After spending the last few years
sharing in and marveling at Jordan's ultra-running accomplishments,
I've had the quiet desire to try one on my own. Not having touched
my bikes since we moved to Charleston, I've found running long
distances mimics much of the endurance I enjoyed in cycling. And
after years of reading the literature, I finally tried some
lightweight, 'semi-minimalist,' low heel-to-toe drop shoes, which
have kept me injury free and allowed me to get my most consistent
mileage since I trained for a marathon in 2008. So I set a goal for
this winter race season; two 50ks a month apart, to see if my body
can take it, with my sights set on something even longer next
winter...
The first of these races was the Eagle
Endurance Last Chance 50k here in Charleston, put on by Chad Hoffa,
and so named because if
the Mayans turn out to be correct, this will have been the last
weekend to run a 50k before the world ends. I'd done a number of
Chad's trail races this year, enjoyed each (okay, Dirt Dash was
pretty darn hot...), and looked forward to spending a long day in the
woods and supporting a local race director and fellow
lover-of-trails.
After stressing over the weather report
before the race (with a week to go, we were enjoying December temps
in the high 70s here in the low-country), the morning of the race
dawned chilly and gray; perfect weather for a 5 hour run. The start
finish of the out-and-back course was deep in the Francis Marion
Nation forest, but still only an hour from our apartment. I had
quite the support crew to follow me; Jordan came to shout
encouragement and wisdom, and our friend Kirsta blew her duck call to
cheer on me and a number of other runners she knew.
There is often little pomp at the start
of an ultra; at the requisite time, Chad just said good morning,
everyone have fun, now go! The trail immediately narrowed to pine
straw covered single track, and the pack spread out fairly quickly.
I soon discovered that while researching the course, I may have
misjudged the technical nature of these trails. The elevation was of
course pancake flat, and the trails looked to be mostly dirt, a few
roots, and the fore-mentioned pine straw; the trail running
equivalent of running on pillows for 31 miles. We quickly discovered
that the leaves and pine straw were hiding numerous small holes and
shallows; the perfect size to catch a toe or hyper-extend an Achilles
and send a runner tumbling (as many did in the early going). I
realized it had been at least a month since I'd done any proper trail
running, so tried to make my way as quickly and carefully as I could.
While somewhat featureless itself, the
trail led through continuous woods, occasionally crossing dirt fire
roads, a nice reminder that we weren't too far from civilization. I
spent most of the first 7.5 miles chatting with other runners,
catching up with some and meeting new folks. We were so wrapped up
in conversation that we blew right through the first aid station, I
waved to Jordan and Kirsta, and dove back into the woods. This
second section had the most variety, including a two mile stretch
that had recently been 'swept' of leaves, and consisted of good
flowing singletrack. The trail was clearly marked throughout,
although one short section of overgrowth caused a moment's concern
and a few seconds walking in circles (getting lost is just part of
doing an ultra). After fighting with the laces of my shoes for a
couple miles, I got a strong second wind, and cruised the last few
miles into the next aid station at the turn-around. My goal was to
break 5 hours, and reaching the halfway point in 2:15, I knew I had a
comfortable lead should I start to fall apart in the second half.
And fall apart I did. I don't know if
it was a mental thing or the Pringles I ate at the aid station
(usually one of my favorites), but it took me over 30 minutes to get
back into a rhythm after the turn-around. I could really start to
feel the mileage in my legs, and keeping a good pace took more and
more mental effort. The toughest part was back on the flowing
singletrack at mile 21; my favorite section on the way out. Jordan
always talks about 'dark times' during ultras, and just to accept
them and remember that they do indeed pass. This one finally passed
once I reached the last aid station, had some flat Coke (a race
favorite that did work), and learned that I was placed just outside
the top ten overall. I estimated that the last 7.5 miles would
probably take at least ten minutes longer than on the way out, which
was pretty spot on. After the pleasant distraction of conversation
during the early parts of the race, I didn't see another runner for
the last 11 miles. I was greeted at the finish by Kirsta's duck call
(a nice variation on the cowbell), a vuvuzela, and Jordan chasing me
down the trail for the last 100 yards.
All in all, it was a great race, and a
great success for an inaugural event. The convenience couldn't be
matched; an ultra practically in our back yard! The trails were well
maintained and indicative of the area, giving out-of-towners a true
impression of low-country trail running. I hope to do this one again
next year, assuming we get the Chance!
