"You Can't Always Get What You Want..."

…But sometimes you get what you NEED

This song from my youth (1000 years ago) echoed in my head as I sat in the aid station at mile 27, seriously questioning my life decisions and, even more seriously, contemplating dropping out and having my 4th ever DNF in 300+ endurance competitions.  

But, I get ahead of myself.

BIG HORN 32-MILER, JUNE 19, 2021

A while back (can’t remember when, or even who the first person was who thought this up) my group of “dedicated” friends (I prefer this adjective to “crazy” for my ultrarunning family) floated the idea of doing the Big Horn Ultra in Sheridan, WY.  I really wasn’t thinking seriously about it until someone sent me the elevation profile of the 32-miler (pretty much my max distance I’m interested in currently), there was also an 18 miler, a 52 miler, and a 100 miler available.

YOU DID NOT HAVE TO ASK ME TWICE.

Those who know me know that I LOVE to run downhill, the thought of getting to go out West, run the Big Horn mountains, visit Wyoming for the first time in my life, spend time with “my” people AND get to blast a 13 mile downhill (foreshadowing, the word I will use for how I ACTUALLY went down that hill would be “shuffle” or “crawl” as opposed to “blast”) was very intriguing.

So I signed up, got flights and put together a loose training program.  

It was VERY loose (except for some really good heavy weight training that I figured would come in handy on that downhill, actually got back over 300lbs on my hex bar deadlift which felt great) until about 6 weeks out then I got fairly serious.  Got in some really strong long runs in the mountains, with plenty of downhills.  and felt really strong headed out to Wyoming.  

We traveled out the Wednesday before the race, as the 100 milers started on Friday morning (a unique thing about this race is all the races started at different times and at 3 different start locations, in a attempt to have everyone finish around the same time – very cool concept and worked really well for a huge park party afterwards) we got there late and settled in.

Thursday was a blur (this race also had the most pre-race activities I have ever encountered except maybe when I crewed at Western States)  the only thing I really remember is an incredible amount of tension and anxiety and discussion about driving, buses, drop off places and times, etc. I tend to zone out when people are all discussing and stressing about this stuff, most of this group seemed to really enjoy overplanning and overthinking so I just assume they will figure it all out and I will follow someone who knows what is going on! 

“Ready, Fire…. Aim” has served me well for 58+ years, why change now?

 It was also really interesting feeling the (fully deserved) anxiety of the 100-mile runners, the overall energy made me feel like I was racing the next day but I didn’t start till Saturday AM!

Funny side note, only in this group are you embarrassed when a server at a restaurant asks you what race you are running and you, sheepishly, say “I’m only doing the 32-miler”, better known as the “kids fun run” at Big Horn!

Earlier in the week during a presentation I had mentioned I was doing a 32-mile run in the mountains and someone in the room asked if I got a hotel room halfway through the race; he was serious.

PERSPECTIVE IS EVERYTHING. 

Friday was really fun and relaxed, pretty much the exact opposite of Thursday.  We took the bus to the start of the 100-miler so we could see them off – they got there like 90 minutes early (which would have made me crazy) not sure why, again, I wasn’t involved In the planning I was just “along for the ride”. We saw them off, went to a super cool place for breakfast, did some shopping for our races (we had 2 doing the 32-miler and 2 doing the 52-miler), did a quick prep (amazing how much easier it is to prep for 32 or 52 miles vs 100) chilled out and went out to a very early dinner.  More logistical issues, the 52 milers were running a point to point (I was also, sort of) and had to be bused to the start at 2:15 am, and had to walk to their shuttle, to take them to the bus – which made for a 1:30 am wake up time.

Someone on our bus put it best: “Big Horn is 33% physical, 33% mental and…… 33% logistics”.

So more changes, one of our runners didn’t want to walk to the start at 1:30 am alone so she slept in our room.  I didn’t want to wake up at 1:30 am (I got to sleep “in” to 3:45 am) so I moved into my new friend “Memphis Chris’s” room.

GREAT MOVE-IN THEORY

Bad move-in reality. 

Chris snores.  Like REALLY snores.

I was nodding off at 8:30 pm, unfortunately, I heard the telltale signs beginning at 8:15 pm (my dad snored badly so I know what is coming when you hear that heavy breathing and I am a fairly light sleeper the night before a race) – make a long story short, I didn’t get to sleep till about 1 am – you don’t need more than 3 hours sleep before an ultra, right?

The good part was, anytime I felt like it was going to be a tough day, or I didn’t prepare enough, or I didn’t sleep enough all I had to do was think of the 100 milers and that quickly put it in perspective!

So, after 3 wonderful hours of sleep, up at 3:45 am and get prepped.  I was feeling really good and excited and blessed as I did my morning prayers and my normal pre-race rituals. 

Chris drove us to the rec center (which was where we would leave our car with all our post-race stuff in it, which was NOT the finish so we would need a ride to get here after the race – remember the “33% logistics” part of this race?) on time and we took a 1.5-hour bus ride to the start, which was fun and had some amazing views as we climbed into the mountains.  

On the bus, everyone who had done this race before (which seemed like EVERYONE except Chris and me) was saying how happy they were that it was a “dry” year and we wouldn’t deal with rain and mud.  I didn’t give this much thought but was enjoying the 50 degrees and low humidity (more foreshadowing, I didn’t give much thought to the heat and direct sun in this race – my, extremely incorrect, vision of this course was 70 ish degrees, no humidity and running on single track through beautiful pine tree forests, lots of shade, non-technical and, again, an amazing ½ marathon downhill at the end to show off my finely tuned GA downhill running skills)

I COULD NOT HAVE BEEN MORE WRONG

(Well, the humidity was super low so we had that going for us, which was nice.)

We also had some altitude to deal with (our started at around 7000 feet, up to 9000) however the “fun run” people would not stay high too long so I wasn’t too worried about it, I usually don’t feel much until above 10,000 feet and had done plenty of high humidity training which the research says can really help with the altitude. 

It didn’t.

We got out of the bus about 7 minutes before the race started, it was a rolling start between 7 am and 8 am but both Chris and I wanted the most time possible and to take advantage of the early am cool temps (Chris was actually also concerned about the cutoffs, I was not, but in hindsight, I should have been!)

My overall feeling at the start was joy and gratitude.  Chris and I walked a bit together to loosen up, then we started up a nice climb to get the day started.  Definitely breathing a bit harder than normal but no big deal, dialed back the effort a bit and it felt fine.  

Within an hour I realized my first (of many) mistakes: wearing all black, in direct sun, at altitude.  As we go up the first climb in full direct sunlight I ask another runner: “when do we hit the single track, there isn’t much more exposed like this is there?”.  He says” this race is 99% exposed don’t you know that?”

OOPS

Couple of things here, I am NOT a heat runner and specifically do not do well in direct sunlight.  Add to that high altitude and single-digit humidity and I was in for a rough day.  To put it in perspective, I ran with a friend in a 40 mile race years ago and he noted that every time we would leave the woods and get out into direct sunlight I would slow down and my posture and mood would change for the worse.   

It was 20-35 degrees that day at no altitude and the direct sun bothered me. 

Did I mention it got up to 101 degrees this day?

Secondly, I only told a couple of people this (those that know me know I don’t like to “give energy” to negative things, especially injuries) but I had been dealing with my old Achilles injury for months before this race.  This is a long-standing injury (I Partially tore it 3x over 17 years from 1999 – 2016) and I had done everything, except surgery, to fix it.  I finally found a treatment plan (plus I took 5 months off running when I did it) of “AminoFix” Injections that allowed me to run pain-free, for the first time in 17 years, back in 2017.  (DM me if you want more info on this and who does it in Georgia)

Unfortunately, the pain flared up again during my last ultra, the Mountain Mist 50k in January of 2021 and had been getting progressively worse leading up to this race.  I have been treating it, doing PT, etc trying to just get through this race then I will take time off again and do the injections again.  The pain had gotten so bad it hurt just to walk around town before the race, I can deal with pain but this gets to the point where I have to adjust my gait and foot landing and that is when I know I have to take a break and fix it again.  Really praying I caught it early enough that I won’t need another 5 months off, but who knows. 

Anyway, I really enjoyed the first 3 hours of this race, it wasn’t that hot, the course was VERY different than anything I had ever run and the people in the race and the aid stations were super fun and friendly.  

And did I mention the views?  Pictures do not do it justice, but when they say “gods country” or “big sky” they really, really mean it.  

AMAZING. 

I really thought I was staying on top of hydration, electrolytes and nutrition but I started feeling the “twinges” of upcoming cramps only 3 hours into the race.  This was really surprising cause I had done some really strong training runs, up to 7 hours long, and with WAY more elevation gain than this race with minimal cramping.  Coming up to the 15 ish mile aid station there was a really long, exposed (duh) and tough climb that was also mentally tough cause you could see the aid station from like 5 miles away and I was feeling terrible (physically, mentally and spiritually very low).  I thought to myself, I have never felt this bad this early in a 50k, how am I going to make this finish?

So I used my first (of 2) “secret weapon” with cramping – a shot of Fireball whiskey (not kidding, not sure if it’s the alcohol or the strong spicy cinnamon flavor but it really does the trick for me).  10 minutes later, was the best I felt mentally, spiritually and physically since the beginning of the race.  This was also the high point of the race (around 9000 feet) so I knew, and this was my mantra I kept repeating, if I just get to mile 20 its all downhill and better and better altitude all the way to the finish.

The good feelings did not last.

Headed up to mile 20 was the steepest climb of the race – not long (maybe ½ mile) but they said it climbs 700 feet in a ½ mile.  Again, I had done so much worse in training so this didn’t concern me before the race.  

What was killing me was my legs felt amazing, strong, and ready to go, but the cramps and exhaustion from the heat were slowing me to a crawl.

Then I saw a familiar face up ahead (Trena, or “dude” or “Thelma”) who was in the 100-miler (all 4 races merge at one point on the course) and I yelled up to her so she knew I had “caught” her -  and she said, “I’ve been waiting for you to show up to pace me to the finish”.  So, like an idiot, I pushed myself really hard to catch her on this climb.

This, basically, was the end of my being able to run in this race.

I cannot describe the cramps I was feeling on this climb.  My legs would lock up and not even work, or my feet would cramp while inverted so I would have to hike on the outside of my foot.  I would bend over to stretch my legs, and my abs would lock up!  I’ve never felt anything like it.  At one point I was convinced they were more than cramps and I was having some sort of stroke!  Of course, this was the last climb in the race and the 13 mile downhill I had been looking forward to for months started at the top.  

I did catch up to Trena, she took (IMHO) the best picture of the day:

We talked a little and I said would catch her on the downhill once the cramps settled down.

I never saw her again until the finish. 

Yes, you read that right, I got dropped by a 100-miler (who was about 80 miles into her race already) while I was running 32 miles – I will never hear the end of this I am sure but I’m actually very happy for her and proud of her, and the fact that I do her nutrition coaching is even more satisfying. 

This is where it gets really ugly.  No matter what I did, the cramps would not go away – looking back I was not drinking enough for that level of heat and direct sun, I was on top of salt but I just needed more fluids I think.  

Top this off with the psychological beatdown of being on totally runnable fun downhills and basically fast hiking or walking 90% of it.  

As I ran (well, crawled) through the canyon leading to the final aid station (again, AMAZING views) I was out of water and actually asking other runners and random hikers for cold plain water, mostly to just pour over my head.  It was brutal, I would sit and take a break anytime I found a small patch of shade (very rare) and just prayed that the next aid station had ice and something cold to drink (another thing that I realized is I had similar cramps in the Barkley Fall Classic, and they had nothing cold to drink as well).  I was in such bad shape I sat down 100 yards from the aid station even though I could actually see it up ahead of me!

Once I got there I really thought my race was over (even though this was mile 27 and I had 5 flat miles of mostly road left).  The aid station workers took one look at me and told me I wasn’t leaving till I got my core temp down. 

 I didn’t argue.

The worst part was they had a chair for me, in the shade, and I couldn’t sit down because when I did, every muscle in my legs and abs would lock up in excruciating pain (on the bright side the pain was so bad I couldn’t feel my Achilles at this point) so I just bent over a chair while they poured cold water on my head.

Finally, I was able to sit down, get ice on all the important parts of my body and they had COLD sodas, COLD watermelon, etc.  

Funny story, the guy that took care of me was named Dave and he really saved the day for me – I’m thanking him for the 50th time and he tells me he is not even an aid station worker, he DNFed the race (same reasons as me) and just stayed there to help out.

Gotta love this sport.

Prior to this race, I think the longest I have ever stayed in an aid station is about 5-7 minutes, and that was in my 100 miler or The Georgia Death Race when I changed shoes and socks.

I spent 45+ minutes in this aid station.  

I was not doing well. 

Another funny story, as I am finally ready to leave (I was probably physically able to leave after 30 minutes of cooling down, but I was actually mentally scared to leave because I didn’t want to be out on the road if those cramps came back) Chris shows up!  He is so out of it he barely recognizes me, so I figure I will leave and walk real slow and he will catch me and we will “run” together to the finish.  

He was hurting like me so I didn’t see him till the finish as well.

The last 5 miles took me 2.5 hours to walk, the cramps were there anytime I tried to run so I just gave it up, gave the race to God and used this time to be grateful that I was able to salvage and finish the race when I really thought I would not.

To give you some perspective, I usually finish a 50k in about 7 hours, this one took me 9.5 hours (and again, the course itself was not hard at all, it was all about the conditions) and I was happy to finish at all!

The finish line celebration was great and everyone was safe in our group but everyone’s times were way slower than we expected – the drop out rate was over 50% in the longer races I think!

Lessons learned:

• Number one lesson, that I continue to learn: DO HARD THINGS. This is really one of the main keys to leading a happy, fulfilled, peaceful life! It may really, really suck when you are doing it but the reward is MORE than worth the suffering.

• Do more research into the conditions when you go to a new race, especially out west.

• Don’t wear all black when it is going to be 100+ degrees in direct sun.

• Drink more fluids, even when they are warm and you don’t want them.

• Totally immerse yourself in cold streams (not just your buff and your hat) when you have the opportunity, that might have saved my race way earlier.

• Don’t sleep in Memphis Chris’s room, ever.

BOTTOM LINE:

I had a vision of how I WANTED this race to unfold, God had a plan of what I NEEDED from this race.   The peace of mind and relaxation I have felt post-race have been worth every minute of suffering I felt for 9.5 hours last weekend.

Recovery and total gratitude time now.  

Thanks for reading and God Bless YOU and yours on all of your journeys.