Sunday, April 26, 2020

Virtual Race #2: Arrowhead 19 Hour

"Run away, but we're running in circles / Run away, run away, run away" —Post Malone, Circles
"Sounds like a plan, dude." —Ryan Thorpe, shitty blogger / mediocre runner

Okay so here's the thing. I like running long distances through the mountains, but this whole global pandemic thing has turned out to be wildly incompatible with that hobby.

Who has two hands and likes to spend his weekends climbing mountains? This guy.

First, race cancellations and travel restrictions meant that I couldn't leave NJ to run in any "real" mountains. Then my local trails were shut down because of massive overcrowding. Lastly, to add insult to injury, the only (non-highway) road leading out of town was closed for construction for the next 12 months.

So here I sit in my 0.886 square mile town. What is an ultrarunner to do?

Yeah it's a tiny little town


A Beacon of Hope

That's when the RD of Arrowhead Endurance posted to the ultralist about a new virtual 19 hour timed event. It was free to enter, could be started at any point in April, and could be run on a course of the runner's choosing. Highest total distance in 19 hours would win. From the grumblings of the elder curmudgeons on the list about how stupid virtual races were, I knew I had to run it. After all, spite is my most powerful motivator (aside from boredom).

Within days, a plan came together in my mind. I put together a two-ish mile figure-8 entirely within my town. I would never be more than half a mile from my house. How's that for staying local?

Course map. Just 52 laps of this baby and I'm done!

The weather report for Saturday April 11 showed clear skies and a high of 50. It would be a little breezy but at least I wouldn't get rained on. A midnight start would have me done in time for dinner and a virtual game night with some friends.

So there it was. A dumb fucking idea for a dumb fucking pandemic.

Goals

What's the point of running around in circles all day if you can't geek out on some data? (I realize that the previous sentence is totally incomprehensible to most people. Just bear with me.)

Not many people realize this, but I ran a 19:39 100 miler on roads back in the day, which is far from elite, but it's a better indicator of my road running ability than, say, my 48 hour performance at Ouray. Even fewer people know that I once ran a solo 50 miler on a track in 7:45.

Those two benchmarks suggested that I could probably run 100 miles in 17-18 hours under ideal conditions. I decided that I would stop at 100 and reward myself with some well deserved day-drinking with whatever time was left on the clock.

Go Time

So there I was, a short-shorts-clad doofus standing in the middle of sleepy little Lebanon Borough at midnight.

Whaddya gonna do?

I gave Alex a kiss and wished her pleasant dreams, since she had work in the morning. Then I was off into the night.

Immediately, a few facts became apparent to me. First and foremost, my legs were not feeling very fresh, having had too little time to recover from 13 hours of hill repeats two weeks prior. Second, the little 85 foot hill that I had to climb in each loop was slowing me down more than I anticipated. Third, the steady 10-20 mph wind was blowing directly in my face during this climb.

I made a mental note of these potential issues and filed it away in a drawer labeled "Shit that Ryan can deal with later." Instead of focusing on the negatives, I tried to enjoy seeing my town from a totally new perspective.

For the first hour or so, a little fox would dart across the road in front of me at the same spot in each loop. I asked him repeatedly what he said, but evidently he was not feeling very conversational. Given the fact that I was a headlamp-wearing neon yellow intruder in his part of the neighborhood, I couldn't fault him for that.

The second hour was marked by a state trooper patrolling the neighborhood, looking for people violating the order against group gatherings I guess. He was driving essentially my race loop but in reverse, so we passed each other every five minutes. I wondered what I would tell him if he stopped me and decided that I could say I was running a marathon. That seemed more plausible than the truth.

The remaining night hours were unremarkable. Just plodding along in the darkness at a steady pace trying to ignore the fact that my legs were complaining just a little bit too loudly at this point in the run. I hit the 25 mile mark at 4:10, or exactly 10:00/mi. If I could just hold that pace and not stop for any breaks, I'd have a 16:40 100 miler in the bag. Ha!

At least there were messages of encouragement painted on the road!

My nutrition was a motley assortment of leftover stuff from prior races: Gu waffles, gels, Coke, Ensure, and a few backup bags of Tailwind, which I wanted to avoid using since it has given me issues with hyponatremia. Unfortunately, the freezing conditions overnight turned the waffles into inedible hockey pucks, and my supply of gels was quickly depleted. I chugged an Ensure and chased it with a swig of coffee to help keep it down. That did the trick although it left me feeling bloated. But as the old saying goes, better bloated than depleted. I'm pretty sure Ben Franklin said that.

As the sun rose, the town started coming to life. The birds began to sing and the first early morning runners took to the streets. I swapped out my headlamp for a hat and sunglasses, which immediately made me look ten times cooler. And as we all know, a cool runner is a fast runner.

Around 7:30, my friend Scott stopped by to run a few loops with me (well, to run across the road from me maintaining a responsible distance). Scott had just run a solo 50K as his first ultra, so we compared notes:

"How are you feeling?"

"My legs are kinda shitty."

"Yeah"

My pace was beginning to slip into the 11:00/mi range, but Scott pulled me through the 50 mile mark in 8:40. That meant that a 17 hour finish was out of the question but it left me over ten hours to do the final 50 miles. That time seemed very doable, barring catastrophe. My reward for 50 good miles was a shot of Fireball which went down pleasantly.

I forgot that bottle in my pocket for hours and then handed
it off to my very surprised wife when she came out to see me

Scott left, but the town was still coming to life. One side effect of the stay at home order is that everyone and their mother has taken up running or walking. I began to pass other groups regularly, only occasionally revealing to them the true insanity of my intentions. Mostly the conversation went like this:

"You've been running for a long time. Are you running a marathon or something?"

"Something like that."

Fortunately, Alex was more forthcoming with the details of my run, and by mid-morning the family next door was cheering for me whenever I passed by. A few others caught on, and before I knew it, I had regular cheering squads all along my route. That was a nice way to meet my neighbors.

I passed the 100K mark in 10:56, which was a 40 minute improvement over my previous best. However, I had to stop repeatedly to stretch my increasingly grouchy IT bands, and it was getting more and more difficult to start running after these breaks.

But on the bright side, I also smelled terrible

Alex had a break from work somewhere in here and was able to crew for me for a little bit. I was able to eat a single bite of the bagel that she made for me, but she also filled a few bottles with Tailwind, which thankfully went down easily.

As morning turned to afternoon, my pace continued to slip. I hit mile 75 in 13:35, having averaged close to 12:00/mi over the prior 25 miles. This was cutting into my buffer. I couldn't afford to slow down much more than this.

Around mile 80, Alex finished work for the day and was able to run the occasional loop with me. My mom also stopped by and alternated loops with Alex. It was fantastic to have some company for the first time since Scott left. Despite the pain in my legs, I still had plenty of energy. To pass the time Alex and I happily reminisced about all the meltdowns we have seen at races over the years (mostly my own).

"Remember that time I was so cranky that you thought
I was going to ask for a divorce at the finish line?"

That damn 85 foot hill was getting more imposing with each loop, and my pace dipped into the 12:30s. It was now looking like I would barely squeak in under 19 hours. A new plan materialized in my mind: If I could bank 20 minutes, that would allow me to walk the final two mile "victory loop" with a beer in my hand and Alex by my side. That sounded wonderful.

With Alex able to grab food and water for me, I powered through mile after mile without stopping. After every loop I recalculated the pace that I needed to average to finish under the 19 hour cutoff. It was looking like I would just make it. With 96 miles elapsed, Scott came back out and we all ran one last loop together.

I reached mile 98 with 18:18 on the clock. I had 42 minutes left to do the final two miles, and I intended to use every minute of that time. Alex grabbed me a beer from the house and I was finally done running for the day.

Victory beer in hand. Time to walk it in!

They say the best reward at the end of a 100 mile race is that you get to stop running, and boy was that ever true for me. These stout mountain legs were not built for running on asphalt!

With 100.08 miles showing on my watch, I reached my house for the final time, crossing the makeshift finish line that Alex set up for me. Final time 18:57:41.

That was dumb.

Postmortem

I'm happy to come away from this with a 40 minute PR in the 100 mile distance despite not setting myself up with ideal conditions. Another week of tapering and a flatter course would have done wonders for my pace, but maybe that just leaves some meat on the bone for my next 100 mile PR attempt. I'm not sure when that will be though. I really dislike running on roads.

One interesting aspect of a month-long race is that it is still going on as I write this, so I have no idea what place I will finish in. Good luck to all the other runners!



25 mile splits
1st 25: 4:10
2nd 25: 4:30
3rd 25: 4:55
4th 25: 5:22

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Virtual Race #1: Springathlon Vert Is Real Challenge

Unless you've been living under a rock for the last month, you are aware that COVID-19 has pretty much shut down the entire earth, meaning that races are cancelled indefinitely. Thankfully for the running community, companies like Spring Energy have stepped up to create virtual challenges for those of us who need some external motivation.

In mid-March, Spring announced their Vert Is Real challenge, a virtual competition to rack up as much vertical gain as possible in a single activity. Seeing as hill repeats feature prominently in my training, I figured a long hill session - say 20,000 feet of climbing - would put me near the top of the leader board. That wouldn't be my best ever total, but I wasn't willing to spend 48 hours racking up elevation gain again.

The Route

In keeping with the social distancing spirit of the event, I needed to find a route that was close to home, lightly trafficked, and had a lot of elevation change per mile. Thankfully my local hill fit the bill perfectly. Packing 685' of gain into a 1.31 mi out and back, this climb up Cushetunk Mountian was just about perfect. In fact, I have used it so often in training that I created a Strava segment for it.

On clear sunny days, this trail sees a good amount of hikers who come out for a view of Round Valley Reservoir. I found myself hoping for some rain to keep the trails clear, and thankfully that's exactly what happened.

The "Race"

Usually in race reports, I focus on the people I met or the interesting parts of the course. Unfortunately, there was really none of that. This is the view that I had most of the day:

Gray skies and a brown forest

And the only person I talked to was my wife when she came out to hike a "lap" with me.

While that probably sounds pretty dull, it actually became meditative after a while. I just focused on my breathing, made sure to eat once in a while, and churned out 25 minute laps like clockwork.

As rain showers passed through, the moss and shrubs took on that fluorescent green color, which in my mind signifies that they're pretty happy with life. Squirrels rustled around in the brush just out of sight as I huffed my way up each climb, and a Pileated woodpecker headbutted its way into a dead tree next to the trail.

One by one I checked off each of the 30 laps required to get me to my goal of 20,000 feet. Every 5,000 feet or so, I had an Ensure and a swig of coffee from my mug (which thankfully was still pretty warm at the end of the day). My reward to myself for hitting 10,000 feet was to text some friends.

After almost 13 hours, I reached the end of my journey.

Final Stats

39.53 miles
20,552 feet
12:55:17 elapsed

This would turn out to be good enough for 10th place, which juuuust made me eligible for a sweet 20% off code for Spring products (race winners got store credit). But more importantly, it resulted in a ridiculous looking elevation profile on Strava that I can look at whenever I need a reminder that I'm not right in the head.

So I got that going for me, which is nice.

Future Plans

Unfortunately, NJ state parks closed down shortly after this event, so my trail running will probably be on hold for a while.

However, I did manage to run a 19 hour virtual timed event two weeks later, so stay tuned for that report.