2011 Run Woodstock

The days before
In hindsight, both as a write this, and as I sat Friday morning waiting for the 4pm start, I reflected on the week prior and considered the upside to the poison ivy that had covered my hands and feet all week.  It was a distraction, and a brutal one, but a distraction nonetheless from the anxiety felt with each passing thought of the Hallucination 100 – the race I would be running at the Run Woodstock festival in just a few short hours.  After months of preparation it was time…finally.  Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t have more time to sit around thinking about it.

The day of
The list of supplies for the race was checked and double checked, and it was time to pull it all together.  Since my crew would be camping we had quite a pile.  Looked like we were going away for a week!  I had three pairs of shoes and socks, plus three short sleeve and three long sleeve shirts (it was getting cooler in evenings).  Surely that would be adequate. Little did we know what was in store for us!

Sitting on the couch chatting with my sister, Christine, who came up from Florida to help crew, she sensed a level of doubt or fear in me.  And believe me, it was real.  I’d run 55 miles four weeks prior, and at that time it was a real confidence builder, but on the cusp of the race start I couldn’t get past the idea that even that distance was barely over half way.  What would it take to get this done?  And the fact that I’d plastered my intentions everywhere – well beyond friends and family, it was all over FaceBook and even the newspapers as I used this to raise awareness and funds for RA (Rheumatoid Arthritis, of which my dear friend Lorrie suffers).  The pressure to finish for the sake of my family and friends that were helping as well as all those that donated to the cause was almost overwhelming.

In any case, we packed up and headed to the Hell Creek Ranch, where the three days of Woodstock craziness and a whole lotta runnin’ was about to commence (100 miler was 6 loops of 16.6 miles).

Two quick sidebars:
1)    My sister Christine was instrumental in setting up our RunningForRA FaceBook page as well as our fundraiser page.  She is always a great encourager of mine as well.  So having her at the race was about much more than a crew member, she is  part of “the team”!
2)    The Run Woodstock festival includes races that go from 5 miles all the way up to the 100 miler over the course of the weekend.

 Ok, before we get too much further, another sidebar :-)
1. An Awesome production of pictures, captions and music:  Go here! (LMK if you want to see the video)
2. OR, for a simple slideshow  check this out
The start & Lap 1
While it had rained steady the previous two days, causing me to slowly develop a dread for what the trails would be like, race morning was only overcast.  As we set up camp the sun came out and with it a sense of “wow, it’s getting hot out here…”  Be careful what you wish for.  Under a sunny sky Randy, decked out in his hippie garb, gave us last minute race instructions and sent us off to the clamoring cheer of all around.  I positioned myself as far back as I could, not wanting to get caught up with those going “only” 100K .  I wore my bright yellow Running For RA shirt Pam had fashioned for me on my 45th birthday run of 45 miles back in May.  That was a great conversation piece for all those around me.  The first lap was great.  Never was I alone, and as people moved up and back to find their pace I was fortunate to have a chat with many of them.

Between 3 and 4 miles we go through the nasty section where I got the poison ivy (on a training run).  The trail had been cleared some, and I was able to stay mainly on the trail.  Hoped that would mean no poison ivy on this particular day.

About one mile from the end of the loop there was this nasty section of mud 50 or 60 meters long, and there was no getting around it.  Came out of it with feet of mud bricks - good thing the lap was almost done.

Lap one done in 3:08.  A quick shoe change, fresh bottles and gels, put the headlamp on for later, check-in at the race tent and I was off.  Official time leaving the tent was 3:14.  About perfect I’d say…

Shoe strategy was to wear an old pair for lap 1, a less old pair for lap 2, and then a brand new pair for laps 3 thru 6, hoping the new shoes would give my legs a little more spring as they started to tire.

Lap 2
Early in lap 2 the cloud cover returned and then the rain started.  I was running with Jeff, whom I’d met before the start.  He was very experienced, so I was asking questions and trying to learn all I could.  The conversation was great, I appreciated the company, and the rain was nice and gentle and we both commented it actually felt good.

Not sure what I wasn’t doing right, but 3 miles from the end of the loop is the biggest climb out there and when I reached the top I was toast.  Legs were suddenly heavy, breathing was labored, head was light – almost dizzy.  How could I feel this crappy after only 30 miles!  This did not bode well.  It was here that I made probably the wisest decision, in hindsight, of the entire race – I walked.  My strategy for the race was to walk the hills and run everything else, and I had done that so far.  But now I just walked, all the way to the campground.  In that time I drank everything I had, took every gel I was carrying and made sure I was on top of my electrolytes as well.  I finished the lap just before 11 pm. and promptly plopped down into the chair that was waiting for me.  My crew didn’t need to be told I felt bad.  It was obvious.

In any case, we changed my shoes and socks, dry shirt – long sleeve because the rain was getting heavier – full bottles, gels, etc. and I headed back out.  We headed out of the race check-in tent at exactly 11pm.  Perhaps that is part of why I bonked a bit here.  I’m usually heading to bed by this time, so perhaps my body was simply objecting to being awake?  3:30 average after two laps, though, meant I was still doing ok.

Lap 3
My buddy Tim was with me on lap 3.  You can have a pacer starting with the third lap and I had arranged for one on each of the remaining laps.   It was probably a combination of things, but the walking, fueling, and now company, and I was a totally different person on lap 3 than at the end of lap 2.  I kept saying “Thank You Jesus!  Tim – I feel great!” and we were laughing and having a great time.  What I didn’t know until after the race was that Tim arrived from date night with his wife just minutes before it was time to run.  My wife was scrambling to figure out what to do if he didn’t show.  But alas, Tim was Johnny on the Spot and all worked out fine.

The rain turned torrential and I remember Tim saying “my boys would have a blast out here!”  That helped remind me to stay in the moment and enjoy the experience – whatever the circumstances.  One section of two short steep climbs are primarily clay.  The rains turned these into “slicks” that were almost impassible – at least for me with ~40 miles on my legs.  I was left pawing and grabbing for anything to help get me up.  My rear foot started slipping and I found myself doing the splits - not good!  Decided to just turn downhill and essentially ski back down and try again.  This time I made it, by grabbing a thorny branch (ouch!) and Tim’s extended helping hand.  That kind of crap was hard to enjoy 

Tim was a great pacer, making sure I walked every climb and reminding me regularly to eat and drink.  I’ll even forgive him for getting me lost…

Yup, at one point we’re boogeying along and got onto this bridge and I said “whoa, I haven’t been here before…”  Tim was crushed.  We back tracked and found we had missed a turn – too busy talking I guess   It was only a few minutes lost, but gave me something to harass him about!

Lap 4
Lap 4 begins with a change into recycled shoes – as they’d get so muddy they needed to be hosed off after each lap - and a new pacer, Kacey.  Oh boy, you all need to meet Kacey!  A great runner and friend, and arguably the best pacer on the planet.  Maybe it’s the 1st and 2nd grade teacher in her, but she knew just how to handle me.  When to use positive words and when to be a bit more stern.  This was the lap I figured would be the toughest, starting at 3 a.m.  This meant a 3:40 average through 3.  I hoped that I had been conservative enough in my first three loops that I would be able to hold the pace for the last three.

At the risk of getting us both in trouble I’ll also share that I told her I appreciated her wearing her short running skirt.  That, too, helped keep my mind off things   Other than that, though, this loop is a bit of a blur.  The rain was crazy hard.  The trails turned into a river.  The muddy sections began to multiply.  But Kacey, she was incredible.  She kept me on pace and on task, but never stopped talking either.  Story after story kept me laughing and feeling good – despite a level of fatigue that was growing and footing that was worsening.

I didn’t say anything to her, but do remember at the 8 mile aid station I realized I had ventured into uncharted territory.  I had just run further than I had ever been – and I was just over half way.  This type of stuff can mess with you when you are so tired.  The fatigue seems to be an avenue for doubt to creep in.

We reached that mud pit near the finish and my description didn’t do it justice, Kacey was surprised by just how terrible it was (and getting so much worse with each passing lap).  But we made it through one more time and then trudged the last 10 minutes into camp.

Lap 5
With lap 4 complete, I plopped into the chair that I’d been coveting for the previous hour or so. Another pair of recycled shoes were available, but my socks all looked beyond useable.  As I was saying I’d just leave the same socks on, Andrew, a running acquaintance walks over and hands me a pair of dry, fresh socks!

Kate was my lap 5 pacer and she donned a garbage bag as a rain jacket.  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked her “It’s really terrible out there.”  “Are you kidding?  Of course you silly…” or something like that was her response.

I had grown very weary and very skeptical about being able to finish.  The conditions were so bad, and the “DNF Wall” grew with each lap.  But with Kate’s ever present smile and larger than life laugh we headed out into the rain.  She was actually looking forward to running in this stupidity.  I was just glad to be rid of the headlamp that had been making a dent in my forehead for the last 11 hours!

Yup, it was daylight.  My wife had to convince me that I could leave the light behind.  With the rain and all it still felt so dark.  I did get a boost from it being daylight, but not as much as I’d hoped for.  Truth was I was gassed and just didn’t want to do this any more.  We walked to the top of the hill outside the campground and as we crested we started running.  I was much less the conversationalist with Kate as I just wasn’t able to expend the energy to talk.  Just keep moving.  I kept seeing Stu Allen’s email in my minds eye “No matter what, keep moving.  It’s gonna hurt, keep moving.  You are going to want to quit, keep moving.”  So I stared at Kate’s feet and kept moving.

At the halfway point of the lap you pop out of the woods and cross a paved road and that is where my crew would meet me.  I can’t tell you how much I looked forward to seeing that car on each loop.  This time, however, was the most special of any lap, for as I looked up to see the car I saw Lorrie – my inspiration – standing there, too.  Without notice I just started balling.  I’m soaked with sweat and rain and covered in mud and she says “give me a hug!” and tells me she loves me.  Wow.  That’ll do it.  That got me through the 2nd half of that loop!

5th lap done.  Time: 4:07.  By this time I didn’t really care about the time. The conditions had me more concerned with finishing, period.   When I did get a glimpse of my watch I was typically amazed we stayed on pace as well as we did.

Final Lap
Sitting down again for a shoe change before the last lap, the rain had stopped.  I just started crying.  Not sure how good a job I did hiding it, but remember putting my hand over my face and looking down.  At least Pam saw it and knelt down beside me and I said “I can’t do it, I can’t go out there again.” And she whispered something in my ear, something to the effect of “Remember, this is about something bigger than yourself.”  Wow again.  How could I not get up?

So Kacey is back for the last lap and as we are walking out of camp she asks if I’m hurt.  “Everything hurts” I tell her, “but no, I’m not hurt.”  Very well, then, let’s do this! She says and off we went.  Again, we walked the hill heading out of camp, and when we crested she says, “Ok, you can run this” and that is what I heard for the next 4 hours “ok, you can run this”.  She let me walk when I needed to, but always seemed to know the difference from when I wanted to (which was always).

I was fixated on that last four miles for the entire last lap.  It was just such a difficult section.  While I’d try to focus on just the next little section (get to the road, get to the aid station, crest the hill, etc), I kept worrying about that last section, it was so stinkin’ tough.  And then it came, the right turn off the dirt road to the last four mile section that started with a half mile of  muck.  Then there was the big climb.  Then the mud section that had turned to chocolate pudding.

And then, and only then, coming out of that pudding section, one mile from the finish, did I finally let myself believe that I was going to finish this race.  The last mile was finally “euphoric”, especially when we popped out of the trees and had the last 150 meters or so to the finish line – which I crossed with family and friends all around, and Pam and Lorrie and I holding hands and crossing together.  Perfect!

Stats:  95 registered.  84 started.  26 finished (no, that is no typo).  My final lap was 4:51, giving me a finish time of 24:06, 1st in my Age Group and 5th overall.

A few final race day thoughts:
1) My cause – this was the inspiration I needed to not quit.
2) My crew – My wife Pam, daughter Stephanie, sister Christine, and Josh (Lorrie’s son) did everything I needed to be able to continue on.  I don’t know how people do it without a crew!  It was also so very special to have my son Justin out there as well.
3) My pacers – Tim, Kate and Kacey – You guys ROCK!  Forever I will be indebted to you for putting yourself through that for me.  An amazing, selfless act that is truly priceless.
4) My friends – Jeremy and Bonnie, Ralph and Cathie, Carmi and Kathy, Sue, Brad and Theresa.  Your being out there was so critical.  Your support and encouragement was more important than you could ever know.

Post race
The hours following the race were bizarre.
•    From euphoric at the finish line to falling asleep in my chair 5 minutes later.
•    To being awoken because I’m told it’s more important to hydrate than sleep
•    And having been awakened, see my wife crying because earlier that day her step-dad had passed away (something she kept from me during the race).  And if you only knew the whole backstory…
•    Getting up to go eat, only to get naseous as soon as I was in sight of the food – couldn’t get off my feet quick enough!
•    Finally, after a short nap in the grass it was time to put some dry clothes on and have some chicken soup (thanks Christine!)
•    Wanting to hang out and see others come in and enjoy the party, but the truth was, every time I tried to move I’d want to throw up.  Decided to head home instead.

Sunday morning we went to church.  I was surprised I was awake and felt good enough to go.  Right decision!  Great morning of thankfulness and praise!  Good for Pam and I both – but for different reasons.

Monday evening was the visitation for Dom and it was standing room only.  What a wonderful tribute.

The service Tuesday was beautiful, written by the eldest daughter Heather.  Dominic had 8 kids (6 boys) and 40+ years of marriage to his first wife before he and my mother-in-law (both widowed) met and married.

So now it’s Thursday and I sit here reflecting and writing.  The ultra was everything I expected and more.  The conditions made the distance more difficult than I expected.  The increased difficultly, though, helps me to appreciate so much more those around me that helped make it happen.  As in past experiences with the ultra distance, it is also a personal journey deep into your soul where you learn a lot and hopefully grow as an individual in the process.

And yes, I admit it, I still cry as I reflect on certain aspects of the race.

And yes, I admit it, I am already thinking about “next time…”

And especially yes, I hope you find motivation or inspiration for yourself in this vs. a story just about me and mine.

Press on friends.

3 comments:

nicalady said...

Chuck, thanks so much for taking the time to share. I am inspired. We all have our '100 miles to run' in one way or another, but many of us choose to sit it out, thank you for running yours. Your self-discipline amazes me and I constantly remind myself to copy your style, its not just your running, but your entire outlook on life. I am proud to say that you are my brother!!

Chuck said...

Love ya sis. And trust me, it is you that inspires me :-)

JS Tremaine said...

This was a truly amazing write up. I'm actually tearing up while reading it. Great job man! I did the 50k at Woodstock so I know the horrendous terrain you had to go through. You are a true inspiration!