Sunday, December 16, 2012

Eagle Endurance Last Chance 50k Race Report





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! 


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