Archive for Ultramarathon

North Face DC 50M: Keeping up with Wardian (almost)

tnf dc BANNER

Walking under the start/finish blow-up North Face arch at Algonkian Park ( a few miles upstream of DC) brings back fond memories from last year. I surprisingly won the 50K event here, by far my biggest “W” and was back. This was to be no defend my belt day though, I was cranking it up a notch to “the big boys” 50 mile race as my running friend Kino would say. I needed a second 50 mile race in my legs for Western States 100 and with four weeks to go, this made a lot of sense.

I had a plan for the race. It was fairly straight forward. 9/min mile would get me in at 7 hours 30 minutes and a top 5 place based on previous results. Midweek leading up to the race, DC (and New York for that matter) got hit with heat wave temperatures in the 90’s and humidity sky-high to boot.

Knowing this didn’t throw me off my time goal but I did begin to toss around different ideas with people of how to run in such heat. I hate the heat but part of me was secretly happy. Western States 100 will be hot, probably hotter so in terms of ‘training’, the conditions were going to be a great test for me out there. The best advice came from my Novo Nordisk teammate, Matt Patrick. “Run em while you can” he said on the plane ride down their meaning run your miles before it gets too hot you have no choice but to walk. The race begun at 5am so I had at least two or three hours of cooler temps (if you can call 70’s-80’s cooler!) before the sun was to rise and the sauna was to kick in.

Out and back course with three loops at Great Falls.

Gore-Tex 50 Miler: Out and back course with three loops at Great Falls.

My new plan was to run 8/min miles early for as long as possible, maybe to the Great Falls aid at 19 miles. By the time the sun was beaming down on us, I would have a gap on competitors who would have to work really hard to catch me. If I was out of sight an albeit a mess, I still might pull off a good time and placing.

Now, most of my friends disagreed with this plan calling it borderline suicide or not saying anything and just pulling me the ‘ug face’. I think part of their disagreement made me want to experiment with this kamikaze idea even more. Something is definitely wrong with me!

My BG was a shy over 200 at 4:45am. I had been managing it closely since 2am when I gave up on sleeping and got the pre-race routine going. I diluted my Gatorade hand-held bottle down slightly. No backpack today – another experiment, also a big risk because of the heat but after the back pains I got during Bear Mountain lugging around 70oz rather than 20oz (a handheld bottle weight) I wanted to feel as light as possible, especially with my aggressive start. )The DC race course is set up far better for refueling with the biggest gap between aid stations being a shy under 7 miles compared to Bear too).

My other teammates (Matt, Ryan and Benny) were still asleep at the hotel with later start times for the 50k and marathon races. I did not mind one bit getting going so early though. I would have taken 4am if I could! I stood at the front of the start line near Michael Wardian (The North Face athlete with too many accolades to list here) He was being announced by the MC, a clear favorite to win the race in my eyes.

Fast start out the gate - a white blur of rundiabetes.

Fast start out the gate – a white blur of rundiabetes.

We blazed out of the start into the field. Down a dip, up a dip, along flat grass surrounded by waist-high grass – it felt very Cross Country like. I ran on the heals of the leader. The pace felt really easy. I think it was 7 minute miles.

Pushing the pace early with the other four leaders.

Pushing the pace early with the other four leaders.

Wardian came by. I re-introduced myself after we had briefly met at JFK50 (my first 50) in 2011. We begun too small talk, dead easy guy to talk too. We ran the long flat section south and the leader joined in the conversation as we now ran as three with several others hanging behind.

A lollipop extension around a pond was a new part of the course to me. (This is not part of the 50K course). As we returned to the main stretch we passed the first aid stop. I struggled to find the water section rather than sodas (way too early for that!) and immediately I fell off the back with no one else stopping to refuel. I knew carrying water bottles I would have to stop more but didn’t expect everyone else to blaze ahead and wait until mile 8.5 aid.

At first, I thought they were gone but within a few minutes staying at a good pace and not trying to run anything but my pace, I had jumped back on to them as we went up and down the banks along the golf course. No golfers were up this early to see the shenanigans of our race. Last year, I remember we got some funny looks during the 50K!

The more people spoke, the more I got to know my company. In the lead, a guy who had just paced David Riddle (JFK50 2011 champ etc etc) to a 50M win, Michael Wardian, Nikki Campbell’s (The North Face athlete) pacer and then a quiet, serious runner decked out in North Face gear, arguably the most intriguing of the four. He was all business. For that, I decided to call him Ivan Drago, the Russian nemesis from Rocky! And then there was me. What was I doing here?! Well, it felt great and I was having fun so I stood my ground and went with the plan.

We reached the first climbs around mile 10. This would be the end of the road for the gang of five. Instantly, the top 2 ran the hill. I knew my endurance level and hiked it hard instead. Nikki Campbell’s pacer (who I later found out to be Dennis Ball- we have several mutual friends) tried to keep up, saw I was right behind hiking and quickly followed suit. Rocky’s rival followed.

Several short but steep up and downs followed as we hiked and ran south, the Potomac River on our left, water flowing down towards the capital. This was a fun section, possibly my favorite. A stream crossing was ankle-deep. the same crossing was waist deep the prior year. What a hugely different experience this was on the exact same course.

I now sat in clear third but had lost sight of the front two. I was clipping off 7:15’s and that was definitely better than I had hoped for. The sun was rising fast and he heat too. I ran through six-foot tall grass, turned a corner and saw Wardian to the side of the trail ‘watering the plants’. I ran by. Whoa. Hold that thought. I ran by Michael Wardian.

I’m a big advocate of saying race yourself, not others. Your placing is merely determined by who does or does not turn up on any given day. But, this was Michael Wardian. I had to pinch myself that I was ahead of him running in 2nd place a third of the way into the race.

I ran through an open field and used the space to have a quick look back to see what was going on. Rocky’s arch nemesis was there but not Mike.

On a flat and then long descent I stretched my legs to try to get a nicer gap on the rest. I ran into the Great Falls aid station (mile 18) in 2nd. I met my girlfriend there. I think she wanted to tell me I was going too fast but instead smiled and said I was doing great. Like clockwork, we wiped my sweaty hands down, did a blood test (144) and refueled for the first of three Great Falls loops. But just like that, I was back in 4th. Both North Face runners were really efficient at Great Falls aid and were off.

I climbed the long hill road steadily as I watched Wardian pull away slowly. By the time we hit the top, I was back on my own. On paper, the Great Falls loop looks like a maze but in reality if you just follow the arrows, it’s not rocket science.

At the first of two turn around points, I saw a teenager sitting by a traffic cone with earphones in showing little interest of the race. Probably the son of a super keen runner/volunteer Dad I assumed. He pointed at the cone and mumbled. I paused and looked at him and said “This is the turn around?”. He nodded. “Really? Are you sure? Positive?” It felt wrong “Did see two runners ahead?” He jumped off his perched rock and ran off to find them.

I turned back and felt like I had cheated my placing back into 2nd. But this was not my fault. Within a mile, Wardian was back. He joked he wasn’t having he best day with a long pit-stop and then this mis-hap. The gap on first was already quite large at mile 23, he had a lot of work to do. Off he went again to push on. I just felt great to be running almost up to a marathon with someone of his caliber. I was waiting to blow up but really enjoying being up front that my confidence was growing and my body followed suit.

Great Falls cliffs - beautiful and treacherous all in one!

Great Falls cliffs – beautiful and treacherous all in one!

After the second turn-around point (people marked your bib as proof you made it, EMT was there and a full aid station – quite the contrast!) a fun descent followed with a few tricky rocks at the lowest point. This led us back to the river and to the most scenic but also treacherous part of the course – the Great Falls cliffs. Diagonal dagger rocks spread the trail and the use of hands became important. My hand-held went subconsciously back in my right hand in case of the worst happening. Tip-toeing through the rocks, I chose a safe controlled pace. This helped my heart rate lower as I slowed the intensity.

One loop done and back at the aid station. Blood glucose steady and off again. My Rocky friend nipped ahead of me pushing me back to 4th just like last time I was here. The climb was tougher but almost all runnable still.

The turn around point was now greeted with three mounted bikes, three adults and a sulky teenager who had clearer got an earful for letting two of the lead runners go past the cone and up the hill off the course! It was a pretty amusing site.

On the return to the spine of the loop you pass all the competition. This is all mind games stuff, looking at each other straight in the eyes to see if they are tired, broken or just god damn having a great day. I opted for the latter every time I had this opportunity. I hiked/ran sections now but was wary not to do so much of the hiking near my competition.

A shirtless duo were working well behind me and I feared them for a few miles since I first spotted them earlier on loop one. By the time I had clocked a marathon under my feet, they were heading on by and looked strong. I now lay in 6th.

Coming back to the aid for the final loop, I felt OK. I was running well, albeit loosing a couple of places. My glucose continued to sit tight, right in the mid-100’s. The course was now busy with two races, mine and the 50K. I overtook some of the back of the pack runners up the climb, who were not enjoying the long hill and complaining to me! I just shrugged and said “almost there”. Why complain? Negative thoughts won’t get you very far.

Wardian ran by me fully in the zone, followed by the silent assassin who still didn’t want to even say hello to me and then there were the twins looking very comfortable working as one. The turn around (for those interested) was now decorated with a natural road block (tree branches!) and an again lonesome and still sulky teenager. I kind of wanted to do a bonus loop for the next display!

I noted I had about three guys behind me but my gap was definitely a few minutes on each of them. The initial nods of heads from the first loop were now replaced with more fiery stares looking for any sign of weakness in me. But I knew they had to now push up a gear to get me and the heat was now my friend and their foe.

I was drinking really smart. 20oz (my entire hand-held water bottle) between every aid station. This worked out to be about every 30 minutes. Just to make sure I was cool enough, I was grabbing the water out of the volunteers hands and pouring it over me. The only negative of being this wet meant my CGM sensor fell out of my stomach so I was now reliant on actual blood tests for the remainder of the race.

I caught up with Ryan towards the end of the final loop. He was not having his best day with the heat really getting to him. Sensibly, he chose to run it in easy and save his energy for Western States down the road.

The idea of being paced for some of the race had been tossed around and I wasn’t that keen. I’m extremely stubborn and don’t ask for help very much I guess. But when Tiffany gave me a fresh bottle of Gatorade, more food for the umpteenth time at Great Falls with a pacer bib on standby should I want her help, it was an easy answer.

Off we went, 18 miles to go back to Algonkian Park. We ran along the riverbed getting cheered on by the Great Falls spectators. We soon took a left and cranked up a tough climb.

Benny flew by us in first place of the marathon as we had all predicted. He was a white blur of awesomeness. Tiffany and me counted minutes between him and 2nd. It took the distraction away from my pain and race for a few minutes at least. My whole body was worn out. No cramping and my lungs felt great but my limbs and torso just ached tremendously.

Climbing up with Tiffany as company at mile 35.

Climbing up with Tiffany as company at mile 35.

We reached the open field and walked sections that I would run on any other day. Was now the time the wheels were going to fall off and drop back twenty places? I did my best to keep my mind from such negative thoughts. I didn’t want to be thinking like the runners who were complaining earlier.

Running became less and less an option in the mid-30 miles. Downhills and sunshine spots, without a doubt were running territory but flats were becoming a real issue. Luckily, we hit the climbs next so I could break up the pacing between hiking and letting gravity take me back down into the valleys.

We caught up to some 50K runners. Every time I spotted someone, I hoped it was 5th but by now, I knew what and who they were. We reached my teammate, Matt and he was having an OK day but nothing heroic for him. We talked for a while in single file as I happily slowed to his pace to regroup. Tiffany departed back to Great Falls before she got stuck too far along the trail. Her surprise pacing section really helped keep me going strong.

After half a mile, walking and talking with Matt, I had decided that I had recovered enough and didn’t want anyone to gain too much time on me.

I shot off and wished Matt well. I had about 12 miles to go and all I could focus on was where the next aid station was. For what felt like miles and miles, I was hoping it was the next corner or the next or I would hear voices. My memory from 5:45am was faint, the same as how I felt. I was walking way more than I would have liked. I kept knocking back more water, kept throwing in the S-caps (salt capsules). I was holding up but it was a real fight five inches between my ears.

Finally the aid station came. I grabbed the water and gave myself a shower. Grabbed some chews and received my bottle back from a volunteer. And out. I had not been that efficient at an aid stop all day. My watch told me I was still ahead of my goal time. My average pace was around 8:45’s now. Having not seen 5th for miles, I was content with my place. I was even so wiped that if 7th had made a go at it, they could have taken it.

At the lollipop loop with 4 to go, the sun blazed down on me by the lake and I was pretty much done for the day. Then, Benny calls from behind and catches up to me. He’s still leading the marathon but not looking as good as he had done on his way out to the turnaround point.

Without much thought, I caught back up trying to go his pace. Even, if it was just for a few hundred yards. The fire came back, we started working together. I knew I had to dig deeper to stick with him through to the finish. And then, Benny stopped. He walked, he groaned in his own agony. Good to know he is human. I was now the one telling Benny to keep going, encouraging him to dig deep.

We came back to the main stretch of the lollipop and saw 5th running towards us. He asked where to go, clearly lost and panicking. He followed me and Benny. (I was less than convinced he had run the lollipop at this point).

At the turn by the aid, we had 2.5 to go. Benny was still struggling and took in more fluid than me at the aid. I was ready to go, he wasn’t and now I had 5th place up for grabs. He was staring at me in the face! 5th ran ahead. It was a tough call but I waited for Benny. We had agreed to help each other home without really saying it verbally.

A long, long straight followed. Benny put on his after burners and caught up to the guy ahead. I’m not sure where he found that energy but I had to try to do the same.

I took off and gave everything. I recall seeing 6:30’s on my watch. I passed 5th and this time with utter purpose. The problem with this, was I got so pumped that I blew past Benny too! I kept going at that pace all the way down the straight. I pretended to myself that the finish was right at the end of the straight. It was lactate threshold excruciating! I didn’t dare turn to show 6th my worry but I really wanted to make sure Benny was coming right behind.

I reached the end of the straight, an absolute mess. Definitely sub-6’s down that stretch. I stopped, turned and prayed Benny was close and not 6th place. Why did I doubt him? As Benny got to me, I looked back and saw an orange dot that signaled game over. It was almost in the bag, a top 5 place.

We stayed side by side on the golf cart down to the car park, crossed the road and made the sharp left under the finish chute. I let Benny have his moment. He had crushed the field and the marathon course record too.

Benny wins the marathon and set a huge CR.

Benny wins the marathon and set a huge CR.

I cruised in behind and was ecstatic to take 5th in the 50 miler, a year after winning the 50K. There’s something about DC racing (my marathon PR is still from Marine Corps down the road).

Benny and me celebrated, completely exhausted. Tiffany dragged me off. I knew I needed shade and found some in a tent. I collapsed there for a while, my body was in bits. I had really hammered those last four miles with Benny but to grab another place and see him win was well worth it.

A top 5 place at the DC sauna race. Yep, I was happy with that!

A top 5 place at the DC sauna race. Yep, I was happy with that!

This was a great race. A real moral boost for me after a disappointing 50 at Bear. I didn’t like the heat at Bear but this heat and humidity was way higher and I coped really well in it. I thought I didn’t like the heat. Maybe I just do well in bad conditions? This is all good feedback, looking forward to ‘The Big Dance’ in California. Temperatures are predicted to be in the 100’s and likely hotter in the canyons.

I say “Bring.It.On!” Another fantastic weekend with my Novo Nordisk teammates. We shall all regroup in 4 weeks at Squaw Valley, CA and do it all over again, just a few miles more with a bit more heat. Can’t wait.

Team Novo Nordisk #changingdiabetes at The North Face Endurance Challenge

Team Novo Nordisk #changingdiabetes at The North Face Endurance Challenge

P.S. Wardian won. I’ll get him next time ; )

The North Face 50M: Surviving the Bear

Bear Mountain - start/finish line

Bear Mountain – start/finish line

Saturday May 4 2:30am; my second installment of 50 miles at The North Face Endurance Challenge Bear Mountain, NY was about to begin. (Yes, I ran it last year and made a conscious decision to come back). It was to be my first of two 50-milers in preparation for Western States 100.

My blood glucose was higher than I wanted, just above 200. I juggled the numbers with breakfast and basal rates. By 4:45am, just before lining up, another test, still 200. I changed out my water bottle of pure Gatorade for one of a mix of Gatorade and water, effectively halving the carbohydrates.

50 mile elevation chart!

50 mile elevation chart!

My 2012 time of 9:17 was good but I felt I could go sub-9 if everything fell into place. The race was about 300 deep and not many cared about being right at the front. Purely on my time goal, I opted to toe the line with McDougal and Schmitt (the two favorites). The weather was cool, for now in the upper 40’s but was headed towards a high of 72. I hoped the trees would protect my light skin (I’m no hot weather running fan).

5am: the start of the adventure!

5am: the start of the adventure!

We took off exactly at 5am, across the flat field, under a small bridge and then onto the trail.  The section was a lot of gradual ascending for three or so miles in darkness, our headlamps our only guide looking for the guy in front or glow sticks. There is definitely something really cool about night running or very early morning running as this was. I think it’s the fact knowing that 99% of people in the same time zone are sleeping. I know my choice. I view the 50-mile race, Bear in-particular, as an impatient hike due to the amount of walking involved with constant elevation changes. I’m pretty sure I was the impatient walker growing up, long wooded walks in the English countryside and darting off ahead.

Mile 2

Mile 3

I rolled out of the trail, just shy of 4 miles at the Fort Wayne aid station (doubling as the 40 mile aid too). I chucked my headlamp to a volunteer, shouted my bib number and kept going. I was ahead of schedule (I had sharpie data written all over my forearms for time/aid station as a rough guide).

I was in the top 20 and felt fine there. I placed 19th in 2012 so felt I was right on track. The next section was single track with rocks, roots and more rocks everywhere, basically a lot more technical than the first one. The eyes were in overdrive looking a few feet ahead, occasionally looking ahead to track the route via the runner ahead or the next ribbon marker. Eventually a more runnable section by the side of a misty lake was a great sight. The views you get to witness so early in the morning in mountains are priceless. I flew through aid two without any wasted time.

Descending a tricky single track soon followed. A few guys ran on my heels and I let them go by without a fight. I wasn’t going to force a pace that wasn’t comfortable on this terrain. I tried to let one more pass but he resisted. “No. It’s me Carlo”. Argh! A friendly face. I stayed ahead, we small talked for a while. As we then climbed a long asphalt road, my team-mate Ryan Jones caught up to make us a group of three.

Ryan had not run Bear before and made a few comments about the course so far, mostly swearing. We all laughed. Yep, the Bear sure is grizzly. The truth of the matter was, we were only 10K in and there was way harder stuff coming up for us. I checked my CGM while I wasn’t having to look for the next place to plant my foot and saw my BG had settled nicely at about 150 now.

Back on the trail, the three of us were about to do some of the hardest climbing of the course up to the peak at 15 and then again at 20. Picking when to run and when to walk was key. I mixed it up pretty good but definitely know my weakness on the trails; climbing. I let a lot of guys go here. Either they were stronger or naive. Carlo, was stronger as was the first placed woman. Ryan sat back and ran smart.

The climb took us to one of my favorite parts of the course. The trail looks like it ends with a big rock boulder in front. You look left and right searching for the orange ribbon but this is Bear, that’s not what goes on here. By my feet was a 50-mile arrow pointing straight towards the boulder.

I scrambled up the rock face using hands and feet together to get to the top. The reward is magnificent; flat rock sections to run on with views for miles. This ends sooner than you would like as you pass a small mountain cabin and descend again with hands and feet on the other side.

A standard descent at Bear.

A standard descent at Bear.

The runner below to my right shouted to a bunch of runners on my left “wrong way”. All those  climbers that went past were now behind me because they missed a marker. It’s that simple to get lost, one runner makes a mistake, everyone around follows. I felt lucky to have been where I was at the time and able to not make the mistake.

A steep and treacherously rocky descent followed for over a mile where everyone that had gone slightly astray was now working overdrive to get back in front. (Was it me or did we still have 35 miles to figure this all out?) We climbed a nasty rocky single track to the Arden Valley aid station, first heard (volunteers loves cowbells) and then beautifully into view.

Jumping through the rocks

Jumping through the rocks

A volunteer refueled my bottle. What I mistook for being Gatorade on offer was in fact the event sponsor’s brand; Clif, a similar electrolyte drink. So what? Well, I know that 20oz of Gatorade has 34 grams of carbohydrate (all sugar). What did Clif electrolyte have? Exactly. I had no idea. It was too late, what could I do. I had to assume the same carbohydrate rate. I have nothing against Clif, their chews and energy bars are awesome but I had never tried the drink. I had many gels and energy chews stuffed in my shorts and backpack so if I did need a fast-acting glucose, I had over means readily available.

A guy ahead was putting ear phones in down the road. I didn’t want to deal with passing him with music blaring so got in front before the next trailhead begun. Other than him, the pack had spread thin and I was now solo for a few miles. We ran by a rare open yellow field with the sun beaming down heavily. The trail was mostly pine here sloping heavily to the left which made for some good core work and tree grabbing skills. Occasionally, I would see a runner ahead or two and close in on them. A few big stone sections between marshy streams, remind me of the film, Labyrinth with the dog trying to get to the castle to rescue the girl from David Bowie! I guess my castle was the finish area but I couldn’t think that far ahead quite yet.

I knew from the elevation chart, I had now passed the highest point of the race. That really doesn’t mean as much as you think on Bear though due to the never-ending continuous ascending and descending and rocky terrain to stop you ever getting into a rhythm.

A guy ahead dipped his hat in a stream. I thought it was a bit overkill so early in the morning. As I passed the stream, I copied him and put my hat back on. He was correct! The sun had come up and it was already getting that hot. So hot I guess that I ran down a hill turned right and ran back towards some runners behind me. As embarrassing as it was, I was glad they were there to stop me going further than a few feet the wrong way!

Rocks and water hazards galore.

Rocks and water hazards galore.

By mile 21, I was at another aid station by a big lake. I didn’t have much time to marvel this view but Tiffany probably did. She was there to greet me and do a blood test (she was carrying my spare meter);143. I clenched my fist with joy as the aid station volunteers stared at me. Maybe they thought my lottery ticket had come in.

I refueled the large bladder of water here for the long stretch ahead. I grabbed some cups of Coke and a few orange slices. Tiffany tried to point me in the wrong direction. Now, not only was I trying to run in the wrong direction but my number one crew member was trying her best to do it to me too!

Over a stream via tree branch and then across the road back to the trail. The section involved lots of long straights. A part of the course to get some time back from the earlier climbing. This section is far from boring however. At the southern most part of the course, is where the magic is and only the 50-milers get to see it. Huge open spaces with flat rocks for our feet  and 360 degree views for our eyes and heart. It feels like stepping out onto a new State (Utah always springs to mind, although I’ve never been – yet!). The direction of the trail changed frantically from straight across a flat rock to a hard right or left through a small gap or jump down to a lower rock. Adult’s playground? Absolutely. My only company up here were bemused Japanese hikers who stared at me, not sure what to think! Well the impatient hiker in me could run free here and I did.

Running the rocks: the top of Harriman State park

Running the rocks: the top of Harriman State park

I rolled into Camp Lanowa aid station at 27.7 miles, now in ultra territory. Some high school boys were throwing a football around to entertain themselves cheering me in. I got a small bout of energy from them and called for the ball. This kid didn’t take into account, I had just run over a marathon or that I’m English. Yes, excuses over, I dropped the catch! (Jerry Rice would not be proud of me Team Run NYC!).

Another blood test here; 124. Not only were my numbers great, my CGM was showing me the same readings. I had been monitoring it all morning and seeing a great level of consistency, really, rally satisfying stuff. A few cups of Coke, orange slices (why change a good thing?) and back at it.

Well, “back at it”, sounds very misleading. I had now started hitting my wall. The positive was, the two longest sections were done. I knew my times were off, I wasn’t hitting my aid station goals for sub-9. My Garmin watch wasn’t helping either claiming I had run two more miles than I actually had. This began to mess with my head when I thought I would see an aid station but had to plough another twenty minutes until I actually did.

Obstacle Mountain - yes, this is part of the course!

Obstacle Mountain – yes, this is part of the course!

In between trail sections here, was a long asphalt climb. And I mean, real long! As soon as it went up, I knew I had to walk it. Ryan Jones came up by me. I hadn’t seen him for a while. We exchanged “pleasantries” about how hot it was, how tough the course was, how much our bodies ached. Oh, we also were having great blood glucose control though! Are endocrinologists would be proud of us for that. Ryan is one tough guy. He came into the race after a week of flu and therefore, obviously no running. He also had just won the NJ 100 earlier in March. We ran a section of the climb together. I felt bad to say anything to him but I had to stop and walk again. Ryan was relieved to hear it and for a moment, both of us were hands on knees in the middle of the road just saying “Oh man” in synch. It was kind of comical looking back.

Ryan found 2nd gear afterwards and kept going. I followed but remained in 1st (with the hand brake also up). The trail began again and was a nice change from the asphalt climb, well until we started to tip toe over some more basketball sized rocks all spread out. I had found a couple of new runners now to mingle with and we were all asking the same question; where was this next aid station?! At this point, the brain needs to break down the race into small chunks just to handle the magnitude of the task at hand. Aid stations are mini-goals. It’s like trying to run to the next lamppost when you’ve never run before. By the time you’ve made it, you grow in confidence and can push yourself to look for the next one.

By the time I was back at Fort Wayne aid station, I felt like I was surviving the course, not running for any sort of time. My whole body was really fighting to stay in the event while my fried brain was looking at ways out of it. I saw Ryan again at the aid station, he was about to head out. My blood here was 191. My highest of the race. I ditched most of my Gatorade and replaced it with water to weaken it like I did at the start.

Off I shuffled up the very unattractive car park area for a stretch. I caught up to Mon and Jess from TeamRunNYC. We stopped for a photo. Mon was apologizing for slowing me down. “Do I look like I needed slowing down?!” I said. I was barely alive at this point. Kino, also joined us. He was a second pacer for Jess’s first ultra. That’s one cool trio right there folks. Kino and Mon pacing the whole 50K for a friend. Hats off to all of them.

I went ahead as the trail was flat, winding left and right over a few bridges. But then trouble really came. A climb. It must have been all of six feet high. It looked and felt like agony. OK, now I’m in serious trouble I said to myself. I walked sections I would normally bomb. This was not pretty. The pain my body was letting out was almost too unbearable. A week later, I still can’t find the right words to describe this pain. Jess, Kino and Mon caught back up. Kino kept offering me gels and food snacks believing it would help. He didn’t know my sugar was 191, he instantly thought I just needed sugar. I think he was in shock to see me in so much pain! They continued as I dragged my way along pathetically losing a bunch of time. I questioned when this would be over. I still had Timp Pass coming up (a huge climb and descent). If I walked from here, that would be over two more hours, nowhere near my initial goal time. It was depressing.

I looked at rocks, I was shopping for a nice big smooth rock. If I could just find a good one, I knew I was beyond ready for a nice sit down, maybe even a nap and call it a day.  I had told myself that Keila would catch up soon and when she was here, she would just wake me up! What a great plan. No, that was a terrible plan and completely unlike my nature but I truly did think that. Let’s just say, thank goodness I couldn’t find a rock I liked.

I descended down a super steep section with Jess and co only just ahead. In my hour of absolute agony, it felt comforting to have friends close by. I was still dreading the big climb, I knew it was anytime soon….and then out of nowhere we had made it to the 45th mile aid station. A really fun party atmosphere one in the middle of the woods with lots of people working or 50K’ers having a few moments break from the course.

I was in shock. I had been dreading the climb and it wasn’t where I thought it was. Two 50K runners were eating and drinking and patting each other on the back. “Right, this is it. The final push, 10K to go” one of them said. The light bulb in my low energy head went on. He’s right, the final push. I didn’t even say bye to my friends (who were having a great time by the way), I ran on, got on with it. My watch had hit 9 hours. The dream goal was well gone. This wasn’t to be my day for any PR’s. I knew I knew I had about an hour more of pain.

It was now a good mix of 50K runners and 50 milers. The atmosphere was picking up, you could sense we were all close to the same ultimate goal, finishing. A sharp left and Timp Pass begun. You could see people ahead high up climbing the big rocks to the peak of the curved climb. 3rd place woman now passed by and looked strong. My watch read 9:17 up the climb. I shook my head and couldn’t fathom how I ran that time a year ago.

And down Timp I went. Not overly fast, there was nothing to gain now but still fast enough to impress some of the 50K runners. I guess, when I did my first ultra here two years ago, I recall a runner running down this section and was in disbelief of how they could do it. It must all come down to experience on trails, leading to confidence over time. It truly is, a very different type of running than road running.

As Timp got lower, the rocks got bigger. EMT was trekking up the opposite way to take care of the guy with a gashed knee. Talk about a tough place to try to get too, Timp Pass was most definitely it. The trail finally became runnable and instantly, the last aid station was there with 2.8 miles to go. I have never stopped here and didn’t plan on starting now. A couple of 50 milers were milling around and I took advantage of that. I had no idea of my placing, nor did I overly care. My focus was solely on breaking ten hours and would need some 8/min miles to do it. I flew down the descents, over a bridge and up a climb on the far side giving it everything, I couldn’t afford to walk. But, I had no choice, walking it was. My legs were dead. I sloached moving forward. There was no way I was going to even break 10-hours now I thought.

One...more...mile

One…more…mile

A final mile and a half to go and most of it downhill, I stretched my legs again and let gravity do most of the work for me. I was playing leapfrog with a guy in green (later to find out it was Jason Friedman, a fellow NJ trail series/Leadville runner). A few more teasing ascents just to really dig the knife in and then I saw the bridge which I had gone under hours earlier. My watch read 9:56. I was relieved to know I somehow was going to duck in under ten hours. A long, long way short from my sub-9 goal but small victories are something you take at Bear Mountain, at ultrarunning actually.

Tired!

‘Ooh – comfy grass to lie on!’

This was definitely not my day. I had been looking forward to lying down for hours and chose to do so immediately as I crossed the line. This was anything but a celebration, pure relief and joy I could now finally stop moving forward. It was over.

Lots of my friends surrounded me immediately. Tiffany helped me up, Melissa gave me an ice-cold cup of water and Den Is, all smiles gave me a helping hand too. He told me he won the 50K when I asked. That didn’t surprise me. I later found out his time was 4:13 and had won by over 47 minutes!!! That did surprise me but he is something else.

An ice bath for my feet followed. I’m not used to them, so didn’t last anything close to the prescribed ‘ten minutes’. My quads and calves were completely shot. I wanted to go the medical tent, beer tent and food tent all at the same time. I opted for the DIY medical tent with ice bags on my quads and regrouped with my Team Novo Nordisk team-mates; Ryan, who had just finished ahead and Matt P – who ran the 50K (smart man).

We hung out at the finish line area on the grass bank for a few hours as we eagerly awaited our final team-mate’s arrival. Laura, had just flown in from San Diego the day before and this was her first ultra. No 50K, no flat, easy 50M, straight at it! Matt, Ryan and me were needless to say impressed. And more so, when she finished all smiles. I think we’ve just got ourselves one more ultra runner!

Team Novo Nordisk back in one piece! #changingdiabetes

Team Novo Nordisk back in one piece! #changingdiabetes

So, I left feeling slightly disappointed. I set the bar high (again). I’ve had days to reflect what the race means. Number one: I don’t quit. That’s the best news I can ask for getting ready for Western States. I managed my blood glucose control really well (I started at 200 and finished at 146 with zero problems for 50 miles). I can’t wait to do it all over again at Washington DC in four weeks. Yeah, I think everything will be OK. As Matt said, you can’t always have the perfect day but you can always have fun. That, I did for sure.

2013 Race Calendar; The Plan of Attack!

I have spent a few more weeks than I had planned in my off-season; my right ITB told me to roll more, rest more. It’s given me time to reflect on an amazing 2012, appreciate being 100% healthy and like most runners in December-January; plan for an even more amazing 2013.

The A race (of all A races!)

My “A” race stands out like a sore thumb, in a very very good way; Western States 100. As a first time entrant to the lottery system to the oldest and most prestigious 100 miler in the world, the chances of actually getting a place were between slim and none. I somehow got in. What is it with me and raffles in 2012? I don’t know but I need to be buying Mega Millions too. I’ll be rubbing shoulders with the best in the sport; Tim Olson, Ryan Sandes, Ellie Greenwood to name only a few. I will be fortunate enough to share this awesome experience with my Team Novo Nordisk teammate; Ryan Jones (a fellow LT100 finisher in 2012).

Did someone say running in Colorado?! I’ll go!

My second major race falls into a new distance. The 100K race is something yet to be tackled on my resume. I’ve seemed to found a fairly successful race distance between 50K and 50M; the “W” from The North Face in DC and my 16th place at JFK (both 2012) are my highlights to date. I was unable to enter the Ultra Race of Champions (UROC) event last year due to the date being a week apart from the Chicago Marathon. This year, no such marathon dilemma, it is fully on my radar. It will be my “A2” race if you will. The event, in it’s third year now, attracts the best athletes going after the biggest prize money in ultra running (not that I think I will get anywhere near the pot of gold!) It has moved from Virginia to Colorado for 2013. I don’t think I can resist the challenge of some thin mountain air on a great point to point course beginning in Breckenridge and finishing in Vail.

Looking to PR big time @ the oldest one of them all; Boston Marathon

But, back to the start. I”ll kick things off with some winter training with a great and smart training partner; Gary Berard, and give Boston a good effort. It’s time to shave off some time from my PR of 2:45. Then, it will be full on trail season with a return to Bear Mountain for 50 miles and DC for the same distance (key fitness tests for Western States). I’m dabbling with Pocono Marathon in mid-May purely from a downhill elevation perspective (specificity training). Remaining races will no doubt happen on a whim to add the year. I haven’t figured out a half-marathon yet towards Boston for starters and I’m keen to tackle a Half-Ironman maybe towards the end of the year. I am really excited and ready to race alongside my team mates at Team Novo Nordisk and make this year the best one yet.

Here’s the calendar to date (bold=registered);

February 16th: Martha’s Vineyard 20-Miler, MA (tbd)

April 15th: Boston Marathon, MA

May 4th: TheNorthFace Endurance Challenge 50M, Bear Mountain, NY

May 19th: Pocono Marathon, PA (tbd)

June 1st: TheNorthFace Endurance Challenge 50M, Washington DC 

June 29th: Western States 100, Squaw Valley-Auburn, CA

July 20th: 20in24 Relay, Philadelphia, PA

September 28th: UROC 100K, Vail CO (tbd)

JFK 50 Mile: The 33 Minute PR

A year ago I stepped up to what many regard as a ‘real’ ultramarathon; 50 miles. The race to me was simply known as JFK. I have since learned much of its history. It is the oldest 50 mile foot race in USA, inspired by Teddy Roosevelt and implemented by President Kennedy in 1963 to make sure all military officers were fit for war. The course has stayed the same each year since. Starting out in the small town of Boonsboro, MD, the race is 15.5 miles of road climbing and Appalachian Trail (AT), just over a marathon on the C&O canal towpath and ending with 8 miles of rolling road hills into Williamsport, MD. I learned a lot from my first 50 in 2011, mostly don’t assume your body will keep going without fueling or pacing!  I was however ecstatic with my 7 hours 13 minutes and 33rd overall. How could I not be? It was a PR!

JFK elevation: 15 miles of trail fun followed by 35 miles of flat and fast canal path/rolling hill roads

I returned to this historic race for precisely that reason. This year was the 50th running of the oldest 50 mile race in the country. I signed up in Spring for one of the 1,000 places against 10,000 people and was lucky to get a place. I think I put about six stamps on my envelope come to think about it, just to make sure I had paid enough postage and maybe it would get there even quicker!

Race Day: November 17th 2012

I woke up at 5am to temperatures just above freezing that would rise to a high of 52. Perfect running conditions. First, great weather in Leadville (no thunderstorms), then Chicago (no heat) and now JFK. The weather gods have been kind to me this year. Walking the half mile from Boonsboro school to the start line on the main street bundled up in five layers, I had the intention of starting the race with a long-sleeve top over my Brooks ID singlet and wear hat and gloves. I scanned what over runners were wearing and decided to scrap my extra layers and go singlet and sleeves from the start. A final pre-race blood test had me at 240. My glucose had risen from 143 at breakfast. Not ideal and a slight miscalculation of bolus intake. I already had my hand-held bottle filled with Gatorade which I now wished was just water. I poured half of it away, upset with myself for not having water to replace it with and/or having a better starting blood glucose. Probably both. I increased my basal rate on my insulin pump and knew I could get water at aid stations to stay hydrated. I would figure it out, I always seem too.

The start of the 50th annual JFK 50; me (in neon yellow, no not Eric Clifton in pink tights!)

The great-grandson of Teddy Roosevelt fired the starter pistol to get us under way at 7am sharp. I sat right behind the two favorites; Max King and David Riddle before they quickly pushed up to the very front. As the top 25 of us quickly took off from the main pack, I immediately wished I had kept my gloves as the cold wind rushed over my hands.

The pace was fast, faster than I had thought possible. 7:02 at mile 1. I had studied my Garmin data from JFK 2011 and knew I was too aggressive in the first half of the race which led to a breakdown in the second half with cramps through miles 32-38. So why was I running a 7-minute mile?! In my defense, the start of the race is a good time to jockey for position before the trail section and road miles are always going to be quicker than trails.

Road miles out of Boonsboro, MD

My plan for this year’s race was 8:30 average pace through the first 15 miles and 7:30’s for the last 35. This would equate to a 6 hour 30 minute race. Plan B was: 6:43. Why so precise? A 30 minute improvement from 2011 sounded nice and Plan C was to go sub-7 hours. My training seven weeks post-Chicago consisted of not much training. Rest had become the new mileage. My longest run had been 16 easy miles.

We soon climbed steeply for a mile and jumped onto the first section of trail. As the sun rose on my left, the shining light flickered through the trees making it hard to see the trail but at the same time, was one of those beautiful images that remind you why you are a runner. This trail section was fairly wide and still a frenetic pace for 50 miles. An aid station appeared so I grabbed a cup of water as planned to balance out the effort of the first few miles.

We hit a road section again, in the woods now, and climbed again, this time steeper to get to the highest point of the course. Ellie Greenwood was a few yards ahead of me and I studied her as she chose when to run and when to walk the hill. I copied her. My average pace had fallen to 10/min miles but I trusted what I was doing. This is the two-time Western States 100 champion as well as numerous other amazing achievements in the sport. Others around her chose to run the whole way up. I knew I would see the majority of these people again before the race was over.

A familiar looking volunteer from last year pointed at a narrow gap into the woods and I now knew we were onto the magical AT section for 10 miles. This is by far the toughest part of the course, not because of elevation changes but the jagged rocks buried under and around large brown leaves. The pace now fell into that 8:30 range but the energy expenditure felt like 7:30’s. As tough as it I say it was, it is and will always be the most fun part too.

I joined forces with a familiar face, Derek Schultz on the AT, a fellow Brooks ID runner with a very strong ultra background (Laurel Highlands Ultra course record holder). He bombed the downhills and I caught him on the flats as we shared stories for a few miles. We passed the JFK 50 legend Eric Clifton in his trademark outrageous running tights (neon pink this year) and Derek chatted to him while I closed the gap on a pack of three ahead.

I tagged on the back and we became a solid four, staying in order passing the early 5am starters. The last few miles of AT are where the rocks get trickier as your brain gets more tired. It’s also a place that has put a nice dent in my right shin for life from my fall last year.

Just as I thought to myself I may just get off this trail without falling, down I went at the feet of two men from the 5am start. They were staring straight down at me as I moaned in some serious pain. One of them said to the other “That one looked like it really hurt” as if they had been hanging out at the third corner of NASCAR all day comparing car crashes.

They were right. That one did really hurt. My left foot got tucked under a rock and down I went hard on my right side, my right knee connecting perfectly with a rock embedded on the trail waiting to cut me open. I very gingerly got up and got handed my water bottle that must have flown off course during the downfall. I looked down to see if the pain was actually warranted and saw a nice line of claret over the notch of my tibia and was relieved. I mean, if you’re going to fall and moan about it, you want to see proof it hurt right! I hobbled, I walked and finally I ran again and slowly got back into my stride, relived it had not been any worse.

Descending the switchbacks of Weverton Cliffs

At 14.5 miles, I was now functioning like nothing had happened back there. I descended the steep Weverton Cliffs switchbacks down to the Potomac River. A 1,000ft drop in less than a mile. There were lots of 5am runners in this section so I had to communicate well to get by without any more drama. If the switchbacks had a tree on the inside, I grabbed it and swung around the turn without losing too much speed. Clearly the fall, had not hurt my confidence.

I heard lots of cheers below and soon ran through a large crowd of spectators including Michael Chu as I got close to the C&O canal towpath section. At the aid station prior to this 26.3 mile stretch of flat monotonous running was Tiffany, being a trooper running around Maryland all day supporting me. She greeted me with a huge smile and handed me my blood tester. I pricked my finger, blood strip already set up and got my reading: 275. 27…what?

My glucose went up after 15.5 miles? I filled my water bottle with water and kept on going. I analyzed in my head why 275. I had thought that maybe on the trail I was going low around miles 10-13 so knocked back two gels, which in hindsight I never needed. I readjust my basal level from -60% to -20% and would see where my glucose was again at mile 27.

I checked my average pace for the first third of the race; 8:25. Just faster than I had planned but I was happy with that. Now was time to get into my faster stride. I was hitting 7:38 average for the first few miles of the canal. Not quite the 7:30’s I would need for Plan A but it was still early in the race and I found my pace to be manageable. The most important thing was not to run a mile faster than 7:30 even though I felt good. I passed a pair of runners who made a comment “The race doesn’t start until mile 30”. It made me think. I actually put that in my head but changed it to mile 35. I still remember how quickly the body can fall apart from miles 30-35 with that ‘still X miles to go’ mentality.

Changing pace on the C&O canal path

Just shy of marathon distance, I saw a deer ahead on the canal path. I’ve always enjoyed seeing them while out on the trail. As I got closer, I waited for the deer to see me and bolt but it never did. I ran around it giving the guy some space but clearly not enough as it begun to follow me and then decided to chase me! When did deer ever chase humans! My pace went into marathon mode for a few yards until it either felt sorry for me or just got bored with this running thing.

I then teamed up with a human. We chased each other back and forth but not like the deer. We decided it would be easier to say hi, acknowledge we were running the same pace and run together. He (Nick), like many others in the race was part of the military, based at West Point, NY. We ran into a main aid station at 27 to lots of cheers, still chatting away. Tiffany was there again, ready to help me with my blood test; 250. Well, going down but still not low enough to start really eating much. I gave her my handheld water bottle, no need for that anymore as now aid stations were frequent along the canal path (every 4 miles or so) and I was carrying gels in my compression short pockets anyway (if I would ever need them), so I didn’t need to be lugging around Gatorade on heavy arms. Tiffany told me we were in 26th and 27th place.

I caught back up to Nick and we carried on at our pace. We discussed our JFK races from last year, both with similar stories of good but not great performances. He was way ahead of his time goal so when he stopped to take an S-cap and said he would catch me back up and never did, I wasn’t too surprised.

I hit 50K and knew the next few miles would be the toughest mentally. There would be aid at mile 34 and the next main one at 38. The aid station at mile 34 never seemed to come as the long left bend around the Potomac River just kept on going and going with no one in sight. I almost wanted to see another deer! My pace was now slipping towards the 8 minute mark and I wasn’t feeling great. I knew I wasn’t going to cramp like last year; I had been taking two S-Caps on the hour like clockwork. It was my sugar. This time, I knew it for a fact. I could feel the symptoms of a hypo, not just the effort of running 34 miles. I finally saw a dozen Santa and elf hats and an area decorated in tinsel. What a great sight! A volunteer asked what I wanted and I said “Everything!” I grabbed two cups of Coke, M&M’s, orange slices, pretzel sticks and some cookies. I told them, this was the best aid station on the course. Partly because it was decked out for Christmas but also because mile 34 of 50 miles sucks! It’s far enough into the race that you’re really hurting but still too far enough from the finish, you can’t get too excited about it being ‘almost’ over. I played games in my head; 8 miles of canal path, 8 miles of roads. ‘Lets go’ I told myself.

Mile 34 Cookie Monster sighting

I left the aid station swiftly and munched on the food. I had three cookies left. I ate one but quickly realized I was not carrying any more liquid. Their was no way I could eat the other two cookies without getting a really dry throat. I decided to keep them by putting one in each of my short pockets. I don’t know why I did this, I had gels on standby if need be but laughed to myself as I felt like the Cookie Monster taking on the JFK50! Churning out these mid-30’s miles was real agony. I knew a 6:30 finish time was off the table now but as I turned a corner onto a long straight away, I saw a great sight; three runners way ahead. I knew I would eventually get to them. This image gave me new energy. Seeing them and my mile 34 aid station intake made me feel so much better. The pace came back to 7:35-40 and I closed the gap gradually. Eventually I passed them and knew I was now closing in on the top 20 of the JFK50. This became a new goal in itself, one that I did not plan or think about at all pre-race.

I kept my placing but felt my energy and pace dip again as the final aid station on the C&O canal path was not too far away. I pulled out one of the cookies from my shorts and ate it with an energy gel, about 50 grams of simple and complex carbs as one. My mistake of experiencing two hypos close together was that I had tweaked my basal rate of insulin between miles 27-38 and I had been too aggressive to bring my glucose level down.

At the aid station, Tiffany asked how I was doing. My reply was negative for the first time “I’m so tired”. Rightly so, 38 miles is, well 38 miles. But it wasn’t the distance. My glucose was 90. Proof that I had been fighting hypos. I took a Gatorade from her and downed it in seconds and grabbed some Jelly Belly Sport Beans.

Mile 41: the C&O canal towpath almost over

I pushed on but still didn’t feel great. The third place woman passed me and I watched her as she ran with an effortless stride (unlike me). I realized she was hurting too, just not showing it. I kept her in sight and as my glucose rose from the Gatorade and sport beans, my body felt better and I noticed on my watch that there were now only 10 miles left. That’s nothing, I said! 2 miles of canal path, 8 miles of roads. Dig deep. And I did. 7:09, 7:07 for the last two canal path miles.

I had caught back up and re-passed her, promising her beer and pizza at the end for helping me. By keeping her in sight, we had both closed the gap on some other runners who were now also behind us. One of which was third place runner Jeff Buechler from last years 2011 JFK. I felt bad for him, his leg must have blown up or something to be this far back from the leaders.

My pace was now really going up in gear. My glucose felt like it was back to normal and I was about to hit the last section of the course; the rolling asphalt hills. The part I like to forget, is the immediate climb off the C&O canal path which is 200m of pure agony. Your pace goes from hare to tortoise as you clamber up it. I didn’t dare look at my heart rate data but I’m sure it was close to max. I reached the crest with no desire to go any further until I saw a runner ahead. As I ran along the farm roads, one turn then showed me that after him there was no one left to catch. With under 8 miles to go, I was convinced this would be my last place to take. I contemplated sitting on him until one mile to go but quickly realized he was suffering far worse than me so passed by, wished him well and I truly felt sorry for him even though we had over a 10K to go. I asked him if anyone was ahead. He said no. Why would he have said yes? He knew it would only motivate me to kick on. Smart runner, dumb question from me.

I crested a hill as I opened the gap on him. He was right, no one. Just me and the road and an excruciating 7 miles to go! I chose the 8.5 road miles to think of my uncle and his battle with cancer using each mile as a year of his fight. It really helped me because I was absolutely exhausted. I went past an aid station and grabbed a cup of Gatorade to top up my glucose level. I refused to have another hypo now and didn’t care so much if I went the other way. I even threw away my last cookie like a pro cyclist would throw away a water bottle before a big climb. Every ounce mattered to me. I’m pretty sure looking back, that throwing the cookie away didn’t do anything for me!

For the first and only time on the course, we had mile markers. They were traditional wooden blocks by the side of the road with the number of miles to go. All on my own and ready to be done, all I wanted, was to see the next one with a 6 on it.  As I closed in on the mile 6 board, the wind knocked it over on its back as I ran past. I laughed at that one. This was exactly how I felt! I hadn’t looked at my watch for a while. My pace at this point was what it was, meaning I had no more speed to give. It was just under 8-min pace which I knew would put me around 6:43 finish time (Plan B goal). I focused hard to remain sub-8 minute pace.

With 5 miles to go, I noticed a guy in the distance running on an adjoining road. He looked the part. Light shoes, skinny, skimpy shorts. The tell-tale signs of a fast runner. He joined the race road and ran ahead of me. After having some time to really think about this ironic scenario, genius me realized he was not a random runner, he was the next guy ahead of me! I had to assume he went the wrong way or took a pit stop. Either way, I was on his heels and soon he was another one behind me.

Mile 46

Any excuse not to run now ; )

I turned right in between a row of small houses and saw a police car stopping traffic. I knew this was mile 46. I also knew I wasn’t going to see Tiffany here but really wanted too. This pain was really getting unbearable now. Then, of course she jumped into the street cheering me on. It was awesome. My energy was again lifted and the road was now coned off to traffic with the final 4 mile stretch.

At three miles to go, I hit another long straight and I could see three more runners ahead. One was Ian Torrence who I had run with in the pack of 4 back on the AT, hours earlier. I had to pinch myself that I was going to maybe catch this guy. He is a few years older and maybe not his old speed but this guy is a real name in ultra running.

And so it was, I chalked off more guys. My plan to not run hard early and blow up was working. My tank was close to empty but I had been slowly improving my place for most of the race. I had not been passed properly since early in the AT section.

I climbed a sweeping hill to the final aid station at the top. I remembered this and knew I was one mile shy of the end…until the volunteer shouted “1.5 miles to go!” Oh well. What’s half a mile over 50.2 miles right? I turned left to roll downhill on a main road and glanced to my left to see the last person I had passed way back and no threat to me now. I could have eased off the pace at this point and kept my place but I knew I was close to a 6:40 finish time. I made that my mission as I clocked off a 7:10 mile 49.

That 33 minute 50 mile PR feeling!

Can you say ‘Run Happy’ Brooks runners?

I climbed a slight hill on the final straight and saw the finish in the far distance. What a sight! I pushed all the way home and made it; 6:40:38 an average pace of 8 minute miles. I had just taken 33 minutes off last year’s time. What a difference a year makes in my short ultra running career.

I got helped over to a chair by the finish line where I got to celebrate with Tiffany and was also greeted to another familiar face; ultra runner Mark Rodriguez, who came out to watch. I did a post-run blood test for the first time in the comfort of sitting down; 123. A man stood over us and said “I like to see those numbers” explaining further that he was a doctor. We agreed. It was the first good one of the day!

I walked into the Williamsport school to go and take a shower. I hid from the first aid medics that would have loved to play with my gashed knee (I learnt my lesson from this last year!), chat with Ellie Greenwood (by far the best female ultra runner in the world right now) who enjoyed the fact that my last name was England like no tomorrow and met with Max King and David Riddle too. Top ultra runners but better still, top people who genuinely care about their fellow runners as much as they care about their own performances. JFK next year? Maybe. I prefer the mountains to flat courses. If I do go back, I have to consider breaking into the Top 10 males as my goal. We will see. With this much fun and support on the course, why not? For now, rest and more rest before my inaugural race for Team Type 1 in the  California International Marathon on December 2nd.

Ellie Greenwood was more amazed at my last name than her 17-minute course record win (I like to think so).

Finally caught up: Me with Max King (new course record holder) and David Riddle (2011 winner and old course record holder)


 

 

Jeff, Jen, Me and Tiffany. Hanging out at the finish line ready for Buffalo Wild Wings!

Gotta Run with Will

In September, I was honored to be asked by Will Sanchez to be on his show; ‘Gotta Run With Will’. Previous guests have included some local celebrities of the NYC running scene; Nicole Sin Quee, Francis Laros, Deanna Culbreath, Jonathan Cane and Terence Gerchberg. I had a great time being his guest discussing my running resume, managing diabetes and of course the Leadville 100 in honor of my Uncle Dave!

Will is a true part of NYC running. He has been a member of New York Road Runners since 2003, worked as a mentor with Team in Training (Leukemia and Lymphoma Research) and attends the famous NYC Run Club; where I have met 99% of my New York friends! Thank you Will and the team at Gotta Run with Will.

 

In The (Naomi Berrie Diabetes Center) News…

The Naomi Berrie Diabetes Center have just released the September e-newsletter and look who’s the main feature; your rundiabetes CEO Stephen England! Credit goes out to Troy Finn, Assistant Vice President for Development at NBDC and Michele Hoos, Communications Manager for Columbia University Medical Center who interviewed me and put this all together.

The article, click here; http://www.nbdiabetes.org/?p=3345 highlights different parts of my life with diabetes; early diagnosis struggles with the combination of athletics and diabetes, searching for the right endocrinologist in New York, my recent 100 mile challenge at Leadville and my future race goals. I hope you like it.

I will be seeing my Naomi Berrie team next week for my quarterly appointment before I head out to the mid-west for my next race; the Chicago Marathon on October 7th where I hope to PR!

Race Report: Leadville Trail 100 (Inbound)

Winfield – Twin Lakes (50 – 60.5)

Winfield aid station

With Rui by my side, we strolled out of Winfield. I was now wearing gators over my shoes as I was sick of wasting time, stopping to remove stones. I was digesting food on the road back to the trail section so it was a pretty slow start. Even so, I was excited to show Rui Hope Pass. He would be my witness to how tough this was! I had two concerns going on. My stomach wasn’t happy and climbing Hope from the south side was going to be a steeper grade and test me.

Winfield to Twin Lakes via Hope Pass at 12,600ft

The trail was a little congested with runners coming towards us making their way to Winfield. An unwritten rule is that whoever is in front has right of way,  so it got under my skin when some of these folks didn’t seem to care about this and made me wait for them to pass. It reminded me of the NYC subway system, a complete free for all with people getting on the train before allowing people to get off. When the terrain was flat or down, I ran, if it was uphill or slightly technical underfoot, I went back to walking.

All smiles towards Hope Pass climb with Rui

We reached the sharp left turn, the start of a 2.5 mile climb up approximately 2,400ft. Embedded rocks acted as steps and skinny trees acted as a handrail to propel me up the mountain. When these natural objects weren’t available, it was good old-fashioned steady relentless steps, the ‘no stopping’ rule again in full force.

Rui reminded me to drink water. I guess the altitude wasn’t making me believe I was sweating and therefore threw my brain off the necessity to hydrate. Also as we climbed, the temperature was dropping, another factor as to why I wasn’t dying of thirst. I had a sip or so every time he said it but it was not easy. Eating and/or drinking going up is tough. You’re trying to take down energy or fluids while your body is going up. Not a great combination.

About halfway up the climb, Rui pulled me to the side of the trail to eat. My glucose was in the low 200’s so we opted for some potato chips, carbs without the sugar. This was also the best food source to fight off nausea as well, so it had a double effect at 11,000ft. I took down two chips real slowly. I’m pretty adamant my face looked no different from when I was 7 years old refusing to eat my greens while my Nana told me how good they were for me! Rui was doing a good job playing Nana. He didn’t let up. He made me eat several more before allowing me to continue the climb.

As a big group came towards us up the climb, I was down to the last chip. We didn’t want to get stuck behind this group so we jumped back on the trail, onwards and very much upwards. The surrounding trees soon thinned out which meant we were close to the top (if you count a mile as close). We climbed a section where it was hands and feet stuff before getting onto the switchbacks to the top.

A few runners were sitting down with their patient pacers. I gave them a high-five or a tap on the leg to try to get them going but refused to focus too much on their agony, it could be me any minute if I let my brain think about. The climb was now really tough with the thin mountain air in full effect. Certain parts involved climbing on tippy toes. If you were to put your heel down, you would have fallen backwards. I was playing real life Snakes and Ladders and I refused to land on any snakes! Rui paced slightly ahead and we were in a groove rolling double sixes all the way up.

For the first time in the race, I felt rain. On went the rain jackets. I borrowed one from Francis only the day before. It was a thicker jacket than the one I planned to use. I wasn’t motivated to throw it on because of the rain though, this was just drizzle to a Brit. The reason lay in the temperature drop. It was significant and the winds were now swirling all around us.

Looking back from atop Hope Pass

We hit the top of Hope Pass. We looked back, we looked forward. Such incredible scenery. I instinctively grabbed a rock to keep as a memento.

Rui adjusted his jacket as the wind was kicking our asses all over the place. His brand new cap flew off his head and he could only watch it as it flew away. He thought it was cool rather than  getting annoyed at his misfortune.  I didn’t want to hang around to lose my hat so off I went descending the trail. I was pretty confident he would catch up!

Looking ahead atop Hope Pass. Hopeless aid just below and Twin Lakes in the distance

It was half a mile to Hopeless aid station. I had run further than ever in my life while climbing Hope Pass twice. A guy called Donny told me Thursday night “Don’t quit, you’re going to want to quit. Probably around mile 55”. Donny couldn’t have been more wrong.  Me and Rui were two big kids flying down this famous mountain without a care in the world. We startled a few runners ahead with our enthusiasm and energy. Should I have held back a little bit? Maybe but I wasn’t going to win this thing, I was here to enjoy the experience and I was most definitely doing that.

Hopeless aid station was full of runners refilling water bottles, getting hot soup or fixing their feet. We stopped and I did a blood test; 193. I took off my rain jacket and grabbed some water and a cup of soup.  I wanted to keep the descent going to bring the glucose down but Rui again held the reins on me and told me to eat before we continued. Besides, when would we next eat soup next to llamas again?! My stomach was already feeling  better than back at Winfield. My pacers persistent caloric intake was working, even though my brain was saying ” just run”.

Hopeless aid station. Tip of my woolly cap for those volunteers!

We thanked the volunteers and said our goodbyes. We had 3 miles of descending to do. Without doubt, this section was the most fun. Not too steep or too technical so we upped the pace all the way down making up some time from the outbound section, whizzing past cautious runners. As Rui was ahead I had a path to follow. If it looked good I followed, if he had to move his feet out of a tricky situation, I took a different route.

A section of single track expressway Rui and myself tore up…or down?!

What felt like sub-7 pace was actually 8:30’s. The average pace of last years winner Ryan Sandes was 10/min miles for the whole race so if I could just sort my climbing out I’ll one day start cashing checks for having this much fun! Here’s to dreaming. The trail widened and flattened out as we reached open meadows. This meant the river crossing was near and I was far too excited to share this experience with Rui. He wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as me to run through the iced cold water. It was about 7:30pm, sunset. I guess he had a point that cold feet with no sun isn’t the best mix. But we had no choice!

I went first and showed him how much fun it was. I ran through as fast as possible. It seemed to have got deeper than four hours ago and I had forgotten there were two parts to it. The second part, even deeper. What a great way to stay alert!

A couple of girls were running alongside us. The pacer of their group had a radio hanging off her backpack with M83 playing. I ribbed Rui for not having one of these as we ran into Twin Lakes with them, laughing as the music blared. I don’t know what Rui did, but I was feeling so much better after that stretch. I was ready for fresh clothes, some food and my next pacer, 49 years young, 2:41 marathoner, Frankie Bubble aka Francis.

Twin Lakes to Fish Hatchery (60.5 – 76.5)

I sat down and had a large choice of what to eat. Francis and Keila had gone off to buy me sandwiches from a deli (god knows where they found one!) Savory food items were something we did not factor for as much as we should have. Complex carbs with fat and protein. This was ideal food to put on some weight while not spiking my blood glucose. I grabbed a grilled cheese sandwich and some chips as roadies. The one definite savory item that was working for me provided by the aid stations was the Ramen soup with noodles and crushed crackers. Never try something new in a race. Screw it. 100 miles was new and it was working out just fine, the same way I borrowed Francis’s jacket over Hope Pass.

After 60 miles and more importantly, two river crossings it was also time for a wardrobe change. Off came the shoes and compression socks. I looked for blisters although I felt confident this wasn’t that necessary a procedure as my feet felt pretty good. I found about five, oh the power of adrenaline! I slapped on Vaseline, put on new socks and a fresh pair of Cascadia’s. This pair actually belonged to Francis, another late decision. We realized how little give the trail road gave from our Thursday shake out run and my own spare shoes; Brooks Pure Grit (a light weight trail shoe) and Brooks Ghosts (a neutral road shoe) wouldn’t be as suitable. Thank god we were both 11.5!

I changed leukaemia T-shirts, threw on my long sleeve Brooks top and my thin weatherproof Brooks jacket. Lastly, on went the wooly hat and the headlamp. I didn’t think I would need this until the end of this section but it was getting slowly getting dark. Off we went saying goodbye to my parents, Rui and Keila.

Couple of night owls about to knock out 16 miles

This 16 mile section was known as being the most runnable but first we had to climb. I told Francis a statistic I remembered about the race. If you make it out of Twin Lakes inbound, you finish the race. Hope Pass was over with. If he was worried about my mental state, he needn’t of as I confidently told him that. I felt like I was back in the game and the sub-25 buckle was still very much a tangible goal.

I had forgotten that this ascending section was quite long before I could try to run. The plan was to knock out 16/min miles for 10 miles (to Half Pipe aid) and then 14’s into Fish which was flat for 6 miles. My blood glucose was hovering around the 200’s and my caloric intake was still not hitting 500 calories between aid stations but my stomach was trying its best to understand what I was trying to get done out here!

We hit double track trail which was great news. We could run side by side on a track each. We could run! And run we did, at least that’s what it felt like to me in the pitch black with our two headlamps and a flashlight to guide us. I drank a lot more here. Why did i start to drink more now? Probably because it was flatter terrain, I was running and I knew I needed to put on weight for the dreaded next weigh in, especially as I was still under-eating. That had to be at Fish Hatchery.

We arrived at the aid station feeling good, looking good, talking all the way there. Half Pipe sure was a busy Saturday night hang out for the middle of nowhere. Lots of runners looked far too happy to be sitting down and chilling for my liking. I said to Francis, let’s make this a quick stop. I chugged two cups of water, grabbed some fruit and Ramen soup. Maybe Ramen soup will sponsor me for my next 100? That’s right, I was definitely not in a “never again” kind of mood, this was fun, this was what I had trained so hard for over the last six months.

Off we went for 5.6 miles of runnable miles to go. Francis kept encouraging me by telling me the average pace was dropping quickly and we were heading towards the planned pace for the section. We passed through a crew section which was pretty lively. We didn’t use it for Team England and I was glad. My crew needed some sleep and me and Francis were having a grand old-time anyway.

The dirt path road turned a corner and we saw car lights in the distance. It was route 24, the main spine road through Leadville that crew cars had been using to hit up all of the aid stations. Then we saw closer car lights and I knew that was the asphalt road that led me 2 miles into Fish Hatchery. I went for another sip of water from my bladder. It was mostly air.

Rather than waste time and pour water from Francis’s bladder to mine, we adopted the scuba diving ‘buddy breathing‘. He tucked me under his wing as I took water from his mouthpiece whenever I needed it. We had a good laugh at how ridiculous this looked yet no one was actually around to witness it.

Next came the realization I was still wasn’t eating enough food for the weight watchers medics eagerly waiting for me. I ate the second half of the grilled cheese sandwich and some chocolate. This was the plan. Eat and definitely don’t pee in the last miles coming into Fish. I was also now adopting Francis’s warmer jacket as a fourth layer over my backpack. Apart from a water bottle sticking out of my chest, it would take an eagle-eyed medic to realize I was wearing my backpack under the jacket (the crazy ideas you think of at midnight!). I also had on my hat, headlamp and two pairs of gloves. After all I was in the Rockies!

We heard some wild Texas music up ahead. Wow, the aid station is pumping out some Cotton-eye Joe pretty hard we thought. Then we realized it was two southern dudes doing their thing to motivate the runner. We had buddy breathing and ideas to cheat the scales, they had cowboy music. Two different ways to pass the time and entertain ourselves!

Twin Lakes aid station: but where were the dreaded scales?

We ran into the aid station. The pros had all finished and I’m sure a boatload had not returned from Winfield either due to time cut offs or pure exhaustion. I ran into the food area alone. Frankie had done his shift and done it awesomely. I looked for the dreaded scales left and right. Nowhere. I walked ahead. Nothing. Should I ask someone? By the time I considered that I was out of the aid station and back with Francis, Rui and Keila ready for her night shift. No weigh-in, after all that deceiving and well thought out plan!

Fish Hatchery to May Queen (76.5 to 86.5)

My feet felt fine. No need to address them or change shoes. We filled my empty water bladder back up to the max 50oz, reloaded the hand-held with Gatorade and tried to eat a granola bar and some fruit. From the calculations we had done, if this could be a slightly faster than planned 10 miles, Rui would have the chance to whip me back to the finish in sub-25. We all believed it was on.

Keila and I walked out of Fish Hatchery shortly before 1am.  I was eating (nibbling) and needed time to digest it but unfortunately I now had an even more painful area to deal with than my stomach. I was chaffing in my groin really bad. I know, not pleasant reading. Trust me, it was far more uncomfortable trying to knock out the last 23 miles in the discomfort. I had  been adding Vaseline at every aid station all day and night but for whatever the reason, my body and my Salomon compression shorts were not getting along down there. I’ll leave it at that.

The road rolled up and down, to the right and then dipped left onto a dirt path. This was all very runnable stuff but I wasn’t running now. I just walked it as fast as possible towards the start of pipeline climb to the peak of Sugarloaf Pass. I knew the climb would be slow and grueling so I justified that walking towards it would converse what little energy I had left for the long climb. Neither Keila or myself knew the exact distance, we just knew it had several false summits.

The first section was straight up for one mile. We saw a spectacular view of headlamps ahead of us. From memory, this climb then turned left and kept bending around the mountain for at least another two miles. Just like Hope Pass, I told Keila this wasn’t the time to focus on the average pace plan for the ten-mile stretch. This was about what pace could I go without having to stop.

The pace was good. The path up was very smooth if you discounted the huge cracks we kept jumping over in the trail where water must gush down at a frenetic pace during thunderstorms up here. We were however lucky with the lack of rain for the race. The straight up section was done in no time. After two more miles, I found I was only being passed by runners/pacers with trekking poles. I have to admit, I’m not a big fan of these accessories in ‘running’ events. Did they work? Absolutely. We’re they anything to do with running? Absolutely not. I asked a guy who seemed experienced (yes he had trekking poles!) how much further until we hit the summit? He confidently said one mile.

One mile later I was still disappointed that it wasn’t the top. People with trekking poles are also liars!  Keila felt my frustration as I would say “this is definitely it” for the umpteenth time. I wish I never had asked anyone. I wish I had said at the bottom it was at least 5 miles of climbing and then I wouldn’t have got myself into this emotional mess of false summits. I was warned but the newbie in me didn’t listen or research this section enough.

Finally, we made the top. It was now freezing. I still had my two pairs of gloves on and four layers so felt warm enough however. This was now the time I had been waiting for to descend the remaining miles into May Queen. I had told Keila “don’t you worry, when we get to the top of this, we are going to run all the way down to the aid station”. The words were positive but somewhere over Sugarloaf Pass, I let my brain do some more calculations. Even if I could have run down this section, I would have needed a sub-2 hour half marathon finish to get the bigger belt buckle; the under 25 hour finish. Francis had told me earlier that it helps to be really, really stupid in these races, meaning don’t think, just do.

Unfortunately for me, my brain would not shut down. I had run over 80 miles and I was still alert, still calculating, still not being sick! But atop Sugarloaf, my brain told my legs, forget it, that big buckle is not happening, not this time anyway. My legs went into complete sleep mode and would not run. I wanted to, I wanted to so bad but their was nothing. I knew I was going to finish, even if I just walked in. I think i also and knew that if I had tried to run in for the last 18 miles to a sub-25, I risked a very high chance ending up in hospital for a long time. So, I was  caught between two not very appealing options and dragged ass to finish in that huge five-hour window.

We walked and talked all the way downhill on very runnable road to single track to road where a row of cars were parked just before May Queen. We almost kept on going but then realized one of the cars was Team England! It was 4am and it was now the coldest part of the race so far. Sorry Keila, I gave you ten miles of walking but you sure helped me keep moving all the way.

May Queen to Finish (86.5 – 100)

Francis had the chair ready by the side of the car and was open for business! “What do you need Stevie?” I probably muttered something sarcastic like “to finish this race”. Rui was bundled up  head to toe. This was August 19th right? My Mum also looked unrecognizable in numerous layers shaking her hands. This wasn’t triumphant shaking, this was freezing shaking. I pleaded with her to get in the car which Keila had already done to get warm where the heat was on full blast. She finally listened to my advice. Looking back at this scene now reminds me how much determination and positive energy I had the whole time. We got a great tip from Gary Brimmer the day before the race; don’t let him (me) see the car ever. We liked it. We also didn’t use it and it never crossed my mind even for a spilt second to jump in the warm car and call it quits. I had six hours to complete a half marathon and therefore complete my first 100 miler in Leadville, the highest ultra marathon in the States. You could have shown me a warm bed, a shortcut, a free pass to the finish line. Would not have made a difference. I was going the way I came and Rui was going to get me there, absolutely no question.

May Queen aid station at 4am

Off we marched down the road into May Queen aid station. Again, it was jam-packed. Runners camping out trying to get warm, taking their time, some contemplating if they would ever get going again. I wanted something hot unsurprisingly. I said to Rui I wanted Ramen soup and a cup of cocoa. He advised against this combination so I changed up the menu and just went for the cocoa. A nice hot roadie with enough sugar to keep me from having any hypo problems. We broke this last section into two. 7 miles of single track along Turquoise Lake until we would see Francis again at the boat basin (a crew area).

This stretch was my real low point. The sub-25 game had long gone as we walked the trail by the lake. What I remembered as easy trail running on the outbound had now become a really hilly and technical section. I started to get dizzy and told Rui to slow down (he was going as slow as possible) in case I passed out. I tried to munch on some potato chips and sip water as this was the best cure. It worked but then repeated itself every few hundred yards. I think we knocked out those seven miles at about 25/minute per mile. Sounds impossible right? I guess I like making the impossible possible but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind! Rui told me I looked like Iron Man. I corrected him and said I was Ultra Man! The humor didn’t last long. When I saw a face in a rock I knew I needed to wake up fast. I guess after 25 hours I had finally become tired.

Sunrise over Turquoise Lake: Amazing, although I don’t think I appreciated its beauty as much in the moment!

Just as I had told Keila earlier, I told Rui as soon as we get beyond Boat Basin, the trail flattens out and the road widens up to the finish. I promised him I would get faster. I felt this huge amount of guilt that he was having to go so slow in such cold conditions when only hours before we were two kids flying down Hope Pass at 8:30 pace.

Before I could start thinking too much about how far Boat Basin was, Francis appeared on the trail. What a great sight! The car and that comfy chair couldn’t be far away. We high-fived and kept walking. Only a handful of spectators were siting outside by the lake watching the sunrise. My Mum and Keila were passed out in the car but Francis had it all under full control. I needed more Vaseline I exclaimed! I sat in the chair for a while with the throw over me to try to get warmer. My sugar was over 200 but I didn’t care. Better than dealing with a hypo at this stage of the game. Runners were passing through slowly. I noticed that none of them looked cold. They also had less layers on than me. That was it. To hell with all these layers! I took off my track suit pants, gloves and one of the jackets. If I was cold now, I would just to have to move faster!

We left and immediately walked at a really brisk pace. It was probably around 15/min miles. Rui said “We are going to walk like bad asses all the way into the finish line and take back some places that belonged to me!” A random woman sitting right there said “Hell yeah!” We had no clue she was there but were amused she was a ‘fly on the wall’ to our crazy army talk!

Off we went. The first few steps were so excruciating, I cannot find clean enough words to describe the pain. But as soon as I got into astride, the pain numbed (slightly). It sure felt better going faster than 25/minute miles. I hadn’t gone this fast since running into Twin Lakes over 17 miles ago. We marched down a dirt road as the sun kept rising. We were passing people. One guy, then another, then one more appeared. The best part about this was they were still in running motion, we were power walking and it was no contest.

Rui knew it was 3.5 miles of gradual uphill to the finish. I had forgotten this part completely. He told me to swing my arms as if I was running while maintaining the brisk walking technique. Who was this guy? An English teacher or a marine? Our pace went from 15/min miles to 12:15’s with this technique! More people were passed.

Turquoise Lake at 6:30am. Who needs sleep with views like this?!

This wasn’t to say it was easy. Far from it. I was real beat up doing this but happier than dragging ass into the finish. He had a game plan and I trusted him with my life. Occasionally Rui would ask the random spectator the actual time. His plan was foiled when one person responded “You can break 28 if you keep going like that”. I liked his plan, until he told me we would need to run the last mile. The last mile was 2/3 uphill and he wanted me to run it?! Would have been so easy, if only I hadn’t run about 104 before it!!

He firmly shouted “Go!” and we started running. Another runner said “You’ve got plenty of time” referring to the 30 hour limit. He obviously didn’t have a Rui pacing him home! After 100 yards of running though, I stopped and went back to walking hoping Rui wouldn’t notice. He turned and said “Come on!”. For one of the rarest times in my life I said the words I hate most “I can’t”. He didn’t let up and said it again and again. “Rui, you know me, right? If I could I would but I just can’t. Sub-28, 28 and change. It’s the same thing. Let me enjoy the final mile rather than kill myself. Their will be other times.” He sighed and gave in to my plea, maybe because I implied this wasn’t going to be a one and done 100 mile show. But what a pacer. This guy had never paced anyone before and here he was with these techniques and motivational words all the way home. 4 hours to cover 13 miles. I owe you lots of pacing brother!

We met Francis and Keila with about 3/4 mile to go on E 6th Street. I whipped off my backpack, jacket and top. I had to showcase the leukaemia T-shirt for the final stretch. Their was no need to run anymore  but I instinctively did anyway. I ran that 3/4 mile as hard as I could with my three amazing pacers alongside me.

6 months of training and 100 miles comes to an end. What a journey!

At just after 8am, I stepped onto the famous red carpet and broke the tape, a nice touch the organizers do for all official finishers. My eyes swelled with tears as I sent a little prayer up to heaven to my uncle. 28 hours and 2 minutes. I received my medal from a woman I recognized from the Leadville Race Series store. We hugged as if we knew each other for years, not two days. Then  I was surrounded by my pacers for high fives, big smiles and more hugs and then my Mum which was such a special moment. We didn’t say much but I’m sure we were both thinking of what I had achieved in honor of Uncle Dave. Medics took me into a tent for a mandatory check up and weigh in. I was up 2lbs from Winfield, must have been all that buddy breathing with Frankie!

Post-race with the best pacers anyone could wish for!

I left the finish area staggering out. Moments earlier I had just run across the finish line but now my body was in complete shut down. The brain is so powerful, its scary. I found a space on a bench and dumped myself onto it guzzling cold water next to Rui who looked as beat as me. He had run a marathon in total and not eaten or slept well for a long time either. That’s the thing about crewing/pacing, you are as tired as the runner and I fully appreciated that and everyone’s commitment. I did my post-race blood test; 178, OK, great. No need for any sugar or insulin, my brain could shut down. Francis got the car and we drove back to the hotel. Although it was only half a mile away I still managed to fall asleep during the ride! I got carried up the stairs to the room and I crawled into bed, fully clothed. Out cold with a smile on my face. Finishing is winning? Darn right, especially in Leadville.

Now that it’s all done and dusted, I’ve had lots of my friends ask “What was the worst part about it?” That’s a pretty negative question and my answer is relatively short. If they were to ask me “What was the best part?”, they would have heard what you just have read. Everything about it was the best part. From the training, the leukaemia fundraising, the build up races, the research, my friends and parents coming out to Leadville and of course finishing it. My place was 169 out of 364 finishers. A very low 45% completion rate. Those numbers make me feel proud, I’m forever part of the Leadville family as are my parents, Rui, Francis and Keila.

What a journey. Leadville is in my heart forever just like my hero and inspiration, my brave Uncle Dave.

Race Report: Leadville Trail 100 (Outbound)

The alarm was 2:30, the hours of sleep I had just had was about 3 and the race of my life was starting at 4. This was the start of crunching numbers over the next 28 hours from time of day, mile pace, glucose, carbohydrates, calories, elevation and distance. The hardest, longest biggest running test of my life was literally about to begin.

LT100 Elevation Profile

Sub-24 LT100 plan. Arguably more thorough than German engineering.

The plan I had prepared for my crew and pacers for times I would be at various aid stations, pace, distance etc. wasn’t likely to stick over 100 miles. That strict German like statistical plan had its first change as early as 2:17am. My body clock alarm knew beat than the electronic one. The BlackBerry didn’t get a chance to pump out its merry tune at me and my three peacefully sleeping pacers; Rui, Francis and Keila.
I showered and came back to the bedroom with all lights on and Chariots of Fire playing. These pacers sure knew how to get me going! I put on my gear (next track Rocky) making sure not to have anything loose in my feet, socks or Brooks Cascadia trail shoes. Yes, that much detail was needed to have a successful race. I wore my compression shorts with my Brooks shorts over, where my bib number 260 proudly showed*

Uncle Dave was an avid hiker before his cancer. Leadville seemed a fitting tribute to him and his courageous battle.

*Something I have not mentioned on rundiabetes before is my charity work I have done for Leukemia and Lymphoma Research, for my Uncle Dave’s favorite charity. He had been fighting this cancer for 8-1/2 years and my family sadly lost him shortly after his 60th birthday earlier this year. What was to be one of his final goals in life was to reach that huge birthday milestone and celebrate it with Aunty Rosie and my cousin Graham. Being given that numbe “2-60” by race organizer, Shannon Gipson, let me pay him the respect he deserves, my hero, my inspiration. He would be with me every step of the way on this journey even more so now.  If you care to, my sponsorship page is still taking donations: http://www.justgiving.com/Stephen-England-100-for-Uncle-Dave
I went down to the hotel breakfast with the gang at 3am. We all ate and shared small talk and jokes like nothing big was about to happen. I wasn’t nervous, I was ready. This was it. They drove me the 1/2 mile down Harrison Avenue to the start line on E 6th Street with about 15 minutes to go. Any longer hanging around there and I knew I would just get cold and impatient.

15 minutes to go with Keila and Frankie seeing me off!

On top I had my Leukaemia T-shirt with Brooks arm warmers, long sleeve top and rain jacket, new Leadville wooly hat with headlamp and my backpack with its 50oz water bladder and 20oz of Gatorade in my water bottle with blood tester in zip-lock close by, food supplies and salt tablets. This was ultimate business mode. Not one thing had been forgotten. Well, OK, so I did forget to bring my gloves to the start but let’s forget that! Frankie’s offer of using his socks as gloves was very kind but I turned him down. I decided it would get warm quickly and it wasn’t freezing cold, I think about 45 degrees.
Start to May Queen (0-13.5)

4am start line – 802 runners raring to go!

Final blood glucose check before the race; 210. Perfect. My basal rate was set to -70%. I would check blood glucose every hour of the race and consume at least one S!Cap salt capsule (more if my legs cramped and when the sun would be out later on).

The US anthem blared, the gun was fired and we were finally off heading west out of Leadville towards Turquoise Lake. 11:24/min miles was the planned pace for this 13.5 mile section. I had never ran that pace ever before. I knew where mile 1 and 2 were from Thursday’s shake out run. All i neededto remember was, don’t go out too fast. 802 headlamps were shining down E 6th Street and then down a dirt path road. Everyone was talking and laughing. Everyone was buzzing! The view of headlamps from the middle of the pack was beautiful and inspiring, everyone here trying to finish this race for different reasons and different goals.  The reality of the race though was that only half would come back up this road. The statistics tell you from the previous 29 years of this second oldest 100 mile race, that only 42% will actually finish. The completion rate is the lowest in any 100 mile race.

Heading west down E 6th Street from the start line

The wide dirt path road took a sharp right and we went from runners to climbers up a steep single track trail. We got back on road and hit Turquoise Lake at about 6 miles, now back on single track around the perimeter where passing was not really an option. Probably a blessing in disguise. I looked up ahead and saw a line of bright headlamps lights stretching for over a mile. This image was simply breathtaking. On went the iPod shuffle. ‘Who Needs a Road’ by Signpost Sound. Not me. This was absolute heaven.

Running at Turquoise lake: an endless line of light

After another 7 miles of this huge lake, I entered May Queen aid station 4 minutes slower than my predicted time. That was pretty good as I was not using my Garmin’s GPS to tell me every fine detail. Why? The battery life of my watch is 6 hours, the course record is 15:42. Doesn’t work. It wasn’t so much that my pace was so true though, it had more to do with the fact I had 4 pit stops to do what bears do best in the woods! My stomach did not seem at all impressed with my pre-race Pizza Hut dinner.
I had so far eaten two granola bars and sipped on some Gatorade, approximately 500 calories in total. If I could maintain that caloric intake between aid stations for the whole race, I had a good chance of ‘keeping my stomach’ which basically means not throwing my guts up, a common occurrence in ultra running. One slight problem with my food intake plan though, my glucose results for 2, 3 and 4 hours were all 300+. Until I could bring that back down under 200, any food would just keeping pushing that number up and up and making me feel diabetic sick, let alone vomit sick.
I grabbed some water and some fruit and adjusted my insulin basal to +10%. I have never gone into the plus while exercising before so this was new territory but I had to get it lower so I could start eating. A 100 miles was a new experience as was controlling my glucose for it.
May Queen to Fish Hatchery (13.5 to 23.5)
After this short aid stop that also involved taking my shoes off to shake out a mini stone which would have otherwise caused a huge blister, I walked up a steep road while talking to a familiar face, Michelle, a hardcore ultra girl I had met at the Massanutten Mountain 100 race in May that I had paced Chris Solarz at. She only ran the toughest 100 mile races all with mountains but ironically lived in Florida! I asked if she was going to see her crew at Fish like myself. She said she didn’t have any crew or pacers for the whole thing! Some egotistical men in my shoes may have felt really small and weak at this point. Not me! I was feeling even more lucky to have Team England around, waiting for me down the road in ten miles. Hats off to Michelle though.
We climbed Sugarloaf Pass for about 5 miles as the sun rose over the mountains. The headlamp was long gone and stored in my backpack to hand off to my crew. The views were spectacular, a huge factor in why I chose this race to be my first 100. I knew later on in the race, these kind of views would serve the perfect distraction to my tired engine. Someone referred to this race as the devil due to its altitude a while back. I looked at it from a different perspective though. This was mountain running at its finest.

Asthmatic meets diabetic at 11,000ft. #mutual respect

I talked to a guy, Mike Poland, on the climb, at first about the course as I had overheard him earlier discussing it so I picked his brain on how long this climb was. He had completed it once in 23 hours so I knew I was going roughly the right pace for sub-24 although he had also not finished it three times. Yep, this was Leadville alright. A beautiful course but real tough too at no lower than 9000ft up to 12,600ft not once but twice.

The conversation shifted to health. He was 45 and I was impressed with his fitness. He reminded me of Francis in many ways and I talked about him to Mike. This was the first year Mike was taking on Leadville though with a new hurdle; asthma. My reaction was “what the hell are you doing here in mountain thin air?!” But then he saw me doing a blood test and we suddenly just realized we were just two peas in a pod who wouldn’t let anything stop us from achieving things we really wanted in life.
At the top of Sugarloaf I pushed on and descended 5 miles, a famous stretch called Powerline. It wasn’t famous for the descent though.  The return ascent to come in the dark is where most runners stagger up it like zombies, a real brutal section for later. I descended at a fairly quick pace clipping off quite a few places. The final stretch of downhill was in a straight line for over a mile with mini plateaus. So much fun.  A film crew was at the base using a camera on a panning tripod. I milked this moment for all it was worth, pointing to my ‘260’ bib while flying past hearing the shutter continuously open and close. I felt like a Leadville rock star except I had 80 more miles to go before getting too ahead of myself.

23.5 done and all smiles at Fish Hatchery

I ran along a road into Fish Hatchery and saw my pacers for the first time since the start, almost 5 hours ago. I had almost run a marathon at this point and was glad to see them. They asked me how was it going? What did I need? I wanted to sit down in the chair we had purchased and get a cold Coke on board as my sugar had just dropped to hypo level at 74 after being at 300+ for hours. Neither of those items were there. They were in the car. For whatever reason, we had our first error. Well, I forgot my gloves at the start so it was the second one I guess. I was annoyed but not too much. How could I be? My friends had flown in from Arizona and New York for me, woken up at 2:30, started playing Chariots of Fire and now here they were doing their very best to support me and help me complete this race. We borrowed a chair and I think Francis ran to the car to get a Coke. Problem resolved quickly. Great work team.
Fish Hatchery to Twin Lakes (23.5 – 39.5)

25% done with Hope Pass looming in the distance.

I pulled out of Fish back to some rare asphalt running. I remember thinking how hot it had quickly got. I was now in my lightest of clothing options with just my Leukaemia T-shirt, backpack, visor and Oakley shades up top. This was not a day to go shirtless with backpack combo. Chaffing was already becoming a slight concern down south. The crew car unexpectedly pulled alongside me and gave me some cheers and then completely unplanned, pulled to the side of the road and got ready to greet me again. Great, I thought. I can now get more sugary food in case I go low again (something I should have done at Fish).

An improv pit stop with the crew

I did another blood test before grabbing any food as I had just been low. I was now 236. Wow, good job i checked. I had shot up so quickly. Scrap anymore simple carbohydrates! I readjusted my basal % once more and kept going.
The road swept right and went on for at least another mile. I thought at this point, thank god I was not running the New York 100 that Keila did which was all on this stuff. I saw my pal, Gary Brimmer from Brooks (crewing for another runner) who checked in on me. “Anyone told you that they love you yet today?” I was a bit taken back by ex-army tough guy Gary’s approach! I mumbled a no. “I love you” said Gary as he slapped me on the back. What a great feeling that was, probably why he is a coach!
I re-entered the trail towards the woods leading to Half Pipe. This became the music mile. What am I talking about? I passed a guy who without any introduction exclaimed to me “Dude, I’m listening to Vanilla Ice!!” I said I couldn’t compete with such a class act, I had on 30 Seconds to Mars and gave him a well deserved high-five. I found this moment so funny and random that I then asked a lady I was passing what she was listening too. She had no idea who she was listening too! I helped her out and informed her it was Red Hot Chili Peppers. She defended that her son had made the playlist for her. What a cool mom tearing up the LT100, I bet her son was proud of her! As nice as she was and after losing round 1, I had to inform her that I had Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” which trumped RHCP. We laughed about it and cracked on!
This was typical small talk between runners on the outbound journey. Most of us had crew/pacers but in between those aid stations, we socialized with other runners making new friends along the way. They were anything but competitors. The course was enough competition. They were companions sharing the road.
I ran through Half Pipe aid station (a small no crew and fluids only stop) and kept going at a nice pace on a flattish dirt path for miles. The last few miles turned into descending switchbacks on single track and dirt path. I passed Jason Friedman from NJ, the guy who beat me by half a mile at Running with the Devil. He didn’t look too hot and said so himself. Twin Lakes became visible as two small lakes but these quickly became much bigger as the descent continued.
As I was behind my sub-24 pace after Fish, I used this downhill section to gain some time back. A bit too much though as i took a lovely spill here. I was passing several runners and shouting “on your left” meaning they should get the hell to the right ASAP! Two runners were side by side as I approached looking for my gap through when down I went, hard on my right hand and elbow. I got up pretty quickly as these guys were probably thinking, what are you doing going so fast! I brushed myself off and kept going. I did a quick check and saw I had nice layer of skin missing from my hand and elbow. I tried to wipe the blood off on my shorts but accidentally got it on my bib instead. I looked at the bib and couldn’t help to raise a smile up to the sky. My 260 bib was now blood, sweat and tears. How very fitting I said in my head to my uncle.

Roaring into Twin Lakes aid station in front of Team England!

I came down one final steep hill to roars of cheers from the Twin Lakes crowd. Loudest of course was Team England. My parents were now there with my pacers all wearing their Leukaemia T-shirts and waving Union flags (Frankie tells me it is only called a Union Jack flag when it is on the back of a boat. I believe him!) What an absolutely awesome reception! I told them I made some noise back there referring to gaining time back, flying the descents as I love to do. Their may have been an f bomb in that sentence too, which for once my parents didn’t call me out on. This time, the chair was there as well as all the food and clothes choices. The team was working better than a professional pit lane crew!
My blood sugars had been around 100 for this last 16 miles. I continued to snack on granola bars and Gatorade through that section. My blood glucose at Twin Lakes was 177. More cheers from Team England! It was so pleasurable to see my friends understand what my blood sugars meant. Cheers when they were good, ask what they could do when they were too high or too low. They were definitely understanding diabetes at a fast pace. I took down a Coke and some mini burritos. The key was to get me eating as much real food as possible before my stomach would shut down.
Twin Lakes – Winfield (39.5 – 50)

Rui giving me the pre-Hope Pass pep talk

After 7 of my planned 10 minutes break I was up and going again. The hardest part of the course was coming up. You couldn’t really miss it. Hope Pass mountain was 3,400ft above me standing at 12,600ft above sea level higher than treeline aka where there’s not very much oxygen. Rui walked me out of the aid station and I said to him, “see you in 3” referring to the planned hours it would take me to ascend and descend Hope into Winfield where he would jump in and starting pacing me back home.
I ran through green meadows looking straight up, not worried or imitated by Hope Pass, just intrigued by how hard this was actually going to be and how good the views were going to get!  I passed Tom and Casey, crew for the Team Type 1 athletes, Ryan and Jon. I had just met them officially the day prior and was surprised when they asked me if I needed anything which was super nice. More about Team Type 1 another time, but its exciting news worthy of its own blog.

Ice cold Colorado river crossing – I didn’t need waking up mind, I was so ready to climb Hope Pass!

I soon heard the running water of the river. The first river crossing was about to happen. I had read that the river can be waist deep after heavy winters. Not so, this year. It was just below the knee but ice-cold as it should be. I didn’t take any huge risks here as i held on to the rope as i crossed quickly. Such fun! My shoes were now double the weight. I knew the sun would dry them off in no time so there was no need to worry about blisters or cold feet. It was refreshing. Good thing too, I was about to climb and climb hard.

I turned right onto a single track in the woods where the climb officially began. My planned pace on my wristband was irrelevant. I knew the only way to tackle this was for me to take it up at an honest pace that I could maintain the whole way. At first we climbed some switchbacks and along the river once more that only the runners would get to see. It seemed like a secret place as you would never know or imagine this was here by looking at Hope Pass from far away.

Hope Pass; 3,400ft in 3.5 miles

The grade got steeper and didn’t let up, some times with my heels without a chance of touching down before the next step forward. Forward relentless progress I kept telling myself. If I was moving, I was doing enough. Without much warning Anton Krupicka and his pacer Dakota Jones bombed down the mountain in the lead of the race. I gave him a shout as clearly he knew me now after we had met for 5 minutes yesterday at Safeway car park! He actually did give me a shout back. Maybe Scott Jurek had told him to give me some encouragement when he saw me?! Next came Team Salomon’s Thomas Lorblanchet and pacer Anna Frost, who i personally believe is the best female ultra runner around right now. They were about 7-8 minutes behind. A few of us started talking about the leaders. Would Anton win? Where was Nick Clark? It was so exciting. I was watching one of the biggest 100 mile races unfold in front of my eyes. Hang on a minute…I was in this race! Focus!
After about 2 miles, we started climbing through open sections so I knew the treeline was close and then there it was, open space ahead towards half a dozen tents, the Hope Pass aid station. At this point, I was the front engine of about seven runners working as a unit up Hope Pass. It was great teamwork. As for the aid station, I was expecting a small table and a few gallons of water. It was so much better. Volunteers ran towards us and asked what we wanted in our water bottles. I was tempted to ask for oxygen but went for the more reasonable request of water from a kid who took my number and flew back up the mountain to refill it and return in less than a minute. I joked to him it was better than service at the Ritz-Carlton. I’m pretty sure he didn’t get it or just thought I wasn’t funny. I have had time to reflect on my joke and now firmly believe it was the latter.
We passed llamas hanging out on the open fields. I peeked into the tent where several runners were slouched on seats taking a break, eating soup or worst of all throwing up. Their stomachs were already giving out at mile 44 ish??! I didn’t spend much time looking at that image. This was not from an unconcerned perspective, they were in good hands from medics, I just didn’t want to see any negative stuff to put me off my game.

The view north from 12,600ft – I had just run 45 miles to get here

From this aid point, I knew it was just a half mile more to the top of Hope Pass; 12,6000ft. Single track all the way. You could see the route as runners were spread out zig zagging up over the switchbacks, some hiking, some hands on knees exhausted. My train carriages had all departed for soup and chairs at the aid station but I was on the express track. I kept the pace going, I stuck to my plan. I think it was about a 2 hour climb, I try to forget even now sitting at home typing this. Whatever it took, the views were worth it. I turned back as I remember reading as a ‘must do’ and saw just how small Twin Lakes now looked and even further away, how small Turquoise Lake looked. Yep, I had come all this way on two feet and so far it felt great. No time to hang around though, the wind was blowing hard and the temperature was about 30 degrees less than Twin Lakes.

Loving the Hope Pass descent!

As was becoming the norm, I descended the back of Hope swiftly except when going over huge rocks that were part of a mountain landslides and when the grade just became too steep to stay in control. I knew this side would be steeper coming back up and their was the proof. When I put the brakes on downhill, it’s steep. A small group of guys at a bridge crossing at the bottom said “just down here to Winfield.” OK, great news chaps, I thought.

In previous years, the course took you onto a dirt road here for 1.5 miles into Winfield. This year, they made a last-minute course change that was confirmed at the pre-race meeting; a single track trail into Winfield to avoid runners and cars sharing the road. Rumors flew around that this  had extended the course between 1.5-3 miles in each direction. The crowd cheered when this news was confirmed. Being a “newbie” to the Leadville family I had no idea if this was good or bad but took it as good news as the majority cheered.
From post-race research, I found out it was an extension of 2.5 miles in each direction making the course about 105 miles. I would have taken car dust over 5 more miles any day but I’m sure my new buddy Mike Poland disagrees! The trail at one point gave a good view of Winfield aid station with the car pack absolutely packed. All I cared about was seeing it, knowing I was so now close to the halfway point. Oh no, no, no, not so fast newbie! This new trail section went past the aid station and looped around for another mile or so. What a head spinner!

The new section; single track trail into Winfield

I started asking inbound runners who were sharing the trail (the course is out and back) how far was it to go. Some said 1 mile, others said 2. It was pointless, just keep going, then you would know, I said to myself. I finally saw some people sane enough to not be runners so I knew it was close..ish. One female spectator shouted “finishing is winning”. I thought it was cute, but not my game plan.
I saw Ryan Jones from Team Type 1 walking up the road with Tom and Casey. We shared a quick exchange. He wasn’t feeling too hot and I said that Hope had taking me longer than I thought plus the trail sucked for being long. He agreed and said he was shooting for a 27-28 hour finish. I responded saying, I guess now is a good time to give up on my sub-24 plan then? We all laughed and realized our race expectations were quickly turning into the ‘let’s just finish in the allotted time’ plan. The race was definitely starting to hurt now, especially my stomach and I couldn’t help but think the spectator who just shouted “finishing is winning” was pretty close to the truth.
At the same section I also bumped into Brooks ID ultra runner Shannon Price pacing his friend for the entire back 50! We have been Facebook friends for years cheering each other on but had never met until that moment. It was nice seeing all these people I knew from my crew, Team Type 1 guys and Brooks ID friends.  The respect between runner to runner and between runner to spectator was incredible. You knew you were part of something really special.

Time for a break. 50 miles and my stomach wasn’t so happy.

I recall Christopher McDougall talking about his Leadville experience in New York in a not so positive light. He was so relieved to be told he had NOT made the cut off time to keep going when he hit Winfield!
I rolled into Winfield aid an hour behind my plan at 11:47. I got weighed to make sure I wasn’t dangerously over weight (from over hydration) or under weight (from lack of fluids/foods). I had dropped 7lbs. If only I was on America’s Biggest Loser instead of halfway through Leadville 100, this would have been really good news. The medical staff had every right to keep me under their watch until I had put back on some weight. If I had lost double this, the worst scenario would have come into play and they would have had the right to pull me out of the race. I didn’t spend much time thinking about that scenario! The medics gave me a look that said eat more, or you’re going to get in trouble. I went over to my crew like a naughty school boy and told them all about my weight issues!
I slumped into the chair, now a little depressed for the first time. It wasn’t the loss of weight though, being tired or doubting myself to finish. It was the fact I was now an hour behind my goal plan of a sub-24 finish and I knew it was gone.  My glucose was however on the money at 158 so that brought some good news back my way. Everyone knew how important it was for me to eat real food with lots of fat to get the weight back on. My stomach was knotting up and I overheard Keila saying “he will lose his stomach real soon”. Great, just what I didn’t need. Throwing up all over the mountains while trying to run 50+ miles back to Leadville. This was a real low point for me and I was so pleased I had pacers all the way home. I ditched the iPod shuffle, I now had my brother Rui for company up and down the Hope Pass return. I ate some Ramen soup with noodles and crackers and some cheese. I couldn’t take much down though, my stomach was fighting me. After a long rest stop it was time to get this thing going again. As Ken Chlouber’s son, Cole said in the pre-race pep talk, it was now time to do it all over again. I looked at Rui with eyes that said “Let’s roll”.

Nutrition Plan for Leadville Trail 100

The race of my life is less than 9 days away. As I pack my bag ready to head west, I put together what appears to be a small candy store. You see, 100 mile races have been tongue in cheek called “food eating contests that involve some running”. If there is no fuel, there can be no fire. The good news? I like to eat a lot! Saying this, I’ve just never tried to eat so much while running up and down mountains for a very very long time.

The Nutrition Experiment has been in effect since I began ultrarunning a year ago

I have learnt how to manage my glucose control for every day easy training runs, speed workouts, marathon races and beyond. Most have been successful but even I have had my fair share of hypo’s and hyperglycemia experiences. During Running with the Devil in July, I was able to record my glucose on a regular basis (every 5K loop) for the first time. If I exclude my early low of 62 after 3 miles, my glucose range over 12 hours of running was really between 110-180. That’s great numbers and something I hope to repeat in Leadville.

I did this by consuming about 60 grams of simple carbohydrate per hour. It is therefore an easy calculation for me to consume 1 gram of carbohydrates per 1 minute. What I got away with at Devil, I will not get away with at Leadville though; I really didn’t consume much ‘real food’. I need to make sure I consume complex carbohydrate, fat and protein foods as much as possible before my stomach shuts down in the race. It will happen. My guess is around mile 60 onwards! But it really is just that, a guess. So, here’s what’s on the food menu with approximate grams of carbohydrates for August 18-19;

Chicken burrito 80g

Haribo cola bottles 75g

Pizza slice 45g

Grilled cheese sandwich 40g

Pro Bar food bar 48g

Powerbar Energy Blasts 45g

Clif Sports Bar 42g

Coca-Cola 39g

M & M’s 34g

Gatorade 20oz 30g

Honey Stinger gel 29g

Jelly Belly Sport Beans 25g

Clif Crunch granola bar 25g

Pineapple slice 7g

Watermelon slice 5g

Orange quarter 3g

Gatorade and Coke are foods! If any liquid contains carbohydrates, that’s food to any diabetic athlete I know. Talking of liquid, I need to try and consume 40-60oz of water per hour (Scott Jurek says 80oz but that is tough!). Whatever ounces amount I consume in Gatorade/Coke per hour, the remainder will be water. My goal is to consume at least half a water bottle (10 oz) of Gatorade per hour (15g carbs). The remaining 30-50oz will come from water. When I need more sugar and caffeine, the famous Coke cans of ultra running will come in. A 12oz can is 39g carbs.

No pretzels, chips or salty bar snacks; I’ve tried them before, most notably at JFK 50 Miler last year where I cramped up and lost a ton of time. Personally, they take a long time to digest and have since been experimenting with salt capsules.  My weapon of choice is S!Caps; 315mg sodium and 80g potassium goodness! I throw down at least 2 per hour running. In the short period of time, I have been using them I have not cramped up yet with this formula and I can thank one of my pacers, Francis Laros for giving me a few to sample first. He is my dealer!

The key to my nutrition plan revolves around blood tests. Obviously, if my blood glucose is above 200, I’m not going to take as much carbohydrates and if it drops into double digits, I may increase my carbohydrates to 100g over that one hour period and reduce my basal. The game plan as determined by Naomi Berrie Diabetes Center is to stay in the 160-200 glucose range. Consistent testing will be key and I will test every hour and make the necessary adjustments. When my brain shuts down during the second half of the race, I will rely on my crew (my parents) and my three awesome friends working as pacers; Francis Laros, Rui Guimaraes and Keila Merino, to keep my “food eating contest” on track, to help test my blood glucose regularly and to ultimately keep me going forward. My team will be registered nurses by the time we finish. I sincerely hope I can write about no hypos or hyperglycemia episodes in my race report to come. Watch this space.

LT100 Training – 12 hrs Running with the Devil

With just 4 weeks to go until Leadville Trail 100, my phase #2 training plan called for the second 50 mile effort. Without getting on a plane to head west to Colorado, Utah or Wyoming, the most local race with hills was in Vernon, New Jersey. ‘Running with the Devil’ is in fact not a 50 mile race but a 12-hour timed race up and down mountain ski slopes on a 5K loop. See how far you can run in the alloted time. Last year’s winning time was 50.1 miles so I set my goal as just that.

Elevation changes of the 5K loop are extreme allowing little time for “normal” running

To 99% of the world, this seems like well…Running with the Devil. The 1100 foot ascent in 1.5 miles followed by the same elevation drop right back to the start made me fully aware this race was going to be as much mental as physical with the easiness to quit coming every 5K. This was perfect. It would be the longest time running for me no matter the distance covered by almost three hours (Bear Mountain 50 Miler; 9:13).

“Running is simple as it requires just a pair of shoes”….unless you’re running with the devil!

Friday night was spent packing endless food and diabetes supplies, spare shoes, spare socks, spare everything. I had hardly calmed down enough for bed when the alarm woke me at 3 am. I picked up Rui Guimaraes, my running brother and soon to be awesome Leadville pacer. He was tackling the 6-hour version. Nothing wrong with that, this race is hardcore and he is still dipping his feet in the ultra/trail running scene.  We headed through the Vanilla Sky like streets of Manhattan and out of the Lincoln Tunnel into New Jersey.

We arrived at Mountain Creek Ski Lodge in plenty of time ready for the 6 am start. After my very early breakfast (bagel and bananas) my blood glucose sat at 160; all good. The goal was to keep it there for the next 12 hours. Race director,  Rick McNulty, sported an appropriate polka dot jersey and gave us the lay of the land. A 5k loop started and ended at the lodge. Towards the end of the race, when time was running out, we could tack on a short 0.5 mile loop but as soon as the clock read 12:00:01 the loop would not count, the race was over.

Mountain Creek, Vernon, NJ

We had 30 nervous but excited starters. I saw a tall guy sporting the Team Type 1 kit so introduced myself. He was Ryan Jones. He had heard of me through the team and we are both doing Leadville. Unfortunately for me he was not doing more than six hours and that also meant our conversation was cut short when we started ascending the first hill. He was running it and it was steep! I let him go, I just knew that kind of output for me was unsustainable for 12 hours.

The start of 1100ft gain!

After this climbing stretch, we turned sharp left through some woods but we were now descending. I was convinced these mountain goats ahead of me were going the wrong way but they were right and we did get a mini downhill recovery. That soon ended when we started climbing in an open field by the ski lift. This hill was long and ridiculously steep. Both of my achilles were in agony and I had to stop at the top to stretch. We hit our second runnable section which was rolling terrain on a rocky trail? Was this the top? I prayed hard. The devil just laughed.

The trail ended and I saw an even longer climb. This was head down, big stride stuff. No running, looking up or talking here. This was really tough and I was just starting.

The last descent; the yellow dot is me!!

It had taken me 35 minutes to climb 1.5 miles. How was I going to hit my goal of 50 miles at that pace I asked myself. Run down hard! Sections of the downhill where steeper than the way up so I had some leaning back to do which meant braking to not lose control. It also meant a lot of quadriceps work. I arrived back at the start in 45 minutes giving Rui the really comforting news that it was really tough! I sat in a chair at the lodge and did my first ‘during exercise’ blood test; a low of 62. This was a surprise. I had taken half of my breakfast bolus at 4am and been 160 only 3 miles ago. I had no time to ponder how now, I had to load up on sugar fast and carry on. Two honey stinger gels went in the system and I carried on. This wasn’t a time to re-test in 15 minutes. I would do so in 45 minutes after loop 2.

Besides, I was fully loaded with gels in case I ran into trouble while away from my supplies. I also had my handheld water bottle full of Gatorade. Now I knew the course, I started to break it down into managable doses of pain; the climbs consisted of three power hiking sections with two runnable trail sections and the descent was just that, just get back in one piece.  My pace remained the same on loop 2; a 35 minute climb, 10 minute descent and 5 minute break for blood testing, food intake and general recovery.

Loop 4 in the books (12.4 miles) and the sun was now out to play.

Now my blood glucose was 82. Only just OK. More gels and some energy chews were digested and off I went. At loop 3 I appreciated the first two more, the sun was now rising. At loop 4 I now found myself suddenly surrounded by another hundred plus runners in the 6-hour and 3-hour events. It was tough to know where I placed in my race, more so now. I guessed top 10. My real focus though was keeping an honest pace of 45 minutes per loop and getting my blood glucose back to near 160. I didn’t want to get sucked into a pace of a guy doing 3 or 6 hours.

I achieved both my steady pace and glucose control for the next few hours. I was on track to run 50 miles; 16 big loops and 1 short loop. At 1pm I changed my shoes and socks. As I entered the rock trail near the summit I wondered how the new trail shoes would do on this section. THUD. Down I went hitting my shin hard on a not so blunt rock. I guess I got my answer! Two women who I had just passed, said they heard the wounded animal and made sure I was OK. After five minutes of hobbling and really thinking I had just ended my 12 hour race at 7 hours I joked to them that as it (my leg) had not fallen off, it was time to carry on.

This was unsurprisingly my slowest loop and also resulted in my highest blood glucose; 188, due to not burning as much carbs as predicted for the loop.  I was now behind schedule. As well as my shin, my whole body was also now beginning to ache more and more with the heavy cement legs on the uphills and pick axes attacking my quads on the downhills.

At 3pm I found Rui sitting down amongst many other 6-hour finishers. I asked how it went as I only saw him once in his race. He won it!!! Only his second ever ultra race and he tore it up with over 28 miles. Whether he knew it or not, this gave me renewed energy. I returned after yet another loop and he told me I was in fourth place. It didn’t mean much as I had no idea how far ahead the top 3 were. All I knew was, it meant a handful who were ahead of me had dropped out at some point. I slumped into my chair at the lodge and did my routine; towel, blood test, can of coke and handful of fruit (it was all my stomach could handle at this point). I tried to imply to Rui I felt bad he was waiting for me to finish hoping he would say he was really bored and we should call it a day. Typical pacer just looked at me and said he was fine and I should keep going! I had two hours left and was really wasn’t feeling it. Finally I got up and went for “one” more loop.

It took a while, almost an hour. I was now walking sections I had run and even sat at the top of the ski lift to drink water. That was a mistake. I almost lay down and was going to have a little nap! That nap could have lasted the rest of the race time.

I returned to base and Rui informed me I was now top 3. Then he kicked my ass and told me the 4th place guy was coming after me! Why? Please just leave me alone! Their was no question of what I had to do. One more big loop to keep 3rd, my 15th loop. I could do that in one hour surely? And surely, I did. It was one of my fastest of the day; 46.5 miles in the bag. I came back to base with 11:40 on the clock. I thought I was catching 2nd place and wanted to round up to 47 miles so I just grabbed some iced water and carried on. The short loop was a steep climb up and a steep climb down. The devil was everywhere!

Now I was definitely done. I sat on a bench by the finish. Rui said well done, 3rd was secured. Then, Rick, the race director started chanting “One more, one more, one more”. Was he sicker than me?! I said no way. He did it again. Rick doesn’t know me but he certainly pressed the right buttons. I made sure to tell him how much I hated him and got up!  As painful as it was, I did it and finished with 47.5 miles in 11 hours 58 minutes. I missed 2nd by three minutes Jason Friedman – last year’s winner) and first by one mile (Tony Carino). Final blood glucose; 112.

My biggest achievement though was not stopping until it was physically impossible to do any more mileage. That was what I ultimately took away from this experience. “Whenever, I had a decision to make to quit or carry on, I ultimately chose the harder of the two” Rui enforced. He was right and this is exactly how I need to function in Leadville. Thank you Rui, thank you Rick. You guys pushed me all the way.

The big W for Rui (now relaxing!) I had 3 hours to go – mental toughness time!

 

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