The Run for Ron 50-mile ultramarathon is in the books. It was a long, painful book, but it's complete. There are, of course, stories and lessons that come with any major endurance event.
My first ultramarathon was a 40-miler in conjunction with the Fox Cities Marathon, last year. That was basically a round trip, with the last 26 miles being the actual marathon. My second ultra was the Fall 50, a point-to-point run through Door County, Wisconsin (Gil's Rock to Sturgeon Bay).
This run gave new meaning to the theory of running in circles. I started just after 3 a.m. from Lambeau Field, home of the Green Bay Packers. It was somewhere around 33F and windy, so I opted to wear running tights, two shirts over my tri top, and gloves. As most ultrarunners can tell, starting a run by yourself in the dark of night can be a truly lonely experience.
I can't say enough about the race director and his crew, as the course was extremely well marked, even that early in the morning. Signs, painted arrows, and aid stations helped me stay on the right roads. There were no cars on the roads, and my safety lights were almost overkill.
After about two hours, I was back in the parking lot of Lambeau Field with 13 miles completed. The trunk of my car was a personal aid station, complete with fuel, Gatorade and extra gear. I removed one of the extra shirts, refilled my bottles, and headed back to the starting line for the second loop.
There was a good deal more "company" on the second lap, with more cars on the road, runners starting to head to the race, and volunteers setting up aid stations. The second lap was also easier because I had already run it and knew the route a bit better. I also knew where each of the porta-johns was located, so I could judge when to stop for potty breaks.
The second lap, only 11 miles, took a bit less time, and I made my second return to Lambeau just after 7 a.m. I stopped at the car for my gear check bag, made a bunch of changes (ditched the tights, removed the second long sleeve shirt, and restocked my fuel), and met up with a co-worker and another friend who would be supporting some of us along the course. Leaving her with a bag of M&Ms (emergency fuel), I headed to the start line.
One of the challenges with timing an ultrarun that includes an organized race is hitting the start line at the proper time. This year, I had nearly 25 minutes, which is really too long. Though I didn't cool all the way down, my legs really disliked the "restart" after the long rest interval. Luckily, it was considerably warmer than both my 3 a.m. start and the predicted temperature at race start.
Soon enough, the horn sounded and we were off. Again. Since I use a 5-minute run/two-minute walk Galloway plan for ultramarathons, it wasn't long before thousands of runners were passing me on my first walk interval. But knowing the distance in front of me, I stuck to the plan with great discipline.
Once again, a few short hours later, I was passing Lambeau Field heading toward the 11-mile mark of the marathon, the split off from the half-marathon, and roads that I hadn't run twice already, that morning.
I was also starting to deal with what had to be a blister developing on the bottom of my foot, just behind the toes. There was little complaining to be done, as it was quite obviously my fault. More on that, later.
The final 15 miles of the race were on "new" roads. I kept plodding along using the 5/2 plan, trying to get a feel for my pace. While I couldn't nail down a definite pace, I knew I was falling below the 10-minute pace of the first 25 miles. Eventually, the 4:30 and 5 hour pace teams pace me. I wasn't overly concerned, mostly because there was nothing I could do about it.
Around mile 15, the marathon course hits a long recreational trail. This is where things started to fall apart, for me. First, the trail follows the Fox River, and there was a strong, cold wind blowing across the trail. Second, spectator support along the trail is limited primarily to the few parks and crossings that exist. Finally, the suspected blister became a certainty, and the front part of my right foot was getting pretty tender.
I managed to keep the run/walk thing going, though some of the intervals got flipped (walk 5, run 2). I saw my friends at one point on the trail, and kept running until the mile 20 wall party. I ran through "the wall" and began what I knew was a 10K (6.2 mile) walk to the finish. My foot was one big blister, my legs had nothing left in them, and I knew I could make the finish around my 1 p.m. target.
Luckily, I was joined just after mile 20 by a first time marathoner who was dealing with some significant cramps. We wound up completing the rest of the marathon, together. That was a HUGE help for me, as the conversation helped keep my mind off the pain.
About 10 hours after I started (9:45 running time), I crossed the finish line. I knew that the pain I was in would subside within a few short days. I can only hope that the effort can, in some small way, help ease the suffering of Ron's wife, daughter, and other family members. Throughout the entire day, especially during the first 25 miles, my thoughts were focused on them.
A lot of people ask WHY I would consider running 50 miles at one shot. Honestly, it's because I can. And to prove I can. And in this case, it's because another CAN'T. If the idea of completing an ultramarathon boggles the imagination, please honor the effort by following the PayPal link just below my profile. There, you can make a donation to the Ron Smead Foundation. Those contributions will help ensure Ron's family is shielded from some of the financial pain of his passing.
Now, I promised "more" about the blisters and how it was actually my fault. It was, really. Does everyone remember the "nothing new on race day" rule? I do. I've been bitten by it in the past. And apparently learned nothing.
With all the training to get ready for this run, I'd gone through several pair of socks. Every pair of my favorite running sock was pretty threadbare. At the race expo, I bought several new pair. Same brand, same sock, same size. Same everything.
Well, except for the "been worn," "been washed" and "been tested on a long run" parts. While the cause of the blister could theoretically be worn shoes or the long mileage, I'm confident it is because of my stupidity. The socks just slipped more than the other pairs, likely because the new ones have yet to have all the "newness" washed out of them.
Perhaps THIS will be the lesson that sticks. But probably not. The blisters are nearly healed up and I can walk normally, again. By Saturday, I'll probably forget this ever happened.
Heard on The Bob and Tom Show, this morning. "I got into distance running, which is the worst mistake I've ever made. And I've been to jail several times." - Chad Daniels.
Haven't we all felt like that, at one time or another?
I'm working on finding a better graphic to show contributions to the Run for Ron Ultramarathon Challenge. Until I find something, here's what Excel was able to spit out. It isn't pretty, but it gets the information across.
I'll keep it as up-to-date as possible, based on responses from the site administrator. If you are interested in making a donation to this challenge, click on the PayPal button in the sidebar, and add "Ultraman" in the "Notes to Seller" section.
I'll also get links added, once Weebly decides to stop being broken.
RSS Feed