93.6 miles in 14 days

I sign up for stupid shit.

There... I said it. I'm an impulse shopper when it comes to race registrations, and it often means that I dig myself into a hole I can't easily get out of. (Ooooo he ended a sentence with a preposition.) It is this type of behavior that has forced me to keep a detailed calendar as far out as 18 months and consider hiring an assistant. Unfortunately, I don't trust people, question most intelligences, and despise the thought of having to spend considerable amounts of time with any one individual.

October-ish: I enjoy the Rock-N-Roll race series and see that one is offered in St. Petersburg, Florida, on February 10th. Cheap hotels are available, and it can be a quick drive down for the night. Race #1.

November-ish: A co-worker mentions that the Gasparilla races in Tampa now offer an option to run the Ultra Challenge that involves a 15K and 5K on Saturday the 23rd followed by a half marathon and an 8K on Sunday the 24th. It's essentially back-to-back 15 mile days. A challenge, sure, but I can handle that. I even did that about a month earlier. Race 2, 3, 4, and 5.

December-ish: I stupidly start looking around for an ultra race (those longer than marathon distance) and find one up where I grew up in Destin, Florida, in the panhandle. It's February 17th. I sign up. Race #6. Mistake #1.

For the sake of completeness, I'll say that I PR'd at the St Pete RnR race with a time of 1:53:37. It was nearly two full minutes faster than my previous best... and I had a ton left in the tank. I could have broken 1:50 if I had pushed it. Regardless, it was well organized and a good race.

Thanks to CSD MacDill

On the back end, I completed the Gasparilla Ultra Challenge. That's all I'll say. I PR'd in the 15K only because that was my first time running that distance. Also, it was the first of the four, and I felt relatively good for it. I was honored to join the Communications Support Detachment out of MacDill AFB for the 5K portion. Since I wasn't going for speed, I didn't mind the slow but deliberate pace they kept. Good group. The Sunday races were painful, and the required time hack to complete the half marathon in order to get to the start line for the 8K forced me to push it on hurt legs. But, I did it.

Gasparilla SWAG: Keep Running and they'll keep giving you stuff

But, back to the Big Daddy. The Destin 50 Miler is a relatively small affair as far as races go. I've learned this is true of most ultras simply because there aren't enough morons (like me) around to clog registration. The race had a 50M and 50K race. I opted for the 50M. I've already run 3 marathons... what's 5 more miles? I wanted to do 25 more miles... for some ungodly reason.

The race started at 0500, and the shuttles were not the fastest from the parking lot to the start. I walked up as the race started, and I still had to get myself organized (safety pins, camelbak, etc). I ended up getting out about 5 minutes late. But, what's 5 minutes in a 50 Mile race, amiright?

The first two miles was an out-and-back that traced the same section of beach that the elite ultra runners were using to break the 24HR sand race distance record. Joe Fejes ran an inhuman 134 miles over the course of 24 hours, and I have no idea how.

Following that loop, we ran west 15 miles... then east 24 more before turning around for the 9 back to the start. I had my music but didn't listen to it. I listened to the ocean. It is a loud, bitch of an ocean that wouldn't shut up.

Stupid ocean.

My concerns going into the race (other than running 50 freaking miles) were three-fold:

1)Running in sand
2)Water crossings
3)Running on a slope/camber

Having grown up there, I knew the running in sand concern was minimal. Anyone that spends time in a beach town knows that the tidal area is fairly compact. Stay off the dunes, and loose sand isn't a problem. Check.

Having run often with wet shoes/socks, I was concerned with water crossings. Were they 3 feet wide? Twenty? A foot deep? I didn't recall them growing up, but I never walked 20 straight miles down a beach before. As it turns out, these things changed over the course of the day thanks to tides, but they were considerable. One in particluar (crossed twice) was about 20 feet across and as much as a foot deep. It was a river. But, I mitigated the risk with toe socks. Problem solved. Feet dried fairly quickly and showed to be no worse for wear after the race. Check.

Apparently, previous racers were worried about the camber, as well, since the question was addressed in the FAQs. The race director said he'd never heard any complaints in previous years. Ok... guess we'll see....

Either he was lying, ignored previous comments, or this year was the worse ever. My ankles and right knee have never been through such an ordeal.

The first 27 miles of the race were pretty easy (did I really just type that?). I held a steady 11 min/mile pace and felt great. Aid stations, operated by restaurants along the beach, popped up every 7 or 8 miles, and they complemented the usual race fare (GU gels, sports drinks, water, trail mix) with their specialties. This resulted in me bargaining with at least two aid stations to find me more of the bacon that they offered. I demanded that they have their supply restocked once I hit the turnaround and came back by.

Is bacon good race food? Yes. Why? Because, it's bacon. That's why.

As I passed the 26.2 mile point and realized I had run a marathon and had absolutely nothing to show for it, I got sad.

As I crossed 30 miles and looked down to find that my fingers had ballooned to twice their normal size, I debated whether I had a salt-intake issue. Was I taking in too much? Too little? The answer didn't really matter, because I wasn't going to stop eating the bacon. I was just wondering.

Destin 50 Mile Medal

My knee was killing me from mile 30 on. My left and right ankle were killing me from mile 34 and 42, respectively, until the end. It was quite miserable. But, I was my usual ebullient self at aid stations. What can I say? I'm a delight to be around... especially when I start hallucinating and talking to imaginary animals in Spanish.

Another racer was 3 minutes into a conversation with me before he realized I was talking to an invisible rhino named Fernando.

Had I maintained the pace I was running for the first 30 miles, I would have crossed in 10 hours... well ahead of my goal. I'm not naive enough to assume I wouldn't have slowed, but I would have put good money on a sub-10:30 finish. Sadly, I was hobbling the last 15 miles in a way that made me feel worse and worse with each step. I crossed in a time of 12:30... well past my expected time but still... it's not a DNF. My worries at that point were being in a condition to run the Gasparilla races the following week. My knee was fine (without the sloped course in Tampa, I didn't even notice my knee), but my ankles and the tendons therein were still inflamed and sore. They hadn't fully healed and let me know it.

But, I survived. I would definitely consider a 50M again in the future, but it won't be that one.

Either way, I won.

The Winter Park Road Race 10K... with bricks.

As many of my friends will note, my decision-making has been getting worse and worse in recent years. I'm impulsive and random, and I believe it is one of the few reasons that people still keep in touch with me: They honestly want to know if my masochism and irreverence has led to my death.

I have no intentions of getting so 'over my head' that I kill myself (though, good intentions are known to pave the road to internal hemorrhaging), but I freely admit that my near-term plans include several activities that are destined for soreness and/or injury. It's not yet May 1st, and the rest of my calendar is already packed:

• May 12th: Operation Giveback UCF 10K (*)
• May 19th: GORUCK Orlando (*)
• June 23rd: Tampa Prison Break Run (*)
• Aug 30 - Sept 2: GORUCK Ascent
• Sept 8th: GORUCK 9/11 New York City (*)
• Sept 29th: Megatransect
• Oct 20th: GORUCK DC Scavenger (*)
• Nov 4th: Tampa Wildhourse 10K Trail Run (*)
• Nov 18th: Miami Beach Rock 'n Roll Half Marathon
• Dec 1st: Tough Mudder Florida (*)

Whew. Man, I've never seen it written down outside dates on the calendar. Just the list exhausted me. I might actually be a little crazy... maybe the voices in my head are right! This makes my investigations into a Ragnar relay and a 50 Miler ultra race that much more idiotic, but I've never been known much for my self-control. Hell, it only took about a week for me to look at the Barkleys and go from, "That's insane. Who'd sign up for that?" to "Oh yea... I need that race director's email address. I'm so gonna do that."

But, back to those already-registered-for races above... Those asterisks after a good portion of them? That's to denote which I will be doing with a rucksack full of bricks. Yea... you got that right. The character in my novel, Shawn Kidd, seems to be defining me just as much as I defined him. I want to test myself and commit to an honest challenge. Why run another race when you've already done that? For a PR? That's all well and good, but who cares about PRs? Do other people care about YOUR PRs? I doubt it. The only person that cares is you. Why? Because, you challenge yourself to improve. Well, what better way to improve than to increase the challenge?

I'm already two races in with bricks, and I love it. I haven't focused on training as much with brick-laden runs as I did for my GR challenges, but those training runs are on the horizon. Still, I'm doing 30-35 miles unloaded per week without much trouble, and a short 7 1/2 mile maintenance run from yesterday turned into a 13.1 mile, half marathon PR simply because I felt so good that I didn't want to stop running.

The first RuckRun (Hmmm. Need to work on that... any suggestions? BrickedRun? RuckRace?) I did was the Winter Park Road Race 10K on March 24. It was a warm morning (for March in Florida), but I didn't notice. I certainly was sent some interesting looks as I toed the starting line with my GR1 packed with 6 bricks. (BONUS: I didn't have to check my keys, phone, and post-race gear at the start... just threw 'em in the bag. Sweet!) Other runners asked what I was doing. I said I was prepared for a little burglary along the route (WP is an upscale neighborhood). Several tried to lift my rucksack on my back. Most wished they hadn't. 30-35 pounds on an unexpectant wrist can be quite jarring. As the sun crested, we were off.

As it was my first BrickedRun, I freely admit to sandbagging. The cobblestone streets (see? nice neighborhood) were a constant threat, especially with my additional weight. I saw two women face plant after tripping, and they didn't have my bricks to contribute to their pain when they went down. Plus, I honestly wasn't sure what pace I should be running. How fast is too fast? How much sooner do you bonk when you have what amounts to a small German Shepherd on your back? Beats the Hell outta me...

As it turned out, I needn't have worried. My slower start pace meant that I was passed by a significant portion of the runners through the first 3 miles. But, as always happens with experienced racers, I quickly made up the distance. Most racers are too inexperienced to keep from shooting out of the blocks or simply refuse to pace themselves even when they know the last 1/4 of a race will be Hell for them. I was just getting into my stride at mile 5.

Sweat poured off my TAC hat, and I could feel a chill on my back where wetness formed under the pack due to simply being covered up. Something worth noting in cooler climates, hypothermia... it could be a real issue when you force yourself to sweat when it's really not that warm out. Of course, Florida humidity will do that anyway.

At mile 6, I saw the finish and kicked it up several gears, confidant in the knowledge that I was going to finish strong and not bonk. My only regret as I passed under the line with a 68 minute time was that I hadn't pushed myself harder. But, I also knew that many more RuckRaces were on the horizon, and avoiding injury and maintaining a proper training and development program would make up for any first race frustrations.

Of course, then I grabbed a friend, and we did the Orlando Corporate 5K rucked. The pace we set was good, but his training wasn't quite to my level. I pushed him significantly faster than he was comfortable with, I think, ("I'm getting dizzy... No, I don't wanna go to school today, Mommy.") but we still finished in less than 31 minutes. Given another shot, I have no doubt we could get in under 30, but that's one thing I know will be right around the corner... another shot. The list up top says all there is to say about it.

You know what... I'm going to do that Miami half marathon rucked, too. Screw it.

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