very long time and it can quickly overwhelm you, especially when you’re already been running for 18 hours. That’s why I like to grab food that I enjoy because it is a nice little reprieve from the gels and energy chews and liquid calories that we so often consume during training and racing. Plus it’s a comfort food and if you don’t like grilled cheese, you should seek help. Lactose intolerant? Ok…you get a pass.
What I didn’t count on when establishing my new goal was just how tired I was becoming. Between that, the dark of night, and my new best friend IT pain, the goal of 75 miles was gone before my 19th loop was even finished. At one point on this loop, one mile of the loop took me 31 minutes. Thinking back to earlier in the race and seeing that some whole loops took me just a few minutes longer than that one mile, the new goal was just to make it twenty four hours. Still a decent goal, as this was all uncharted territory.
As 4 AM approached, I couldn’t take it any more. The pain with each step shooting up the outside of my hips had me questioning life and if I was too young for replacement surgery. I made the choice to take a nap. I had to get off my feet, to give my hips some down time, and do something to take my mind off the fact that there were three hours left until the end of the race. Sure, I could have dropped…but I haven’t yet to this point, and I hope I never do. So I curled up, set an alarm for thirty minutes, and slept…for maybe ten. I gathered myself up off the ground, grabbed my water bottle, threw on a podcast, and made my way back to the aid station where Tony, the race director, hit me up with another grilled cheesus and it was back to walking the loop. My 21st loop, the final loop that I would complete, took me two hours and twenty five minutes. And I have never been more happy to sit down than I was after that loop.
Twenty four hours. 65.73 miles. Two sore hips. One bruised ego.
So how do we bounce back? I think the first step is to realize and remember that not every race is going to go to plan, to recognize that this event is a grueling sport of choice, and to take pride in the accomplishment of having completed a goal, regardless of how many times you changed it to get there. I firmly believe that if you finish the race, then no race is a failure…just a chance to learn. My takeaway from this race is this: even though my goal went from 100 miles to just finishing the 24 hours, there is still an accomplishment worth celebrating. After all, this was uncharted waters.
So whats the new goal? Even if I told you, the plans will probably change.
