On September 9, I ran the
Patriots’ Run in Overland Park, KS. This
is a fixed-time race where you run as far as you can in nine hours and 11
minutes. I ran this race in 2005, but
several things have changed since then.
First, the race used to
be held on September 11, regardless of what day of the week it was. Now they hold it on the weekend, which makes
it easier for people who work during the week.
The second change was the
course. It used to be a 0.72 mile loop
around a park in Olathe. Now it’s a 1.5 mile
road loop around the Aspiria Campus in Overland Park. The longer loop is significant, since
fractional laps don’t count. You only
get credit for laps that you complete within the time limit.
The third change was the
start time. The race used to start at
noon and go until 9:11 PM. When I ran
this race in 2005, it was a 90-degree sunny day, and I had to run through the
hottest hours of the day. Now the race
starts at 7 AM. It was going to be
another hot afternoon, so I was glad I could get a few hours under my belt before
it got hot.
The fourth change was the
prize money. In 2005, there wasn’t
any. Now there are cash prizes to the
top three men & women. In 2005, I
won the race, but I was only competing against the local runners. There weren’t any other experienced ultrarunners. This year, I had every reason to expect that
the prize money would attract some serious competition.
The last thing that
changed was me. I’m 18 years older
now. I’m just not the same runner I was
when I was still in my mid-40s. I’m more
experienced, and I have a good mileage base, but my top speed today is slower
than my “all day” pace was back then.
When I did this race in
2005, I drove, and Deb came with me. The
drive time is about seven hours. That
used to be within my driving range, but my lower back doesn’t tolerate long
drives the way it used to. This year, I
chose to fly to Kansas City and rent a car.
I flew to Kansas City Friday
morning. My flight arrived early, giving
me time to buy groceries before lunch. I
bought several bottles of Gatorade for the race and some pastries for my
pre-race breakfast.
I had lunch with my
friend, John, who lives in the area. I
first met John 13 years ago at a reunion of the 50 States Marathon Club, when we
were both celebrating our 50 states finish.
It’s been a long time since I last saw John at a race, so it was nice to
have a chance to catch up.
After lunch, I went to my
hotel to check in. I had a mini fridge
in the room, so I was able to get the Gatorade cold before the race.
Packet pickup didn’t
start until 4:00 PM, so I had time to do some exercises at the hotel. Then I drove around the course. John has run this race since they switched to
the current course, and he had warned me that it was hilly. I wanted to see it for myself before the race. I had studied the course map, so I knew where
to go, but it would’ve been pretty obvious even if I didn’t. The entire loop was marked with small
American flags. The loop had a couple
hills, but they were fairly gradual. It
was actually very similar to the loop I used for my training runs at home.
Packet pickup was at the
ROKC climbing gym in Olathe. Besides my
race bib and T-shirt, I got a pair of red, white & blue socks.
When I was looking for a
place to eat dinner, I noticed there was a North Italia. This is a restaurant I’ve been to in
California, but I didn’t realize it was a national chain. Their pizza menu includes a chef’s special,
which changes from day to day. Their
chef’s special on Friday was an asparagus and mushroom pizza. I like asparagus, but I don’t have it very
often. Anytime I can get asparagus on a
pizza, I’m going to give it a try.
I got to bed early enough
to get a reasonable amount of sleep.
That’s more important for an ultra than it is for a marathon.
I had to leave before the
hotel restaurant started serving breakfast, so I made some tea in my room and
ate several of the pastries I picked up on Friday. I ate a bigger breakfast than I normally
would, knowing that I would be hard-pressed to take in enough calories during
the race.
I got a real break on the
weather. As recently as a week ago, it
looked like the temperature would get into the upper 90s. Since then, cooler weather arrived. In the morning, the temperature was in the
low 60s, and the forecast high was only 86.
That’s still hot, but I was expecting worse.
There was an area near
the start/finish line where people could set up tents. All of the relay teams had canopies and
tables. Many of the solo ultra runners
also had canopies and tables. I didn’t
have a tent or table. I just had two
small coolers and a tote bag to store my warm-up clothes.
I didn’t know how far I
was capable of running, so I set multiple goals. My first goal was 32 laps, which is 48
miles. That’s just short of the 48.06
miles that I ran in 2005. Since I was
starting earlier in the day, that seemed like it should be an attainable
goal. Still, it’s not very satisfying to
come up just short of what you’ve done before.
My next goal was 33 laps,
which is 49.5 miles. This goal was more
challenging, but it still seemed realistic.
My ultimate goal was to run 34 laps, or 51 miles. I didn’t know if this was realistic, but it would
be much more satisfying to get above 50 miles, and the only way to do that was
to complete that 34th lap. I also thought
51 miles might be enough to get me into the top three.
There was an aid station
with food, water, and a sports drink, but I brought my own supply of
Gatorade. Besides wanting to drink
something familiar, I also thought it would be easier to keep track of my fluid
intake if I was drinking from bottles. I
brought a small cooler filled with bottles of Gatorade, and I also had a large insulated
bag filled with ice, so I could put ice cubes in my hat when it started getting
hot. I also brought a small supply of
gel packets and some electrolyte capsules.
My last ultra was the
FANS 6-hour race in early June. In that
race, I was able to run the whole race at a slow-but-steady pace, without
taking any walking breaks. I knew I
wouldn’t be able to do this race without walking. For starters, this race was longer. Also, it was going to be a hotter day. Knowing I would inevitably need to do some
walking, I started to take walking breaks at the beginning of my second lap.
My most ambitious goal
was 34 laps. If I wanted to have any
chance of reaching that goal, I had to pace for it from the beginning. If I started at a slower pace, I couldn’t
realistically expect to speed up in the afternoon. It was only going to get hotter as the race
progressed.
I employed a pacing
strategy I’ve used many times before. I
call it Variable-Length Walking Breaks.
I set a target time for each lap.
If I finished a lap early, I walked until I reached the time that I was
supposed to finish the previous lap.
To finish 34 laps in 9:11,
I needed to average 16:12 per lap.
Rather than target that pace from the beginning, I chose a target pace of
16:00 per lap. Why 16:00? It’s a nice round number, which made the
mental arithmetic easier. Also, it gave
me room to slow down a little in the afternoon, when it got hotter.
The race started just as
the sun was rising. As we were lined up
for the start, I could see half of the sun above the horizon. It was a red-orange disk. When I was far enough into my first lap to
see the sun again, it was already fully visible above the horizon. Now it was yellow.
The loop we were running
was shaped like a pear. We were running
clockwise, so most of the time we were curving to the right. There were two places in each lap where the
road briefly bent to the left. As I saw
those turns coming, I always paid attention to running the tangents.
After each lap, I stopped
to get a bottle of Gatorade from my cooler.
After taking a drink and returning the bottle to the cooler, I’d check
my watch to see how much time I had for a walking break. After my first lap, I was able to walk for a
minute and 20 seconds. On my walking breaks, I usually power walked. The more ground I could cover while walking, the less I needed to run.
When I resumed running, I
was already partway into the lap, so I was farther ahead of schedule after two
laps than I was after one. As a result,
my walking breaks gradually got longer. On
my third lap, I was able to walk for two minutes, and my walking breaks
eventually got as long as four minutes.
Early in my fourth lap,
another runner lapped me. At first, I
didn’t know if he was doing the solo ultra or if he was on a relay team. Later in the same lap, another runner lapped
me. In his case, it was obvious that he
was on a relay team, because he was wearing a pack.
There were two types of
relay teams. Runners on teams in the “heavy”
division had to wear heavy packs. That
made them easy to identify. There was
also a “light” division. I didn’t know
at first how to distinguish those runners from solo runners. It wasn’t until about two hours had elapsed
that I started to notice the runners on the “light” relay teams were carrying
batons. The batons were small and flat,
so they weren’t easy to see.
After about five laps, I
had to make a bathroom stop. The
port-o-potties in the start/finish area were a distance away from the
course. There was a port-o-potty about
halfway through the loop that was right next to the course, so I stopped there.
The time I spent on my
bathroom stop cut into my next walking break.
Whenever I made a bathroom stop or took longer than usual in the start
area, my walking breaks would shrink. If
I didn’t have excessive downtime, they would gradually grow. For most of the race, they were between two
and four minutes.
I was set up right next
to an aid station. They had a sports
drink that was provided by one of the sponsors.
There were about four guys working that aid station. One of them told me to let him know if I needed
anything. At the time, I was eating a
gel, so I asked him if he could throw away the wrapper for me.
He told me his name, but
by the time the race was over, I was having trouble remembering. Eventually, he noticed that I was opening one
of my coolers to take out a bottle of Gatorade each time I finished a lap. Whenever he was around and saw me finish a
lap, he opened the cooler and took out a bottle before I got there. After I drank, he would put the bottle back
and close the cooler for me. That
probably saved me about 10 seconds. It
was really nice to have a total stranger crewing for me. I arrived at the race expecting to be
completely self-sufficient.
I brought enough 20 oz. bottles
of Gatorade to be able to go through a bottle every three laps. In the first half of the race, I didn’t need
that much. The weather was still
comfortable enough that it was all I could do to drink 5 oz. after each
lap. At that rate, a bottle lasted four
laps.
Despite drink less
Gatorade than I planned, I kept making bathroom stops. In the first four hours of the race, I made
four bathroom stops.
After about three hours, I
started to feel sweaty. The sun was high
enough in the sky that I could feel it. There
wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and there isn’t much shade on this course. By now, it was 70 degrees, and the sun made it
feel hotter.
To stay cool, I started
putting ice cubes in my hat. The hat I
was wearing drapes down to cover the back of my neck. As the ice cubes melted, the ice water
filtered down through the back of my hat.
I also wore one of those cooling bandanas around my neck. The ice water dripping down through my hat
was absorbed by the bandana, so it was always cold. I used to have a problem with ice water from
my hat running all the way down my back and legs and eventually getting into my
shoes. The bandana prevented that from
happening.
At first, I didn't need to put ice in my hat every lap. It took more than a lap for the ice to melt completely, so I added more ice every other lap.
When I finished 17 laps,
I was halfway to my goal. During the
next lap, I reached the marathon mark, although I wouldn’t get credit for it
until I finished my 18th lap. For what it’s
worth, I reached the marathon mark in roughly 4:35.
In theory, if I could run
a marathon in 4:35, I was on pace to run 52.5 miles by the end of the
race. That would be slightly less than
two marathons. That was a little
misleading though. I started the race by
running the first full lap. That was my
only lap without a walking break, so it was faster than the others. I wouldn’t have a fast lap like that in the second
half. To be on pace for 52.5 miles, I
would need to speed up a little. That
wasn’t going to happen. I had finished
the more comfortable half of the race.
The second half would be brutally hot.
If anything, I was going to slow down.
In the second half of the
race, I finally felt like drinking more Gatorade. For the rest of the race, I was drinking a
third of a bottle after every lap.
Despite drinking more, I no longer needed to make bathroom stops.
I wasn’t noticing as many
runners on the course now. Some people
were starting to take breaks. Others
reached their goals and stopped. I know
a few runners just wanted to do enough laps to complete a marathon.
For most of the summer, I’ve
been doing my training runs in the afternoon.
I’ve been doing that to get used to the summer heat. I usually ran at least 10 miles, with
temperatures ranging from the upper 70s to the upper 90s. On one of those runs, the heat index climbed
to 109 by the time I was done running. I
didn’t take walking breaks on those runs.
Instead, I ran at a deliberately slow pace, so I wouldn’t overheat.
When I ran this race in
2005, I didn’t realize how hot it would be.
I didn’t do any heat training that year, and on race day, I really
suffered. After finishing enough laps
for a marathon, I was feeling so awful that I decided to stop as soon as I completed
enough laps for 50K. I dragged myself
through the next seven laps by promising myself I could quit after 44 laps.
When I finished my 44th
lap, I asked the lap counter how many laps the leader had. Earlier in the race, there were a few runners
who lapped my multiple times, but nobody had lapped me again recently. I didn’t think I could complete with
them. I was just curious.
The lap counter looked
through her sheets and then said, “Number 138 has 44 laps.” I looked down at my shirt. I was wearing bib number 138. I was shocked to find out I was leading the
race. What happened to those guys who were
way ahead of me?
As it turns out, I was
the only one who kept moving the whole time.
Everyone else had to stop and take a break after overheating. I had been prepared to quit, but you can’t
quit when you’re winning. I dragged
myself through 17 more miles, not stopping until I was out of time. I ended up winning that race by one lap.
On this year’s course, I needed
21 laps to get past 50K. When I finished
my 21st lap, I wanted to ask the same question, but they no longer do manual
lap counting. Now they have chip timing,
so laps are recorded electronically. They
had a display that showed real-time results, but it was confusing, and the
print wasn’t big enough for me to read it without leaving the course.
I knew by now there were
at least two runners who had lapped me three or four times. There was at least one other runner who may
have lapped me early in the race and who always seemed to be ahead of me when
we were on the same lap. I assumed, at
best, I was in third place, but that seemed doubtful. It wasn’t going to affect my race
strategy. I was going to run until time
was up, and I was still focused on finishing 51 miles. I couldn’t do more, and I wouldn’t settle for
less.
After another lap, I just
needed 12 more laps to get to 51 miles. That’s
18 miles. Last weekend, I did an 18-mile
training run on a loop that was the same length. That run was a dry run for this race. I was pacing myself the same way, and I was also
rehearsing my nutrition strategy. Since
the remaining distance was something I had done recently in training, it seemed
more manageable. It was the first time
in the race that the remaining distance didn’t seem intimidating.
There was a half marathon,
but it didn’t start until 1:00 PM. They
had a different starting line. That had
to run 1.1 miles, followed by eight complete laps. I ran by them as they were getting ready to
start.
By the time I finished
that lap, the half marathon had started and the fastest runners were catching
up to me. For the rest of the race, the
course didn’t seem as empty.
By now, it was hot enough
that I had to put ice in my hat after every lap. By the time I finished a lap, the ice had
mostly melted.
After I finished my 23rd lap,
another runner started his lap just as I was done putting ice in my hat. It was a runner who I had seen go by five
times. I asked him what lap he was
on. He said he didn’t know his lap
count, but he had 42 miles. I was at
34.5 miles, so he was 7.5 miles ahead of me.
That was five laps. Surprisingly,
he wasn’t winning the race. He said
there was another runner ahead of him.
There was a long gradual
uphill section in the first half of each lap.
The race organizers thought it was notable enough that they put signs at
the top. On one side of the road, a sign
read, “End Patriot Ascent Section.” A
sign on the other side of the road read, “Start Patriot Descent Section.” Early in the race, I didn’t think of this as
a “hill,” but later in the race I did.
For most of the race, I
was running the last mile of the loop as fast as 9:30. That mile included the descent section, so it
was net downhill. Now, it was
consistently taking me more than 10 minutes to run that mile. The miles were adding up, and the heat was
taking a toll on me. I couldn’t run as
fast. Because of that, my walking breaks
were getting shorter. When they got to
be less than two minutes, I knew I had to make an adjustment.
Since the beginning of
the race, I had been setting a target time of 16 minutes for each lap. That was a faster pace than I really needed to
get to 51 miles. With each lap, I was
putting 12 seconds in the bank, and that time gradually adds up. It was time to make a withdrawal.
With 10 laps to go, I did
the math and realized I could afford to average 16:40 per lap the rest of the
way. I didn’t want to cut it too close,
so I adjusted my target time to 16:30.
That still gave me room to slow down a little more later. It also meant my “walk to” time would still be
a whole minute on every other lap. I
really needed those extra 30 seconds of walking. Now I was back to walking almost as far as
before.
After another lap, I only
had nine to go. Three laps earlier, 12
laps seemed like a manageable distance.
Now, nine laps seemed like a lot.
After two more laps, I
only had seven to go. That’s 10.5 miles,
which is the distance I do most frequently for training runs. Knowing that didn’t make it seem any more
manageable. Each lap was tough now, and
10.5 miles still seemed like a lot.
I felt the same way with
six, five, and four laps to go. I could
grind out the laps, one at a time, but the remaining distance to get to 51 miles
always seemed intimidating.
There was a 5K race that
started at 3:00 PM. Their starting line
was a tenth of a mile before the start/finish line of the ultra. As I was finishing my 31st lap, I saw those
runners lined up on one side of the road.
I passed them just before they started.
Then the fastest 5K runners raced by me before I crossed the line to
finish the lap. Most of the others
passed me as I was stopping to drink some Gatorade and put ice in my hat.
After crossing the main start/finish
line, the 5K runners had to do two full laps.
I still needed to do four laps. I
was jealous.
With four laps to go, I
was able to make another adjustment to my target time for the remaining
laps. Now I could budget 17 minutes for
each lap. Even with the extra 30 seconds
of walking, my walking breaks still weren’t as long as they were earlier in the
race.
While I was on my walking
break, the last of the 5K runners went by.
I few of them were walking the whole way. I heard one 5K runner say to another, “This
is stupid. When I signed up for this, I
didn’t realize how hot it would be.” It
seemed cruel to make them start at the hottest hour of the day, but at least
they only had to run a few miles. It
seemed even more cruel to make the half marathon runners start at 1:00. They had to go a long enough distance that
the heat would take more of a toll on them.
It wasn’t until after the race that I realized why they did that. The time limit for every race came at 4:11
PM. That made it possible to do all the
awards at the same time.
As I resumed running, I
passed the people who were walking. Then
I started to pass the runners at the back of the pack. Amazingly, I was passing 5K runners all the
way up the hill. It wasn’t until the
descent section that I stopped passing them.
I could go a little faster there, but they could too.
Late in the race, I found
that every time I drank some of my Gatorade, I had a sudden urge to pee. Since I always felt that while I was
drinking, it seemed like it must be a psychological thing. When I started moving again, the urge would
subside.
With three laps to go,
the urge to pee wasn’t subsiding. When I
reached the port-o-potty at the other end of the loop, I made a bathroom
stop. I managed to pee a little, but
only a few drops. Then I couldn’t pee
any more. I think I was under too much
physical stress to relax enough to pee.
The same thing happened to me once in a 100-mile trail run where I was
overheated. I was frustrated that I
wasted time on an unproductive bathroom stop.
That time would come out of my next walking break.
After my 32nd lap, I had
already reached my minimum goal. At this
point, however, I wasn’t going to be satisfied with anything less than 51
miles. I knew I had enough time. I only had to run three more miles, and I
would have two walking breaks. For the
first time in 10 laps, the remaining distance didn’t seem intimidating. I would still have to work hard in those two
laps, but I knew I could do it, and it wouldn’t take too much longer.
When I finished that lap,
there was 20 minutes left in the race. I
drank some Gatorade, but I didn’t bother to put ice in my hat. The ice from the previous lap had melted, but
my hat was still wet. With only one lap
to go, I figured that was good enough.
In retrospect, that was probably a mistake. I didn’t realize how much I was in danger of
overheating.
I usually worked a little
harder on the hill, so I wouldn’t slow down.
In this lap, I seemed to be slowing down on that section. I didn’t feel confident until I crested the
hill and began the descent section. At
that point, I knew I could run to the finish, but that didn’t make it any
easier.
I finished the race with
51 miles. That was my top goal, but it
took a toll on me. As I walked to where
my coolers were, I went by the tent where they were handing out finisher
medals.
Shortly after finishing,
I had to sit down on one of my coolers. I
sat there for several minutes. When I
felt like I could get up, I walked over to the timing tent, where several other
runners were looking at the screen with live results. The screen was so confusing, that I couldn’t
tell where I placed. I couldn’t even
tell what my own mileage was, although I already knew.
I recognized another
runner who had lapped me several times, and I asked him how far he ran. He said 53 miles. In fact, he ran 52.5 miles, but his watch was
reading high by about half a mile. Mine
was too.
After talking to him, I
needed to sit down again. I saw a few large
coolers and sat down on one. After
sitting for a minute or two, I started to feel light-headed. I felt like I came close to passing out.
At least two people asked
me if I was OK. Without hesitation, I
told them I wasn’t. I’ve never felt like
this after a race. I was pushing pretty
hard for the last several laps, and I was closer to my limit than I
realized. Also, I don’t think my body
reacted well to sitting down. Ideally, I
should’ve kept walking around, but I was too tired.
They had a doctor in the
finish area, but he had to tend to a runner who had collapsed near the finish
line. The people tending to me were
other runners. One of them asked me if I
knew where I was. I did. I felt lightheaded, but I was still coherent.
They placed several wet
rags over my head, neck, arms, and legs to cool me down. After several minutes, they asked me if I
wanted to lie down. Three people helped
me walk over to an open space on the grass, and they helped me lie down. Then they brought a chair so I could elevate
my legs.
After a while, one of
them asked me if I wanted something to drink.
I couldn’t drink more Gatorade, but water sounded good. I couldn’t drink while I was lying down on
the grass, but now I felt like I could sit in a chair. The wet rags had been effective in bringing
my core temperature down.
Holding an ice cold bottle
of water made my right hand so cold that my fingers turned white. I have Raynaud’s Syndrome, so when one hand
gets cold, both hands turn white. I was
hot earlier, but now I needed to put on a jacket, so I wouldn’t get any colder.
By now, they were doing
the awards ceremony. They started with
age group awards for the 5K and half marathon.
By the time they got to age group awards for the ultra, I was able to
get up and walk. I didn’t place in the
top three overall, but I won my age group.
This was the fourth straight race where I won an age group award.
This race is a fundraiser
for Folds of Honor, which provides scholarships for military and first responders. The age group awards were Folds of Honor
squadron coins.
While we were waiting for
the overall awards, one of the other runners brought me some food. I ate a banana, some orange slices, and half
a hamburger.
When they got to the
first place award for the solo ultra, it was a guy I didn’t recognize. He had changed into different clothes. If he was still wearing his running clothes, I
probably would’ve remembered seeing him pass me.
The second place runner was
the guy who had been five laps ahead of me when I talked to him during the
race. Later in the race, he had to start
walking, but he still finished four laps ahead of me. It was a long time before they got to third
place, but I already knew there was another runner who finished a lap ahead of
me.
When I was up to it, I
drove back to the hotel. By now, it was
already 5:30 PM. Fortunately, I didn’t
have to drive far. I took a long hot
shower, did some stretches, and worked on a few muscles with a massage stick.
I was tempted to go to
the pool area and soak in the hot tub.
That would be soothing for my legs, but I was worried I would
overheat. When you’ve overheated
recently, it doesn’t take much for you to overheat again.
After my shower, I ate a
bag of potato chips I brought back from the race. Between that and the food I ate in the finish
area, I didn’t feel like eating dinner until 8:00. I didn’t feel like going anywhere, and I
wouldn’t have wanted to take the time to drive to a restaurant. Fortunately, the hotel had a restaurant. By the time I was done with dinner, I was
ready to crash for the night.
I can usually tell if I
got dehydrated during a run. I didn’t
feel that way later in the day, nor did I feel like that the next morning. I think what I experienced was a spike in
core temperature after finishing the race.
That can happen when you stop running.
Your metabolism doesn’t just shut off.
Your muscles are still producing energy, but it all turns into heat when
you stop moving.
In retrospect, I should’ve
put ice in my hat before my last lap. I
also should’ve put ice in my hat after I finished.
Surprisingly, I didn’t have any sore muscles the next morning. At the pace I was going, I wasn’t putting too much stress on my legs. What made this race so difficult was the afternoon heat.
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