Road of Suffering

Ok, it's not a road, it's a trail...and the trail is a 6.2 mile loop....and you have to run it three times. This is known as "THE LOOP 30K" in Emma Long Park. It is the second race in a three race series called the Rogue Race Series and takes place in the hill country of Austin, Texas. The trail is very technical and it would not be an exaggeration to say that it consist of about 80%-85% limestone. The pictures below (minus the biker) are of the Emma Long Trail and are indicative of about that 85% of torture...I mean trail.

So let's commence with the race report for "The LOOP - June 1, 2008":

The whole family had made the pilgrimage to Austin Texas and on Saturday had spent an wonderful afternoon at our friends Tim and Tracey's incredible abode in Bee Cave. The kids played in their pool while my wife, her brother Marshall, and myself took it easy.

On Sunday morning Marshall and I got up and made our way out to Emma Long Park and I readied myself for my first trail race. Start time was at 0700 and we arrived in plenty of time not to be rushed. I ate a Cliff bar and continued with electrolyte drink until about 30 minutes before start. Looking around should have been a hint to the difficulty of the race as some of the runners had tattoos depicting their latest 100 mile run endeavor. I have no such tattoo or endeavor. My plan was to start out slow and get the know the course as I had never run it. Marshall had run the course on two different occasions and his plan was to hold back the first 6.2 miles and stay with me the first loop; and then to turn on the jets for the last 12.4 miles. The weather could be described as Central Texas Balmy at 80 F and about 75% relative humidity at the start (I checked the weather report.)

The race starts and we all begin to shuffle down the trail. The first 1/2 mile to mile was quite congested. Things began to open up a little about a mile into the race and the terrain began to become quite apparent. The nickname of "Bonecrusher" was applicable as the limestone begin the initial pounding on the body and let it be known that there would be no relenting. At about mile 2 I rolled my left ankle a bit. Marshall was running behind me and described it as a violent but not complete roll. Everyone around asked if I was alright and I nodded my head and knew that if I kept running that the throbbing would subside within a quarter mile. My goal was to power walk the steep inclines, run the down hills and jog undulating terrain. I did not want to go anaerobic this first loop. Marshall was chomping at the bit to unleash on the trail but used all his military bearing to withhold the first 6.2 miles. At times I would wave him on but he would refrain and later thank me for staying the course. We pulled into the aid station with the Garmin GPS saying 3.3 miles. Marshall was hungry and began stuffing OREO cookies in his mouth and grabbed some water. I carried a 20 oz. water bottle and had drank about 15 oz. the first 3 miles. I had a volunteer top it off, I grabbed some pretzels for salt, and we moved on down the trail. (Note about the volunteers: They were outstanding and could not have been better. All them are trail runners and most of them are Ultramarathoners. They knew exactly what you needed and anticipated it.) The sun began to rise higher in the Texas sky and the heat assault was on. At some point on the back side of the loop I lost my footing on some limestone step ups and cratered to the ground. I escaped any serious injury and the faulty footwork resulted in only a contusion and abrasion to the quad and elbow. The "LOOP" was out for blood and it just got it. That would be sore in the morning. We cruised into the aid station at the end of the first loop without much incident at 1 hour 15 minutes. The air was getting warmer and I could tell this was going to be brutal with 2 loops to go.

At the aid station I had a volunteer top of the bottle as it was now completely empty. I grabbed more pretzels and slammed them down the hatch followed by two cups of Gatorade. I then slammed an Accelerade gel pack for energy, chased it with another cup of water, and was on my way. Marshall had now gone on and I knew that the next time I would see him would be at the finish line. He is a really good runner and can burn the downhills. In fact one runner referred to him as "The Demon of the Downhill" because of his astute footing and incredible speed down the most treacherous terrain. Loop number 2 began and I continued on as before. I was now sweating profusely, the temperature was approaching the 90 degree mark and humidity hung in the air. The limestone continued the pounding and now the legs and body began to notice. "Just somewhat flat ground with no limestone rock"...that's was all my body was asking for. The 20 oz water bottle was now being emptied quicker than the last time and the heart rate was climbing higher than I wanted. I pulled into the aid station at the 9.5 mile mark and thought to myself, "this Godforsaken race is only 1/2 over." Began the same "top off water bottle routine," grabbed more pretzels and some Gatorade and moved on. (This race became a real education in fueling for the trail race as I will detail later.) With only about 3 miles left on loop 2, the trail continued to pound and I attempted to become even more cognizant about my footing, especial as I would run the downhills. On the back side of trail, a runner had severely injured his ankle (thought to be broken) and there was a group of runners and support crew around. I asked if they needed help. I knew that I was not in much condition to do much of anything. The support crew told me they had it covered and to keep going. I pulled into the end of loop 2 aid station at 2 hours 47 minutes.

At this point the volunteers had ice ready as the heat was becoming a factor. I remember something about him mentioning that "even the skinny girls were sweating heavy....not to mention the burly guys." I slammed another gel pack...more pretzels....more Gatorade....more water. At this point I began to actually monitor the sweat production and became mildly concerned with electrolyte balance. My back was beginning to ache and didn't know if was the pounding of the trail or if my kidneys were retaliating because of a sodium imbalance. I pressed on in a dark state of mind. I was suffering and I still had a 6.2 miles to go on a trail that was showing no mercy. My heart rate was through the roof and my ankle now was back to throbbing. I mumbled something about quitting. A fellow runner overheard me and was suffering like the rest of us. Her comment burned into my mind..."You can't quit...You have over 3 hours left before they shut the course...you can walk 6.2 miles in 3 hours." I said thanks and moved on. Picking out a tree and running to it...looking at the next tree and running to it...then a bush....then a rock...and before I knew it I was at the aid station. Here is where my education on fueling took root. The volunteers asked how I was doing...and I replied "I am hurting...how do I look?" "You always feel worse than you look in these things," one volunteer replied. I mentioned about the pain in my back and wondered if it was my kidneys. After determining where the pain was, they determined it was not my kidneys and then asked, "have you eaten anything?" "Some pretzels and 2 gel packs," was my reply. "You've got to eat something...now!"

I looked at the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches ripening in the sun...next to the bananas. It was enough that I wanted to puke. "I can't," I said..."just looking at that stuff makes me want to puke." On volunteer said, "get him a salt cap...not wanting to eat is a sign that you need sodium in the system." I popped 2 salt caps and slammed them with water. I then forced myself to eat a banana. I readied myself to move on and to get this suffering over with. At this point one volunteer said, "your going to love this when your done....then your going to start to look for the next one...then a fifty miler....you really are going to love it." I said, "yeah, thanks" ...and off I went for the last 2.9 miles. The little food and salt caps must have done the trick. I had more energy and was running in longer jaunts and at a faster pace. My heart rate was still higher than I wanted it but I was nearly done with this thing. With about a mile to go I came upon a runner barely shuffling along. I asked him if he was alright. He mumbled about taking a fall. "Did he need help?" I asked..."No'" he mumbled. Come to find out he probably broke his collarbone in the fall. These trail runners are tough...can I measure up? I turned the corner to the finish. There was my wonderful wife Bren and my three gorgeous kids, Luke, Macy and Hope cheering me on. There was also my brother-in-law and friend who had run a great race at 3 hours 34 minutes. Luke immediately started getting me Gatorade and food. He is a great crew and I can't wait till we can do this together.

I finished in 4 hours 29 minutes 39 seconds. Frankly I am a bit disappointed and embarrassed by my time. In retrospect, I am thankful that I finished as about 25% of the field DNF'ed (did not finish). One runner had passed out due to heat and dehydration. Marshall mentioned that the volunteer crew prohibited one runner from continuing because of blurry vision. I had survived my first trail race. Six hours later, on the trip back to Dallas, I reflected on how I enjoyed the challenge, how I loved pushing myself. The volunteer was right. I loved it. I started the think about the next race....maybe the El Scorcho...a 50K (31 mile)....that begins at midnight. Stay Tuned.