On June 1-2, I ran the FANS 24-Hour Race. I’ve done this race several times before. It’s a fixed-time race where you run or walk as far as you can in 24 hours. Whoever runs the farthest wins.
While I’ve run several
other races this year, my training has been focused on FANS for the past
several months. I’ve been gradually
building my mileage for more than a year, and I recently started doing training
runs of 30+ miles.
The course was a 1.82
mile loop around Normandale Lake in Bloomington, MN. There were two aid stations. The main aid station, which was near the
bandshell, had the timing/lap counting tent and the main food tent. On the opposite side of the lake, there was a
secondary aid station with water, Gatorade, and a limited amount of food.
On the west side of the
lake, there was an area where we could set up tents to store our gear. The weather can change during a 24-hour race,
so it’s nice to have a place where you can change into different clothes, if
necessary. It’s also nice to have a
place where your crew can get out of the sun (or take shelter from the rain). I didn’t have a crew, but I was sharing a
tent with my sister, Betty, and her husband, John. John was doing the race as a walker. Betty, as usual, was volunteering as a lap
counter.
The tent area was across
the street from a large parking lot, making it easy to bring our gear from the
car to the tent area.
There was also a medical
tent set up in the middle of the tent area.
This made it easy for us to check in before the race. In the past, everyone needed to weigh in
before the race, and there were also mandatory weigh-ins every four hours. This year, the weigh-ins were optional.
There were two methods of
lap counting. The primary method was
chip timing. We each wore a chip on an
ankle strap, and there was a timing mat that we crossed each time we finished a
lap. As a backup method, there were also
volunteers at the finish line who counted our laps manually.
The last time I did the
24-hour race was two years ago. At the
time, I was barely in good enough shape run a 4-hour marathon. I signed up just a few weeks before the race. I had not done any specific training for the
race. I went into it with only the
marathon training I had been doing.
Despite my lack of training, I managed to run 101.3 miles and win the
over 60 age group.
This year, I’m in much
better shape, so I expected to be able to run farther. How much farther was a good question. My all-time PR for a 24-hour race is 124.81
miles. I did that when I was 46 years
old. I’m 63 now. Back then, my average training pace was about
eight minutes per mile, and I could run a marathon in 3:07. Today, my average training pace is about ten
minutes per mile, and I can run a marathon in 3:39. Do the math.
It just didn’t seem realistic that I could run as far now as I did then.
Those two past results
framed my expectations. It seemed like I
should be able to do more than 101.3 miles, but not as much as my PR of
124.81. I expected I most likely could
do somewhere between 110 and 120 miles.
One of the first running
books I ever bought was the New Competitive Runner’s Handbook. The authors of this book advocate setting
three goals for every race. The first
goal is called the achievable goal. This
is something you know you can do. My
achievable goal for this race was to run at least 100 miles. I assumed if I did that, I would also win my
age group. There aren’t a lot of 60-year-old
men who can run 100 miles in 24-hours.
The next goal is called
the challenging goal. That’s a goal that’s
realistic, but would take a good race.
My challenging goal was to run at least 180 kilometers (111.87
miles). That’s one of the qualifying
standards for a race in Greece called the Spartathlon. I was hoping to qualify in this race.
The third goal is called
the ultimate goal. This is a goal that
may or may not be realistic. It’s
something you can stretch for if you’re having a really good day. My ultimate goal was to win the race. I wasn’t going to aim for that from the
beginning, but it’s something I would keep in mind if things were going really
well.
It’s worth noting that
I’ve never won a 24-hour race. I tried
to win this race a few times when I was in my 40s. I could never put it all together for the
entire 24 hours. I always had a bad
patch or made mistakes. On top of that,
there was always at least one runner who was out of my league. The best I ever did was a second-place finish
in 2007.
I wouldn’t normally set
that as one of my goals, but when I looked at who was signed up, I didn’t see
any elite ultrarunners from out of state.
One of the local women was a former winner who I expected to beat all of
the men this year. She was capable of high
120s, but it seemed like this might be the rare year when something in the
range of 110-120 might be enough to win the men’s race.
We had the option of
picking up our race packets on Friday, or waiting until Saturday morning. I opted to pick up my race packet on Friday. The single digit bib numbers were given to
runners with the most lifetime FANS miles.
My bib number was 5. I’ve never
had a lower number for a race of any distance.
The race packet also
included a T-shirt, a pair of socks, two packets of maple syrup, a list of all
the participants, and a medal. In a
fixed-time race, there’s no such thing as not finishing, provided you run at least
one lap. To keep things simple, they
give us the medal at packet pickup.
I got up early on
Saturday, so I could get to the lake by 6:00.
That’s the earliest that we could start setting up tents. Betty and John met me there. We’ve set up our tent in the same spot the
last two years, and we wanted to get there before anyone else set up, so we
could get our usual campsite.
It rained for most of the
night. By the time we arrived at the
lake, the rain had stopped. The grass
was wet, but it wasn’t raining while we set up.
That was a huge relief. Once the
tent was up, we had a dry place to store our gear. After setting up our tent and unloading the
rest of our gear, we had time to relax until it was time to check in and
collect our timing chips.
Weighing in was optional,
but I chose to do a pre-race weigh-in, so I could track my weight changes
during the race. I’ve found the periodic
weigh-ins to be helpful, so I know if I’m drinking the right amount to stay
fully hydrated.
As it got closer to the
start, I walked over to the main aid station to meet my lap counter. Because I had a low bib number my lap counter
was the shift leader. He was someone I
knew from previous years.
The race started at 8:00
AM on Saturday. Our starting line for
the first lap was in a different place from where we would finish each
lap. Instead of doing a full 1.82-mile
lap, our first lap was only 1.68 miles.
The purpose of making the first lap a different distance was to have the
100-mile mark be right at the end of our 55th lap.
My first lap was the only
one that didn’t include a walking break.
I just ran the whole way. There
were about 20 runners who went out at a faster pace on that lap. I didn’t try to keep up with them, but I
still felt like I was starting faster than I usually do. It’s possible I had too much pent-up
energy. I hadn’t done any running since
Wednesday.
As I started my second
lap, I slowed to a pace that felt much more relaxed. I also started taking walking breaks. Early in the race, I took one walking break
per lap. I ran until I reached aid
station #2 (the one on the far side of the lake). After pausing for a few seconds to get
something to drink, I would begin walking.
I walked roughly 600 meters, which took me through a long flat section
and to the top of a small hill. Then I resumed
running.
The distance I was
walking wasn’t much more than a fifth of the loop. That’s an ambitious ratio of running to
walking. My plan was to have a faster
overall pace in the morning hours, to give myself room to slow down as it
warmed up. I fully expected to start
taking longer walking breaks in the afternoon.
I was expecting a warm
day. The temperature was 60 when we
started running, but it was forecast to get up to 79 in the late afternoon. I’m not sure if it actually got that hot.
Early in the race, I felt
like I was on cruise control. My overall
pace was easy enough that I didn’t feel like I was working too hard. In fact, I was going at an ambitious
pace. One of the insidious things about
a 24-hour race is that a pace that’s way too fast will still feel easy for
several hours. It catches up with you
later.
On one of my laps, I
caught up with John. I was walking
faster than he was, and I asked him if he could pick up his pace, so he could
walk together. John was only able to
keep up with me for a few minutes. John
walks at a brisk pace, so that should’ve been a clue that I was walking too
fast.
In the months leading up
to the race, I did several long training runs that ranged from 31.5 to 36.4
miles. In those training runs, I paced
myself just like I planned to pace myself in the race. When I took walking breaks, I walked at a
somewhat brisk pace, but I was always careful not to walk too fast. On race day, that discipline went out the
window. I was putting too much energy
into my walking.
In the past, I’ve often
set a target pace and varied the length of my walking breaks to stay on that
pace. This time, I was trying something
different. I was going more by feel. I was planning to keep my effort uniform and
let my pace vary according to the conditions.
I expected it to get hot in the afternoon and then cool down at night. My hope was if I throttled back my pace
enough during the day, I would have the energy to make a big push during the
night, after it cooled down.
While I was walking with John,
he observed that I was averaging less than 20 minutes per lap, and he questioned
whether I was going too fast. I was
going faster than the pace of my training runs, but I wasn’t too concerned. I still expected to slow down in the
afternoon.
I started out drinking a
cup of Gatorade at each aid station.
Sometimes, I would also have a small bite of solid food, such as a
cookie. My expectation is that I would
need to increase my fluid intake in the afternoon.
I brought a cooler with
several bottled of Gatorade. If drinking
at the two aid stations wasn’t enough, I could also take a drink of Gatorade
each time I went by our tent.
At noon, I did my first
weigh-in. My weight was up a pound and a
half. Apparently, just drinking Gatorade
at the two aid stations was too much.
It’s worth noting that we had cloud cover and a nice breeze off the
lake. The morning hours were cool and
comfortable.
Ordinarily, the increase
in weight would be a signal to cut back on fluid intake, but I was anticipating
warmer temperatures in the afternoon. I
kept drinking at both aid stations, but I never started drinking Gatorade at
the tent.
There were signs in
different places around the course to let us know when we reached certain
milestones, like a marathon, 50K, 50 miles, or 100K. During my 15th lap, I passed the marathon
mark. I got there in 4:32. That’s faster than I expected. I knew I’d get there in less than five hours,
but I should’ve realized my average pace so far was too fast. I was averaging about 10:30 per mile.
Shortly after noon, the
sun came out. I didn’t feel hot yet, but
I assumed I would as the afternoon progressed.
I expected to lengthen my walking breaks to about 800 meters, but I was
waiting until I started to feel hot.
I felt a certain
reluctance to add that extra 200 meters of walking, because about two thirds of
it was a nice gentle downhill section.
It was easy to run that section, so it seemed wasteful to make it part
of my walking break. A different way to increase
my walking would be to start walking all the hills. I planned to do that during the night, but I
wanted to hold that in reserve for psychological reasons. Instead, I kept running more than three
quarters of the loop. That eventually
wore me down.
I had a cooling bandana
that I had soaked in water. At 1 PM, I
put it around my neck. The bandana had
been packed in my cooler, which was full of ice. Wearing that kept me feeling cool for the
next few laps.
Three laps after the
marathon mark, I reached the 50K sign. I
got there in 5:25. I never gave any
thought to what my 50K split should be.
If I had, I would’ve realized I was still going too fast.
I was in my 20th lap when
I started to feel some soreness in my lower back. I felt that during my walking break. My longest training run had been 20 laps on
this same course, but I never felt similar discomfort then. That’s when I finally realized that I was
walking at a pace that was too aggressive.
My bandana eventually got
dry, so I started putting ice cubes in my hat.
The first time I did that was after my 21st lap. The ice cubes would melt on the top of my
head, which kept me cool. As they
melted, the ice water would run down my neck and get soaked up by the
bandana. That kept it cold and wet.
The ice would eventually
melt, but it took about two laps. I
began adding new ice cubes after each odd-numbered lap.
The measures I was taking
to cool myself were so effective that I never felt hot. It’s perhaps for that reason that I never
felt the need to start taking longer walking breaks. All afternoon, I kept walking just 600 meters
out of each 1.82-mile loop.
Because I wasn’t drinking
as much Gatorade as I thought I would, I was concerned about taking in enough
calories. Roughly every other lap, I had
something to eat. My go-to food was a
PBJ, but they didn’t always have them at the aid station. One of the sponsors was Subway, so they
sometimes had sub sandwiches cut into small pieces. Another sponsor was Parkway Pizza. A couple times during the race, pizza was
delivered.
At 3:30, I saw that there
was pizza at the aid station. I wasn’t
expecting it that early in the day. They
usually do the first delivery closer to dinner time. The pizzas were cut into squares, but the
squares were still large for an aid station snack. I picked up a piece of cheese pizza and some
Gatorade to wash it down. I could only
eat it so fast, so I had to walk for a few minutes.
I weighed in again at 4
PM. My weight was up another pound and a
half, for a total of three pounds. Some
of the weight gain may have been my wet bandana, and the weight of my wet
clothes. Still, I couldn’t ignore this
any longer. I cut back to only drinking
at one of the aid stations. To
compensate for getting fewer calories from Gatorade, I made a point of eating
something at the other aid station.
Sometimes it was just a small slice of a candy bar, but I always ate
something.
Whenever someone reached
50 miles, 100K or 100 miles, the lap counters would ring a cowbell. During my 28th lap, I reached the 50-mile
mark. I got there in 9:10. Betty was my lap counter for the 2 PM to 8 PM
shift. When I finished that lap, Betty
rang the cowbell for me. You’d be
surprised how important little things like that can be when you’re running for
this many hours.
I had a small supply of
Gu packets that I had brought from home, but I also had the two maple syrup
packets from my race packet. As I
started my next lap, I stopped briefly at the tent to have one of the maple
syrup packets. It was a treat to
celebrate getting to 50 miles, but it was also a source of extra calories.
I was due to add ice
cubes to my hat on that lap, but I got distracted and forgot. I waited until the next lap instead. That would end up being the last time I added
ice. I no longer felt like I was in any
danger of getting hot.
In the late afternoon and
evening, I gradually slowed down. It
wasn’t a conscious decision. I was
running by feel. I always ran at a pace
that felt comfortable. The pace that
felt comfortable now was slower than the pace that felt comfortable
earlier. My walking also wasn’t as fast. As I started to get fatigued, my running and
walking gaits both got less efficient.
The same effort translated into a slower pace.
As I got more and more
fatigued, I found myself needing to focus on intermediate milestones. The next milestone I could think of was 30
laps, just because it was a round number.
Then I looked forward to 31 laps.
To reach my goal of 180K, I needed to run 61 laps, plus an extra
mile. At 31 laps, I was halfway there.
The next intermediate
milestone was 100K, which wouldn’t come until my 35th lap. I got there in 11:44. At the end of that lap, the lap counters rang
the cowbell again. When I got back to my
tent, I celebrated with another maple syrup packet.
By 8 PM, I had run 63.1
miles. My all-time PR is 124.8, so I was
on pace to break it. I knew that wasn’t actually
going to happen. I had already slowed
down substantially since the morning hours, and that was only going to get
worse.
It was time for my next
weigh-in. My weight was back to where it
started. It was going to be much cooler
during the night, and I have a history of overhydrating during the night. I occasionally drank at both aid station, but
on most laps, I continued only drinking at one.
The course had a few flat
sections, but the rest of the course was rolling. There weren’t any hills that were long or
steep, but there were lots of small undulations. At some point, these small hills started to
get tiring. I started walking all the
hills. I was still walking the same 600-meter
segment as before, so I was now doing roughly twice as much walking. Never having to run uphill made it easier to
continue running. Having the long
walking break starting at aid station 2 gave me a needed rest break. If I had started doing this eight hours
earlier, it would’ve been a different race.
Instead, I was already struggling.
The next time I got to my
tent, I stopped to put on my headlamp. I
didn’t need it yet, but the sun would set before I finished another lap. I also removed my hat, bandana, and
sunglasses.
For the next lap, there
was still enough light to see clearly.
It was cooling off, though. I
stopped at the tent again to put on a pair of gloves.
By now, the sun was setting,
but there was still enough light to see.
Halfway through my next lap, it finally got dark enough that I needed to turn on my headlamp.
My original plan called
for going easy during the afternoon hours, so I could make a big push during
the night. I usually feel sluggish
between midnight and 4 AM. To combat that,
I brought a selection of Gu packets. All
of the flavors I brought had caffeine.
My plan was to eat one per hour, starting at 10 PM.
At this point, my race
plan had already gone south. I wasn’t
going to have the energy to make a big push during the night. Instead, I was already in survival mode. I questioned the value of taking that much
caffeine. Each Gu packet had either 35
or 40 mg., and I brought six of them.
I took a Gu packet at
9:30 that had 40 mg. of caffeine. At the
time, I thought I would take another at midnight. After that, I wasn’t sure.
Already, every lap was a
struggle. On top of that, the nighttime
hours are always difficult. I was almost
to the point where I could get to 100 miles just by walking the rest of the
way, but I didn’t want to give up on 180K.
That had been my primary goal.
Getting there, however, was going to mean 11 more hours of dragging
myself through painful, difficult laps.
I started to question why
that goal was even important to me.
Running 180K in a 24-hour race is a qualifying standard for the
Spartathlon, which is a hilly 150-mile race with a 36-hour time limit. Qualifying was only important if I was going
to try to get into that race, and I was starting to question that. Nothing about my race experience at FANS this
year led me to believe I could finish that race, and I wasn’t going to travel
overseas to a race if I wasn’t confident that I could finish. Still, I clung to that goal as long as it was
within reach.
For more that forty
years, I’ve been logging my daily mileage.
In an overnight race, I pay attention to where I am at midnight, so I
know how many miles I ran on Saturday and how many I ran on Sunday. At some point, I realized I could probably complete
two more laps before midnight, but I needed to pick up the pace a little. For two laps, I walked the hills, but I
didn’t walk the flat section after aid station 2.
By midnight I had already
logged 80.25 miles. At the pace of my
most recent lap, I might be able to get to 180K, but it was close. That lap had less walking. I only walked the hills. I couldn’t keep that up for the rest of the
race. I also didn’t need to stop for
anything during that lap. Most laps
would include bathroom stops or other small delays. Realistically, I couldn’t sustain a pace that
would get me to 180K. I might get close,
but I wouldn’t quite get there.
I couldn’t get to 180K,
but I could get to 100 miles easily. I
could walk casually for the rest of the race.
Instead, I continued to walk all the hills and I went back to power walking
the same segment I had been walking since the beginning of the race. I would get to 100 miles and then get in as
many additional miles as I could.
At my midnight weigh-in,
my weight was still the same. I
continued to only drink at one of the aid stations. Often, the Gatorade cups were so full that I
didn’t feel I could drink that much. I
looked for ways to get a little bit of liquid, without drinking too much at
once. After one of my laps, I had a cup
of cream of potato soup.
I had originally planned
to take another caffeinated gel at midnight, but I changed my mind. I had been making frequent bathroom
stops. Was the caffeine to blame? I don’t usually take caffeine during a race,
and this was why.
For most of the race, I
didn’t know where I stood in the overall standings. The woman who I expected to win was way out
in front. For the first half of the
race, she was on pace for a course record.
I didn’t know, however, if any of the men were ahead of me. I learned from John that I was leading the men’s
race at 8 PM, but I had no idea if I had lost the lead since then.
As I was nearing the end
of my 48th lap, I saw a runner go by who had already passed me at least
once. As it turns out, he had passed me
several times. I finish my lap just after
he finished his. I asked the lap
counters. He had already run 52 laps.
Now that I knew for sure
that I wasn’t a contender to win the men’s race, I had no incentive to push too
hard. For the rest of the race, I only
ran the downhill sections. I walked
everything else.
I still needed seven more
laps to get to 100 miles. Anything over
six laps seemed like a long way. When I
only needed six laps, it seemed more manageable. I had done several training runs on this
course, and I usually ran six laps.
There was one more
intermediate goal before 100 miles.
There was a sign marking 150K. I
would reach that early in my 52nd lap. I
got there in 19:22. After that, I just
needed to finish that lap and three more to get to 100 miles.
On my next lap, I saw the
moon over the lake. It rose about an
hour earlier. Now it was a reddish
crescent. It was just high enough in the
sky to be visible above the trees.
I was surprised to be
able to see clouds. Astronomical
twilight wasn’t until 4:00, but I was noticing clouds an hour before that. I didn’t think there was enough moonlight to illuminate
the clouds. The only other explanation I
could think of was urban light pollution.
Late in the race, I was
peeing excessively. Sometimes, I could
make it a lap and a half before stopping.
Sometimes I could only make it a lap.
On one lap, I had to stop twice.
I didn’t wait until 4:00 AM to do my last weigh-in. I weighed in a little early.
I assumed I must be
overhydrating. Why else was I peeing so
often? I fully expected my weight to be
up. It wasn’t. It was down a pound.
By now, I was hardly
drinking at all. Sometimes, I would go
two consecutive laps without drinking.
The weight loss made sense. What
I couldn’t understand was why I was peeing so often. It had been several hours since I had that
caffeinated gel, but 40 mg. is a large dose.
Was that still affecting me?
Each lap was now an
ordeal. I got through my 53rd lap and my
54th, but I was doing less and less running.
By now, I wasn’t even running all the downhill sections. My running wasn’t much faster than my walking,
but it allowed me to briefly use different muscles. That was really my only motivation to run at
all. It wasn’t much faster than my
walking pace, and it felt jarring when I ran down a hill.
I just needed one more lap
to get to 100 miles. The temperature had
been dropping all night, and I was no longer moving fast enough to stay
warm. For most of the night, I felt
cold, but I could put up with it. Now, I
wanted to put on a jacket.
John typically walks for
a couple hours and then takes a rest break.
Before starting again, he’ll change into a dry pair of shoes and
socks. That’s his way of coping with hot
weather without getting blisters. As I
reached the tent, I didn’t know if John was out on a lap or if he was trying to
take a nap. I didn’t want to risk waking
him, so I waited another lap before going into the tent to get my jacket.
I just needed one more
lap to get to 100 miles. I figured I
could cope with being cold for one more lap.
After I reached 100 miles, I would stop to put on a jacket. I would still have time to do a few more laps,
but I planned to stop running and just do casual walking instead of power
walking. As it turns out, waiting to put
on a jacket was a mistake.
I planned to power walk
most of the lap. Already, I was only
running the downhill sections. On this
lap, I only ran the two downhill sections that were steep enough to be
uncomfortable for walking. That was
another mistake. I wasn’t going fast
enough to keep warm.
My recollection is a
little fuzzy, but I think I was doing OK as far as aid station 2. I usually slowed down while crossing the
footbridge over Nine Mile Creek. After
the bridge, I tried to speed up, but I couldn’t. There was no power in my power walk. At the time, I didn’t understand what was
happening. In retrospect, I think I was
too cold for too long, and the blood vessels in my legs started to
constrict. That’s a problem I have. After that, my legs just wouldn’t work right. There wasn’t enough blood getting to my
muscles. There’s a medication I take
that helps with this condition. I
normally take it with dinner, but I didn’t have any pills with me during the
race. Add that to the mistakes I made.
I managed to walk the
rest of that lap, but it was slow and difficult. I knew when I finished this lap, I would be
done for the day. I finished the lap in
21:13:24, giving me exactly 100 miles.
I turned in my timing
chip and slowly walked back to our tent.
I still had more than two and a half hours, but I couldn’t go on. I needed to change into warm clothes so I
could recover.
I put on a warm pair of
wind pants, and I changed into dry shoes and socks. I was going to put on my Tyvek jacket, but
then I remembered that I had a warmer jacket in the tent. It was a rainproof jacket that I had brought
in case we had to set up in the rain.
John had a cold, so he
wasn’t inclined to push himself too hard.
His goal was to walk his age in miles.
About 20 minutes after I finished my last lap, John finished the lap
that brought him to his goal. Then he
also turned in his timing chip.
Because we both finished
early, we had lots of time to take down our tent and bring everything back to
the car. That’s a luxury we don’t
usually have. I couldn’t move very fast,
so I needed the extra time.
Even with the warm
clothes I was wearing, my hands started to get numb. I was wearing gloves, but underneath them my
fingers were probably turning white.
After bringing a few things to the car, I got in and started the engine
so I could turn the heat on. I put my
hands in front of the heat vents until my hands warmed up again.
We were all packet up an
hour before the race finished. Betty
brought John back to their hotel, so John could take a nap. I walked back to the finish area and waited
for the post-race breakfast and awards ceremony.
They started the ceremony
by recognizing the sponsors and volunteers.
Then a few of the FANS students spoke.
The first awards were for the RRCA state championships. My 100 miles was enough to win the
championship for men over 60. It’s the
second time in three years that I’ve won this award. I didn’t reach my more ambitious goals, but
at least I reached my attainable goal.
When they did the overall
awards, I discovered that I could’ve placed second among the men if I just did one more
lap. If I had changed into warmer clothes, I'm sure I could’ve done that.
As it was, I was in no shape to continue, even for one more lap.
Anyone who runs or walks
at least 100 miles gets a sweatshirt. The
sleeve says, “100 Miles in 24 Hours.” This
was the eighth time I ran or walked at least 100 miles at FANS, so I have several
of these shirts.
After the race, I was
unusually sleepy. That may be because I
had so much time to wind down after I stopped running. I had trouble staying awake during the awards
ceremony.
When I got home, Deb
helped me unload a few things from the car.
I needed to take a bath, but I struggled to keep from falling asleep in
the tub. After that, I tried to take a nap,
but I couldn’t get to sleep. It wasn’t
until later in the day that I could think clearly.
All day Sunday, I was
making trips to the bathroom, even though I wasn’t drinking that much. When I woke up on Monday, I weighed
myself. I was four pounds lighter than I
was on Saturday morning. I probably
metabolized a pound of fat during the race, but the rest of the weight loss was
water. I felt dehydrated.
It’s been more than a day
since I finished the race, so I’ve had time to think about what went
wrong. For starters, the next time I do
a race like this, I need to go back to having a target pace and sticking to
it. Going by feel doesn’t work. It’s too easy to go too fast and not realize
it until it’s too late.
I’m also going to go back
to avoiding caffeine during overnight races.
I’m pretty sure it was that one large dose of caffeine that was causing
me to pee so often. That made it hard to
know if I was hydrating properly. This
is why you shouldn’t try something new on race day.
Immediately after the
race, I was feeling pessimistic about doing other long ultras. Feeling like a train wreck for half the race
can make you question why you would want to do this again. I probably will do other long ultras, but next
time I need a better plan.
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