Zion Ultras Vs COVID-19

Dateline – April 10, 2020

My body felt off so I eschewed my normal run for a six and a half mile walk.  I am always diligent about getting my miles in especially on a weekend.  I felt okay at first but a couple of miles in, I started to feel tired and a cough creeped in. By the time I was a third of a mile from home I was struggling. Me struggling? A man who had trained for the 50k at the Zion Ultras was now struggling with a simple walk around the neighborhood.  When I got in the house, I collapsed in our family room and fell asleep exhausted. COVID had canceled the Zion Ultras and now it had claimed me. My sixtieth birthday present to myself was to travel to Utah to run in the 50k at the Zion Ultras but that present and the dream that I talked about for a year was now dead.

I live in Northern New Jersey and in the spring of 2020 we were a hotspot when COVID-19 first burst onto the scene. The distress that gripped our area is hard to capture now but most of it was built on fear. A fear that was well founded. Because it was obvious that we had little tools at our disposal to use to battle the virus and deaths started to mount at an alarming rate. However, I was lucky, I was not hospitalized despite being laid up with a fever of over 102 degrees for eleven days, plus a persistent cough, aches, and extreme fatigue. My wife was by my side (figuratively since it was COVID I isolated myself in a room. Which I describe in early blogs.) taking care of me.

Fear gripped me, not that I would not recover but would I be able to run again? Reports were coming out that there may be some long term effects from COVID-19 especially with your lungs. I was determined to win this battle not just to be okay but to be fit and run again. Not only to run but to run an ultra. I was not only battling COVID-19 I was also battling Father Time since I was sixty years old and running ultras in your sixties is not something everyone does but it was my goal. It was my dream not to just run an ultra but to run the Zion Ultra 50k. So, I began my journey to running, with slow short walks.

Those slow walks turned to slow runs. Then to steady, frequent and longer runs. I was piling on the miles and in the year from when I was hit by COVID I accumulated 2271 miles of walking and running about 800 miles more than I had ever done before.

Dateline - April 10, 2021 (exactly one year later)

I am at the starting line of the Zion Ultra 50k and it is cold, hovering somewhere in the low to mid-forties. I am excited and nervous which happens before every race.  I feel strong and know I have the endurance to finish but six days before the race, a pain shot up in my ankle and my ankle swelled up.  I rested it and then ran lightly two of the three days leading up to the race and while I could run I did feel it and was extremely worried that while it may be okay for a six mile run a thirty three mile run is quite another thing.  I took some Ibuprofen before the race and brought some with me so the pain would not be too bad. The night before I couldn’t sleep because after a year of pushing myself with one goal in mind. I thought I might fall short because of an ill-timed orthopedic injury.

I felt like a winner at the starting line. With my Ibuprofen in my pack I knew I would finish and maybe even have a shot at placing in my age group. I felt strong and fit. Everything was completely different than exactly one year ago except one thing. My wife was still by my side this time literally giving me a hug at the starting line and offering me words of encouragement. We all need someone by our side I thought even if they think that you are a bit crazy.  Maybe us crazy people need the support even more, because we tend to choose the path less traveled.

It was a rolling start and the 50ker’s could go out any time between 7:00 and 7:30am a concession to COVID protocols to keep the crowd at the starting line smaller. I chose the 7am time because I just wanted to get started.

When I run a long distance that first mile always seems uncomfortable like I am not in a rhythm.  This time was no different, Except that the scenery was already spectacular. As we started I could see the sun rising over the mountains and it was rejuvenating. I was excited and definitely running to fast but the course at this point was slightly downhill and on a dirt road so I figured that I would take advantage of this terrain because that would not always be the case. We all soon fit into a steady conga line of runners when we hit the single track up the Grafton Mesa only changing one runner at a time when runners stopped for gear adjustments or like me stopping to take pictures and videos of the dramatic vistas on top of the mesa.

I was running pretty steady through the race making steady time sometimes slowing to walk after the mile 13 mark on the uphills to conserve energy.  About halfway through the race I notice that a woman runner was just behind me. This is the nature of ultras in that you will be running with someone for a long time.  I stopped to eat a gel and drink some water and she came upon me and said “Don’t stop you are keeping me going with your pace!” I quickly took a drink of water and followed her and we stayed with each other until mile 29 with us taking turns pacing each other and encouraging each other and not too mention making sure we did not miss a trail marker and lose the trail.  Her name was Kira and she was from San Diego, and she was a veteran of ultra races.  She really kept my pace up and me moving forward during some of the roughest parts of the course over the slick rocks of Gooseberry Mesa. Without her encouragement, I definitely would have slowed down.

There was one point on the race when I was at the end of a point on the Gooseberry Mesa with 360 degree views in which I said to myself “This is why I wanted to run this race.” I wanted to stand on top of a mesa and view the landscape of the Southwest. I took in the view with great satisfaction.

At about the 20 mile point I noticed a young man who was sturdily built with a large beard. His name was Fletch. This is when I found out that this 50K was a bit longer than the 31 miles it should be it was closer to 33 miles. The aid station that was to appear at the 22 mile mark appeared at mile 24. Trail races by their very nature are not exact measurements but in this case it was more a psychological obstacle as we were all moving aid station to aid station and when the aid station is not there when you expect it, it is a bit disheartening. We finally arrived at the aid station grumbling to the poor volunteer that it was mismarked.

From mile 24 to 29 it was the three of us together. We talked some, which is natural in an ultra. Fletch told us this was his first ultra, Kira and I were veterans this was my sixth one and I  told them that I didn’t do my first till the age of fifty seven. He was shocked and asked “How old are you?” I told him “sixty-one”. He said “Can’t wait to tell my parents who are in there sixties and complain about just walking, that a sixty-one year old helped get me through this race!”

At the last aid station, Kira left first smelling the finish line and we never saw her again.  I looked at Fletch and said “You ready?” He wasn’t but that did not stop him. It soon became apparent that he would have difficulty running because his leg muscles had seized up on him and he was in pain. We mostly walked the last four miles with some jogs place here and there.

We did talk and Fletch had his own journey to this ultra. He had been in some dark and scary places in his young life but was now pretty much out of them and this ultra was part of that journey to a good life. Fletch and I were on the journey to the finish line together but our real stories was about the journey to the starting line. That is true for all runners in any race but especially ultra-runners. The journey to the starting line is often more difficult than the journey to the finish line.

At one point when I know he was struggling I offered up some very simple advice that helps me get through a tough race “Just keep moving forward”. It is simple but it is amazing how many people just stop and feel sorry for themselves.

My journey began laying on a couch with COVID. The next step was first walking, then running and training never very far from my house with over 2,000 miles of running and walking to get to the Zion 50k. I didn’t know the details of Fletch’s journey but I know that it was not an easy one but I could tell a couple of things about him. First, he was good and kind man. Second, that he was tough and determined. His life journey would be a good one.

While as much as I like to think of myself as a “badass” for completing the race I know that it was not a solo feat.  The other runners on the course kept me motivated and going. In addition, the race volunteers at the aid stations were also amazing so they are also a part of the accomplishments of the runners.

When we were less than a mile from the finish line I said to Fletch “We have to run through the finish line. It looks better than walking.” At about a half a mile away we started to slowly jog and it felt great as a small crowd of people scattered along the way cheered us on. We ran through the finish line and there was my wife there to greet me, and meet my new best friend. I even did get third place in my age group missing second by less than two minutes.

Looking back I realized that yes I needed the assistance of the other runners and the volunteers on the race, but I need the assistance and love of my wife on the journey to the starting line and after the finish line.

Date Line April 11, 2021 (The day after)

My wife the next day asked me “So did the race live up to your expectations? You have been talking about it for two years!” I said “Yes it had”. The course was gorgeous and the other racers so encouraging.

My mind then began to wander to my next starting line. It is the journey to the starting line, that keeps me motivated. If my battle with COVID taught me anything, it is that don’t take life and your health for granted. In life, like in an ultra, sometimes you just have to keep moving.

 

Fletch and I at the finish line.

 

Inspirational Strangers on the Move

We all love inspirational stories and we desperately seek out these inspirational stories. One of my favorite movies is Remember the Titans because I find it so inspirational.  What makes the movie special is because at the end you say to yourself “and it is a true story”, which in itself makes it more unbelievable and inspiring.

We all seek out inspiration.  We attend religious services weekly hoping to hear a good uplifting and meaningful sermon. During this difficult time we need all the inspiration we can get.

Inspirational people and stories are not found just on the big screen or at a Sunday service.  Inspirational people are all around us if we just take the time to listen and watch.  In fact those inspirational people of everyday life are more impactful than any found on the big screen.

If you read a previous blog post you know I fell into running as a way to get back into shape with a very short term and limited perspective.  It was all about me and nothing else.  Yet something happened to me along the way that caught me pleasantly off guard.  I met and saw total strangers who inspired me just by being in their presence.  It seems everyone comes to a race, particularly the longer and more grueling races, with a story and most go untold.  

It is funny I am inspired by people who’s names I do not even know, but their determination and courage inspired me to keep going during difficult times.  My encounter with them was very brief and I know it was of no significance to them.  Here are two that have stayed with me.

It was at just before the start of a Spartan Race when the starter told us two stories. One was about a man who had brain cancer and a couple of months before he died he completed a Spartan.  Not to be callous or anything, while that was a great story and it moved me, it did not inspire me because I did not see the person and it was just a story.  

Then he told us that as we ran this race we would see a woman on the race who had brittle bone disease and who could get seriously hurt with any fall.  He ended by saying there might come a time we want to quit and that our excuse would have to surpass theirs.  I knew at that moment I would finish the race.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Spartan Races, they are brutal obstacle courses that test your strength and endurance by lifting and carrying heavy objects such as buckets of gravel, sandbags, or dragging blocks around.  So completing this when healthy is a feat but doing it in the final stages of cancer or with any chronic disease is amazing.  To top it all off, it is on ski slope so it is all hills and more demanding.

After that inspirational sendoff, I started the race and completely forgot about that woman. As I continued on the race, I was in my own world when I stumbled upon this woman on a rugged part of the hill moving very slowly with a group of people.  She was weaker than the other participants that was obvious.  I then heard people shouting words of encouragement to her.  She was obviously struggling like we all were but she waved to everyone and smiled broadly.  I remember the smile in the face of danger.  I realized then she was the woman with brittle bone disease and I too yelled encouragement and as I continued on the race, I felt stronger just seeing her effort.  If she could give that much of an effort so can I.  This race was years ago but she is still with me even though I saw her for only 30-40 seconds.

Spartan Race

In the winter I usually do a couple of half marathons with the NJ Trail Series.  These are beautiful but rugged trail races with many hills so there is a lot of up and down on these rough trails.  To top it all off, it is in January and February so it is always cold, sometimes bitterly cold. One year I started a race when the temperature was at “0” degrees.  This race was also cold in the 20’s and before the start we are all jumping up and down and moving our arms in order to stay warm.  I like people watching at races because it is always an interesting cast of characters.  I looked over and I saw a pretty young woman with one of those Norwegian ski hats with the braids coming down, but what struck me was that she had on eye black like a football player going into battle.  Not only that, but she had the biggest smile, she was almost giddy.

Once again, I went off on my race enjoying this familiar trail on this cold day.  On this half marathon you do two loops and I was coming to the end of my second loop about a mile and the half from the finish line when I came up to the woman and her boyfriend moving slowly, she had crutches.  We exchanged encouraging words and she was still smiling broadly.

When I got to the finish line the race director asked me where they were and I told him and I added that she is moving very slowly.  I asked what her story was and he said he didn’t have the complete story but she was in a serious car accident and couldn’t really run and was still recovering.  

I was a bit worried about her but assumed that she would just stop at the halfway point and take a time for the 10k.  The next day I checked my time and place and then realized that there were two people who were four hours behind the last finisher and it was them.  She had done the entire half marathon in the cold and I should point out that she was in the cold pretty much all day.  I couldn’t believe her courage and determination, while the rest of us were between 90 minutes and 3 hours she was almost 6 hours behind the next to last finisher.

I am pretty sure that neither woman was thinking about inspiring other people.  They were dealing with their own medical and health issues.  That is the funny thing about racing and going all out, in inspires people.  I have had a few people come up to me who have seen my race posts and say literally you inspire me and I am now starting to exercise.  My thought is “Me? What am I overcoming that would inspire you?” Then it hit me, what they are really saying is that if an old guy like you can do it than I can too. 

What stands out about these two women is that despite attempting an event that they both knew would push them to their limits they were smiling.  You can’t push yourself to your limits and achieve without a positive mind set and nothing is more positive than a smile.

This may be what I miss most about races that were cancelled due to the pandemic, the opportunity to see people who are pushing themselves to their limit.  There is almost always someone there doing whatever race distance it is for the first time.  While I have done virtual races to keep running it is not the same.

Yes, you can go to Hollywood for inspiration or a TV evangelist but for me go to obstacle race, half marathon, or even a 10K and I know you will find it up close and personal.  You will learn that inspiration is all around you and that it doesn’t take long to absorb it.  You will also learn that it will change you. It will push you more and make you a more positive person.