As I sat in my camp waiting for my start time at ARFTA
(A Race For The Ages) I was feeling confident about the race. I really had
no good reason to be confident. This was my first race since May 2 when I was
running a 50K trail in New York State. That race was a disaster as I fell hard
and broke my shoulder. I was laid up in a sling for almost two months and did
not run for a little more than two months. I did run for two months before this
race, but it was not the most intensive training I have ever done. The other
thing that gave me pause besides my training was that it was unbearably hot
with temperatures expected to be over 100 degrees on the asphalt during the
middle of the day. Heat is the most difficult weather for me to conquer as a
runner. Some of my most difficult times as a runner have been in excessive
heat.
During the time I was recovering from my injury, I almost
cancelled my registration for this race, thinking that I definitely was not
prepared to run well over 100 miles. Then I saw that the legendary ultra runner
Ann Trason, who has rheumatoid arthritis, was going to run the race with her
walker. My excuse seemed so flimsy in comparison that I had no choice but to continue.
Yet despite my earlier trepidation, for some reason I was
confident that I could run quite a few miles in the 67 hours allotted to me.
The year before I had done 160 miles and while I did not expect to do that
again I was sure I could get in at least 130 miles. When I was training my
mindset was positive. Training for me is not just about the physical aspect but
keeping your mindset positive and gritty. I always envision conquering my next
race as I do a training run.
Start times for ARFTA are by age. The older you are, the
earlier you start. I was in with the other 67-year-olds and about half the
runners were older than us and the other half were younger. There were a little
more than 150 people registered.
My plan was simple. I planned to accumulate most of my miles
in the night and early morning. During the middle of that day, when temperatures
were over 100 degrees, my plan was to take it easy and move it slower. Maybe I
would even take my naps during the middle of the day. It sounded great on paper
but last year I couldn’t stay awake at night and overslept a couple of times. I
also wondered how easy it would be to sleep in the brutal heat with the sun
shining.
That first night actually went well. My age group started at
4 p.m. so we did not get much of the brutal heat. I was able to stay awake
pretty much the whole night. I had used an electrolyte that was infused with
caffeine and every hour or so I would take a swig of Pepsi, which also contains
caffeine. What I did notice, however, was that in my age group were two super-strong
runners. Steve, who in the past three years had run over 200 miles and won two
out of the three races, was one of them. The other was Ed, who I met in the morning
over breakfast. He was very impressive and seemed stronger than even Steve that
first night.
As the morning came, I still felt okay. The heat was rising
fast and wherever there was shade I ran in it. Then the heat by 10 a.m. was
brutal and I noticed fewer runners. I myself just went to a steady walk. I saw
Ed and he said he was going to take a nap, so I did not see him again for a few
hours. Nobody was running except Steve and even he slowed down to a walk. Some
people decided to rest at a hotel and get refreshed and then run harder in the
late afternoon after the heat had broken somewhat. I just went slowly trying to accumulate miles
but not overexert and burn myself out.
I was drinking plenty of fluids and kept eating every six
hours or so. Towards the end of the afternoon, I called my wife to touch base,
and she said I was doing good. She told me that I was in the top twenty. I
forgot that there was a link where you could follow the runners online, but I
wasn’t worried about standings yet.
Overnight as it got closer to midnight, we could all see and
hear thunder and lightning in the distance. Every time I completed a loop, I
either picked something from my camp and put in my car, or I moved things to
the middle of the canopy to keep them from getting wet in the impending storm.
Then the storm hit and it was torrential. It was not only a
lot stronger than I anticipated but it lasted a lot longer. It was almost three
hours. I had taken shelter in my car and dozed off in the car for some much-needed
sleep. Then the rain stopped and everyone started popping out and started
walking and running again. It was about 3 a.m. and I checked my canopy and
camp. My heart sank. While it had survived the wind, the water had pooled on
the canopy and it collapsed. I took the tarp off the mangled frame. It was dark
so I told myself that I would continue moving and assess the damage in the
light. Besides I was closing in on 100 miles.
Yet as I moved my mind was not in a good place. I was contemplating getting my 100 miles and calling it a race since I would not have a camp. It was going to be another hot day, and I would not have any shelter. Yet I kept moving, walking very steadily and with purpose. The storm had not only cost me my camp but time for covering miles.
When daylight came it confirmed my initial thoughts that my
camp was no longer viable. I decided however that I would keep my antigravity
chair, ice chest and one plastic bin out in the open under some trees and
continue my race. This day was extremely
hot like the previous day. Many runners in the middle of the day again took a
break away from the heat and headed to a hotel or their camp to get away from
the heat. I trudged on with only a couple of things slowing me down. The first
was every time I came by I would try to clean up one thing in my camp. Often that
meant throwing things out near the garbage can. That included my canopy frame.
The second thing that slowed me down was that as the sun rose my chair was now
in the sun and I had to keep moving it into the shade. Almost a reverse
sundial.
As the last night was coming upon us Patty from Texas said
to me “Ray you are doing good. You’re in the top ten.” I had completely
forgotten once again that we could track the standings. I checked the standings
and saw that I was in eighth place. The competitive juices came out, and I
wanted to stay in the top ten. I actually picked up my pace.
It is hard to explain how one keeps going in the wee hours
of the night with little sleep, but I did. There were a couple of times I was exhausted
and took longer rests—perhaps 25 minutes or so. I remember coming out and
starting to move after a longer rest. Someone yelled to someone else. “Number
8 is back out.” I guess others were checking the standings. We were all
pushing each other. The gap between fifth place and ninth place was only a few
miles. I had to keep going if I was going to stay in the top ten.
I did pause however to watch Ann Trason, the runner who
suffers from rheumatoid arthritis, get to 100 miles with her walker just before
the sun rose. It was a very impressive feat.
My pace was much better now, and I saw that I moved up to
sixth place in the morning. The problem was that all the people behind me were
still moving so if I stopped, I would surely fall in the standings. I didn’t
want to fall in the standings, I noticed one runner, Ruth was moving faster
than me. If I was going to maintain sixth place, I would need to pick up my
pace which I did and actually ran two of the last three laps before the noon
end time to put me at 151 miles which amazed me. I had more in the tank than I
thought.
After the race I got to my hotel room and checked in early.
I showered, then ate a sandwich and tried to drink a beer but after eating I
fell sound asleep in the afternoon not even halfway through the beer.
Looking back, I think that my confidence is what got me
through the race despite the heat and my limited training. Doing ultramarathons
is often more a mental game than a physical one. Keeping a positive mindset and
focusing on moving forward is so important. When you are running and walking for
almost three days you have to overcome negative thoughts that creep into your
head.
Early in the race I remember crossing paths with Steve who
ended up winning the race. I yelled “How are you doing?” He shakes his head and says, “I’m not
feeling it.” I replied, “You will.” Like me, after my camp was destroyed,
he was down but just kept going until pretty soon he was dominating. That is
what the mental training does for you. It gets through those negative moments.
Maybe I didn’t have a good reason for being confident, but confidence is what got me through the race successfully.
