CMAR 2024: Waker of the Dead

Well, I’ve stalled long enough and time to get this race recap out so I can move on to the next challenge. Ever have that one event, be it physical, mental that just seems to have your number. Regardless of how hard you prepare, train, experiment, validate, pray, etc. it seems to always get the best of you. In my case, I can answer that question without hesitation – the Cry Me a River 50K Ultra Trail Run.

I have an embarrassing history with this particular race and this year’s event was held last month. If you would like a cautionary tale of endurance running or simply like living vicariously through the misfortunes of others, hit the jump – caution, there is a “graphic” element.

Let’s set the stage a bit in case you missed the previous race recollections. CMAR is held on the Illinois River Bluff Trail that meanders through Chillicothe and Peoria (link here). The race starts with a 2mile loop at Camp Wokanda and then another 2 miles down to Robinson Park. From there you head to Green Valley Camp, a bit over 3.5 miles, where the second aid station is set up. Once you have filled up on fluids and food you make your way to Detweiller Park where you merge with the Pimiteoui Trail as it weaves around the park to the turnaround at Moose Shelter (link here). That is roughly 3 miles for that last section. The Half Marathon distance turns around at Green Valley, the 50K, 100K and 100 milers go the full out distance for the number of loops to reach the required distance with the exception of the 50K which gets a break and only has to return to Green Valley on the second loop. The race is long, they know, you know it, everybody knows it. Keep in mind they refer to participants as “crybabies” if you back down the day of the race.

It is a well maintained and beautiful course that is mostly single track except on a few of the flatter parts allowing you to move up next to your friends and commiserate, I mean happy chat. So you might be asking yourself, “What’s the big deal Bri, well groomed trails, out in nature, Illinois is flat – suck it up buttercup!”. Ummm, I forgot to mention two things a) it IS NOT flat and b) it is held in the heart of Midwest heat and humidity. Maybe you missed that “Bluff” part in the trail name, that translates to hills and valleys, lots of hills and valleys, did I mention it has craploads of hills and valleys!?! I will admit, these elevation gains do not compare to the mountain runs out west and northeast, but the 11,000 feet of elevation gain just for the 50K will put a hurt on you if you are not prepared.

From a race recap perspective, the first year I entered the Half and had no idea what I was in for even at that shorter distance. First race adrenaline got me through that year and set the stage to move up to the longer distance. The following year was my first 50K attempt. That day it went to 105F heat index and I made it all the way to Detweiller and then back to Green Valley before getting an expensive ride to the Emergency Room (link here). Got lucky a couple of years later and successfully wiped that DNF from my record thanks to the temps being held down due to 6 solid hours of rain during the race (link here). Last year I was ready to beat the course again before I shattered my elbow a week before the race. That’s a score of 1 for 2 going into the race, this year was supposed to even that out.

Per previous comments you can’t take this race lightly if you want any chance of surviving. Learned my lessons from the past and was fully committed to be as prepared as I could now that the elbow was mostly healed. First critical element is training miles and that started as soon as we got back from Texas in February. More importantly, those miles were spent directly on the CMAR course whenever conditions allowed it. As the ice left the trails the feet were pounding the dirt 3 to 4 times a week doing the various sections to get the legs built up, gain confidence back from the trip hazards (did not need another fall on the elbow) and worked out a new nutrition plan.

I try not to think about the time commitment, but did check the stats for this post (through June).

Training on the actual course, meant a significant amount of elevation training compared to any other year in my running career. By the end of June I was at 85,498 feet or as I like to reference it – 6 trips up Pike’s Peak (a fourteener).

At the end of all this I was a bit drained, but felt far more confident than I had been for my other attempts, with the exception of one key element – the heat. Regardless of what anyone tries to tell you otherwise, we had an overall very cool Spring and start to Summer. Temps might jump up to the low 80’s every once in a while, but then immediately drop back down into the low 60’s to mid 70’s. Hell, I even remember wearing layers at the end of Spring. Makes for comfortable training, but NOT what I needed for this heatfest of a race. Sure enough, the week before the race someone put coal in the furnace. Added some extra taper runs to hopefully get a bit acclimated to the increased temps…then the day of the race came and I was doing my best to calm the inner fears.

Race started at 8 and it was already getting warm. The 100Kers and the 100Milers started the night before and were feeling the heat in the valleys even during the night hours. Kept telling myself I had done a 26 mile simulation run on the course 2 weeks back and that went well and at least the second half of that was warmer temps. The first 2 mile loop at Wokanda went very well and even came in a few minutes ahead of planned split. Linda swapped out my fluids and started the trek to Robinson. That also went well and again hit the splits – knock on a tree, this might not be that bad. Then came the section to Green Valley, the hardest section by far with 8 solid climbs and descents into the valley. The valleys were starting to bake and I could feel the sweat building. Was extremely happy entering the aid station area – replenished the fluids and got some ice to cool the body. A quick glance on my watch confirmed a growing concern – my heart rate was spending more time in the red zone than planned – need to keep an eye on that, relax more on the downhills to push the rate down as needed.

It was the section down to Detweiller when the wheels fell off. Part of ultra running is problem solving – one of the aspects that makes this activity such mentally taxing. Something is wrong, time to go through a litany of options to see what will get you out of danger. More fluids, extra helpings of Perpetuem (higher sustenance/salt/electrolytes), ease way up on the hills, cut the pace on the downs – the heart rate would respond with a drop, but only momentary. Try to pick the pace up, 20 steps further and it was even higher than before. In addition, the body was throwing out fluids at a ridiculous rate to the point it looked like I was swimming and not running. The valleys were scorching and this year there was an elongated time in one before finally getting to the Detweiller aid station. Linda alerted me I was not looking good – damn, must have looked as bad as I felt. She also noted the temps were going way up which clued me in to the likely cause of my discomfort. My internal thermostat was damaged significantly with my previous heat exhaustion and stroke episodes – the Achilles Heel of my running career. Took an extended break in an attempt to get the body temps down. ZERO desire to eat the planned mini-meal and simply focused on slamming as much electrolyte and water I could. Decided to head out and told Linda to meet me at Robinson in case the issues continued (splits had been replaced by survival). Struggled back to Green Valley where I reloaded with large amounts of ice and fluids along with some various food elements that would hopefully stay down. Had to make a decision – head out to Robinson knowing that you DO NOT want to go down outside an aid station at this race or call it here like the first time – this time willingly vs medically. Hindsight, not the best idea, but opted to head out, committed to as much walking as needed to hopefully get the demons resolved. Up down, up down, up down, up down – by this time the body was having none of this nonsense. Made it to the last hill up before Robinson and used every last ounce of strength to make it out. Would have been a great reference video for the Walking Dead actors. Just needed to get to Linda and everything would be fine.

Popped out of the woods and saw Linda pulling into the Robinson parking lot. The joy seeing her will be something I’ll never forget. I had pushed myself to the limit and still standing – wobbly, but standing. Started wandering to a picnic table which alarmed Linda who called me back to the chair she had put out for me. Took a seat and pondered life. Only 2 miles back to start – now one and only one goal, get there, take an extended break and figure this shit out in order to complete the final loop. Problem was the recovery point had been breached. Head was not clearing, shakes were starting and the stomach had more knots than a Boy Scout manual. There was a serious fear that getting out of the chair would put me on the ground. Talked it through with Linda and we decided she would drive me back to the RV, get in some cool air, let this wave pass and then she would take me back to Robinson to complete the race. Slowly got out of the chair and managed to get myself in the car. Getting out was twice as hard culminating in basically falling onto the camper floor. Things get a bit blurry from there.

Shakes were bad at this point, extremely dizzy and the stomach, well it was in full revenge mode. At one point I must have relaxed a bit before hearing a near scream “BRIAN!” which startled the crap out of me and probably raised me 3 inches of the floor. Linda shall now be referred to as the “The Waker of the Dead”. It did clear my head a bit, but bad things started happening. Linda actually took a picture she plans to leverage before any future signups. Nobody needs to see that, but I did make a quick artistic rendering to capture the moment – told you it was going to be “graphic” after the jump.

The will to continue had diminished significantly after that. Push it more and likely end up back in ER which would trigger Linda’s foot on any future midyear trail races or accept failure and live to race another day. Linda pounced on the moment of weakness, kidding, to her credit, she was incredibly understanding and gracious enough to hold off on the scolding until I was recovered. She softly offered to turn in my timing device – the struggle was over. She did note when she returned that the return bucket was pretty full of devices which was comforting to know I wasn’t the only crybaby. She also noted the heat index had crested over 100F. Curse you Heat Miser (link here).

All that training for not. CMAR 3, Brian 1. I made it through 18.5 miles before throwing in the towel – or as Linda refers to it as “I adulted”. My biggest fear is giving up will be an easier call in the future. This hobby requires a certain level of discomfort (suffrage) and extended periods “on the edge”. Pulling the rip cord early just gives more leverage to the quit side in future in-race mental debates. We will see how that goes in the future – right now it is rebuilding time to get ready for the October 50 mile race.

Fingers crossed CMAR 2025 will go a LOT better.