62 miles of suck

One year ago, on a whim, I entered a trail race for the first time. It was the 25K (15.6 miles) "fun run" out at the Hill Country State Natural Area in Bandera. I remember looking at the 100K runners like they were some kind of zoo animals. Couldn't believe anyone would be retarded enough to run such a distance.

One year later...

It's 6AM and I've started my pre-race coffee binge. I'm nervous as hell. I've been training for this since May. Nine months of the Greenbelt and the Hill of Life and Government Canyon and Rocky Hill and Huntsville and Warda and even Pikes Peak. Not to mention all the miles I spent training on these very trails.

I have a ton of friends running and volunteering today, and shooting the shit with them took some of the edge off. Some of them, like Tiffany and Nicole, were doing their first trail runs. Melissa was doing her first ultra, the 50K.

My first issue was the drop bags. Never used 'em before, wasn't sure what to put in what bag. Got to send three bags out. The trick was figuring out when I would be able to use each bag. Where would I be when it got dark and needed a flashlight? Where would I be when it got cold and I needed another layer? What if it started raining? Luckily my roomie Padre used to do these long runs and was able to help me out, giving me an outline that held up pretty good throughout the entire run.

7:30AM, and the race starts.

As you can see from the course profile (this is the 50K, my day consisted of doing it twice), the fun starts right away. Lots of steep, rocky hills. So steep that going down these hills actually hurts me just as bad as going up. The first hill is affectionately known as the Big Nasty. I settle into a slow pace with a pack of buddies. Pete, Kelly, Arne, Shan, and a few others make our way through the first few miles. On an early hill everyone was already breathing heavy and talking was limited. At this point, Kelly blurbs out "If anyone knows a good joke this would be a great time..."

Soon we come to one of my favorite parts of the course, Ice Cream Hill. Very steep. Very rocky.

Not long after ICH we come to the first aid station, Nachos. 5 1/2 miles down. This station is staffed by volunteers from the Rogue group, who I have spent a good amount of time training with. I see Sisson and my future pacer, Abe. Refill the water bottles, eat a few pretzels, and I'm off.

The next part of the course is not my favorite. Mostly consisting of the 8/9 loop, it's relatively flat and non-technical and reminds me too much of Huntsville. It is a section where you can actually maintain a decent pace and make some time up, but it's just plain boring. Kelly and I run this together, keeping a good pace to the next aid station, Chapas (11 miles down).

Same thing to the next aid station. More boring field running. Yuk. Kelly and I are keeping a quick pace, but I'd rather be on the more rugged trails. Anyways, we're running strong as we come into the Cross Roads In (17 miles down) aid station. Same routine - gatorade, salt, calories, take off.

After my mediocre performance at Sunmart, I was talking to a HCTR member, an exercise physiologist, about salt intake. I told him I would take a succeed pill every hour. He told me to try taking one pill every time I finished a bottle of gatorade. I was using this strategy and so far it was working, as I was feeling pretty strong. This was gonna be tested though, as the temperature was slowly but steadily climbing.

Anyways, out of XRoads In, back to the Bandera I love. It's a quick loop to the next aid station, but it includes the Three Sisters so it's all good. By now the pack is thinning out and I find myself running alone.

A quick five miles and I'm at the Cross Roads Out aid station. I've been running about four hours now, and it's lunch time. I scarf down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and some cookies. Yum yum. Only about nine miles to go to the halfway point. I realize that I've covered that nine mile loop several times in training though, and even though it's a tough loop I know I can do it, and do it while tired, and that gives me a boost of confidence.

Up, up, up Lucky Hill. Good stuff. Lots of technical parts on this section, and I'm still fresh enough to enjoy it. It's getting hot out, probably mid 70s without much shade, but my new salt plan is working.

Before long I come into my favorite aid station, Last Chance. I've covered an entire marathon, and I'm not even halfway. I see thay have tequila, beer, and jager there. I start to drool. And then I see Chicken Choker from the San Antonio H3, he's a volunteer at the aid station! I refill on Gatorade and grab a handfull of chips, and we agree to toast the SAH3's 1000th run on my next time around.

At this point it's about five miles to the halfway point. I'm feeling pretty good for having covered a marathon over rugged terrain, but I am starting to get a bit tired. A few more hills, a couple of spectacular views of the Hill Country, over Boyle's Bump, and I'm on my way in to the halfway point. I arrive in just under six hours. Perfect for me. I fully expect to slow down about two hours over the second half, so I'm right on pace to break 14 hours.

My aid at the halfway point was fabulous. Meredith was waiting to refill my water bottles. Nicole and Tiffany, still sweating from the 25K, sat me down and fed me pickles and Gu. Tiffany then asked if there were anything else she could do. I replied, "I'm chafing pretty bad, could you rub vasoline on my balls?" You can only imagine the dirty look I got in response.

So, 31 miles down, 31 to go. I was tired and beat up, but I felt fine for what I had been through. I knew the second half was gonna be tough, but I had a feeling that as long as I didn't break an ankle I was gonna finish.

Left the halfway point at just over six hours. Second loop, same as the first. I'm still running alone, but I'm gonna pick up a pacer at the next aid station. Still moving along at a decent clip, probably running in about 12th place at this point.

Hit the Nachos aid station. 36 miles down, one marathon to go.

Fellow Pikes Peaker Abe, who was volunteering at an aid station, wanted to get in a long run and offered to pace me the final 26 miles, and I happily accepted. Pacers are great to have. I was tired both physically and mentally, and to have a fresh body to make sure I didn't take a wrong turn and to make sure I was still eating and drinking was an enormous boost. Not to mention the fact that I'd have someone to talk to to take my mind off of how much I was hurting and how much longer I still had to go.

We exit Nachos and tackle the boring part of the course. I am starting to feel fairly horrible but Abe helps keep the pace honest. We cover the Nachos to Chapas section in 62 minutes, which Abe tells me is faster than the leader of the race covered it. He's probably lying, but it sounds nice.

Chapas to Cross Roads In is also covered fairly fast. I feel like walking most of it, but once again Abe keeps me going. We even manage to start passing people here. I move into the top ten.

Arriving at Cross Roads In, I stop at my drop bag for a long sleeve t-shirt and my flashlight. Padre's plan to have my main drop bag here worked perfectly. Still pleanty of light, but I'd be toast if I had been out on the trails when it got dark if I had no light, so better safe than sorry. And when I open up my bag, what a surprise! Two slices of pizza from Cowboy Capital Pizza! Woohoo! A lot of people say bad things about Nicole, but she definitely has her finer points! I scarf down the pizza, throw on a long sleeve shirt (under my Lovejoy's shirt, of course!), and Abe and I are off.

The next part goes fine, though I'm starting to hike up inclines that I hadn't even noticed the first loop. The Three Sisters kick my ass pretty good here. Still, even with the walking, Abe is keeping me at a decent pace and my 14 hour goal is looking good.

Into Cross Roads Out. Tiffany, Nicole, and Evan are sitting here, drinking beer. I've covered about 52 miles to this point, longest I've ever run, and that cold beer is looking good. Nicole offers me a bottle of Shiner and I take a good, long swig. Mmmmm, good stuff. She reminds me that there are two bottles of Yuengling Lager waiting for me at the finish line, so I continue on.

I'm able to run for about another half hour before the flashlight comes on. Physically I'm feeling horrible, but mentally I'm doing fine and I'm pretty sure I'll finish. Having a pacer is making all the difference in the world, I know I'd be walking most of this section without Abe pushing me along.

On and on to the Last Chance aid station. Christmas lights everywhere, folks watching movies, it was quite the party. 57 miles down. Chicken Choker greets me and hands me a shot of jager. "Here's to the 1000th running of the San Antonio Hash House Harriers!" we shout and down the shot. Damn, that was good. I also down about half a bottle of Shiner and contemplate another shot but decide against it.

Five miles to go. I've been running for over eleven hours. I started running just before sunrise, ran all day, and the sun had set over an hour ago. Needless to say, I was starting to feel pretty shitty. But the psychological boost of knowing the finish line was close gave me a good kick in the ass and I kept moving forward.

Up and over Boyle's Bump, walking and stumbling most of it. Even my arms were tired, making it tough to hold my flashlight. But after that bump, it was all downhill to the finish. What a feeling crossing that line was. The months and months of hard work had paid off. I had finally managed to conquer the rough Bandera trails, crossing the line in twelve and a half hours, a full 90 minutes under my goal (Abe was probably responsible for 80 of these minutes).

Immediately after finishing I went to the tent for my well deserved Yuengling. Of course, I put on my sweet new Bandera 1ooK Endurance Run fleece and showed everyone my very first belt buckle. I was completely drained, and all I could do was sit by the heater drinking beer. I felt bad, like I should have gone out to an aid station and helped, but I was just completely wasted.

Too many people to thank for getting me to the finish line, but I'll try anyways.

Sisson and all the Rogues. Gave me the plan and kicked me in the ass whenever I wasn't following it. I feel awful I won't be around for the Pikes Peak group this year! Already looking forward to seeing yunz all at the Austin post-Pikes party in August.

Joe, Henry, Melissa, Joyce, Meredith, Pete, Shan, Kelly, Brandon, and all my HCTR training buddies. One year ago I was starting my first trail run. Since then I've finished at least seven ultra trail runs, mostly following the advice I picked up while running with yunz guys. I can't say enough about the help you all have given me. I only hope the trail running scene in Colorado is half as good as it is in Austin!

Not sure what my next challenge will be. Of course I'll attempt the double at Pikes in August. And we'll see how the Western States lottery goes, I'm glad I'll get to use Bandera as my qualifier. Also see a rim-to-rim-to-rim crossing of the Grand Canyon in my future, we'll see how that goes.

I'll leave with a great quote I heard from TJ:

"Any idiot can run a marathon. It takes a special kind of idiot to run an ultramarathon."