In 2016, Heather and I traveled to Needville, Texas so that she could run her first 100 mile race at the Brazos Bend 100 miler. I ran the 1/2 marathon and then paced her at the end of her 100 miler. She dropped out of the race at around 80 miles. Actually, to be more precise, I pulled her at 80 miles; she wanted to continue. I was concerned for her health and felt like it was unsafe for her to proceed. I've often wondered if I made the right decision that day or, if I was too emotional attached and made the call because it was too hard for me to watch her suffer. She ran the first 50 miles very well; she was conservative but still ahead of schedule and moving well. By 65-70 miles, she had started to suffer from some serious stomach issues. By the time I had started pacing, she was starting to slow down significantly but was still mostly running. Her run turned into a walk and her walk turned into, well, a REALLY slow walk; probably around 2-3km per hour. In addition to this, I had made a significant mistake as a pacer as well which impacted my decision-making ability. After running the 1/2 marathon, I volunteered for the rest of the day and was in charge of driving the shuttle vehicle at the race. A pacer should spend the day taking care of themselves so that they can spend the night taking care of their runner, which is not what I did. I was exhausted. Heather was falling asleep and staggering on the trail. She was hallucinating, but determined to continue. She had built a huge time cushion in the first 50 miles and could have easily walked it in for a 27 hour finish. However, because she was now walking at half her regular walking pace, and frequently stopping for necessary washroom breaks, we were now going to be very close to the 30 hour cutoff. At one point, she stopped to use the washroom, and I actually lay down and fell asleep. When she came out of the washroom, she couldn't find me in the dark. Bad pacer! Eventually, she got to the point where she was barely moving, wasn't taking in any calories, was stopping every few minutes to go to the washroom, and was no longer going to meet the cutoff. I made the call and told her that she couldn't continue. She trusted me and called it quits. A month later, she was supposed to pace me in a 100 miler in Florida. Since she recovered really quickly and still had a really high fitness level, I urged her to run the 100 herself. She did and she finished her first 100! She said she would never do another one. I was actually relieved because it was hard to watch her push her body that hard.
As time passed, she eventually started feeling the need for redemption. She wanted to go back to Brazos Bend to settle the score. We decided that we would both run the race. Our friend, Steve Hunter, would crew and pace her and I would run it solo.
The weather forecast was bad. Really bad. On race day morning at 3:00am we were woken by an alarm on Heather's phone informing us of a flash flood warning in the area. Yikes! Needless to say, the course was very wet and very muddy.
To briefly sum up my race, I will say that it didn't go as planned. I went out too fast but was forced to slow down as the conditions went from bad to worse. I was through 50 km in 5hrs, and 50 miles in about 9:20. I was frustrated by the mud and my hips were sore. I probably walked 40 out of the next 50 miles, which sucks. However, I walked away from the race with a lot of positives:
1) The race was scenic and beautiful. Lots of wildlife including plenty of alligators.
2) My nutrition was on point. No stomach issues, no nausea, ate lots of great food.
3) At the risk of sounding arrogant, my walking was really good. My running sucked, but my walking was really fast. I was able to maintain an 8:30-9:00/km pace the entire time.
4) Even with all that walking, I met my goal and earned the big "Sub 22 Hour" buckle.
5) Most importantly, I got to witness Heather achieve something really important to her.
So now, lets talk about the real story here; Heather's race.
As usual, Heather was smart. She started slow, and stuck to her race plan, which was to run for 25 minutes and then walk for 5 minutes. During the 5 minute walk, she was to focus on nutrition and hydration. She was slower through 50 miles than she was last time she was at Brazos Bend but the conditions were really bad this year and she was taking care of herself, which is the important part. I saw her many times throughout the day on the 6 loop course. She always looked happy and we would stop for a moment so I could find out how she was doing, get a hug, and head on our separate ways. Steve started pacing after about 107km and was to stay with her for 54km, which was the final 2 loops of the course.
In my 5th loop, when we crossed paths, she was starting to slow down and said her stomach was starting to bother her. I feared that this was going to be a major set-back. In my final loop, we crossed paths for the last time, she was looking better and was in good spirits. Based on the distance between us, I figured she would be finishing between 26 and 27 hours. What I had forgotten to factor in was the fact that she is an absolute rock star! With the help of her pacer, Steve, she would pass 11 people in the last loop, and run the final 7k faster than she had moved since the beginning of the race. She was so fast, that I nearly missed her finish.
After I finished my race, I packed up all of our belongings, loaded the car, and went to have the greatest shower of my life! I was caked in mud and cold so I was in no rush to get out. Once I made my way back to the finish line, I realized that someone had taken our folding chair so I had nowhere to sit. I wasn't expecting her for a while so I decided to drive over to the last aid station to see her there. However, just before reaching the car, I could hear the volunteers with cowbells signifying that a runner was coming through. I turned around just in time to see a runner sprinting through the finishing chute with a red rain poncho. Of course, it was Heather. She finished in 25:08 in dreadful conditions. This was a 3.5 hour personal best for her. My race was insignificant in comparison to the sheer joy and tremendous pride I felt while watching my beautiful wife cross the finish line. Her pacer, Steve, was also really impressed with her effort and determination. As a side note, even though she packed A LOT of running jackets, she wore the dollar store rain poncho from start to finish. It had stopped raining at least 12 hours earlier.
We rested for a few hours back at our hotel but had to catch a flight later in the evening so we packed up and headed to the airport. Here's where things got weird...
Our rental car had quite a bit of mud inside so, just before reaching the Houston airport, we got off the highway to fill up on gas and vacuum out the car. We searched for the closest gas station. When I got out of the car to pump, there were people yelling at each other and inside the gas station, it smelled of marijuana and a rowdy group of people were drinking beer and gambling at some casino games. It was definitely not was I was use to but, hey, none of my business. I just carried on. After filling up, I had to drive around the back to the vacuum. This area made the gas station look like the Hilton by comparison. There were a number of people hanging out by the vacuum drinking beer around a garbage can fire. As I got out, I was approached by a man who looked like he was down on his luck and told me that he was there with his wife and that they were homeless. For a few bucks, he would vacuum my car out for me. First of all, I pride myself in being very open-minded and tolerant. I understand that bad things can happen to good people and I don't judge others on their current life situation. Second, he wasn't just asking for money, he was essentially asking for work, which I can appreciate. Also, I definitely wanted to avoid any unnecessary confrontation so I said that he had a deal. We got out of the car so that he could vacuum for us. While out of the car, Steve and I noticed a man a few feet away pouring out a line of drugs onto something in his hand. Another man by the fire was smoking a joint. Not a great situation but nobody seemed bothered by us being there. The man vacuuming did a very thorough job and I handed him $5 for a job well done. As we drove off, a police officer pulled in and gave us a very stern look as we drove off.
The police officer clearly thought that we were buying drugs and quickly turned around to follow us. After a few minutes of very careful driving, he turned onto a side street and I breathed a sigh of relief. Even though we hadn't done anything wrong, it was still a bit unnerving. I nearly missed my ramp to get back on the highway and had to cut across a couple of lanes to get over- there were no cars anywhere near us. However, it was definitely an illegal lane change and within seconds of getting on the highway, the same officer was back on my tail but this time with flashing lights. He wanted all of our driver's licenses and had a lot of questions in regards to why we were at that gas station, and, more specifically, the car wash area at the back. Clearly this was a known drug trafficking location, which we would have had no way of knowing. I explained the entire situation, but he didn't believe me for a minute. He wanted information about our hotel, why we got off the highway, and where we were heading. He went back to his truck, ran our plates and licenses, and likely looked into our hotel story. Basically, he was trying to make us sweat. When he returned, he was a little more straight forward and asked us to be honest with him as he gave us a true Texas stare-down, with, for added effect, a mid-sentence spit. He wanted to know if we purchased drugs. Eventually, he let us go. Truthfully, there are no hard feelings. I fully grasp how it must have looked. We were in a known drug trafficking location, I gave someone cash and then drove off, I made an illegal lane change that may have looked like I was being evasive. I definitely thought that someone would be on the receiving end of a cavity search and really hoped that it was Steve and not me or Heather (sorry Steve).
We landed in Detroit just before midnight, spent the night there, and headed for home in the morning. We did make sure that we hit the IHOP for breakfast before leaving good ole 'Merica and we even had the honour of sitting one booth over from the King himself, Elvis Presley. If it wasn't actually Elvis, he sure fooled us and even gave the server a "Thank you very much, darlin" when she brought his coffee. I can't make this stuff up.
As always, it was an adventure. Life is good. As we travel, we always meet a lot of interesting individuals. We love listening to their stories and we try to embrace and celebrate our differences because, without these differences, life would not be nearly as interesting as it is. Heather has taught me to assume the best in people, give them the benefit of the doubt, and treat them kindly. I'm working on it.
Thanks for taking the time to read this- it was a long one. It is my penultimate blog post; only one more post to wrap up the year. I'm trying to decide whether or not I should make a final push and try to reach 50 races for the year. However, the couch is looking comfy!