On Saturday, February 3, I ran the Rocky Raccoon 100 miler in Huntsville, Texas. I've been drawn to this race for many years but couldn't make it work until now. This was my 40th birthday present to myself!
A few days before we left for the trip, a group of friends met up for a run, followed by some drinks to celebrate my birthday. My partner, Heather, had made the arrangements and I was really looking forward to it. A couple hours before the run, I started feeling sick while at work. She suggested we cancel but I insisted on going. It was a great night and I was very grateful that I was able to see everyone. However, the next morning I felt horrible. I started taking Cold FX immediately and, considered the fact that I may not be able to run the race. I was lucky in the sense that I nipped it in the bud before it got really bad. I was sick on race day and had a painful cough but it could have been a lot worse- like it is now!
I traveled to Texas with my friends Dion, Steve, and Heather. Dion and Steve were also running the 100 miler and Heather was crewing us all and then pacing Dion for the final 40km. Steve and I had a pretty aggressive race plan that had us finishing at 18:40. We abandoned that plan pretty early! After 40km, although we were only a few minutes off pace, we knew that we could not maintain the effort level- especially as the course conditions deteriorated with the ongoing rainfall. I can't speak for Steve but, for me, the pace seemed easy, fluid, and effortless until about 25k and then, quite suddenly, I found myself struggling. My hip flexor was acting up and my energy level was low. We had run every hill but we weren't forcing it; the hills seemed runnable. I was really excited to see Heather after the 1st loop. I complained that I was feeling off but what I didn't say was that I was already feeling like dropping. The idea entered my mind but I didn't entertain the notion and quickly dismissed it. This was the only time in the race that I thought about not finishing.
Steve and I started our second loop (runners complete 4 x 40km loops) and, even at a slower pace, I felt like I was working too hard. Something just felt off, and then it happened... At only 42km into the race, I had a hallucination. I've hallucinated in 100 mile events before. At the Sulphur Springs 100, my first 100 miler, I was quite worried that I wouldn't finish when a large red square with a circle cut-out in the middle started following me in the final stretch of the race. Another time, at the Haliburton Forest 100, I became very emotional and had to fight back the tears when I found the most vibrant and beautiful maple leaf that was absolutely bursting with colour. Trying not to cry, I stated that it was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen and I put it in my pack to give Heather afterwards. When I finished the race, I was excited to show her the leaf but when I retrieved it, I was disappointed to find nothing extraordinary about it at all (Heather still acted as though it was a thing of beauty). Most recently, at the Leadville 100, I saw both a gigantic dead rat and a blue duck that was upside down. Neither existed outside of my mind. All of these hallucinations happened in the very late stages of the race when I was exhausted and fighting sleep deprivation, which I tend to struggle with. This time, I was running behind Steve when suddenly a large white wolf streaked down the trail so quickly that it was a bit off a blur. It startled me and I quickly jumped out of the way to avoid being knocked over. This really worried me because it was only a little over 4 hours into the race and I took it as a sign that something was off and I needed to adjust. 3km later, upon leaving an aid station , I told Steve that I had to let him go on without me. Admittedly, it made me sad. Steve is a great guy and I really enjoy his company. We were relying on each other and neither of us had a pacer. For me, it would be the first time not having someone to run with in the late stages of the race. We had discussed this before the race and agreed that neither of us would hold the other runner back.
Now that I was on my own, I was running my own race. I was slower overall but I pushed a bit when I felt good and laid off when I started to struggle. At this new pace, I was certainly enjoying the experience more, even though it meant that a sub 24 hour finish would probably be a struggle. I decided not to focus on that. Not yet.
I didn't bring anything to the race other than dry clothing and a hand-held bottle. I relied on the food and drinks at the aid stations, which were plentiful. I ate pb and j sandwiches, orange slices, and the odd cheese quesadilla. Later in the race, I also had some soup broth. They served Tailwind, which I mixed 50/50 with water as it was too sweet for me. No stomach issues. I wasted no time at aid stations and tried to be in and out in less than 30 seconds. With 6 stations per loop, mismanaged aid station visits can absolutely ruin your race.
I was really excited to see Heather after 50 miles. I was feeling better and was really trying to be positive. I knew it was too long, but I spent a full 10-15 minutes with her. I ate, drank, grabbed my headlamp, changed out of my wet clothes (It was nice to be dry for 5 minutes), and enjoyed a shoulder massage. I started my 3rd loop feeling human again.
Loop 3 was pretty uneventful, which I am grateful for. I was sore all over but my hip flexor was no longer bothering me at all, and aside from some minor chaffing issues, I had no specific issues. Just your general wear and tear stuff that goes with running these races. I knew that every single person was sore and that I was probably better off than most since I was one of the few lucky ones that didn't fall on the muddy and very rooty course. I had a lot to be thankful for, which is hard to recognize at this stage in a race. I enjoying seeing Steve, Dion, and another friend, Rich at different out-and-back sections on the course. Steve, Dion, and I made sure to use these opportunities to share how much we were hurting whereas Rich was super positive all day and just offered encouraging words (he mustn't have got the memo).
At mile 85ish, I felt I had run a consistent race so far. I was slower each loop but that was to be expected and I was still running everything except the hills. I never allowed for more than 5 minutes of walking at a time. I was stiff and slow but moving forward. I decided that I should be able to get in under 24 hours without changing anything but that if I wanted to push for the last 4 hours, I may be able to sneak in under 23 hours. I went for it, which was a decision I would question in the final hour. There were a couple minor issues: my headlamp died but, fortunately, I was only 20 minutes from my drop bag, which had spare batteries. Next, my watch died. No big deal except that I was now working extra hard because I didn't know what my pace was or how much time I had to get in the distance. By this point in the race I had memorized all the distances of each section. My last issue was that my timing device, which we wore around our ankles had actually cut into my leg and was quite sore. These were all manageable issues. In the final hour I enjoyed the sounds of owls hooting back and forth, which I love, and saw the largest white rabbit I have ever seen. It was actually double the size of the biggest rabbit I had ever seen prior to this and I'm 75% sure it was more than a figment of my imagination. I crossed the finish line in 22:49ish. Heather was out pacing Dion so I gave myself a high five and sat down. I took off my shoes and socks, which had been wet for most of the day to find very sore but surprisingly blisterless feet. A bit of a shock and a testament to the Injiji socks that I was wearing for the first time. I didn't remove my socks or shoes at all during the race. I changed into dry clothes and waited. Steve and I had crossed paths earlier and he had hyperextended his knee and was in a lot of pain. He didn't think a sub 24 finish was in the cards but he crushed it at the end and finished way earlier than I expected. Unfortuntately, I missed his finish since I wasn't expecting him yet. We went back to the hotel to shower (in separate showers) and then I came back to watch Dion and Heather cross the line. I didn't catch Rich's finish either but, he did great. At the end of the day, we all finished. Not a bad day.
On a side note, one really cool feature that the Race Director implemented was a belt buckle trade-in concept. For those of you who don't really follow ultra running, typically, the prize for finishing a 100 mile race is a belt buckle. In this race, if a runner finishes 5 times, they can choose to trade in their 5 buckles for a really cool 500 mile buckle. Finishers then have the option of getting a shiny new buckle or choosing a vintage buckle that had been traded in. Steve and I both opted for a vintage buckle.
We spent the rest of the day travelling back to Ontario from Texas. We didn't arrive home until 5am on Monday morning, which gave Heather and I exactly 2.5 hours of sleep before getting up to go to work. It was a rough day! Heather was an absolute trooper and didn't let her exhaustion prevent her from being an incredible mother and supportive partner. She was up for just as long as I was, selflessly crewed us throughout the day, ran for over 10 hours with Dion and then, after working all day, she encouraged me to rest while she made a delicious dinner for our 6 picky kids. For obvious reasons, this is what I am most grateful for.
When running a race of any considerable distance, you spend a lot of time contemplated life. I decided that I need to step away from the 100 mile distance for a while. Although I get a tremendous amount of satisfaction from finishing, I can find that satisfaction through plenty of other means. Even after 8 finishes, 100 milers aren't getting any easier and I'm certainly not getting any better at running them. I'm not going to register for another one until I feel really eager to do so. With that being said, finishing this one did get me into the Western States Lottery again and I certainly wouldn't turn down that opportunity.
There you have it; race 4 of the year is done. Next weekend, I shift gears completely and try to run a 5k. It's hard to visualize that right now since I am sick in bed and can barely walk.
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