Not much to report on the training front this week—the legs are still feeling strong, thus preparations (though for what?) are going swimmingly. The Go Green 5k Trail Run (last weekend) went well, with me placing a solid second in 17:57; I was encouraged that I ran semi-quickly, yet felt like I was coasting and could have kept up the pace without too much issue for another few miles. I guess we’ll see next weekend, at the Trick or Trot (10k). I may work in a bit of speedwork, just to ready my legs for the sensation, but realize that I’ve not given myself enough time doing so to build anything resembling a solid speed base (instead opting for a mileage base).
The biggest news, by far, is that I was able to sign-up for the Boston Marathon (which will take place Monday, April 18) again this year. I’m glad I didn’t play the waiting game with it, as all 25,000 available qualifier slots filled up within 8 hours. Two years ago, it took approximately three months for all 25,000 slots to fill (a record quickness at that time), and last year (my first year running it) filled up within a single month. And now it’s taking less than a full day. I sense Boston will be modifying their qualifying standards and/or going to a lottery system (a-la the NYC Marathon, which requires most of the 37,000 entrants to meet a qualifying time AND have their name picked during the name-in-the-proverbial-hat process) in the very near future, as the demand is currently far too great for the current specifications.
SO, unless I come up with another race-to-train-for in between now and then, I’ll be kicking it into high gear around the start of the new year, as I aim to run 2:50:00 this year at Boston. I’m getting tired of running in near-obscurity, after all (though I don’t know that running under 2:50:00 will remedy that, it will at least be a good start to what I hope will be my fastest year to date).
Friday, October 22, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Three New Races and My Ever-Increasing Shame
Still nothing imminent on the “scheduled big race” horizon, though I did sign-up for three separate $20 races last week: the Go Green 5k Trail Run (Saturday, Oct. 16), the Trick or Trot 10k (Saturday, Oct. 30), and the Mad Marsh 50k (Saturday, Nov. 20). I find it humorous that I can pay the same amount of money for a race/run that is 10x the distance of another, but hey, it is what it is—I’m just glad they’re all so affordable (it sure beats the $150 Burning River or Boston Marathon fee…though you do “get what you pay for,” which is essentially my way of saying I'll be shelling out the funds for those races again, without issue). Here’s a brief race synopsis of each of the aforementioned three I’ll be running:
Go Green 5k Trail Run: I wasn’t even aware of this new, under-the-radar run until last Friday, when I was asked if I knew about the race that was “right around the corner from [my] house”. Upon looking it up the following day, I found that this was not an exaggeration—the race is literally right around the corner from my house (it’s run in a conservation area that is situated within the woods that border my backyard). So I signed up, as I can’t pass-up a race that doesn’t even require me to move my car out of my garage (even if I haven’t done any of the necessary preparation for it, at all). And it’s (supposedly) on trails (though they are newly-cleared trails that are still chock-full of soft, thick underbrush—ideal for speed: no, ideal for ankle turns and hidden objects: yes). But the race map makes it look like just as much of the run is on the road/paved bicycle paths, so I’ll emerge unscathed yet.
Trick or Trot (10k): This is another low-key event, but one I look forward to (and participate in) each year. It begins and ends at my old Elementary School (May Howard), which sits approximately 2.5 miles from my front door. Again, a race that is run in/on my stomping grounds, and one that most of the family participates in each year; I never lay down a super-fast time (though the course couldn’t be much easier), but it’s one of my all-time favorites. Plus, 10ks are so few and far between....
Mad Marsh 50k: At my recently completed FATS 50k, a gal was handing out fliers for another 50k she was spearheading—the Mad Marsh 50k. I took a gander online, and though this is primarily a fun run (at last tally, I believe there were 10 people signed up), I couldn’t pass-up the opportunity to get in some good, long distance on trails. Held in Beaufort, SC (which is only about an hour away), this should work out for me nicely; it will help me keep some distance on my legs without making me drive too far or go it alone.
I couldn’t ask for much more in my training—the weather is cooling ever-so-slightly, my legs are feeling pretty strong, and I have a few races on the horizon to help keep me motivated. I’m still searching for the ever-elusive “big race,” but fear that it’s gotten too late in the year for such high hopes; many ultramarathons are run out West, where there are ample well-developed trails (and mountains) to allow for such endeavors, and many of the trails will soon be snow-covered. It’s probably for the best, as my already-existent bills need paid more than I need to splurge on travel and hotel expenses…but still, racing makes me happy (and yes, I realize it’s an addiction). But having said that, Boston Marathon sign-up begins next Monday (October 18) at 9:00 AM EDT, so I’ve at least got that to look forward to.
I’ll leave you with two songs/videos that always make me smile and somehow require me to sing at the top of my lungs (sorry, world)—“The Cave” by Mumford & Sons (excellent, excellent stuff) and “Dynamite” by Taio Cruz (yes, I’m ashamed of myself):
P.S. How does the briefcase-toting white girl in Taio's two-girl posse keep from showing her downstairs? I mean, the camera is RIGHT THERE and her "dress" is cut up to her cleavage. I'm convinced she's anatomically incorrect (i.e. a human Barbie Doll). I've evidently watched the video far too many times...FOR SHAME!
Go Green 5k Trail Run: I wasn’t even aware of this new, under-the-radar run until last Friday, when I was asked if I knew about the race that was “right around the corner from [my] house”. Upon looking it up the following day, I found that this was not an exaggeration—the race is literally right around the corner from my house (it’s run in a conservation area that is situated within the woods that border my backyard). So I signed up, as I can’t pass-up a race that doesn’t even require me to move my car out of my garage (even if I haven’t done any of the necessary preparation for it, at all). And it’s (supposedly) on trails (though they are newly-cleared trails that are still chock-full of soft, thick underbrush—ideal for speed: no, ideal for ankle turns and hidden objects: yes). But the race map makes it look like just as much of the run is on the road/paved bicycle paths, so I’ll emerge unscathed yet.
Trick or Trot (10k): This is another low-key event, but one I look forward to (and participate in) each year. It begins and ends at my old Elementary School (May Howard), which sits approximately 2.5 miles from my front door. Again, a race that is run in/on my stomping grounds, and one that most of the family participates in each year; I never lay down a super-fast time (though the course couldn’t be much easier), but it’s one of my all-time favorites. Plus, 10ks are so few and far between....
Mad Marsh 50k: At my recently completed FATS 50k, a gal was handing out fliers for another 50k she was spearheading—the Mad Marsh 50k. I took a gander online, and though this is primarily a fun run (at last tally, I believe there were 10 people signed up), I couldn’t pass-up the opportunity to get in some good, long distance on trails. Held in Beaufort, SC (which is only about an hour away), this should work out for me nicely; it will help me keep some distance on my legs without making me drive too far or go it alone.
I couldn’t ask for much more in my training—the weather is cooling ever-so-slightly, my legs are feeling pretty strong, and I have a few races on the horizon to help keep me motivated. I’m still searching for the ever-elusive “big race,” but fear that it’s gotten too late in the year for such high hopes; many ultramarathons are run out West, where there are ample well-developed trails (and mountains) to allow for such endeavors, and many of the trails will soon be snow-covered. It’s probably for the best, as my already-existent bills need paid more than I need to splurge on travel and hotel expenses…but still, racing makes me happy (and yes, I realize it’s an addiction). But having said that, Boston Marathon sign-up begins next Monday (October 18) at 9:00 AM EDT, so I’ve at least got that to look forward to.
I’ll leave you with two songs/videos that always make me smile and somehow require me to sing at the top of my lungs (sorry, world)—“The Cave” by Mumford & Sons (excellent, excellent stuff) and “Dynamite” by Taio Cruz (yes, I’m ashamed of myself):
P.S. How does the briefcase-toting white girl in Taio's two-girl posse keep from showing her downstairs? I mean, the camera is RIGHT THERE and her "dress" is cut up to her cleavage. I'm convinced she's anatomically incorrect (i.e. a human Barbie Doll). I've evidently watched the video far too many times...FOR SHAME!
Thursday, October 7, 2010
FATS 50k Race Recap
Well, it appears the requisite distance required to complete the FATS 50k was not quite enough for me, nor the difficulty of the course itself—I had to tack on a little over a quarter mile (to an already longer-than-the-actual-distance course) and run the last 7.5 miles uphill, as opposed to the slated downhill.
Notes to self:
1.) You printed out (and used packing tape to protect) the course directions/section distances for a reason. Learn to use them, so that when you get to the final aid station in first place (with approximately 7.5 miles to go in the race), you don’t go the exact opposite direction you were intended to go, thus ending up in a parking lot…after which you still can’t figure out where you went wrong, so you run the final portion of the course backwards (and uphill) and get passed by three people, thus relegating you to fourth place overall.
2.) If not for feeling sorry for yourself, you would have still held on to second place. Getting lost happens (more often than you’d think) in ultras, so get past it and let the time you’ve lost fuel you to run faster/better.
The race itself went well, for the most part. Though I likely went out a little fast, I stayed within myself and kept a nice, steady pace throughout (besides the last 7.5 miles, wherein the steady uphill, my discouraged mind, and the lack of Gatorade I’d consumed all got the best of me and caused me to walk far more than I would have normally liked). Though a 50k equates to 31.07 miles, the course was a bit longer than that (one person’s estimate was 31.8 miles), so my best guess is that I ran approximately 32 miles in an official time of 5:31:47. The weather was great (possibly even a bit chilly, for the clothes I was wearing, in the shaded woods—my car registered low 50s at the start of the race), and for a “free” race (they only accepted donations), it was well run. Though I probably won’t run this particular course/race again (on many parts, I felt as though I was on a mogul course—indeed, one particular stretch of the course was appropriately named Brown Wave), I’ll very likely run more of the races in this series, as the drive-time to most of them isn’t atrocious (this one was just under 3 hours) and there are no trails to speak of in my neck of the woods.
Though they’re still a bit tired, my legs feel great (in fact, I only used Monday as a recovery day) and I’m already jonesing for another long distance escapade (of which I’ve still got nothing scheduled). I need to decide on one, though…Calli is getting tired of my stalling.
EDIT: I just received word from the FATS 50k race organizer that the race itself was just over 33 miles, so I probably ran closer to 33.25, rather than the previously quoted 32.
Notes to self:
1.) You printed out (and used packing tape to protect) the course directions/section distances for a reason. Learn to use them, so that when you get to the final aid station in first place (with approximately 7.5 miles to go in the race), you don’t go the exact opposite direction you were intended to go, thus ending up in a parking lot…after which you still can’t figure out where you went wrong, so you run the final portion of the course backwards (and uphill) and get passed by three people, thus relegating you to fourth place overall.
2.) If not for feeling sorry for yourself, you would have still held on to second place. Getting lost happens (more often than you’d think) in ultras, so get past it and let the time you’ve lost fuel you to run faster/better.
The race itself went well, for the most part. Though I likely went out a little fast, I stayed within myself and kept a nice, steady pace throughout (besides the last 7.5 miles, wherein the steady uphill, my discouraged mind, and the lack of Gatorade I’d consumed all got the best of me and caused me to walk far more than I would have normally liked). Though a 50k equates to 31.07 miles, the course was a bit longer than that (one person’s estimate was 31.8 miles), so my best guess is that I ran approximately 32 miles in an official time of 5:31:47. The weather was great (possibly even a bit chilly, for the clothes I was wearing, in the shaded woods—my car registered low 50s at the start of the race), and for a “free” race (they only accepted donations), it was well run. Though I probably won’t run this particular course/race again (on many parts, I felt as though I was on a mogul course—indeed, one particular stretch of the course was appropriately named Brown Wave), I’ll very likely run more of the races in this series, as the drive-time to most of them isn’t atrocious (this one was just under 3 hours) and there are no trails to speak of in my neck of the woods.
Though they’re still a bit tired, my legs feel great (in fact, I only used Monday as a recovery day) and I’m already jonesing for another long distance escapade (of which I’ve still got nothing scheduled). I need to decide on one, though…Calli is getting tired of my stalling.
EDIT: I just received word from the FATS 50k race organizer that the race itself was just over 33 miles, so I probably ran closer to 33.25, rather than the previously quoted 32.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Lack of Motivation
This is the longest I’ve gone without updating my blog since its inception—slightly over three weeks, which have been filled with a Beer Fest, a visitation from my grandfather, and football (amongst other things). I’ve been eating out far more regularly than prior to this span, and being an evening runner, this has caused me to either cut short or altogether skip my runs. I’ve been staying up later and sleeping worse/less, which has sapped my energy and has not lent itself to A+ results. I’ve been eating and drinking worse/more than usual (which, admittedly, could be construed as a direct result of some of my aforementioned points). And I’ll readily admit that I’ve allowed these things—my social calendar, so to speak--to eek into my running plans far more often than I should, or is normal. Is this wholly due to the “perfect storm” of distracters, or is there something more there?—a lack of excitement, perhaps? It’s true that I really do love running, but it’s also true that I like having a point in the not-so-distant-future wherein I have something to look forward to; a race to hone in on and for which to set goals. So, I’ll be increasingly scanning the world wide web in search of said race(s), and have chalked this latest bout of ‘ineptitude’ to what was likely a much-needed break. As previously mentioned in a past post, I’ve got the FATS 50k (which I’m using more as a fun-run-on-trails than a race) lurking on the horizon (a week and a half from now—Sunday, October 3), and will try and have another ultra lined up by/near that time. Perhaps the Mother Road 100, in Tulsa, OK?
Weekly mileage (to this point, again keeping in mind that I’m starting with Monday and not Sunday): 9.89 miles (I took Monday AND Wednesday off, thus the meager output thus far)
Last week’s mileage: 29.68 miles (FOR SHAME!)
Fun observations/soundbytes:
1.) Only in Georgia can the top prize in a 5k road race be an M4 assault rifle. I’m not making this up. It seems Georgia is attempting to create a new kind of biathlete.
2.) The Island’s YMCA is a short distance from my house (approximately 1 mile) and features a paved, winding 1-mile track around it. Thus this is a regular destination for me, especially when I’m in the mood to see or be seen by other exercisers. Late last week, I rounded a bend on this track to find two small scooter-wielding children (a boy and a girl, perhaps 5 and 4 in age respectively) and a woman I assume to be their mother. I was running sans shirt, as I often do. This apparently vexed the boy, who loudly asked of his mother “he’s not wearing a shirt?” The mother laughed heartily. I did as well. I also laughingly apologized (to the tike), not knowing what else to say/do. It seems Georgia is attempting to create a community of prudes.
Weekly mileage (to this point, again keeping in mind that I’m starting with Monday and not Sunday): 9.89 miles (I took Monday AND Wednesday off, thus the meager output thus far)
Last week’s mileage: 29.68 miles (FOR SHAME!)
Fun observations/soundbytes:
1.) Only in Georgia can the top prize in a 5k road race be an M4 assault rifle. I’m not making this up. It seems Georgia is attempting to create a new kind of biathlete.
2.) The Island’s YMCA is a short distance from my house (approximately 1 mile) and features a paved, winding 1-mile track around it. Thus this is a regular destination for me, especially when I’m in the mood to see or be seen by other exercisers. Late last week, I rounded a bend on this track to find two small scooter-wielding children (a boy and a girl, perhaps 5 and 4 in age respectively) and a woman I assume to be their mother. I was running sans shirt, as I often do. This apparently vexed the boy, who loudly asked of his mother “he’s not wearing a shirt?” The mother laughed heartily. I did as well. I also laughingly apologized (to the tike), not knowing what else to say/do. It seems Georgia is attempting to create a community of prudes.
Monday, August 30, 2010
I'm Newsworthy!
I was recently interviewed by the Savannah Morning News and the resulting story can be found here; it seems that people are interested in why other people choose to run (and bike) stupidly-long distances. That having been said, it's my personal belief that the article would have been better served being entitled "Crazy people can be found at any age."
Calli is not impressed.
Calli is not impressed.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
On The Mend and On The Move
I’m finally starting to feel more like myself out on the roads. And it’s about time (I’ve only got 30.92 miles in the book for the month of August). After taking two full weeks off after Burning River (due to need more than want), I had to ease back into running for a week (2-3 miles each time out, and more every other day than in succession) before being able to find my groove again this week. I’ve still got a bit of achiness/tightness in/around my right knee, and though it’s something I’ll be keeping my eye on, it’s nothing that’s going to hold me back. Which is a relief, because I felt myself going stir-crazy and didn’t want my mom to open the paper to find a “Local Man, Unable to Run, Turns to Life of Crime” headline. For better or worse, running has rapidly become a necessary evil within my life. I’m ok with it. Calli looks to be, too--I wonder if it’s because she likes seeing me happy, or if she simply wants me out of the house so that she can sleep more. Something tells me a little from column A, a little from column B.
Next up: the FATS 50k (31.07 miles) on October 3, for what I hope will be a nice, even training run on North Augusta trails.
P.S. A special shout-out to my good friends Jesse and Jessica, who are newly made first-time parents. Welcome to the world, beautiful baby JAB!
Next up: the FATS 50k (31.07 miles) on October 3, for what I hope will be a nice, even training run on North Augusta trails.
P.S. A special shout-out to my good friends Jesse and Jessica, who are newly made first-time parents. Welcome to the world, beautiful baby JAB!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Burning River Race Report
Now that I’ve given myself a week and a half to digest a race that took me 23:36:26 to complete and have put most of the bumps, bruises, stiffness, swelling, etc. in the rearview, I feel I finally have the capacity to put into words my Burning River experience. This will be a race report only insomuch as it will discuss my feelings/observations about Burning River and, in so doing, the 100-mile discipline of the ultramarathon—it would be impossible for me to remember many (let alone all) of the aid stations, segments of the course in between each, etc.
The course/weather: A-. Beautiful, well maintained, and diverse enough to keep my mind from wandering (which could make for a very long race, if I’m constantly reminded that I’m indeed running). Well marked (with a single exception: just after Shadow Lake, approximately 19 miles in) and well shaded. The weather was perfect (primarily in the 70s and a bit overcast), allowing for solid trails and very little overheating. I don’t think I could have picked a better inaugural ultra, and believe most ultramarathons would be hard-pressed to match the course/weather combo.
Race organization/volunteers: A+. From the very thorough runner’s packet (complete with directions to each aid station, elevation changes, aid station-to-aid station segment descriptions, etc.) to the course guide with YouTube videos (provided by Chaney Events) of nearly every segment , I had a very clear picture of the race in its entirety prior to toeing the starting line. As for the volunteers, I can’t say enough for/about them. With 400+ of them, each aid station had multiple volunteers clamoring to assist you—I’m pretty sure I never filled my own water bottle, and very rarely did I have to gather my own foodstuffs. They wanted me to have home-made soup, boiled potatoes and pizza. Every volunteer had a smile affixed to their face, words of encouragement to provide, and info regarding the next course segment readily on-hand. One guy (58.6 miles in) took it upon himself to repeatedly douse me with water from giant, ice-cold sponges…I thought it laughingly excessive at the time, but was happy he’d done it shortly thereafter. But volunteer numero uno was, without a doubt, my pacer Dave. Not only was he stuck with me--a guy he’d only ever spoken with via email--for the last 46.6 miles, he was stuck with me the last 20 or so miles, when my legs were no longer cooperating and my mind was overtaken by surliness and negativity. We discussed 7:00 AM leadership classes, weird foot nodules, and too-stupid-to-not-be-funny jokes. He made me eat bananas and potatoes, and shared the last of his water with me when he too was thirsty. He didn’t laugh at me when, 95-miles in, I thought a rock and some tree branches were a cow statue, nor did he mind being laughed at (when I asked him if he wore either glasses or contacts and he answered with a “hmmm,” as if to say he wasn’t quite sure. I would later find out that he hadn’t fully heard the question). He made every mile I ran/walked/limped with him more enjoyable/bearable that they would have otherwise been. Thanks, Dave (and to your lovely wife Tamara, for tagging along and helping to keep our spirits up, too).
How I felt mentally/physically, and what that means for my ultramarathon career going forward: C+ (if not for the final 20--give or take a few--miles, this rating would have been much higher). As the race progressed, I found my running/walking ratio slowly slipping—I was still running more than I walked, but I was walking downhills I previously would have run, etc. I believed this a normal occurrence for all but the most seasoned ultramarathoners, and taken in conjunction with the fact that I knew I’d under-trained for the race, assumed it par for the course. I’d already fallen twice within the first 40 miles (once after tripping over a root and once after slipping on a slick rock during an attempted babbling brook crossing), and though a little sore from each, was no worse off for having done so. My right knee started protesting about 60 miles in, but wasn’t hampering me very much, if at all. Shortly thereafter, a tendon behind my left knee started to tighten up on me, and I had to stop from time to time to try and stretch it out. By Covered Bridge 1 (80.8 miles in), my right knee had moved from an occasional dull ache to more of a constant throb (exacerbated by running), and the tendon behind my left knee felt like it had shortened to about half its normal length. I primarily spent the final 20 miles of the race walking (especially the last 10), with a minute or two of running sparingly interjected. I was so stiff (and tired) after the race that, though I knew better, I went to bed without stretching or ice bathing. When I awoke 3-4 hours later, my left calf/ankle were nearly double the size of my right, and I likened the way I stood and/or walked to a dinosaur. Crude rendering below--click to enlarge.
A week and half later, I am still feeling some stiffness/discomfort in both legs, but these are simply “overuse injuries” that come with the territory and require nothing further than anti-inflammatories and two bouts of stretching each day.
Will I run another ultramarathon? Yes, and hopefully sooner rather than later. But only after I train harder/smarter, so that my body is better able to handle the mileage requirements I place upon it.
Below are some pictures provided by bystanders along the course—I’ll get some personal pictures uploaded in short order, upon the culmination of my current house/dog/grandpa-sitting venture.
The course/weather: A-. Beautiful, well maintained, and diverse enough to keep my mind from wandering (which could make for a very long race, if I’m constantly reminded that I’m indeed running). Well marked (with a single exception: just after Shadow Lake, approximately 19 miles in) and well shaded. The weather was perfect (primarily in the 70s and a bit overcast), allowing for solid trails and very little overheating. I don’t think I could have picked a better inaugural ultra, and believe most ultramarathons would be hard-pressed to match the course/weather combo.
Race organization/volunteers: A+. From the very thorough runner’s packet (complete with directions to each aid station, elevation changes, aid station-to-aid station segment descriptions, etc.) to the course guide with YouTube videos (provided by Chaney Events) of nearly every segment , I had a very clear picture of the race in its entirety prior to toeing the starting line. As for the volunteers, I can’t say enough for/about them. With 400+ of them, each aid station had multiple volunteers clamoring to assist you—I’m pretty sure I never filled my own water bottle, and very rarely did I have to gather my own foodstuffs. They wanted me to have home-made soup, boiled potatoes and pizza. Every volunteer had a smile affixed to their face, words of encouragement to provide, and info regarding the next course segment readily on-hand. One guy (58.6 miles in) took it upon himself to repeatedly douse me with water from giant, ice-cold sponges…I thought it laughingly excessive at the time, but was happy he’d done it shortly thereafter. But volunteer numero uno was, without a doubt, my pacer Dave. Not only was he stuck with me--a guy he’d only ever spoken with via email--for the last 46.6 miles, he was stuck with me the last 20 or so miles, when my legs were no longer cooperating and my mind was overtaken by surliness and negativity. We discussed 7:00 AM leadership classes, weird foot nodules, and too-stupid-to-not-be-funny jokes. He made me eat bananas and potatoes, and shared the last of his water with me when he too was thirsty. He didn’t laugh at me when, 95-miles in, I thought a rock and some tree branches were a cow statue, nor did he mind being laughed at (when I asked him if he wore either glasses or contacts and he answered with a “hmmm,” as if to say he wasn’t quite sure. I would later find out that he hadn’t fully heard the question). He made every mile I ran/walked/limped with him more enjoyable/bearable that they would have otherwise been. Thanks, Dave (and to your lovely wife Tamara, for tagging along and helping to keep our spirits up, too).
How I felt mentally/physically, and what that means for my ultramarathon career going forward: C+ (if not for the final 20--give or take a few--miles, this rating would have been much higher). As the race progressed, I found my running/walking ratio slowly slipping—I was still running more than I walked, but I was walking downhills I previously would have run, etc. I believed this a normal occurrence for all but the most seasoned ultramarathoners, and taken in conjunction with the fact that I knew I’d under-trained for the race, assumed it par for the course. I’d already fallen twice within the first 40 miles (once after tripping over a root and once after slipping on a slick rock during an attempted babbling brook crossing), and though a little sore from each, was no worse off for having done so. My right knee started protesting about 60 miles in, but wasn’t hampering me very much, if at all. Shortly thereafter, a tendon behind my left knee started to tighten up on me, and I had to stop from time to time to try and stretch it out. By Covered Bridge 1 (80.8 miles in), my right knee had moved from an occasional dull ache to more of a constant throb (exacerbated by running), and the tendon behind my left knee felt like it had shortened to about half its normal length. I primarily spent the final 20 miles of the race walking (especially the last 10), with a minute or two of running sparingly interjected. I was so stiff (and tired) after the race that, though I knew better, I went to bed without stretching or ice bathing. When I awoke 3-4 hours later, my left calf/ankle were nearly double the size of my right, and I likened the way I stood and/or walked to a dinosaur. Crude rendering below--click to enlarge.
A week and half later, I am still feeling some stiffness/discomfort in both legs, but these are simply “overuse injuries” that come with the territory and require nothing further than anti-inflammatories and two bouts of stretching each day.
Will I run another ultramarathon? Yes, and hopefully sooner rather than later. But only after I train harder/smarter, so that my body is better able to handle the mileage requirements I place upon it.
Below are some pictures provided by bystanders along the course—I’ll get some personal pictures uploaded in short order, upon the culmination of my current house/dog/grandpa-sitting venture.
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