Law of Inertia

It’s amazing what can change in a week. Finally, I can write a post where I’m not compelled to whine about the snow and tough conditions to do a long run outdoors.

For this week, my week in training went pretty well.

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Yes, 31 miles on Sunday. It turns out I decided to do the 50K in Caumsett Long Island last minute. It also happened to be the USATF National 50K Championship and there were some pretty fast guys running that ultra faster than I could do a 5K.

Of course this wasn’t an actual race for me. There would be no way I would be able to recover in time for Boston next month. Even though I’m still not sure what my goal for Boston will be.

Nonetheless, although it was just a training run, it was still my first ultra. Typically, I do a marathon as a tune up before racing a marathon. This practice is somewhat controversial with a lot of people having opinions as to whether or not there are benefits past 20 miles, and if there’s more harm than good. I can debate this, but for the purpose of this post, I’ll just say that there’s nothing magic about a specific distance, and each of us have our own threshold as to how much is too much. If you can build to 20, you can build past 20. If anything, the amount of time you spend running is more tangible than the distance.

Since, this was not a race, I’ll try to keep the report short. The course itself was a 5K loop, mostly flat with some gentle rolling inclines, and two moderate inclines. Despite my complaints on my last post of doing 40 laps of a half mile loop for 20 miles, this was nothing like it. It was actually a nice course and long enough not to feel like you were running in circles getting dizzy.

The initial plan was for me to pace Tony and Peter, who I traveled with to the race. The intention was to help them out with a goal time of sub 4:30, while serving a dual purpose in benefitting me from not getting carried away and running it too hard. Last September I did the Yonkers marathon as training for NYC and accidentally did 3:21 on what I thought was easy effort. Although, I was pretty pleased with myself when I crossed the finish, it prevented me from being able to run an 18mi tune up race and some other quality workouts. I didn’t want to make that same mistake again.

So the morning of, the weather is quite brisk, but sunny. The forecast calls for low 50s by the afternoon and its difficult to figure out how to dress. Being that I’m running easy, I don’t know if I will be able to go fast enough to keep warm. I decide to go with shorts and just a long sleeve top.

While lined up, the speech is kept short, and the horn goes off. Peter and Tony take off surprisingly fast. I guess it’s clear they’re out to race. I follow and question whether or not I should reel them in. I wait for the crowd to thin out to see if the pace naturally adjusts. It doesn’t, so I check my garmin and inform them we’re going much faster than the planned 8:30s.

The first lap is chilly and windy. It goes by fast and is quite enjoyable, although the pace was too quick the whole time despite me running behind them.

The second lap things warm up and everything is comfortable. Again, too fast with consistent 8:15s. During this lap I realize I am in trouble with a case of the runner’s trots. It comes and hits me out of no where. Some cramps and a bad urge to go to the toilet. There are port-a-johns at the start of each loop and I debate whether or not I should use them or skip it in hopes this subsides.

We get to within half a mile from the porta johns and the sight of them makes the urge stronger. There is no getting around it now and I begin to worry if I’ll even make it to them without exploding. As we run to the timing mats, I see both port-a-johns are occupied by the locks colored red. I’m told there’s one inside in the cottage so I run in there. I’m now racing to find it and not because the clock is ticking, but because I’m struggling to keep myself together. I finally realize which unmarked white painted door is the bathroom and of course its locked. I wait there for what feels like an eternity. It’s at this point I wonder if I should hang tight and wait, or check the port-a-johns outside. No one racing would take this long. Finally, some guy comes out who must be at least 109 years old. I run in, do my business. Come out and the same guy is now blocking the hallway doing something with his pants and I cant get around him. I remind myself that I am technically running a race and realize the bizarre situation. I manage to politely slip past him without accidentally knocking him over and breaking his hip.

I am now happy to be back out there and able to run. I’m so relieved. I’m so much lighter!! I run a little bit harder. Things feel great. The weather is so fantastic and it’s the type of weather where there is no way to spend it better than running. I’m happy at the idea that I’ll be able to spend enough time doing it today. I push a bit harder to try and catch up to Tony and Peter. It’s not until I almost complete the lap that I see them. I realize I did 7 min miles for that 5K loop and I catch them right as we go over the mats. My watch shows a little over 21 minutes for that 5K.

I run the next 5K with them and no sooner do we start do I realize I have stomach issues again. Although I still feel great, I question whether or not that fast 5K is going to catch up with me and make then end a struggle. The reoccurring cramps and second urge to go makes me contemplate the possibility of dropping out at some point later in the race and I casually mention this. The remark is met with some shock and confusion by Tony who encourages me to do the best I can to finish.

We continue on. We come up with a plan so that I can help refill their bottles at the aid station to minimize the time spent stopping, but the plan does not come to fruition. Instead, the proximity of the port-a-johns towards the end of the lap have another bizarre effect on my bowels. Like a magnet, the closer I get, the stronger the force, and again, I stop on 4th loop, 20K, for another bathroom break. Luckily the port-a-john is empty, and it doesn’t take as long since there’s not as much left in my system. I finish up, run out, and catch up to them in about a quarter of a mile.

We do the next lap. At the end of that lap, 25K, I go again. I try to be somewhat optimistic and hope this will be the last time. I run out to catch up again. I’ve been running long enough where I can find a groove even at a slower pace. I catch up to them, and slow down to what I feel is 8:30s. They don’t stick with me. I’m undecided what to do. Am I misjudging the pace? I question how much I’ve been benefiting them. It feels like the majority of the time is me struggling to hold in my bowels, or me running to catch up with them. I decide the two of them are running together and have each other to pace off of and I am not adding benefit. I decide I will be better off mentally with the stomach issues if I can just find a pace that feels comfortable whatever it is. Somehow going slower makes it feel worse. I tell them I need to go ahead. I later learn this was a key moment when I should have stuck with them as their race was falling apart and I feel guilty about it. I express this to them later, and I’m told not to feel this way. Nonetheless, I hope to make it up to them at some other point.

I make it two laps, another 10K, before I need to use the port john. It’s at this point I realize I have 3 more laps to do. 9.3 miles. I’ve done about 22 so far. Over an hour to go feels like a lot. But another lap doesnt, and the last two went by rather quickly. I go out and decide to just get the next lap done.

Another lap. Towards the end of this lap, even before seeing the porta johns, I stop dead in my tracks right before they appear in sight. I stop because there’s a lot of gas and other stuff moving throughout my gut and I am afraid moving will, well, lets just say I’m afraid to move. Things recover and I make my way to the mats, and my port-a-john to take another bathroom break for what will be the last time!

I go on to finish the last two loops. The first of the two I’m beginning to be glad that there’s only one more after the one I’m on. After I go over each of the two moderate inclines I mentioned earlier, they feel more difficult, and I remind myself I only have to do each of them once more.

As I do the last lap, I’m glad to admit to myself I’m happy it’s over after this. I cross the finish at 4:21:33 and go right past the lady giving out the medals. It’s after 15 minutes later I realize others have medals and I approach her to pick up mine.

Something worth mentioning is that I tried the glucose tablets during this run and realize, although they work great, they’re not ideal for taking during a race. If you’re thirsty its hard to chew them and get them down and might even risk choking if you’re breathing hard. They’re not easy to carry either, but if you manage to get them down without needing the Heimlich maneuver, I can confidentially say they’re more effective than any gel.

I also learn afterwards that Aaron, who traveled with us, but ran it on his own, also with no real goal, wound up doing an average 6:59 pace for the entire 50K. I’m still blown away by this. He’s also doing Boston and I can only imagine what he’ll pull off at that race.

The next day, I’m surprised my legs are a little sore. I can’t say I had to put much of an effort in during the race. I think I’ll be completely back in another day, if not tomorrow.

This weekend, no matter what the weather is, I plan to go out and do a hard 20 miles to figure out where I am in terms for Boston because right now it’s a mystery to me.

Below is an image of my half mile splits. You can clearly see where the bathroom breaks are.

half mile splits including 5 bathroom breaks