Revenge, Vindication, Sleeping Giants, Whatever. This Was More Than Just A 50km...

  

    Training for this race for me. Began a little over seven weeks ago. After a race in which I didn't do as good as I had liked to. Some things were said to me. While in the process of congratulating the winner BY the winner I felt were a little uncalled for. I don't feel what was said was malicious in any way. Nor do I feel it was intended to hurt or anger anyone. I think more it was a simple case of someone trying to do a little post race trash talking. Though they could  have chosen a better place and time to convey their emotions.

   All I can say is that obviously the inexperience of being in that position before was the reason for their complete lack of restraint. My only hope is that they learned something from that experience. So that the next time they can keep from kicking an old dog when he is down.

   Still licking the open wounds from the race and on the heels of such a low blow. I restrained myself from saying what I really felt. I swallowed my pride and finished congratulating him on a well run race. No harm no foul. All water under the bridge at this point. Instead of coming up with some lame reason or excuse for my poor performance. I decided to make a vow to myself then and there. At the next race we met each other at. It was going to play out totally different. The last thing I remember being said to me was "Bring it On."

   Those three words were the fuel that spurred my training over the last seven weeks. If for no other reason than the pure simplicity of those words alone. It made me realize one thing. Under no circumstances should I ever become complacent with my place in the pack. That somebody, somewhere will always be gunning for you. I found that being a sponsored runner only raises the stakes of the game. People expect you to be able to have certain abilities. A consistency in your racing that earned you that honor in the first place. Which does nothing more in the end than make that bulls eye on your chest shine that much brighter.

   With that thought constantly running through my head day and night. I went back to the drawing board. Looked at the calendar. Picked a race and crunched the numbers. Coming up with a plan the would get me to the starting line of the next race with my "A" game in tow.

   The next six weeks of training were literally HELL! Never in my life have I trained at that level of intensity for that long under those conditions. During those six weeks I covered 659 miles of running during the hottest part of the day whenever I could. Over the hilliest ground I could find. I would run so long, to the point of intentionally making myself sick. Knowing that's what had to be done in order to have a solid run on the Wyco course in the month of July.

   As the weeks past by. I became sick less and less during my runs. Until eventually the unbearable 90 to 100 degree heat indexes felt like mild 70's. Each week I became stronger on the hills. Able to do more and more repeats with the same intensity. Going into an extremely hilly race it was a 100 percent pure confidence builder. The 170lbs I normally fight at was now too heavy. So my body did what any ones would do when training like someone possessed. If it didn't need it. It got rid of it. I began to drop weight like a Crack Head on a two year bender. Finally ending up at 162lbs. The lightest I have ever been. Each day closer it got. The more the promise to myself of actually winning the whole damn thing became a realistic goal.

   Not wanting to come off like Babe Ruth. Calling my shot only to strike out because something went drastically wrong. I kept my desire to win the race mostly to myself. Other than my wife and training partners. Darin Schneidewind and John Knowles. Nobody knew what I was up to.

   The week before the race arrived. Along with the tapper tantrums from the lack of running. Little phantom aches and pains here and there. Which in itself would be enough to shake the confidence of even the most mentally fit athlete. The forces to be felt it was not enough. So they decided to test my mental fortitude by throwing in two sick kids. Fours inches of rain on the race course. Hell virtually breaking loose at my job. A raccoon in front of my car on the way home from working night shift. Causing $3,200 dollars worth of damage. Dealing with the insurance company. The rental car company and lastly. A tire puncture on the family minivan. Phewww!!! Somehow in spite of all that happened I managed to keep my cool. Staying what I was now saying, "Zen to Win."

   Race morning the alarm went off at 5:00AM. Way too early and not near enough sleep. The stress of knowing what I had to do in order to do what I wanted to. Finally caught up with me. I tossed and turned all night. The work had been done and there was nothing else I could do. I knew I was ready. A little sleepy or not, I was ready to run. I got dressed. Threw on the flip flops and loaded the car. Then started the trek East.

    Pulling into the park Jess and I stopped by packet pick up to get my number. Then we headed over to the aide station where she would be working for the day. I set up a little chair and laid out some shoes so that I could make a change if I needed to on the second loop. After we got set up there we cruised on back to the start/finish area. By that time more people had arrived and the parking lot was filling up pretty quickly. We managed to get a spot near the starting line.

   Bad Ben sure had a good turnout for the race this year. 326 starters combined for both races. 112 of which were signed up for the 50km. That was pretty much double the size from the year before. Usually when you have that kind of turnout the field gets a bit deeper too. Bad Ben made sure to point that out the week prior also. By posting a list of potential overall contenders twenty some people long. He even threw in a few surprise contenders that had got me excited for a second. Then I realized he was probably just pulling my leg. Having a little fun.

   After looking at that list and filtering out who I thought the real contenders were from the pretenders. I came up with a much shorter list than his. Out of that list of 20 or so. There were really only three or four guys I was worried about. Greg Buehler, Rick Mayo, Todd Nott and Matt Becker. All of these guys have had great results in the past on this course. Whether in the summer version or the winter version. 
 
   For me that is what it really comes down to. It doesn't matter how fast you've run a flat hundred miler. Ripped off some smoking quick time at Boston or won a race with 12 finisers. On this course none of that matters. If you can't run either up or down short very steep hills at those same precarious speeds over technical rocky and root strewn terrain. You don't stand a chance here. Course knowledge reigns supreme and these guys have already proven they had that and more. If there was going to be a winner I knew it was going to come from one of us five guys.

    Ben called everyone over for the final pre-race instructions. I lined up shoulder to shoulder with Buehler. Rick was standing on the sidelines. Becker was a few rows back and Todd was behind me. Everybody else was a blur. Greg wished me luck and I said the same to him. He asked me how I was feeling and I told him. Anymore I'm 50/50 when it comes to running in the heat. Sometimes I show up and nail it. Other times I run like shit. I said I'd see how I felt a couple of hours from then.

   Ben gave the signal and we were off. Immediately Buehler and Mayo jumped out to the front of the group. I slotted myself into fourth position behind a guy who seemed like he really wanted to be in third at that point more than I did. Up the little hill hitting the single track and down the other side I quickly jumped up a spot. Already the guy in third was making me a little nervous as he started hitting the breaks in front of me. "On your left." I yelled letting it out a little on that first downhill. Settling in right behind Rick and Greg as they transitioned into the next of several hundred small climbs we would be dragging ourselves up and over for the next five hours. Things pretty much stayed that way for the first six miles.

   Running smooth still around mile five Rick leading the way. We encountered the first of the major climbs. "HEDGEHOG" A particularly nasty little B!#*h of a climb. I'm not sure of the gradient on this climb. My guess, is if it has a rope tied to a tree at the bottom of the hill and one to a tree at the top. Then it has to be pretty damn steep. Halfway up the climb Rick asked if I was doing O.K. I told him I was good for now. Not too bad. That was kind of a lie as I was feeling really good. Completely within my comfort zone. I wasn't even starting to breathe hard. Still I wasn't quite ready to let it fly just yet. I wanted to keep it where it was for a few more miles to see if any other runners were going to catch up to our little duo. In and out of the aide station at mile 5.5 I took the lead for the first time. To take a turn on cobweb patrol. I really didn't want to lead at all on the first loop but with Rick and I the only ones out front it was only fair to take a turn up front and do some work. Out of the woods, down the dam and across the spillway. I arrived at the foot of the "Col du Fall Down Hill." Another nasty climb. Twice as long as Hedgehog with at least a dozen and a half switchbacks. Some say this is the worst hill on the course but not me. It reminds me of the Ozarks. I get a big kick out of running up or down this mini monster. Hands down my favorite section of the course.

   Pre race I had chatted with Andy Henshaw. Last years course winner about some tactics for this race based on how I like to run. So far those plans were nothing like we discussed. I was running the pace we talked about and well within myself but I was leading. Instead of  being in 5th like we thought I might be at this point. Everything felt right. It just looked all wrong. Still I was going to stick to the plan. Staying with the idea of trying to maintain and effort and not a pace.

    At the bottom of Fall Down looking up. With Rick a hundred or so yards behind me. I dropped it down a gear and found a nice comfortable effort I thought I could maintain to the top. A few switchbacks into the climb. I heard Rick yell something up to me from below. I couldn't make out what it was though. Either, "Good Job" or "Go Dave" I wasn't sure all I know is that when I reached the top and got into the aide station there. Which, wasn't quite set up yet. Rick was no longer behind me.

    From here things went pretty smooth running wise with one exception. Truckin along. Completely in the zone after leaving the aide station around the 11 mile mark. I had come to a three way fork in the road. It was then I realized I'd missed a turn somewhere. I spent some time looking down each direction just to make certain I wasn't missing a trail marker. Nope, I was off course. After wasting what felt like a good four or five minutes. I had made it back to where I had missed my turn. Expecting the course to follow some kind of trail. It became clear why I missed the turn in the first place. The trail flags went completely up the side of this very steep short hill. In Barkleyesque fashion right through the freakin underbrush.

    Once I got myself back on track. Instead of panicking, I just kept my cool. I was running good and I knew my second loop would be ruined if I tried to get back what was lost too quickly. Really the goal was just to get back through the start/finish area with enough of a gap to be in and out of there before anybody else caught site of me. In the past I've had the tendency to linger at this one so I was completely focused on getting what I needed and getting back on course. It was starting to warm up quickly now by this point but I had two more miles or so to go before I could get back to my wife's aide station and sit for a minute while I took care of myself.

    Coming into the 18 mile aide station. Greg Burger was waiting at the edge of the parking lot asking me what I needed ready to grab my bottles. I had Jess get me a fresh bandanna with ice. She handed me a gel she already had opened for me. I sat down in the chair. Slammed the gel and peeled off my wet shoes and socks. In less than a minute I had my brand spankin new Speedcrosses on. Fresh out of the box with dry socks to match. It's a huge boost on this course knowing that your shoes are dry and light with 14 miles to go. Greg had my bottles ready to go. I wiped the sweat and grime off with a towel. Grabbed a hat full of ice. Said some big thank yous and I was out. Two minutes flat. That was the fastest I'd ever did that much in that little amount of time. I'd practiced that a few times on a couple of my training runs but didn't expect it to go so smooth during an actual race.

    Back out on the trail. 18 miles in the bank now and still feeling pretty damn good. I wanted this feeling to last all damn day but deep down I knew at some point. The wheels were going to eventually fall off. I still had a good bit of energy left and I wanted to make the most of it that I could. So the decision was made to make one more surge to gain a little extra ground on the rest of the field. The terrain between Jess and Greg's aide station and Hedgehog Hill is a bunch of little rollers. If I could keep a relaxed but consistent effort all the way to the bottom of Hedgehog. I might be able to have enough to run up the damn hill when I got there.

    In what felt like no time at all there I was at the bottom staring up. I just gritted my teeth and said out loud. "YOU and ME." This time around there wasn't any big powerful strides from me. I had it dialed way back. Short choppy quick feet that must have resembled somebody trying to walk barefoot across hot coals. I wasn't exactly running but I wasn't exactly going backwards or stopping to stretch out a calf or a hammy either. Slowly but surely I made it to the top without losing a huge chunk of time. Over the top now I got a little break cruising down to the bottom of Pancake Hill. On the way down however is when I noticed the first signs of the 'ol transmission beginning to strip out on me. Just before I made the left onto Pancake. I felt a twinge in my left calf. I ignored it at first but halfway up the steady little climb I had to break down and really walk for the first time. Not because I wanted to but because I HAD too. If I could get to the top. I could suck it up on the downhill road section into the aide station at 20 something So I could take corrective action.

    What a relief it was to get here. The ladies working the aide station were like Godsends. They revived me and brought me back from what would've been a big time meltdown. I had my bottles filled with ice and water. Then one of them asked If I wanted a pitcher of ice water poured over me. YES PLEASE!!! No sooner did they do that my heart wanted to jump straight out of my chest. That got the blood pumping again and pumping cold too. My core temp must have dropped 20 degrees. Instantly I felt like I did a couple of hours earlier. I grabbed some S-Caps for the cramps said thank you and kept moving.

    Alright here we go man. Lets get this done. I had some runnable trail coming up and a little jaunt across another open field at the bottom of the spillway. As soon as I get that behind me. I'd look behind me for the first time. For two reasons. One, I wasn't sure where the hell everybody else was at and two. If I looked back and didn't see anybody. It would allow me a bit of a break on the climb up Fall Down Hill. Just into the treeline on the other side of the spillway. I looked through the trees back across the field. Fully expecting to see someone flying down the hill on the other side. I was relieved. Really relieved to not see anything but an empty field.

    I wasn't sure how far ahead of everyone else I was. It was still way too early to start speculating. So I kept telling myself I was not more than four or five minutes at best. Which meant that for no reason do I walk unless it's to fight off a cramp. Up, up and away I went. Starting the climb of the "Col du Fall Down Hill" for the second time. This time it was all I could do to KEEP from falling down. I would run as long as I could then my calf would cramp. Back to running then my hamstring would start barking at me. I made it though.

    Walking up that last little steep pitch into the aide station. I was getting real hungry but I couldn't put down any solid food. I was starting to bonk pretty hard. I forced down a banana and a few orange quarters. Filled my bottles with ice and kept moving. It was about 4 miles to the next stop and maybe I would be in the mood to eat something there. That was my new goal. I had a real easy bridal trail section to get through. Then a nice little downhill on the new boyscout route before somehow trying to find the strength to drag my ass back up to the road and down into aide station.

    I was really running delirious now. I damn near missed the turn back towards the boyscout section and would've if it wasn't for a couple of runners in the 15 mile race coming back towards me. Ahh Shit! I got myself turned around and heading in the right direction. Down the road into the boyscout section. The run down was great the first time through. This time, like everything else on the second loop it had a completely different look and feel. The gloves were off and I wasn't having fun anymore. I was starting to worry a little at this point. Still cramping and still hungry. I tried to work with the cramps the best I could. The S-Caps I had taken a few miles back hadn't done anything for me. So I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the trusty old standby.

     Here is where I made my second big mistake of the day. In that pocket I had some rock salt and for some reason I decided at that moment it would be a good idea to take three pretty good sized chunks out of the little baggie I had. Put them in my mouth and swallow them down like they were vitamins. I was cramping really really bad at this point. My thinking was that if one chunk would do the trick. Three would do it much faster. Wrong....Big mistake. It was a little over a quarter mile into the 27 mile aide station. As I stumbled in. The volunteer asked if I was O.K.? I think so I said? I wasn't quite sure. I was so damn delirious by this point I wasn't sure of anything. One thing I did know though. Is that rock salt I had just taken was about to make a comeback. I started to get the feeling like I needed to hurl. There wasn't enough time to make it to the trees or a trash can. It was no use trying to hold it in either. So I just let it rip over the side of the railing in the shelter house. In front of God and everybody. The cool thing was that it wasn't once but THREE times.

    I could hear the gasps and groans from all the bystanders. Arrghhh, Oooo, Ohhhh!!! I wanted to laugh because it must have of looked pretty damn funny but couldn't because my stomach hurt too bad from the convulsing. I feared I might start hurling again and start a full on Barf-o-Rama right there in the aide station. Wouldn't that of been a sight for the next runner coming round the corner to see.

    The volunteer asked if I was O.K. I told him I felt a lot better now. Sitting down was out of the question. If I was gonna lose this thing it was going to be on my feet and not sitting in an aide station. Feeling sorry for myself about the rookie decision I made with the salt. I apologized for the mess and thanked them. Then lit out for the trail head.

    Back on course yet again. I really did feel much better and I could feel it in my legs. The queasiness was gone and my head had cleared too. I could concentrate on what I was supposed to be doing again. Running my ass off for the finish line. First order of business though was to get the fluid back into me. Seeing as I just lightened my load by about 30 ounces a few minutes earlier. I walked the bushwhack section up the hill that I missed on the first loop. Drinking the whole way up. Once at the top I knew I had a runnable road section to connect back over to the Wyandotte Triangle Loop. Knowing that If I got there with only five minutes over the person in second place that it was pretty much a done deal.

     Coming off the road I got myself lined up again for the approach into the aide station at the Triangle. I had my bottle filled and left one at the station because the trail loops you back up to the aide station again before you turn left and head for home. Snaking my way through the many switchbacks in the Triangle I finally made it up, out and back to the aide station. Here it was. The moment of truth. As they handed me the bottle I left them a few minutes earlier they told me I had a five minute gap on the guy in second place. I asked Danny who it was? Rick? Greg? Todd? He said he wasn't sure. It was some skinny guy they have never seen before? What???

   O.K. So that wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear. I thought for sure it would've been Rick since he was the only one that was up front earlier in the race that I didn't catch site of in the Boyscout loop a few miles back. Who was this guy and just how fast was he going? I was clueless. So I did what I do best. Run Scared. It happens every time I have a lead late in a race with only a couple miles to go. This is where I do some of my best work. The adrenaline takes over and the pace gets quicker.

    Two and a half miles to go to the finish line now. I glanced at my watch and it said 4:43:XX. It was going to be close. My pre race goal off 4:55:00 was out the window now. If I could keep moving though through all the mud pits on the bridal trails. I still might be able to crack 5:00:00. I thought how I'd like to have those four minutes I lost on the first loop back right now. I thought about the bonehead maneuver with the rock salt costing me a minute. As I started to think about all this crap. My pace started to slip away. A little under two to go now and I came up behind some 15 mile runners. Right as they were getting to a gigantic mud hole. Still motivated by fear there was no time to slow up and wait for them to get around it. So right up the middle it was. When I made it across to the other side. I noticed something wasn't quite right. Looking down at my right foot I discovered I had lost a shoe back in the mud pit. Ahhhgggg. Damn!!! Of all places to lose a wheel it had to be here and now. So for the better part of the next minute was wasted fishing my shoe out of the soup.

     Just like that all hopes of running under five hours was over. The adrenaline rush was still there but only just. It didn't quite have the same zest as it started out with. so for the rest of the race I focused on getting over the last couple little hills and out into the open meadow before the finish line. 

     Coming out of the woods and across the meadow. With the finish line in sight. I took a deep breath and exhaled. Of course like always the last few hundred yards become as pain free as the first few hundred yards. Making the turn off the steel bridge into the finishing chute. The first person I saw. Was my good buddy and training partner Darin Schneidewind. Totally pumped up now. I yelled to him **** Who? What was his name??? Realizing at that moment. It was just like Babe Ruth. Calling his shot. Then drilling it out of the park.

    After I crossed the finish line I was surrounded by family and friends. My wife. Ben and Sophia. The Knowles and the Schneidewinds. The people who have been in my corner all along. The same ones who believed in what I could do when I really get the bit between my teeth. Running to my full potential. As well as those friends with SALOMON who support and sponsor me that couldn't be there. Yet supply me with the goods that allow me to run at the top of my game. All of you I thank from the bottom of my heart.

    All the hard work. All those miles and miles. Running in the unforgiving Midwest summertime heat. Hill repeat after hill repeat in the jungle behind the Governors Mansion. The long runs curled over on the side of the road throwing up. It was all totally worth it. Would I do it again? Would I work this hard for the next one? You bet I will! Seven weeks ago. A sleeping giant was awaken and he woke up hungry.....