Subject: Re: (Very Looong Version) My presonal Rocky Racoon report
Date: Sat, 27 Feb 1999 21:10:10 EST
From: Thewashman@aol.com

I was preparing to start my DecaCent pursuit (what I am calling my ten 100s)
by doing what running I could do and actually, for the first time ever, doing
some upper body work (I do a Nautilus cycle).  With the Rocky Racoon coming
up, I had my plan ready.  I would try to average 4 hours for each of the the
first three loops and then try for five hours each on the last two.  If I went
a little slower near the end, it wouldn't bother me.  I was sure, though, that
I could bring it in under 24 hours.

Then all hell broke loose.  I caught the office bug (some said it was
bronchitis) on Friday, a week before the race.  I was sick in bed on Saturday,
Sunday and Monday.  I finally got up and did a little bit of moving around on
Tuesday.  I went back to work on Wednesday still feeling sick.  Thursday night
I flew to Houston, rented a car and drove to Huntsville.  After checking into
the Motel-6, I proceeded to get the first real sleep I'd had since the
previous Friday night.  I got 8 hours of sleep and only woke once during the
night.  From the previous Saturday through Wednesday, I got about 16 hours
sleep altogether and never more than an hour at a time.

Everything was telling me not to do this.  I had inadequate sleep, I had a bad
cough and a fever and, on race day, the temperatures reached 80 degrees with
high humidity.  Two weeks earlier, I was running in snow and freezing
temperatures.  But this wasn't just any hundred miler.  This was the first
step in my ten hundred miler year.  I once had a bad cold the weekend before
Vermont but was quite well by race day.  I ended up running out of gas after
60 miles but was able to finish.  I was hoping that I would again feel good by
race day.  It wasn't going to happen.

I went to the race check-in and saw some of my friends.  Phil Pierce from
Maine was there and Andy and Shelly Wunsch.  At the briefing, I had a coughing
fit and had to leave for a few minutes.  After that, I decided that I would
have to forgo Mickey's singing and guitar playing (which I really wanted to
hear after listening to him at Vermont last year) and skip the dinner.  I
picked up my favorite pre-ultra meal, a Pizza Hut Pepperoni Pan pizza, took it
back to my motel and relaxed and ate my fill.  I then mixed up my two 16-ounce
bottles of Conquest, got my stuff ready and tried to sleep.  What a waste of
time.  I doubt that I slept for more than two hours the entire night.  And
this is just my first of ten hundreds.  What can I look forward to next?

I woke up at 4:30 on race day and headed to the park.  I parked my car near
the start-finish line and relaxed.  I ate three Snack-Wells cereal bars and
drank the two bottles of Conquest, my normal pre-race routine.  In my fanny
pack, I had a Mini-Mag light, some TP, Orange jelly candies and SUCCEED
electrolyte caps.  Just before the start, I took one of the caps with water.
I almost always carry two water bottles as I don't usually spend much time at
aid stations.  I had put a drop bag at aid station three that contained a
change of clothes, a pair of shoes and my "C" cell flashlight.

With a short countdown, the race began.  Under my present conditions, I
decided that I would do the first loop and reassess my situation.  If I did
all right and felt OK, I would continue.  If not, I would drop and become a
volunteer.  As I started up the path, I could feel my temperature start to
rise.  When it did, I slowed down until it receded.  This became the routine
of the day.  The surface of the bike path that started and finished each loop
was like running on glass.  The small sharp stones were brutal.  After
crossing the road, however, the trail was great.  I heard people complaining
about rocks and roots on the course but I thought I was running on a carpet.
Maybe I've been spoiled by the rocky and rooty Eastern trails.  We exited the
trail about a mile before the first aid station.  The trouble with the aid
station was that there were very many runners arriving at the same time.  We
had to queue up to give our numbers and get aid.  I just grabbed some chips
and took off.  I had a routine where I would take an E-cap every hour.  I
first tried this at Western States last year and never drank so much water
with less problems in my life.  We took off down the road to the next trail
section.  From there, we were on another dirt road to the second aid station.
I took some more chips, refilled my water bottles and eased on down the road.
The section between the aid station and the turn around had the worst mud on
the course.  It was easy to get around early but became worse as the race
continued.  We returned from the turn around and made a left to aid station
three.  This was new as the course had to be rerouted because of some very
marshy areas near the spillway.  From three we got some of the best trail
sections, complete with long wooden bridges over swamp and portions of the
lake.  Just before aid station four, there was some more, unavoidable, mud.
We took off from four and had more good trail and then reached the part that
was added to make up for the lost part near the spillway.  It was an out and
back section up a right of way.  This wasn't too bad but the turn to start the
section was a bit confusing.  After that we returned to the start-finish.  I
made it in 4:07.  I couldn't believe it since I walked a lot and more jogged
than ran.  It looks like I'm going to have to continue.

I refilled my bottles and took a bologna sandwich and was on my way.
Unfortunately, the sandwich had way too much mayo and I was forced to
regurgitate it and deposit it along the trail section.  I wasn't too
uncomfortable once I got rid of it though.  The humidity was really getting
bad by now and I was completely soaked.  I continued around the second loop
pretty much the way I did on the first, although a bit slower.  Since I didn't
feel good, I would have to try something else to get me through the race.  I
remembered my younger son's favorite movie, "Heartbreak Ridge,"  and the line
that is my only real strategy when during hundred milers: "improvise, adapt,
overcome."  I hate to do any more planning than figuring out when to change my
shoes and socks and when to get my flashlight.  Beyond that, I just like play
it by ear.  Well, I made it through the second loop with no more trouble than
I did the first loop.  It took me about five hours.  This was the critical
time.  Should I just bag it or keep on truckin'.  Since I made the cutoff, I
wasn't yet doing myself any irreparable damage and I could still walk, I
decided to continue.  My feet were beginning to hurt so I changed into my
trail shoes from my all purpose shoes.  I figured, since it would be getting
dark on this loop, I might as well wear the trail shoes to protect my feet.
Not feeling well, I wasn't lifting my feet the way I usually do.

I took a cold hot dog, some chips, changed my shoes and was on my way.  I
didn't waste any more time than I could help.  I got around the third loop
just as I had the second.  When I got to the turn around between 2 and 3 (@ 50
miles) I had been out for nearly 12 hours.  Not bad for the way I felt but not
the kind of time I had hoped to be doing.  Before I got back to 3, it started
to get dark.  I pulled my Mini-Mag from my pack and made it to 3.  Once there,
I got my "C" cell Mag light from my drop bag and headed on down the trail. I
was only walking by this point and had resolved that I would more than likely
walk the entire dark portion of the race.  I was stumbling and tired but felt
like could make it if I just persevered, constant forward motion (CFM).  I
finished the lap but can't remember what the time was.  I think I finished
that lap either just before or just after Joe Hildebrand finished the race for
the win.  This was the moment of truth.  If I continue now, there was no way I
wasn't going to finish.

I didn't even give myself time to think about it.  I took another hot dog
(this time it was cooked) and was on my way.  I also dropped off my "C" cell
light and grabbed my "D" cell Mag light.  I have used this light now for four
years and, once I put new batteries in it, I have never had the light go dim
throughout a run.  It's a bit heavy, but it doesn't bother me any and I never
have to worry about batteries or darkness.  The fourth lap was actually fun.
Sure my blisters began to hurt big-time and I wasn't moving too well, but I
had resolved to walk and it was actually comforting to know that, finish or
not, there was no longer any stress on me.  I sat down at each aid station,
never for more than the time it took to get my bottles filled or to eat some
soup, and was able to enjoy the course.  At 2, I decided to pop some ibuprofen
to ease the pain from the blisters.  I don't always bother treating the pain
but I just wanted to feel a bit more at ease.  I managed to finish the loop
and immediately started out on the last one.

My feet were in pretty bad shape and I hadn't changed shoes since after the
second loop but I just wanted to get it over.  I didn't want to waste time
doing anything but RFM.  On I plodded.  With every step, the end was nearer.
I popped some more ibuprofen at 2 and was on my way to the finish.  I dropped
my flashlight at 3 and began a power walk.  I hadn't used much of the energy
that I had brought with me due to my fever, so now was the time to use what I
could.  My feet were killing me but I was making good time.  I flew through 4
and on to the power line out and back.  I was flying with my power walk and
even passed a couple of people on this loop.  I was constantly looking at my
watch, playing the math game.  I figured that, if I could keep this up, I
could break 28 hours.  On I pushed (such that it was).  I pushed through to
the finish in @ 27:58:10.  I was too exhausted to be elated.  That would come
later.  I had done it and under circumstances that were less than encouraging.
If I could finish this after the way I felt all week, I am ready for the other
nine hundreds.  I just am wondering what the rest of the races have in store
for me since this first one was such a challenge.

I went over to take a shower and the blister on the inside of my right big toe
(as usual) was huge, even more so than usual.  I popped it and left the other
ones as they were.  I cleaned up, then went to the awards, got my buckle,
drove back to Houston, returned my rental car and hobbled to my plane.  I had
no problems with sleep during the race (I seldom do) but now I was tired. As
I am writing this three weeks later, I have had to removed the toe nail on my
right big toe (it was coming loose and was stabbing into my toe).  I have done
some running to prepare for Umstead but now feel much better after removing
the nail.  I also decided to get new trail shoes as well as my all purpose
shoes.  I had actually walked the entire last 50 miles and the shoes I had
were just too beat up and used up from last year's heavy schedule.  It was
time for a change.  I'll get to test the new ones at Umstead.

One down, nine to go,
Jeff Washburn