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.

 

The Seduction of the Algorithm

There is moment when you realize that you are being lead on and seduced. That moment is when you have given in. This is my story.

The beautiful picture appeared on my news feed. It was not a link that I subscribed to, but on a site an algorithm had decided I was interested in.  I have to say my interest was piqued.  I know that I should not have been interested because I am married with a family, work obligations, and very little spare time. I was also in my upper 50’s at the time so maybe this was my midlife crisis.  I stared at the pictures and she spoke to me.  She was beautiful and exciting. “You are not too old. It is now or never.” She said.  I knew this was not me searching for this excitement but an algorithm preying on me for money.  My saner side was winning at first but the more daring side was interested and kept taking a peek.  It was wearing my logic down.  I did not give into the seduction the first few times but I could not forget it either. Finally, I gave into the seduction and clicked on to join. Maybe the algorithms knew me better than I knew myself. 

Being the good husband that I am, I confessed to my wife “Hun I signed up to do a 50 mile ultra-marathon”. I had never even run a marathon before, so this was a big and daring step for me.  Maybe my wife knew me better than I knew myself because she was not shocked nor surprised. Maybe everyone knows me better than I know myself.

The thing is I knew from that moment, was that I was being targeted.  Targeted not because I am a nice guy, smart, or even wealthy. No. I was targeted because I am a runner.  The algorithm knows that runners are easy prey. Put any new race in front of them with smiling runners and photos of beautiful landscapes, and a t-shirt and they are interested. We are like cats following the red dot of a laser pen.

They are also hard to avoid especially since I also shop online.  Doesn’t matter what news story I am reading whether it is on public education, global warming, impeachment, or a grisly murder; there are my brand of trail shoes happily following me as I scroll through the article.  Telling me that I need a new pair, even though I just bought a pair last month. 

I would like to say that I learned my lesson and have stayed away from unsolicited running ads but I cannot lie.  I do click on the many races that appear but it is almost a flirtatious relationship on my part not one of commitment because while I will tease them with numerous clicks. They are almost always too far a drive for me to commit to.  Though once and a while if the race is close by and fits in my schedule I commit.

One however did not play fair and that was Vacation Races.  Because it not was not just a race but it was numerous races, set in places of natural beauty. This captured my other passion besides running and that is seeing national parks and being outside in areas of immense beauty.  They also had a variety of dates and locales to choose from so my biggest reason for not succumbing, the date, was off the table. Fitting one into my schedule was relatively easy. Then they also included epic short videos with dramatic music.  I saw myself running in these beautiful places. There now was only two obstacles, traveling a long distance to get to the race (and the costs associated with that) and convincing my wife.

Luckily for me, that while my wife has little interest watching me run for hours she does enjoy, like me, traveling, and seeing our country’s beautiful places.  My strategy was set.  We always wanted to go back to the Southwest and see places like Bryce Canyon and Zion National Park and Vacation Races provided me the perfect cover to say that this was about the both of us when in reality it was about the race and me. 

Despite my knowledge that my wife would love to visit Zion and Bryce and that this is something we both wanted I did have pangs of guilt about asking her because the motivation was not about our pleasure but was about my race. It was time for me to admit that running and racing, was my mistress and the algorithms knew that and played on my weakness. 

That realization however, did not stop me from pursuing the Zion Ultra and telling my wife that the race was only one day and the rest of the time, I would be hers. I then picked the 50k over the 100k because it was a shorter race. It would be only one day just about me, instead of the longer race that would go on into the night.  I was proud of myself for being so thoughtful. I could have easily opted for a half marathon and it would be about a two-hour commitment. Yes, I could have, but the views that my race mistress flirted in front of me made me commit more time to her.

The issue though is not just this race.  It is that the algorithms know me and can prey on me. While I am set to do the Zion Ultra this April there are other beautiful races out there almost all of them calling my name. I even joined the Friends of Vacation Races Facebook page. Now I am seeing posts from other runners also seduced by the algorithms.  Yet we are happily seduced. We are very willing victims.

It took me a month or so of cajoling my wife about how great this time alone would be for us and that the race was just one in a series of events that would have on this trip before we committed.  Though she saw right through my charade and laughed at my attempts to make this trip about us. I am like a man coming home with lipstick on my shirt collar.

After this race, I plan on turning over a new leaf. I will no longer succumb to these race ads.  I am a new man. I know that my wife would love to see Yosemite, Yellowstone, California wine country, or even go overseas to Italy or Ireland. I will gladly join her and even help plan the dates we go. It will just be a simple coincidence that there happens to be a race going on at the same time we are there. It is after all only a few hours and the rest of the time I will be hers. I think that I may need help.