The Pain Cave Taj Mahal

Well, crap, I might as well get this post out of the way while I’m lying here still trying to recover. A little over a week ago, I embarked on my 2nd attempt at the 100K ultra distance. This was billed as the redemption year having failed to get this distance checked off last October (link here). For a year that bitter pill hung in my throat and was right there every time I thought about missing a training run or even cutting one short. I knew I needed to be better prepared and more importantly, a better strategy to keep from losing my feet per the last experience.

I know some of you are just curious about the results, so I’ll go ahead and reveal that and get you back on the road. Results: same place, same event, same disappointing results. Once again, fought my way through 50 miles for my third buckle in three years, but opted out of the bonus loop to officially reach the 100K goal. For those of you who want the tortured details, feel free to hit the jump, the rest – see you again next year, same place, same event and hopefully better results!

If you are still with me, you are either an avid runner yourself and curious how the laps played out..or you are shocked anyone would actually put themselves through this hell and just want to confirm those opinions ha.

I really have to jump back to the end of June to get us off on the ri…make that “wrong” foot. While training for the mid-year tune-up 50K CMAR race (link here) I clipped a root on this very same course. Very long story short, I broke my elbow ball in half and rammed it up into my bicep. Surgery required adding a plate and 7 screws to my future TSA body scans. That cost me the tune-up and 2 months of hard training for this 100K attempt. Add in the annual Haunted Trail to get set up and tore back down a week prior to this race and let’s just say there were already concerns.

As if that wasn’t enough, the 0.0 gods decided those pre-race hurdles were not sufficient to get me to bail on the attempt…decided to add a blown out back to the mix. Woke up at 3am the day before the race with what felt like rebar rammed through my sciatic – apparently it was aggravated during the final tear down of the trail and decided that was the perfect time to let me know – bastard. I couldn’t stand up, much less take a single stride. Bri was NOT a happy camper. The next 24 hrs was a battery of ice, heat, foam roller massage and cussing just trying everything I could to make it to the starting line – fate would could take it from there. Eventually calmed the back down enough to make the drive to Farmdale, get the packet, set up camp and then back to calming the back. The alarm goes off at 3:45AM – time to man up and toe the line. Lathered on some Tiger Balm, took the pre-race picture, kissed Linda goodbye and headed out with the rest of the crazy runners.

First 10 mile loop turned out fairly uneventful. I tucked in behind my friend Sophie who was going for the 100 mile distance (now that’s CRAZY). That would insure I didn’t go out too fast and our banter from time to time kept my mind off my back which was holding better than expected. I found if I leaned more into the stride it took some of the pressure off at a cost of slightly more stress on the quads. The other big thought on my mind was falling. Runners ahead and behind were dropping from roots, rocks, walnuts, you name it. I was loving my new waist light as it really gave depth to the trail allowing me to avoid the same fate. Felt bad for the guy just ahead of Sophie that dropped hard in the first mile of his 100 mile attempt – going to be a long day if he didn’t shake out that limp. Eventually made it back to the RV – 10 miles down and 9.9 miles more than I would have guessed 2+ hours earlier.

Definitely knew not to sit down if I wanted to put any more miles in. Put another thick coating of Tiger Balm on the back, dropped the lamp and geared up for the second loop. Key thing was to get back out there before the 1/2 marathoners and 10Krs launched. Last thing you want is fresh legs to be coming down on you when you are just getting into your steady groove. Eventually a wave caught up to me around mile 13.5. I hear “coming through on the right” behind me so I made the courteous shift to the left only to notice the guy behind me also shifted left. Figured I must have heard wrong because no one ever passes on the right in US races. Now I’m stuck – shift back or stay the course in what was a very rooted area of the trail. I stay, he shifts right and drops like a rock on a root. Turned back to help him out while apologizing that I thought I heard “right”. His response “No, no, that is entirely on me, I said right and then got confused on which way was right, definitely on me”. That made me feel better, helped him up, apologized anyway and he took off on his much fresher..and now skinned up knees. A little less than 5 miles later my worst fears were realized.

While traversing the second of two deep grass prairie sections on the 10 mile loop, my right foot was stopped dead in its tracks. After being so careful to that point and being doubly cautious in the always treacherous tall grass filled with hidden ruts, chopped up branches from the brush mowers and god knows what else hidden below the wet blades of grass, my luck came to an abrupt end. It is absolutely amazing how many mental cycles you end up getting in the midst of a fall. “Shit, I think I’m falling, wonder what I hit, can I save this, I think I can save this, wait, what the hell is my left leg doing back there, can I break my right foot free, yes, now I have it, is that squirrel laughing at me, do I have any feet on the ground right now, why the hell is my injured arm out in front of me, I think my left knee just slammed into the ground, oh no, that means….” and then the cold wet slap of a salmon right across the face reality hits – SMACK right down on previously broken elbow. So thankful I opted to wear a gel sleeve on my elbow to help lessen the impact should I do something stupid and fall. Quickly checked the elbow – still in one piece (wave of relief). Knee smarting, but nothing horrible there. Eventually found all my stuff from the yard sale, took another look around to make sure no one saw and then headed back out. Definitely more cautious this time and it didn’t take too long for the fall adrenaline to wear off allowing the back to come front and center – apparently it didn’t like the fall at all.

Got through that loop, switched out the socks as planned and then headed out for the 3rd loop probably more confident than I should have been, but I had made it far more miles than expected and survived a nasty fall. That third loop felt rather good and officially put me at the longest run distance for the year. I had made it 27 miles on my simulation run for the 50K right before the “incident”. Now I was 30 miles in, technically half way to the goal distance. Back was not happy, but able to overcome that, feet still doing well, hydration on point and nutrition plan so far perfect.

Now time to tak on the 4th loop. Hottest part of the day now, but still cool (~57F) compared to the previous week. In hindsight, probably overlayered for the night as I started sweating pretty heavy in the early miles. I was also in what I call the “lonely pocket” – seems to happen in most of my ultra races, the point when you think you are the only one out on the race course. Since about mile 27 I had not met or seen anyone on the course with the exception of a few people at the aid station and the those hanging about the starting line. As far as I could see ahead and behind, not a single person. Not sure if it was the extra sweating, the void causing me to hear my back more or at a point where the pain had built enough to come front – regardless, the back was screaming. Ironically, I had just listened to a recent podcast from Trail Running Nation called the “Pain Cave”. During that episode, various ultra runners shared their stories of having to fight through pain (a common element in our sport). The message, you need to manage your time in the pain cave in order to get to a point where you can address it and get out. Some made a game out of it, others created small distance/landmark goals to build on success, but one embraced her time in it and detailed how she spends it visualizing various improvements she makes to the cave every time she goes in. Taking that suggestion, I built a TAJ MAHAL in my pain cave over that last 10 miles. Chipped out a beautiful den complete with floor to ceiling oak bookcases, a nice kitchen, decorative bed (although the rock mattress was a bit firm), was even in the middle of building a jacuzzi hot tub when I noticed I was a mere mile from the end of the loop. The pain cave was a nice distraction, but the fact of the matter was, the pain was still there. I had not managed to extract myself from it like the experts on the podcast.

During that last mile, I came to the conclusion this wasn’t the year to take on the bonus loop. Proud of what I had overcome to make it to the 50 mile point, I crossed the finish line and resigned to another year of hard training and hopefully no broken bones. It was my third 50 mile buckle in three years and although short of my original goal, sometimes you have to take what life throws at you and right now, that sticker they gave us with the squirrel running with a beer put it all into perspective.

Ended up coming in about 10 minutes longer than last year.

The part that pleases me most about the race is I am pretty sure I figured out the feet strategy. All the skin stayed on the bottom of the feet this year and no major swelling in the ankle area. The hydration strategy, the nutrition plan, the new waist light and now the feet protection approach are all figured out. Work a bit on the layering for the various loops and avoid the pre-race injuries I should be good to get that 100K distance checked off.

I better get back to training, no time to waste getting the body back up to spec. Thanks for sticking around for all the details.