In awe

Tag: DNF

  • [688] DC Peaks 50 – Utah (dnf)

    Uffdah Utah, Another DNF — a did not finish race, but it was a blessing in disguised.

    My 50 mile DC Peaks race in Salt Lake City ended as soon as I started after 10-ish into it at the first aid station, due to hypothermia.  I wanted to continue but the staff noticed my uncontrollable shivering and decided to pull me out of the race. There is no arguing for a medical reason. We never argue with volunteers since that would be an automatic DNF and ban from all future races. We always treat volunteers well. 

    At the time, I was debating inside me if to continue or not before being pulled. The staff made the decision easier for me.  There was no more ifs, only obey and accept the outcome. The decision was then out of my hand. I was shivering uncontrollably even long after getting back to the hotel and after changing into my warm and dry clothes.  It was always the right call to be cut for health reason.  And I was glad I did not continue. Who knows what would have happened if I did not get warm and dry and were out on the trail for another few hours before I get to the next aid station.  It would likely have ended in a medical emergency or worse. So it was definitely a right call though the decision was not for me to make at the time.

    The race was originally to be started at 5, and I originally planned for an even earlier start at 4 am (which was an option at this race).  Due to the wet weather condition, the course was rerouted to a lower elevation and thus should have been an “easier” course and the start time was pushed back to 6 am for everyone (in the 50 miler). 

    I showed up, and felt I was appropriately dressed for the occasion with layered clothes and 3 rain jackets with me.  I only had one on at the time, with the other two packed away.  Wind was blowing but I felt warm enough and a bit hot as I started running.  I incorrectly believed that soon the sun would be up and temperature would continue to rise and it would have been enough and even with a little rain added, it was not anything I could not handle as I have done this many times in the past.  That proved wrong real fast as the rain and cold wind started to beat down on us.

    The rain started when I was about a mile in.  It was a light rain at first and I had on a light rain jacket.  It was still sufficient at the time.  Then the wind blew on my wet clothes.  The thing is running in the rain would get us wet regardless what we wear.  Pretty soon, what I wore was insufficient to keep the cold draft from getting in. 

    Our route for the first 10 miles was an out and back lollipop with some rolling hills and one major climb near the turn around.  It was nothing too technical.  Most of the time, we were on the exposed side of the ridge overlooking houses below, with occasionally dipped under treelines and into tree covers.  Those time were great, being sheltered away from the rain and wind.  But the sheltered portions of the course were short and few in between.  At the end of the outbound, morning came and we climbed our first mountain (pass) maybe about couple thousands of feet upward with the gray sky above.  It was not too hard.  But we were met with the really cold rain, and it might have been sleets or freezing rain, plus the wind blowing at us constantly and we had nowhere to hide.  My temperature started to drop and to me it was no longer fun.

    Our pace was slow on the ascent.  Soon, in my mind I was thinking how much longer before we get back and was wishing to be back in a sheltered place.  My hands though had both mitten and glove on were soaked and cold.  The gloves were not waterproof. How I wished I had them someway somehow, even if they were kitcken sink gloves (as a friend of mine wore them in a race at the Reverse Ring before and how ridiculous he looks I thought and now I could not be happier if I had those on), just something to keep my hands dry and warm. My pants too were not waterproof either.  Legs were of a lesser concern. Still, they were losing heat and having them covered and keeping them warm would have done me much good.  At the time, I knew my shirts were wet.  Running in the rain, you get wet regardless what you wear.  The key is having clothing that could still provide warmth even when they are wet. I was longing for my fleece jacket even a puffy jacket would have be good but I did not have those with me.  They were in the car, back at home. After a few hours plastered by my icy wet shirt, my body no longer could maintain its core temperature.

      At the time, I did not know the actual temperature, but when I was rescued and on my way back to the hotel, the car temperature reading was 42F at 10:30 AM.  So, around 6-7 AM, the windchill and wet temperature was probably around 32-35 F. I did not have much winter gear on.  I was running as if it were spring or cooler summer night.  The temperature might have been even lower at the pass or top of the ridge. I was really lucky, my body did not give out even earlier on.

    I got into the aid station at mile 10-12-ish.  Seeing the two blazing fire bins was a welcome sight.  Rain seemed to pour harder as we huddled under the aid station’s canopy.  Nobody wanted to leave the comfortable aid station and get back into the rain.  Everyone was staying close.  My first order of business was to eat something and to stand next to the fire for some warmth. However, after 10-15 minutes there, I was not getting any warmer.  Volunteers helped me with my hydration vest and clothes. I was asking around who would be quitting there.  Everyone was saying hell no, but none wanted to leave either.  Some eventually left and continued on with their races. But most of us were just standing there hunching over the fire. 

    It was not a crew aid station, so no friends or families were around.  How I wish my crew and friend would be there anyhow, so at least I could go inside a car, which is generally a no no too, a ground for DQ (disqualification).  The next best thing was to put on some of drier clothes I had brought along, like the rain poncho.  I had to get my hydration vest off first that is under my rain jacket to reach my poncho that was stored in one of the pockets. So I had to put off the jacket before taking off my hydration vest.  From the vest, I got out the rain poncho. It all crumpled up into a small pod and it had to be expanded and fluffed out.  This was taking a bit long time to do since my hands no longer obeying me. Everything was wet and sticking and it was hard to take things off or put on.

    It was a bit too late to put on a rain poncho, but I felt I might give/trap more heat if I have it on.  I did pack a hodini in my hydration vest, but again it was too late for that.  I did not bother with it.  If I had that on earlier, it might have saved my race. So because I was wet and cold and was getting colder every minute. It took me maybe half an hour or so to put everything back on at the aid station even with couple people around me helping.  I think the staff realized by then, I was in no condition to go back out onto the trail and thus they pulled me a few minutes after checking on me.  

    At the time, I think they also were talking about calling S-R (search and rescue) for some runners they had not accounted for.  So they did not want to risk me going back out either.

    I was shaken like leaves from head to toes and was miserable.  The words from the aid station captain was a welcome relieved to me.

    I was grateful they also asked someone to put me in a van afterward and turned the heat on high while I called and waited for my crew and friend to pick me up.  I was shivering the whole time during the wait.  Even talking was hard.  I pretty much continue shaking even hours later.

    There were others who came in with me and who did not leave the aid station either.  I think they later ended up dropping there.  They were not as cold as I was, but the weather was not great.  Throughout the day, the rain continued.  The temperature did rise to around 52-53 by noon before dropping back down to low 40s. It would have been a very long miserable day even if I could continue on had I not been pulled from the race or suffered from hypothermia.

    Lesson learned, dress warmly especially when it is winter/fall rain.  I brought rain pants but at the last minute before the race start, I decided not to use it since they were baggy and would get in the way of running. 

    I could have put on more layers early in the race.  I knew it was going to rain, and I should have put on the rain poncho at the start or soon after the rain started instead of waiting till I got to the aid station when it was already too late.  Again, not saying whether the outcome might have been any different, but definitely would have increased the odds of me remaining in the race.  It is what it is.

    Did the altitude limit my running?  I think it did.  After 5 miles, people started running on the downhills on the way back to the aid station at the start, I found myself unable to run and keep up with them even though I did not think they were moving very fast, which was very rare for me not to be able to keep up.  It was definitely a sign something was wrong. I think the altitude was affecting my ability to run.  Another explantion was I was already worned out from the rain, wind and the cold temperature and my body had overspent all its energy.  

    So it was a very short race for me.

    The positive outcome was I got out of the rain before many other runners.  I was back at the hotel for a good rest and then a good long meal.  We did go back to the course to one of the aid stations to pick up my drop bag.  It was good to see some runners were still running/moving strong.

    For lunch, we got to try a Korean hot soup in Salt Lake City’s Chinatown and Galbi (flavored grilled meat).   Then we went for some good tea and dessert at a bakery next door named 85C, I like anything hot that day.  Too bad they did not served hot ginger tea. Finally we spent a nice evening to unwind at a friend’s house before flying home very early the next morning. In all, it was a running trip became a vacation.  If not for me dropping out, none of those would have happened.

    As for the trip, all was not lost, since I went out to Salt Lake couple days before the race, I was able to hike some of trails on Thrusday afternoon after we landed.   That was all worth it.  As for Friday, I we did not do much other than having lunch at the Rooster (got to try Utah beer) with a local friend and went for bib pickup. 

    The slower pace of life rather than the DC rush-rush was refreshing.  I have an intense schedule for the rest of the month ahead, and so the 10 mile run actually put me in a good position for some later uncoming races.  It definitely would prepare me for a winter race I want to do in February (The Reverse Ring and possibly a Massanutten’s Revenge) in term what kind of clothes I needed to wear.

    Hiking around Spring Tunnel (near the finish area).  It was such good weather couple days before the race but quickly turned gloomy on the race day.  I got a good sunburn too for being out too long. Talk about a quick change of the weather.

    I do want to go back again.  There are so many other races on my schedule, I am not sure if I would be able to do so next year.  From this race, I was introduced to Goat Rattler (Ogden 100), which was either hosted by the same race organization or related.  I wanted to attempt it in the future, possible be next year if the stars aligned.  September though is a very busy month for racing. They say it is harder than the Bear or Wasatch 100.  So, the reason I was in Utah I miss those big mountains in the west when I was first encountered them last year at Wasatch 100. Definitely, I want to be back in Utah for more.

  • [683] Eastern States 100, a trail running experience

    My motivation for running this was the name Eastern States.  As I have done Western States 100 last year, it seems fitting to try my hand on the east coast version (note, they are not related but the name). I met some runners at the bib pickup who tried to do both races in the same year. It is something I would go for too.

    Short version: I ran, It was hard, and I did not finish.  I learned from my experience to enjoy on the trail.

    I am familiar with the race organization and know they put up “fun” trail races.  Fun means hard.  I ran their Rock n the Knob marathon couple years ago, and it is considered the hardest marathon in the area.  One that took me 8-9 hours to finish and it ran like a 50k.  Note, in recent years the race has relabeled itself as a 50k. I have expected Eastern to be the same level of hard.

    It seems just a few weeks ago I finished Vermont 100.  The last couple weeks since have bern a blur.  I guess I mostly rested.  I did two weekends (8 hours total) of trail work to fulfill my volunteer hour requirements for another 100 mile race I will be doing soon in the fall. 

    Life has been busy and running was pretty much nonexistent since  Vermont 100.  In fact, I don’t think I have trained much except for couple weekend runs this whole year.  Going into Eastern States, I knew it would be a struggle.  I always thought I had time to train over the summer once Old Dominion was done.  But after three successive 100 mile races, Old Dominion, Vermont and Eastern States, I wondered where my time has gone. Advice to my future self: train for hills.

    The race has a 36 hour cutoff and thus requires about maintaining a minimal 20-21 min pace.  To me this doable. It’s a walkable pace.

    My plan was to run a 17 min pace first third, then a 19 min pace second third and slow to a 22-24 min pace the final third.  It should allow me to finish on time.  With the last two 100 mile races, I thought I have a good chance.

    I usually have a fast walking pace and I was hoping this might get me through the whole race.  It was a big bet I know.

    The first mile started on the road outside PA state park of Little Pine Creek.  We ran a few miles to spread the crowd and everyone had a quick 12 min or faster pace. I was at the very back but still did a fast pace.

    When we reached the MST trail, there were a crowd of runners at the bottom of the trailhead waiting to climb the stairs up.   We milled around a few minutes (10-15 mins) waiting. Some went for bathroom.  Families and friends were also around cheering us because it was inside a campground. I have expected this to be the first hard climb. I read in other reports that most people could summit it before the sunrise.

    The first stair climb was not the hard climb I had expected.  We had a mile of rocky and knarly trail (MST – Mid State Trail) but it was not too bad with fresh legs.  I took it slowly and I was the last few runners left. I was not worried and knew methodically I would catch up to people ahead over time. My goal that morning was not to fall too far behind from the bulk of runners.

    I knew I was in trouble when I got to the really first climb, I was out of breath after a few steps and it did not seem to be any steeper than trails I used to do.  Everyone around me seemed to be full of energy and tackling it with ease.  The trail was steep, but it was not straight up sttep.  My heart rate was through the roof though.  I chose to stop for a break. My glasses were fogging up. Then second and third break before making it all the way up.  It was still early in the race, so I could burn some time. The few slower runners behind me passed me by.  There might be only one or two runners farther back.  I did not want to be the last one. It was kind of embarrassing.

    It was two hours later since the start of the race by the time I was up on the ridge.  I felt better after the many breaks up on the first climb and I now could move a bit faster.  Luckily on subsequent climbs, I did not have the same trouble.  The trail gradually evened out and I caught back up to the five or six people who were ahead of me.  Some were people I know such as Samantha from our running club and Anuj (gentleman I met and finished together at VT100). They lifted my spirit as I aimed to get to the first aid station soon around mile 7. I had high hope to run with them for a long way throughout the day, but soon they were falling behind me after a brief conversation.

    The first AS was a water only station.  My pack was still good with water or so I thought but having heard the next one is a long way to go, I stopped to fill up.  They filled it to the top.  It was good because I found out I drank almost all with only tiny bit left on the way up.

    I hit the second AS on my expected pace mid morning, though not at 17 min pace but 19 and I could live with that.  I told myself this race is hard, but as long as I maintain a 19-20 min pace, I would finish. I was aiming to gain about a min or half a min per mile and I aimed to lower my stoppage time at the aid stations. By now, I fell into a group of people about my pace, one of them was a mother and her daughter.  We would be together until we dropped from the race the next morning.

    The trail was still knarly and to me it was not really runable yet.  People I talked to told me that the later sections would be easier on the footing.  Climbs will still be there but less technical.

    Indeed, the trail became less rocky and more runnable.  I picked back up the pace a bit and arrived to the first crewed station, pretty much on target of a 19-20 min pace but not the 17 min pace I had wanted. I knew to finish this race, I would have to be quick and efficient.  I went through the AS less than 3 mins and was out again.  I was happy to see me crew and friends. I entered the race in the Solo Division (meaning no crew or pacer, but won’t mind to switch to crew if needed as the race permitted us to switch midway). 

    Because I was quick at the AS, I caught up with a lot of other runners who had stayed 10 minutes or more longer.  One was Fredinald.  Fredinald had done the race 10 years ago and today was hoping only to reached 50 miles.  We hiked the next hill together and chatted. I knew a lot of people around me were struggling with the pace.  I felt I need to get ahead of them because people like Fredinald had no intention to finish, which did not bode well. 

    My goal was either to run past them or if they could stay my pace, and use them as a companion.  We were all in the same boat of being slow.  I put my faith in my hiking ability and hoped that I would not suffer the same fate to quit the race too early.  I hoped to go more than 50 miles.

    I gradually picked off others and passed runners including our local running friends, Daisy and Jeremy (who did finish).  I know I was not out of the woods yet with a 20 min pace, but at least I was gaining 1 min every mile.  But passing people let me know I was doing the right pace.  I hope by nightfall, I would gain an hour from the cutoff.

    By afternoon, on a long section to Hyner Runs we had several long runnable sections and people around were picking up the pace and passing me.  There were people by the look of it were trying too hard (hard breathing and out of shape) and I was wondering if they would finish.  I was still maintaining my walking pace because that was the best I could do but I was able to still pass people. I was surprised to reach Hyner well ahead of my plan 20 min pace.  Actually the original plan was to get there by 6:10 pm but with me just mostly walking, I set my goal of getting there by 7:30, and I got there at 6:50, 40 mins ahead.  That was still a huge win.  I took a few minutes at the AS and headed out before 7 pm, ahead of many runners who came in ahead of me.  My crew and friend said she would meet me at the next crew location at Tomb Flats. 

    It was reassuring to know she would be there in the middle of the night.  I figured, I am likely to get there between 1 am to 2 am.  I wouldn’t believe that I later arrived near 3 am (2:45-2:50), behind my intended pace.

    Usually I do better at night or so I believed.  I reached the halfway point, mile 51 at 10 pm.  I was still good on pace.  I could finish the race in 34 hours if I maintained it. I have been passing people just by walking and not rushing. 

    However, by midnight, things got hard.  I now couldn’t recall the specifics that slowed me down. The trail was harder to find. I was getting sleepy.  People whom I passed earlier throughout the day now passing me back.  I did not mind, but I knew I was not pulling it through. 

    In the middle of the night around 2 am, I met a friend we ran together before in another race (I think at  MMT), he also battling sleepiness from fatique. We both decided to take a 5 min nap on the side of the trail before continue on.

    I knew we did not have much time. It was more a gamble.  If I could freshen up, I might have a chance.  It was about two miles to the next aid station, so I urged my new friend if we could run for it because the cutoff was soon.  So we ran.  I think it was more than 2 miles, felt like 4 but eventually we reached the big river at Tomb Flats. (I called it the Rocky Chucky; it was probably the crossing of Pine Creek). My crew was there cheering me on as I crossed.  It was not an easy crossing because the stones underfoot were slick. There was a rope but it was not taunt and no other people were there to anchor it like in Western States. The rope was there as a guide but not so much as for weight bearing. The runner in front of me was falling and moving the rope around and it caused me to lose my footing too. Eventually, I got across.

    It was the station with my first drop bag.  I had my dry shirt and socks there, but I felt if I stop to change, I might not be able to start back up. Note, generally consensus was volunteers at earlier stations were snappier in offering runners their drop bags and more attentive.  Not putting any shade since now it is middle of the night and we were near closing time.  I didn’t want my crew to help yet since I was intended to run solo.

      I was 15 minutes from the cutoff.  So I went out after getting some water and food.  An aid station volunteer gave me a small can of coffee, a cold brew.  Looking back, it might have helped run better if I did change out the wet clothes and rest a bit like some of my friends in the race did.  But with only 10-15 minutes before the cutoff, it was just too scary to sleep with your crew looking on.

    If I thought, the time on the trail between 2-3 am was bad, wait till it was 3-5 am.  Now I was actually sleep walking.  I had no idea how I got through this.  The race seemed slipping by me.  My former friend who ran with me down to Tomb Flats was no longer with me.  I took another 5 min sleep break on the side of the trail and then forced myself up again.  It was a long way up and mostly just climbing.  The sleep did me good for maybe an hour before I was sleepy again.  Amazingly, I caught up to the earlier sleepy friend I met on the trail, and he was just as sleepy as I was, so we both stopped one more to sleep.  He slept on a rock to the left and I slept on the rock to the right.  And now a lot of runners were passing us by.  Some exclaimed, some just silently avoided us.  I knew too much sleep, we wouldn’t make the next cutoff.  Once again, after 5 mins, I got up.  This time I abandoned my new friend and ran like if the devil was after me.  As I have done a lot of races, you kind of knew when you are in trouble with pacing and being the last one back. My spider sense was hurrying me to run for it.

    God was with me and I sang as I ran through the woods.  By now whether I could make the next cuttoff or not, it does not matter.  I just want to have a good morning run.  The trail was empty of runners by now.   I knew soon it we would have daylight. I was pretty sure I was the last runner.  The rest wouldn’t make it.

    5 am came, I have survived the race for 24 hours.  6 am was sunrise.  I passed two gentlemen stumbling slowly forward.  I knew they likely wouldn’t make the cutoff.  They cheered me when they saw my pace.  I was a bit glad, I finally was making progress.  The next cutoff was at 6:30. Somehow by God’s grace I made it through at 6:27.  I had no time to fill up water (well I could have but chose not to).  I had some water left in my pack and the volunteer filled my handheld bottle and off I went.  I knew I would be out of water in the next stretch. 

    With the morning sunrise, I had new energy.  There were now a lot of people I was passing, dozen or so runner in a group usually 2-3.  I passed one after another as I made my way up.  People who recognized me cheered me on and exclaimed I made it through the last cutoff.  I was definitely proud of that.  They had assumed I would not make it through the night because they were ones who found me sleeping on the trail.

    From Tomb Flats to Cedar Runs was 10 long miles.  And Cedar Runs to Blackwell was 8 miles.  This was another long stretch! There’s nothing else but to hang onto my pace.  Like it has been the last 24 hours, as long as I could maintain a 20 mins pace, I could finish. Note, of all the people I passed, only myself and another lady would make it to the next cutoff.

    My feet started to have blisters since I did not change shoes or socks Tomb Flats (mile 62). I had my second drop bag at Blackwells, mile 80, with dry socks and shoes and was hoping I could change them out.  Somewhere a mile out from Blackwells, my GPS goofed up.  There were some weird flagging seemed to indicate a turn but I found no where for turning so I lost some 5-10 minutes going back and forth in determining the right way to go.  My frustration level was high and there were some runners about to caught up from behind.  I knew, I needed to get to the AS by 9:15 and I was seeing my clock winding down.  My best guess was it might be still two miles away. 

    Two female runners passed me, so I asked them for the distance, they said they were expecting 4.5 miles left.  Uff-dah and they were booking it.  I knew I would have to run hard to make it to the station.  So after them I chased.  I caught up to them on a downhill and I could hear the people cheering from the aid station we had maybe 10-15 mins left on the clock.  This was a huge gain from 3 mins at a prior station.  I encouraged the two runners saying it only takes 5 minutes to get to the AS.  So I ran again and arrived at the station with 8 minutes to spare. 

    My pacer was ready to pace me out.  I competed as a Solo runner (no pacer) but here, I knew I needed all the helps I could get. It was time to be crewed and paced and gave up on my solo status. It would have been good if I asked for my drop bag. My mind at the time was to get out quickly.

    My water has been out for a long time.  So, I had my pack filled.  Not sure if I ate something.  I must have. As for changing shoes or socks, it was too late.  No one was asking if I wanted to change, I would have said no either way.  I reached mile 80, and there would be 24 miles left and have until 5 pm to reach it. 

    Here at Blackwells AS going out seemed like a giant maze.  As usual, I asked which way is out.  Volunteers pointed in a general direction and I was sure they gave verbal directions too.  I had my pacer so I was not worry about finding the trail. 

    This is on me.  I should have slow down or stop to fix my gps but I was pumping with adrenaline of having made the cutoff again.  So I was rushing out. 

    Other runners later too attested that volunteers at the particular station said to go up the road, and some of us really went up the road instead of turning onto the trail on the left.

    So up the road we went.  I started mumbling that I hadn’t seen any flagging at all.  My companion/safety runner said she saw them just ahead.   

    All the warning bells were going off by now, because I haven’t seen any flags but was assured by my friend that she had.  I decided to turn around disregarding the two other runners who were running with us.

    Going back downhill was easier than going up hill.  But the time lost was pretty much not recoverable.  I checked the watch and it was 9:40, we were way off course, for me, that is too late.  We did find the trail at the bottom of the hill.

    The sweepers caught up to us.  The only way was to go forward (I was considering turning around back to the aid station at the time, so that I could sleep).  The next aid station was 4.5 miles away.  It was an awesome climb.  I finally get to slow down and enjoyed the view.  From 10 to 1 pm.  We trekked on.  At time, I felt sorry that I was the last runner.  But God was humorous and merciful.  Right before we reached the aid station Sky Rock, not so much rocks but it was up up and up in the sky, we stumbled on a runner laying on the trail.  The sweepers went and worked on the troubled runner who said he has not eaten for the last 7 hours.  The sweepers told us to continue heading to the aid station.  People at the aid station sent a medic team down.  Everything ended well.  The poor runner was rescued. I was relieved that I was not the one laying on the trail.

    My 100 mile (103 actually) ended at mile 85.  There would be 17-18 miles left.  The volunteers were kind enough to feed us with mellons and fruits and we eventually had our ride back to the finish. 

    The rest of the day was spent  sleeping, eating, and cheering as runners came in at the finish including a few of my friends, Ike, Scott, and Jeremy. Scott ran it 10 times or something. I also made a new friend at the finish with another runner who also ran it 10 times.

    Is there a lesson learned? Probably.  I could have trained better of not getting behind on the pacing early on.  My friend teased me of trying to wing a 100 miler without much training especially a hard one.

    It is always hard to catch back into the game once falling behind.

    As for staying strong or up during the night, that is always hard. I could have carried some caffeine pills.  That was on me of not having a counter measure for sleep deprivation ahead of time.

    Third, probably most important, is stay alert and be reactive to turn around quickly the moment the path was doubtful. I did talk too much and thus missed the turn.

    Fourth related to it, fix the gps immediately, that was one reliable tool to stay on course.

    Fifth, course study!  I studied the course turn by turn the first 50 miles and but not for the second half. So it was on me.  I should have familiar at least of all the aid station’s entrants and exits.

    Bless the Lord, there were many instances where I could have tripped over and got hurt badly but always at the last minute, I regained my footing and did some acrobatic stunts. I finished relatively healthy, minus some blisters and sunburn. I had a great time both hiking and then the early Sunday hour run, with renewed strength. That was my best moment of the race to catch up from behind. 

    I was thankful to have a friend and pacer ready to jump in at any moment when I was in distress.  As to whether I could finish in my condition, it was hard to say.  I was barely hanging on. Time was slipping.  There were 8 hours left and two more aid stations to go. Even couple of friends who were stronger runners than me finished with only 10-15 minutes to spare. It would have been a very hard push to the finish.

    The two female runners, who got lost along with me, they finished.  I salute them for having the true courage and strength of not giving up and overcame a big setback.  I do wonder…what needed to push that hard.  I knew I did not have it in me that day to do the heroic thing.  It was my weakness for possibly giving up too soon. My pacer did tell me to run like them.

    Yes, DNF hurts, then again we have to be thankful of what we already achieved. We all entered a race always hoping we would finish.  There were a lot I can take away.  I had a nice day on the trail and I had good trip going there and coming back. I run to meet people and I did.  I run for the experience.  It was a good experience. Thankful I got a chance to do it and ran with some very good friends. 

  • [678] OSS/CIA 50 mile (DNF)

    Two years ago I did this race (report) and I liked it a lot.  Have I ever not liked a race? Last year I volunteered. This year, even with an overloaded schedule I wanted to runnit again. Maybe a bit of hubris on my part that I could finish it even right after a 100 mile race. It is a local race in my area on a trail now I have known like the back of my hands, having done couple hundred mile races there, i.e., the Devil Dog 100. 

    OSS/CIA is a kind of celebrity race in that I could brag about the OSS officers (precursor of the CIA) used to train there.  There’s another place near our area that has a celebrity status, and that is Camp David, where there are trails nearby and which we will be doing a 50k the following weekend. 

    Don’t take my words, I don’t know where Camp David is before writing this (a quick Google search did show where), but some say it is somewhere near there and I did see security presence when we passed by the camp entrance as we drove from Owens Creek to Gambrill Park. 

    In this report, we will focus on the OSS/CIA 50.  For me it was pretty cool to say I run in the Prince William Forest for the OSS/CIA 50.

    This year like any other years, I did not get into Highland Sky, where many people I know went to, including my good friend David. I am happy for him to finish it.  I was not sad to miss out on that race though and was glad to take this other race instead.  Sometimes it does feel like this was the second best option.  Some of my running friends including Charlie, Randy, Brian, Eric and many others were running in this one too. 

    I was nervous on days leading up to the race whether I would be ready in time.  As some knew, I just finished a 100 mile (well nearly finished) and I was still recovering from it.  From the 100 miler I injured my right foot, maybe pulled a muscle, or some kind of inflamation going on or shin splint. My take was I kicked a rock too hard and pulled something. My foot was swelling and it hurt even when while walking.  I was hoping for a miraculous healing by race day so I could run it.  By Wednesday, I felt it was like 50% better.  Thursday, the pain went away but still felt a bit sore. And by Friday, I could feel I could have a bit mobility.  I was hoping by Saturday, I could run again.

    My friend who offered to pace me at the race checked in with me one more time on Saturday morning.  The race was at night, starting at 6 pm and would continue till 8:30 am Sunday.  I told him it is no good, it still has pain when I touch it and when I flex it in a certain position.  I knew there would be no way I could run on that foot and finish the race.  I told him not to bother coming out to support me because likely, there was no way I would be able to finish.

    Still I held the hope maybe I could do just 1 loop (25 miles) and maybe still make the cutoff for a second loop.  I showed up early at the race to get ready.  Friends showed up, we chatted and when it was time for the race, I went out. 

    I was quickly became the last person a few minutes after crossing the start line.  I was pretty much limping out.  There were a father and son with a dog in front of me.  Soon they let me pass.  I did not think that was a good idea because likely they will pass me back.  The son seemed strong but he waited for his father who was maybe in his 60s and either the dog too which was holding them back or they actually preferred doing it at a slower pace, I went on ahead. 

    The pain started to intensify after a mile. On a scale of 1-10, I put it reaching between 2.5-3.  I still could bear it but it was not fun running while in pain. I could turn back, which would be the quickest way back.  I knew the loop was long, and the point of no return is around mile 13-14.

    I was moving at a constant pace, walking mostly, doing 3 miles an hour (20 min pace). I knew I need around to 14-16 min to have a chance of making the cut and finishing, especially the first loop, we had a tighter cutoff time of 6.5-7 hrs (a 16 min pace). The loop was closer to 26 miles. It was a long course 50 mile race (actually was 52 miles).  When a race gave you 14.5 hours to do, you knew it was not easy.

    By second hour, my pain subsided a bit, maybe down to 1.  I felt it was numb and kind of had a warm pain.  And by third hour, the pain reduced to a tickling sensation.  I felt like my funny bone constantly being activated.  It was a sensation of the leg being weak, that if I put weight on it, it might collapse under me. 

    By now, I passed the first waterpoint, mile 8. I knew exactly how much farther I needed to go.  I could head back using the road or continue on the trail for the full 25 miles. I refused to give up.

    Soon it was dark, now 9 pm.  I had a pace chart on me.  My slowest pace called for reaching mile 11 by 8:30, which I already missed and mile 13 no later than 9:30.  I did not get to mile 13 until 10:00.  I knew I was way behind pace.  We had 3 hours to make it back and it took us 4 hours to reach halfway. I knew, there was no way for me to get back until 2 am. 

    Rain and storm came between 11 pm and midnight.  Fog settled in.  I treaded on.  The father and son team had split.  The father was still behind me and from time to time I saw his head lamp.  The son had gone ahead  before me.  He wanted to make the cutoff and I was rooting for him.

    The trail was mostly the same course and direction as the Devil Dog. I was making various comments to myself, here is the bridge coming up, here the Burma Road, and so on.  We turned here for Devil Dog but we were not turning here today.  Hmm, I wonder where this path would take me.  It was pretty much entertaining myself. 

    I got to the Pyrite Mine trail and I knew we were close to the start.  I could take a short cut to get back.  By now, it was passed 1 am, the cutoff.  There was no reason for me to be on the trail this long.  My leg started to hurt again and I was wondering how long I could last.  I felt I could make it back. The Swinging Bridge should not be too far away.

    If I was healthy, I could run on the final road portion.  After the Pyrite Mine Trail, we were on the Pyrite Road.  I remembered last time I did this, I was running on this stretch to make the cutoff. 

    Soon I saw the Swinging Bridge and knew just a bit more.  We had about jist couple miles to go.  They would take us through the Laurel Loop and Birch Trail.  It was uphill and long.  Then I finally reached the Cross Trail, and in my mind like half a mile more. I finally arrived back at the finish at 2:22 am. On a normal day, this portion probably only take me 30 minutes but today, it was dragging on. I was second to the last runner to finish the first loop.

    No words had to be said, I knew I did not make the cutoff (cutoff was at 1 am).  I gathered myself and walked to my car to change and sleep till morning.  The Aid Station volunteers were starting to make breakfast.  So I had some pancakes and nice food before going to bed.

    I had no idea how many people dropped or finished.  As I slept I heard the first runner finished at 3 am.  Then the second runner finished at 4.  I woke up at 5 am and chatted with friends and watched the rest of the runners came in.  Some of my friends who ran only the marathon only came in around 6 am.  I had a long celebration with them.  Eric, who ran the Old Dominion with me the prior week totally crushed this race.  Randy also finished with  a very good time.

    I could also have done the marathon by starting at midnight instead of 6 pm and I would have considered myself a finisher.  I did not.  It was hard to reason why did I not. I wanted to do a 50 mile and I thought I might have a chance. That was all.  I enjoyed the run (or walk) in a familiar park.  It was not often we got to run it at night.  Usually, it closes after dark (5 pm or something). I had an incredible time out there.  There were no special thoughts, just me, the trails, and some friends.  Of course, from time to time, I had to deal with my foot and its limitations. I felt proud I made it to the end (at least my finish point, not the race).

    That’s my race report.  A bit unusual from my normal ones. Usually I would like to include a nice lesson, (the moral of the story) is don’t run on injured foot. Rest and be smart.  I can’t preach this to others since I don’t follow my own advices. 

    Update: My foot felt better now by the second week

  • [677] Pat Pat, My epic fail at running OD100

    First of all thank you to all the volunteers, families and friends for their supports for the race.  It could not have happened without them.

    Much deserving a mention is my crew and friend who drove me to the race and back and waited at every station from 4 am to midnight after I made the last (one and only) cutoff at Elizabeth Furnace. I rarely have a crew, so, the race is a pity that I was not able to finish.

    Why I wanted to run it again?  It has to be a very special reason to run a 100 mile.  I came across a runner, Annabel, she said she wanted to run it for her mom.  As for me, I did not have a particular reason.  Last year, I signed up because of the Grand Slam.  This year, I just wanted to have fun, to experience the course without the pressure of got to do it, and of meeting everyone’s expectation.  Partly, several of my friends signed up and I wanted to join them to hang out.  I was initially going to do the Massanutten 100, since that has been my race for the last few years.  For various reasons, that did not happen and OD100 then became my race.  I wanted too to pace a runner for his Grand Slam this year.

    We went to the briefing. Nothing new.  I placed my drop bags.  Then showed up for the next day 4 AM. We ran around the parking lot twice and that was supposed to be a mile.  I was thinking great, we got to do the extra lap early so at the end we won’t have to do it again and which would save us time. In theory, we are half mile ahead of our pace chart.  I took that as a good sign.

    This year, I was not the last runner going out.  In fact, I lined up at the front.  We took our time going up on Woodstock Tower.  There were just Wayne and I and a few other runners by the time we reached the top.  I figured, like last year, I would slowly pick off runners.

    From Boyers we entered the Orange Trail heading down toward the Reservor. Then we headed back to Boyers toward St David Church.  We crossed the Fort Valley and ran toward Four Points.  About a mile from Four Points, I caught up with a bunch of runners.  I remember from former year a group of 4 runners called themselves the Lost Boys because they got lost in the Boyers loop.  So I called them the Lost Boys too.  Apparently one of them was a runner I was going to pace.  So I called out, hey would you still want me to pace you.  He said sure.  Together we headed into Four Points.  Note, only one of them (and she wasn’t a boy) finished the race as a DFL (last runner), the rest of us later dropped.

    The race was still early, only a third way into it (mile 32) but there were signs that things were not going well.  Our pace started to slack.  We were an hour behind goal pace of 26 hour finishing.  If we were wise, we should have sharpened up and started the hurry up and go mindset.

    The next 20 miles, we traveled through the swampy land of Duncan Hollow.  It was not that rough for me, but I was moving methodically slow. I did not finish the loop and arrive back at Four Points second time till after 5 pm (my pace chart called for arriving at 2:40 for 26 hours and 4 pm for 28 hours).  This was an hour behind of my 28 hour race pace.  It should have been a warning for me but apparently I ignored it because according to the math.  I reached mile 50 in 13.25 hours, so 100 miles, should take me 27 ish hours. Hence, I was not panicking.

    The next 10 miles took me 2 hours, which was good.  I figured I had plenty of time to get to mile 75, our first cutoff.  The sun soon set.  A fellow runner spoke to me that we were not going to make it.  So I started counted the time again.  We had 8 miles and we needed to get to Little Fort.  In my mind I thought I had 3 hours, but in actuality, I had 2.  I was planning to get to Little Fort by 8 pm.  She asked me to check my watch again and then I realized it was already 8 pm.  So I had to settle with 9 pm. She (Kalla) and I started running in earnest. I did arrive by 9 pm. 

    Now the next segment was 11 miles and we had 3 hours.  On paper it was doable, but this section, became more technical.  It was dark.  There were 5-6 (the Lost Boys) of us and we caught up with another 3-4 runners.  It made a fun group as we raced toward the cutoff.  I was hoping we might get to Elizabeth Furnace by midnight.  It came down very close.  I got in, got my medical check, and then headed back out.  Time was of the essence.

    At this stage, it was a relief that I made it through the one and only cutoff.  However, I was spent in term of energy.  Because I had run this race before, I knew what was to come.  We had to cross Sherman Gap and the Veach Gap and then climb Woodstock Tower, three big climbs. 

    It was mind blowing hard.  In summary, It took me 3 hours to climb Sherman and then 2 hours Veach.  I wish I could say, then I did Woodstock Tower in 1 hour.  I would have the race done.  I got halfway up near Woodstock, time was about to expire at 770+758 road. I did not think I could move another step. It was mathematically impossible for me to run 9 miles in an hour or even 2 hours. Volunteers there were more than ready to take me back.  So there I ended my race at 7 am with 9 miles left.

    I don’t like feeling sorry for myself that I could not finish the Old Dominion 100, while coming so close with 8.7-9.2 miles left.  But Pat Pat to myself.

    There were various reasons I could tell myself why the race did not go according to plan, but in the end, it was just me not having enough to survive the race.

    Some would be fine and celebrated the distance ran.  I stopped at mile 91.  I was actually done at mile 80, or even at mile 75 but mathematically, I still had a chance to get myself to the finish line.  My body started giving up at mile 86, and I knew it would be a long way to get the final 14 miles.  By then it was no longer feasible for me to attempt limping in. 

    I am grateful though to be able to run in OD100.  Weather played a part.  We knew ahead it was going to hot.  It is usually hot.  The rain was a relieve to cool off the morning portion.  The entire day was humid.  We just perservered. 

    In hindsight, I should have stopped at midnight, since trying to finish the race with 8 hours left was historically very hard at this race.  I attempted it any way knowing there were others who did that before. 

    Proverbial saying, hindsight is 20-20.  Everything fell apart the next seven hours.  The moment I left mile 75, I tripped and felt into a mud pit.  I had sand and mud all over me, on my clothes, my hands, feet, my pack, my water bottle and water hose.  I could not drink my water until I could find a creek to clean off.  My legs were giving out on me.  Then came pouring rain. The sky poured buckets.  Rocks were slick.  I did not chance it.  Even by walking I was kicking rocks and stumbling.  Each time I kicked a rock, my toes hurt.  I never kicked so many rocks even while running the MMT 100, which was known to be rocky.

    My evaluation if a race is good is by how tired I am afterward.  This race even though I did not finish, I enjoyed the course, the clock and the 1 day, 100 miles.  It is always you against the course and the clock. 

    I got a great welcome when I had to do the “walk of shame” to Henry, our race time keeper by the finish line to tell him I quit.  My friends enrupted in cheers and claps.  They thought I made it in, but in fact I was given a ride back.  I had to tell them, I got a ride! Still I was grateful they (the Lost Boys) were there.

    I am grateful to my crew, friends, volunteers and fellow runners to make Old Dominion an unforgetable experience.

  • BR100 report [Day569]

    I have many thoughts about this race. I DNF (did not finish). It is one of dreaded word in a race. Now I have collected a few DNFs, it was not as dreadful as when I first got it at the Devil Dog or at the Massanutten Race last year.

    If I knew I was definitely going to DNF, I probably would not have run it. I felt I had a good chance of finishing before I started. I checked the course on paper and it did not seem too hard for me. The race was not hard, is what I still believe. It might be even easier than the Devil Dog. Most of the problems I found troubling, such as hills and rains happened early in the race. Technically, they could have overcome and I could have finished. … But that is a lot of what-ifs. I accept if I could not finish, I could not finish.

    As I reflected on it, I did not finish mostly due to reduced training after finishing the Massanutten race in May. Then I had an injury (actually several injuries) during the Catoctin run (50k). I rollwd my ankle in that race on my left foot and I forced myself to finish it in 11 hours, when I should have stopped halfway, maybe at 5 hours in. Immediately after Catoctin, every movement of ankle hurt. However, it was recovered enough for me to run Catherine Furnace 50K two weeks ago. So I thought I should be okay for BR100 (Burning River).

    The race started at 4 AM. This was like my 5th or 6th 100 mile race so I know the drill. I had my drop bags packed and ready. I arrived a day before. Sleep-wise, I felt I was ok. I was up before 3 AM. I had like 4 hours. I had been pulling usually 4 hours of sleep during the week. I was not sleep deprived, but I think a bit more sleep would have helped. During the race, that wee hours around 4 AM Sunday really hit hard and I wished I had more sleep the previous nights, so I was not too drained.

    Also, I had couple big runs right before BR100. I wished I had tapered my mileage so as not to be so exhausted for the race. Pretty much, I drained my reserve before the race, so there was not much left for the late push.

    I do not have hard feeling about the DNF. I felt it was just a matter of fact I came up short. I ran until I timed out, arriving at mile 86, Botzum aid station after they closed. I knew there was no way for me to continue. I did not fuss about it. I had whole night to think about it.

    Weather might have played a part. Rain started early almost immediately as the race got underway. First it was a drizzle. By the first aid station (4 miles in), the heaven opened. We were receiving buckets of water pouring down on us. Many cheered. Not me. It meant we would have a cooler run. The temperature high was around 80. At the time it was around 70 F. Humidity was off the chart, I think around 80-90%. It did not bother me, but many runners mentioned it made them unbearable. Rain did not initially affected me other than reduced vision. I could see better not wearing my glasses than wearing them, since they fogged up and rain droplets made them virtually impossible to see through. At some point, I put away my glasses.

    Occasionally there was dense fog. We had maybe 3-5 feet of vision. Since this happened early, and most people were walking up the trail anyway, it did not feel so bad.

    About maybe 2 hours in, the trail started being saturated with water and soon became a muddy mess. The muddy course remained a feature through out the race. Mud was at first not too much an issue but on a slope, mud became extremely slipery. The first few hills I was fine. As I started getting tired though, I started falling all over the place due to slipery hills. In a couple of those falls, I ended up scraping my left elbow. I might have injured my left foot by then but did not realized. This was a new injury. My old injury was the outside ankle of my left foot, but this was the inner ankle on the left foot.

    At the time, I did not feel any pain, but later in the race after 66 miles, somehow the pain became obvious. It was swelling.

    The first 50 miles were boring. I was mostly on pace. I was doimg 7 hours every 25 miles. It was not fast but it was on pace for a 28 hour finish.

    At mile 22, first dropbag was like a savior. It was 10 am. By then chafing was a big issue. I was cut by my shorts and underwear. My shoes were causing a lot of problem too. Feet being wet all the time was not good. I swapped shoes. I applied vaseline liberally. My private part and my thighs were cut from rub burn. So everything hurt when I moved.

    Nothing much happened between mile 22 to 50. The second dropbag location was at mile 34, which I reached around 2 pm. At the time, I believed I could get to mile 50 by 5 pm.

    My feet were in bad shape. I spent a lot of time to take care of them. I changed shoes and socks. I applied a lot of vaseline to places where I was burned. Luckily I had my sissors with me at that station, I cut the sides of my short to made them split-fly. This helped a lot, so that when I moved my legs the fabric did not tighten around my thighs and causing the rub burn. One thing I failed to do was cut my underwear to release some pressure at the time. I did not get back here until near midnight (8 hours later). I think my underwear had high percentage of cotton, so when wet, it was rubbing my private area and this race causing those areas to bleed. I regretted leaving the aid station without taking care of this stress point.

    By mile 40, I was tired but was still able to run. I think I reached mile 50 around 5:40. Unfortunately, I again needed to take care of my feet and other hurt areas. I did not get out the station until 6:00 pm. It was way too much time spent. Now 14 hours into the race. At this time I was still on pace of 7 hours every 25 miles. I was regretting of so much time wasted during the morning hour at the aid stations. I could have saved an hour by now.

    Mile 50 to mile 66 was hard. My running pace was just a slight faster than people’s walking pace. Many people passed me including some older people. I was not panicking yet. I reached Kendall Lake at 9:00 pm. The sun was setting. It was mile 62. 100K done. I knew I was a bit behind schedule. I wanted to get to mile 66 before midnight. It was only 4 miles away but it took me more than 2 hours to get there.

    Mile 66 was our dropbag station. I arrived at 11 pm. My average pace was 2.2 mph. It was a struggle. Again feet were pretty raw. I changed shoes or socks I think. My memory was a bit vague. I had a new headlamp. Unfortunately it did not fit me. It was too loose. It was my first time trying it on. I might have spent 10 minutes adjusting the strap and I was furious at the time wasted. I knew now was not time to waste on it.

    I then spent a lot time fixing my feet and applying vaseline. In my heart I knew, this was the turning point of the race. I wish I could have gotten in and out under 5 mins. I did not get out until 11:25. More importantly, I was behind on my nutrition, but I did not do enough to fix this deficit because I did not have the appetite to eat. If I could have done it again, eat up well at this station to get me through the night. Better yet, to eat up at mile 50.

    By then my body and muscles had cool off too much and I no longer could run. I made it to next checkpoint at mile 70. It was just a bit past 1 am. That was my goal. I knew I was moving very slowly. There I picked up a random pacer.

    I was calculating my pace in my head, from 6 pm to midnight, 6 hours, I only moved 17 miles. At most 18 miles. That was like 3 miles an hour or 20 mins per mile. We need to have a pace under 18 to be able to finish.

    Mile 70. Amanda was pacing her friend, but her friend decided to bail, so she ended up pacing me instead. She paced me all the way to the next dropbag station (Oak Hill), mile 78. We arrived at Oak Hill at 3:45 am. Unofficially, it was more than mile 78, because we were taken on an alternate trail due to flooding at the finish. I think it was at least 2-3 miles longer. However, station closing time was not changed. Oak Hill station still closed at 4 am. We had to get out before then. Normally it would not be a problem, but at this point, I knew I was chasing cutoffs.

    Again unfortunately, I could not move any faster. My feet were raw. Luckily I now had on fresh socks. I emptied all the sands and grits from the shoes. Feet felt a lot better. I was freezing though. My pacer was wonderful in helping and feeding me. Unfortunately, I was unraveling. I did not have enough food but I also could not eat much.

    Technically, we were still on pace to finish if we could keep a 18 min per mile pace. However, I was done. The next station was 11 miles long. Many parts of this stretch were runnable. Yet I could not run. My pacer had great patience. She got me to run every 25 feet and walk every 25/50 feet. Something like that, but to me my walking and running pace were basically the same. However, running was dreadful for me. Every time, Amanda asked me to run, boy, it was like the end of the world for me. She was a demon to me.

    The next 4 and half hours were unrelenting walk. Sky brightened after 5 am maybe around 5:30. The morning did not bring much hope. Amanda was hoping my mood would improve and thus to run faster when light again. I told her, it is not my mood, it was just impossible for me to move any faster. Even my walking pace was decaying too. No longer could I take bigger steps.

    Deep down I knew it was impossible to finish by now. I was thinking I needed couple extra hours to make it to the finish. I was not beating myself too much on wasting much time at the aid stations, though if only I had gotten out each one under 5 mins, I would have made it.

    Also I really wanted to sleep. I told my pacer it would be so good she ahe would carry me. I knew that would be a DQ, and of course she refused. I could hardly kept my eyes open. We passed couple people who just gave up and sat on the side of the roads to be picked up. My pacer urged me onward and would not let me stop. I felt if I could just sleep for 5-10 mins, I might feel better.

    The aid station seemed never arrived. 5 am. Then 6 am went by. Then 7 am. No aid station was in sight. 8 am. Still no station. By then we knew the station we were expecting had closed. The area was unfamiliar to neither nor to my pacer. We had no choice but kept on going. It was mostly downhill. We arrived then at Botzum, mile 87 officially, but probably mile 90 unofficially. It was 8:30. Botsum had closed since 7:30.

    Both my pacer and I decided to stop here no matter what. Luckily a volunteer was still around and could drive us back to the start/finish. He saved us an uber ride. I did not mind taking an uber, but having an immediately ride back was the best. It was obvious the station had closed.

    My legs were pretty dead afterward. Finally I could sleep.

    The recovery was not bad. The same day after a few hours of sleep, I was pretty much back to my old self. I could move around without much pain. I had some blisters which I did not take care until the following day. My ankle was swollen. It took a week for it to go away. There was still some pain today. However, I think I could run again.

    Summary: If I could do again:

    -prepare for the rain, bring a lot of socks, bring extra shorts and underwears

    -having a crew would have help, with a quicker turn over at the aid station. They could have dress the feet faster, apply lotion

    –nutrition wise. I felt I was behind on my nutrition. This was on me. I brought a lot of sweets but they ruined my appetite. I wish I had more solid food

    Shoes – grits got in. Having gaiters would have help. Mud was messy. I tossed away two of the three pairs used. I wish I had more shoes, like six pairs for this race. I wish I had shoe inserts. I could have swapped the inserts.

    Carrying sissors might have help. Cutting my shorts on the side splits was creative. I wish I had started this early in the first few miles. It might have help with avoiding the chafe. Chafe took so much of my time to deal with. Also carry a lot of vaseline (lube up) all the time.

    Sorry, there is no joy in describe much of my run. Most of my run was me just going through the motion. I started with high hope that I could overcome the weather and distance and hills. The race was wearing me down bit by bit until it was no longer possible to finish. Turning point was pretty much at midnight, but at the time, I did not know it. If I could quit, I should quit then instead of grinding it out the next 8 hours, for next 20 miles.

    Deep down though, I enjoyed the race. The grinding is what running ultra is about. Joy came when there was a finish. It seems depressing when the finish was impossible to reach. However, I praise the race and grateful for the opportunity to run it. I think it was well managed and I appreciate all the volunteers for their long hours and being out there regardless the rain or the late shifts.

  • First run

    I had my first run after the marathon, a short 3.5 miles. Everything felt great. I had everything back in place. My right hip and right knee ->