Went to see my doc about an unrelated issue last month, and
my BP was 160/100. It’s not the first time. Even 7 years ago I remember a
150/95, but I had been rushing around and taken Sudafed. When I ran VT100 the first
time, my BP was 160/95, and they just blew it off. I must be nervous. Same
thing last year. The machine must be broken. Ultrarunners don’t walk around
with BPs that high. Kept a log for 2 weeks to see if it was a fluke. My BP was
150-170/ 90-100 every day. I would have to start BP pills.
What? But it would wait until after Pigtails 150.
Ocean and Dyno had been training admirably for the sole
purpose of preventing my 3rd DNF at VT100 next month. Dyno ran his
first marathon at Dizzy Daze 2 months ago. They were ready to spend the entire
holiday weekend to pace me 2 nights in a row. As usual I slept poorly the night
before and went out too fast at first (even ran a sub 10h 50 mile split and
beat my last years 100k split by over an hour). Still, I felt OK until the sun
went down. That is when I turned into a pumpkin. Ocean had the bad luck of
being first to pace. I went from doing 2:10 loops to a nearly 6 hour loop,
staggering, sleepwalking. Didn’t want to take caffeine tabs because of my BP so
took my 2 hour nap break early, then did a loop with Dyno. The sun came up and I felt normal again. Did
OK the next 12 hours or so.
Then started lap #13 of 16 with Ocean. Suddenly everything
was hurting. Dark thoughts invaded my head that Ocean could not respond to. What
is wrong with me, I suck, why couldn’t I just keep moving like everyone else?
It’s always the same, nothing will ever change. I’m pissed off. I decide all
the pain is in my head. I start sprinting because I can. I ran the last 2 miles
of that loop at what felt like sub 9 minute pace, now 110 miles into the run. The
wind felt good, the legs felt loose, the burning foot pain forgotten for the
moment, pain IS all in your head. I knew I would pay later for my foolishness
but I didn’t give a crap.
As soon as I stopped, the pain came rushing back. Now I was
drenched in sweat from sprinting. Shivering. Nauseous but hungry. Feet swollen
massively with heat rash, so I had to switch to bigger shoes. I don’t like
100s, I really don’t like 150s. I need to retire. Someone up there has been
trying to tell me something for 3 years that I refused to acknowledge- runs
that continue into night are not for me.
After a very long break I am totally stiff and frozen but I
take off with Dyno on loop #14. I start running a little but suddenly I can’t
keep enough calories in. Then I start peeing gallons every 20 minutes, but
miraculously manage not to spray my shoes in the dark. I slow to 1 mph. I look
for patches of ground to lie down on. There was a bench somewhere…. How far was
it? I would cut off my left breast for a cot. But I can’t take caffeine or
advil now…. have to get back to the aid station which is an eternity away. Every
time I see disembodied headlamps coming at me, I feel a weird panic, like
crying. All hopes of finishing under 48 hours disappear, under 50, under 52… or
at all…..
I see Rob coming the other way, something like 75 miles into
his 100, had been going for sub 20 but having a rough day too and left his
pacer. I don’t want him to leave but he has to keep moving and so do I, only a
couple miles to the aid station, only 22 miles left to go. Dyno is doing
everything possible to keep me going, he has already run about 40 miles
himself. I’m feeling claustrophobic, I HAVE to get out of these GD woods. Finally
we get out of the woods but the street side is no easier, it’s now single track.
I can’t move at all. I am vaguely aware that I kept repeating, “what?” and
“where are we?” before the hallucinations started. Parts of the ground kept
coming up to meet me. I would see things moving in my peripheral vision.
Finally I was convinced I saw a giant Garfield the cat… no wait…. Actually it
was Pikachu from Pokemon,
or maybe lights reflecting off 2 yellow street signs.
Dyno called Ocean. It had taken me like 4 hours to get
halfway through that loop and there was no way I was going to finish. I
remember being shuttled into a car then somehow getting home.
A couple hours later I woke up, hearing voices downstairs.
Aside from feeling stinky with itchy feet, felt fine. I had planned a BBQ and
Mrs. Ocean and son came by to help cook. Rob and Francesca (who finished the
200 miler in 62 hours) came, but no one else did. Guess people were tired, or
still running, or…. felt uncomfortable to be around a DNFer. It’s true… once you DNF
it gets easier to DNF. Once you steal, once a quitter….
Got a couple of messages over the next week, was I OK? Of
course I was OK. So why am I annoyed by the underlying tone of pity, the
assumption that I should feel devastated rather than so happy to be showered,
off my feet, and drinking beer instead. I guess either I’m defensive/
projecting/ in denial or I just hate pity. I’ll admit I wasn’t as prepared as
many of my colleagues, and I certainly didn’t play the right strategy race day,
but I live to run another day. I’ll never be an Olympian or a supermodel so why
is running 100s any different. Not everyone can do it, and not everyone wants
to do it. Maybe this time you’ll find me in the kiddie pool having more fun
than in the open water.
Thanks to Ocean and Dyno for being true friends, welcome to the thankless world of
pacing…. You sure you still want to go to VT100?
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