On Wednesday, June 25, I ran
the Native Jackal Trail Marathon. This
was the fifth and final race of The Jackal Marathons, and it was the toughest
of the five. When I signed up for this,
I knew it would be a challenge for me, but I was doing the first four, so I
figured I might as well do the fifth one while I was already here.
The venue for this race
was Chickasaw State Park, which is southwest of Henderson, TN. The drive time from where I was staying in
Jackson was about 35 minutes, but this race had a later start time. It didn’t start until 8:30 AM. On the plus side, I didn’t have to get up as
early. On the negative side, it meant I
wouldn’t finish until later in the afternoon, when it would be even hotter.
I thought I packed five
pairs of running socks. As I was getting
my clothes ready, I couldn’t find the fifth pair. Fortunately, I discovered this Tuesday
evening. I rinsed out the least muddy of
my four used pairs and hung them up to dry overnight. At home, they never would’ve dried that
quickly, but hotel rooms always seem to be bone dry. When I put them on, they still felt slightly
damp, but at least they weren’t sweaty or muddy.
One of the challenges of this
whole series has been hot evening temperatures that make it hard to get to
sleep. Even with the AC running day and
night, the room never completely cools down.
It took me a long time to get to sleep.
I eventually got some sleep, but I woke up two hours before my alarm and
couldn’t get back to sleep.
There were two pieces of
good news. My digestive system felt
stable, and my lower back wasn’t as painful.
Our course was a
2.65-mile loop, which we needed to run 10 times. The majority of the course was on forest
trails, but a portion was on roads. This
was the hilliest of the Jackal Marathons, with more than 400 feet of elevation
gain per lap.
I would be in the woods
most of the time, so I didn’t need to apply sunblock. I did need bug spray. I assumed there would be mosquitoes, and I
had read that the horseflies were particularly bad on this course.
As I was getting ready to
leave the hotel, I realized I had left my bug spray in the car. I had to wait until I got to the park before
applying that.
On Tuesday, I didn’t put
on my bandana until about a third of the way through the race. It was helpful for cooling me down, but only
for one lap. That bandana soaks up a lot
of water, so it’s heavy. Wearing that
extra weight when it only helps me for one lap doesn’t make sense. The cost outweighs the benefit. For this race, I started without it, although
I still brought it along, in case I changed my mind.
Another runner had told
me the time limit for this race was 8:30.
I wanted to confirm that. I’ve
never taken eight hours before, but this race could easily be the
exception. I asked Rob, and he said, “Don’t
worry. I’ll be behind you.”
Before each race, we
always lined up for a pre-race photo.
Before this race, we took an extra group pic of just the runners who
were doing all five marathons. 17
Runners signed up for all five. Of
those, one was unable to finish one of the other races. The other 16 all toed the line hoping to
complete the series. Spoiler alert: we
all finished.
During pre-race
announcements, the RD told us he wanted us all to finish, and he strongly
implied that he would give us as much time as we needed. Despite that reassurance, I still viewed 8:30
as a time I needed to beat.
For the first lap, I was
learning the course. We started out
running through the parking lot, and then we went up a small hill. Most of us walked up this hill. Next, we ran down a hill and past a building
with bathrooms. Then we ran a brief
segment with mixed surfaces. It was part
grass, part dirt, and part boardwalk, but it was all fairly runnable.
That took us to the main
section of road. At first, the road was
flat, as we ran past a lake. This
section was in the sun, so I always ran until I reached what the RD described
as the “Hill Up to Heaven.” It wasn’t a
steep hill, but it was long. Most of had
to walk the whole thing.
That road leveled off,
and then we turned onto another road that was slightly downhill. We weren’t on this road for very long before
leaving the road to get onto the trails.
There were signs, but I easily could’ve kept running straight on the
road. Fortunately, I saw where the
runner ahead of me was leaving the road.
After that, I knew where to look for the sign.
At this point, I was one
mile into the loop. The rest was all on
forest trails. My first impression was
that these trails were more runnable than the trails we ran on days one and two
of this series. There were roots, but
they were mostly on uphill and downhill sections. The roots seemed to naturally form
steps. If you paid attention to where
you need to step up or down, you wouldn’t trip on any roots.
There were a few sections
of roots on flat sections, including one particularly gnarly set of roots. I had to walk those. Otherwise, I was running the downhill and
flat sections and walking the uphill sections.
In general, the downhill
sections tended to be long and gradual.
By contrast, the uphill sections were shorter, but much steeper. When I saw the beginning of the first steep
hill, I said to the runner behind me, “This looks tough.” He had run these trails before, and he said,
“Yes, but wait until you reach the bad one.”
In all, there were four hills
that were so steep that it was tiring just to walk them. Also, it was slow going. You couldn’t walk up these hills at anything
close to a normal walking pace.
You could tell when you
were getting to the last steep hill, because there was a blue sign with an
arrow pointing to the left. Here, you
left the main trail and went straight up a hill. It was steep, but it wasn’t actually that
long. Halfway up this hill, you turned a
corner, and you could see the top. It
was marked by another arrow, where you turned back onto the main trail, and it
leveled off.
The last part of the hill
wasn’t as steep, and I could pick up the pace of my walking. It seemed like it was just a steady uphill
grade, but there were small logs built into the hill to make steps. I didn’t notice these logs and I caught my
foot on one of them. I didn’t fall, but
I stumbled forward so awkwardly that I aggravated my lower back. For the next minute or two, every step was
painful. I eventually loosened up, but
it made the rest of that lap more difficult.
From the top of this
hill, it was downhill to the end of the loop.
At first it was gradual and runnable.
Then it got steeper, and there were roots. At the end, there were actual steps, leading
down to the parking lot where we started.
After refilling my bottle
and putting ice in my hat, I checked my watch.
The first lap took me almost 42 minutes.
At that pace, I would take almost seven hours to finish. I knew I would slow down as it got hotter,
My impression after that
lap was that the trail section wasn’t really that long. It was only half as long as the trail loop we
ran on days one and two, and it didn’t seem to have as many turns per mile.
When I reached the trails
for the second time, the loop was longer than I remembered. At times, I wasn’t recognizing anything. After losing sight of the runner in front of
me, I sometimes wondered if I had made a wrong turn. Then I would see a trail marker or a section I
recognized. Other times I would get to a
section I recognized and realize I had forgotten it. Oh yeah, this is where we come out by the
lake. Oh yeah, this is where we cross
two streams. Oh yeah, I remember this
bridge.
I was still in my second
lap when a faster runner flew by me.
Every day, there were faster runners who would lap me once or twice, but
I didn’t recognize her. Besides the
marathon, there was a 10.6-mile race which was just four laps. I wondered if she was doing the 10.6. That would explain how she could run this
loop at such a fast pace.
My second lap was a few
minutes slower than my first lap. At the
pace of this lap, I would barely break 7:30.
I knew, if anything, I would keep slowing down.
The heat seemed to get worse
each day of this series. It only took
until 10:00 for the heat index to climb above 100. We were scheduled to start at 8:30, but
didn’t actually get started until after 8:40.
By the time I finished two laps, it was already after 10:00. I still had eight laps to go. It was going to take me several more hours to
finish, so I was spending much more time in extreme conditions.
Because we were on a relatively short loop, I went with a 16-ounce bottle again. If that wasn’t enough, there was a place
where we could refill about a mile into the loop. When I passed the bathrooms in my third loop,
I needed to stop to pee. That was a good
sign that I was drinking enough.
My third lap was more
like I expected. I recognized more
sections of the trail. I still couldn’t
remember everything, but I got a better feel for where the steep hills were and
what other sections came between them.
Other days, the humidity
got better as the temperature rose. This
race was the exception. It was always
humid running through the forest. The
vegetation around us seemed to pump more moister into the air. We were also near a lake and there were
streams. On days three and four, I felt
like I was in an oven. This race was
more like running in a sauna. I had
sweat streaming from every pore.
Four more of the fast
runners lapped me in this lap. I
expected at least three of them to lap me again before the race was over. The only possible exception was Hannah. She told me she had twisted her ankle and
would have to do a lot of walking now.
She was still determined to finish though. It’s worth noting that her walking was faster
than my walking, and it wasn’t long before I saw her running again.
My third lap took about
48 minutes. That was an eight-hour
pace. My first two laps had been faster,
but I expected to continue slowing down.
There was a very real possibility that this would be the first time I
ever took more than eight hours to finish a marathon.
It was during my fourth
lap that I started to pay more attention to my splits. My next two miles took more than 17 minutes
each. Then I had one that took 18
minutes. This was in spite of the fact
that I was running most of the sections that were flat or downhill. Where I had to walk, it was a slow walk. The steep hills were especially slow. On the steepest sections, I sometimes could
only take one step up before needing a second or two to catch my breath before
taking the next step up.
The fastest runner lapped
me again in lap four. That meant she was
on lap six. Now, I knew for sure that
she was doing the marathon. The 10.6
mile-race was only four laps. She went
on to win the race with a time that was blazing fast compared to everyone
else. In all, she lapped me three times.
Lap four took about the
same time as lap three. That was
encouraging, but I still expected to slow down.
As the race progressed, I wasn’t just feeling the humidity. The heat became more intense.
Early in lap five, I made
another bathroom stop. That was
encouraging, but it was the last bathroom stop I would make. Later in the race, 16 ounces of water or
Gatorade per lap wasn’t enough.
Early in the race, the
“Hill Up to Heaven” was mostly in the shade.
Now, more and more of it was in the sun.
I hated to walk when I was in the sun, because it meant spending more
time on hot pavement. On this hill,
there was no choice. It was all I could
do to force myself to run the flat section before the hill.
Shortly after getting
onto the trails in my fifth lap, I looked at my watch, and it read. 12.09
miles. I thought to myself that I only
had about a mile to the halfway mark.
Then I realized I had much more than a mile to get to the end of this
lap. When I finished the lap, my watch
was already reading 13.6 miles. That was
scary. Then you’re running under dense
tree cover and doing a lot of turns, your watch tends to underestimate how far
you actually ran. I noticed that in the
other trail races of this series. If my
watch said 13.6, how far did I realty run?
At packet pickup last
Friday, Lindsay had told me this course would be long. I think she said something about “bonus
miles.” Usually that refers to the extra
miles you run if you miss a turn and go off trail. In this case, it meant the extra miles you
get to run because the race distance is longer than advertised.
After five laps, I was
still on pace to break eight hours, but I didn’t think I would. It was getting more difficult to force myself
to run all the runnable sections of the trail.
I sometimes had to take extra walking breaks, just because of heat and
exhaustion.
In the second half of the
race, I noticed the heat more and more.
Earlier in the race, I was only drinking while walking up the big
hills. I typically didn’t take my last
drink until the last big hill. Now, I
was sometimes drinking at other times.
By the time I reached that last hill, my bottle was already empty. As I ran out of water or Gatorade earlier in
each lap, I wondered if I would need to start topping off my bottle at the
self-service aid station.
During my sixth lap,
several runners lapped me. One was the
speedy woman who went on to win the race.
She was lapping me for the third time.
Four other runners lapped me for the second time. One of them was Lindsay. She was the one who had told me to expect
this course to be long. As she went by,
I asked, “You said this course was a bit long, right?” She said, “Yeah. Your watch will probably read 27 miles.” Knowing that my watch was probably
underestimating the distance, I asked, “So that means it’s actually what?” Her reply was, “Who knows?’ I expected my watch to read more than 27
miles by the time I finished, and I wondered if I was actually running something closer to 28.
In the previous two
races, I was bothered by biting flies.
The flies I encountered along that course where black and white. In this race, I encountered some of those,
but there was another type of biting fly that was much more plentiful. These flies had yellow and black wings, and
they were about the size of a penny.
When they bit you, they just kept feeding until you swatted them. That’s harder to do on the trails, because
you don’t want to get distracted and trip on a root. If you just brush them away, they come right
back, and you can’t outrun them.
When I slapped one, it
sometimes left a spatter of blood on my leg.
One time, I had a blood stain on my hand the size of a quarter and a
similar blood stain on my leg. It was amazing
how much blood those things were sucking out of me.
The flies didn’t get bad
until the second half of the race. By my
sixth lap, I didn’t know if I could tolerate this for four more laps. If anything could make me quit, it was the
flies.
I had applied bug spray
before the race, but I’m sure it had long since rinsed away. Between my sweat and the ice water dipping
from my hat, I was always soaking wet.
The last runner to pass
me that lap was Hannah. She caught up to
me just before the last steep hill. Her
ankle didn’t seem to be slowing her down at all. As we walked up the last hill, I wondered if
she would see the blood on my leg and think I had taken a bad fall. I told her, “Don’t worry about the blood on
my leg. That’s just from the flies. They’re eating me alive.” Then she said, “There’s one on your
knee.” Sure enough, another fly was
eating me.
I continued to pay
attention to my mile splits. Some had
been slower than 19 minutes, but they were all faster than 20. That was my goal now. Keep every mile under 20 minutes. You might think I could walk that fast, but
walking on the trails was always slower than that. On the steep hills, it was much slower. The only way I could keep my average pace
under 20 was to keep enough running in the mix.
By my seventh lap, I was
tempted to just walk the rest of the way.
What kept me occasionally running was knowing that I needed to if I was
going to finish in eight and a half hours.
My time after seven laps
was 5:33. If I could keep my remaining
laps times under 59 minutes, I would make it.
I just had to run wherever I could.
That was easier said than done.
Sometimes I would start a long section that was gradually downhill and
mostly soft pine needles. I would tell
myself I could run this. After 10 steps,
I could be walking again. Exhaustion was
forcing me to walk even where I was easily running earlier in the race.
The flies were still
eating me alive. When I finished that
lap, the volunteers at the aid station sprayed my back, legs, and arms with
Deep Woods Off. That helped. The flies left me alone for most of the next
lap.
Lap eight took
51 minutes. That was encouraging. I knew I could break 8:30, if I could keep
some running in the mix.
Rob had just finished his
seventh lap. I was going slow, but he
was now a full lap behind me. There were
also a couple of other runners behind me.
I knew I wouldn’t be the last runner on the course, but I still was
strongly motivated to keep my time under 8:30.
When I got to the Hill Up
to Heaven, I saw something I didn’t expect.
The road was shady now. It was
late afternoon, and the sun was getting lower in the sky.
As usual, I had to walk
all the way up the hill. After that hill,
the road levels off. I used to be able
to resume running there. Now I couldn’t
run until I turned and started downhill.
I had been watching my current pace as I walked up the long hill. It got to be slower than 20 minutes at
times. I hoped to pick up the pace now
that I was running. I couldn’t get my
current pace any faster than 17. That
was running downhill! I began to wonder
if running was worth the effort. I still
tried, but I wasn’t able to run as often.
Shortly after getting
back onto the trail, I reached the self-service aid station. I needed to top off my bottle to make sure I
would have enough to get through the lap.
There was a Gatorade dispenser on the ground. There was also a water dispenser on a table. I wanted Gatorade, but I didn’t think my back
could tolerate bending down that low. I
topped off my bottle with water.
The heat hit me hard in
that lap. Going up hills that weren’t
very steep, I got out of breath. On the
steepest hills, I was staggering slowly until I eventually reached the top.
I knew I could no longer
keep my mile times under 20 minutes, but I could afford to give back a few
minutes on each hill. My new goal was 20
minutes plus an extra two minutes for each steep hill. That made me feel better about my slow
progress on the steep hills. My miles
with steep hills were always under 22 minutes.
My time after nine laps
was 7:23. I could break 8:30, even if I
walked all of it. At the aid station,
the RD asked me if I wanted ice in my bottle.
He filled my bottle with ice and then added Gatorade.
Before adding ice to my
hat, I put on my bandana, which had been soaking in ice water all day. It was extra weight, but it felt really
refreshing, and I only needed to wear it for one lap.
As I started up the small
hill after the parking lot, I started drinking my Gatorade. With the ice, it felt really refreshing.
I could run here and
there, but even on the flat road sections, I needed walking breaks. When I hit the trails, I could only run
downhill sections that were too steep to walk comfortably.
At the self-service aid
station, I topped off my bottle. Again,
I wanted Gatorade, but settled for water, so I wouldn’t have to bend too low.
The heat hit me even
harder on that lap. Even on small hills,
I was getting intensely out of breath. I
was on the verge of heat stress. My
bandana warmed up before I even reached the trails. The ice in my hat had already melted.
I measured the rest of
that lap by the number of steep hills I had left. The stuff in between didn’t matter. The first hill was the worst, but I made it
to the top, one step at a time.
The second hill, wasn’t
as steep, but I still had to take it one step at a time. Another runner who was also on his last lap
easily moved past me on that hill. It
seemed like that happened every time I was on this hill.
After what seemed like a
long time, I looked at my watch. It had
read 13.6 after five laps, so I expected it to read 27.2 at the finish. I was at 26.4. I still had eight tenths to go.
I kept moving forward
past familiar landmarks on terrain that should’ve been runnable, but no longer
was. I periodically checked my
distance. I was at 26.5, then 26.6, then
26.7. I only had half a mile to go, but
there were still two steep hills.
As I made my way up the
next hill, I heard conversation behind me.
Two other runners were getting closer.
On day one of this
series, I remembered talking to another runner when I was on my last lap. When I asked him if he was on his last lap,
he said he was, but it would have been his last lap regardless. There’s no way he could’ve started another
one.
That’s how I felt
now. To get through this lap, I was
pushing myself to my absolute limit. If
I still had one lap to go, I would’ve quit.
I was already in the red zone, and attempting to go any farther probably
would’ve ended with a trip to the hospital.
Finally, I reached the
last hill. I still had water in my
bottle, but I was too tired to drink it.
Drinking got me out of breath. I
paused to collect myself, and then I staggered slowly up the last hill. The voices of the runners behind me got
closer.
After that hill, I needed
to walk long enough to recover. Then I
told myself I could run the downhill to the finish. I ran for a few steps, and then I had to
walk. I ran for a few more steps, and I
had to walk again.
Where it gets steeper, I
ran a little more, taking care to avoid the roots. I was almost to the steps when I heard
Lindsay say, “Here comes David.” I ran
the last little bit to get to the finish line.
I finished in
8:17:41. According to my watch, I ran
27.32 miles. The actual distance was
probably farther.
In addition to my
finisher medal, I received a belt buckle for completing all five Jackal
Marathons.
I had to sit for a few
minutes to cool down before I could stand up for my post-race mugshot. I didn’t see this photo until the next
morning. As bad as I look in this photo,
I felt even worse.
When I could, I walked to
the car, where I had a dry pair of shoes and socks. Getting out of the wet pair was easy. Putting on the dry pair was difficult. The hard part was reaching down to put my
socks on. Besides the pain in my lower
back, I also had trouble doing that without making my feet and calves cramp up.
As I sat there in the
finish area, I realized that I never would’ve started this race if I had any
idea how bad I would feel in those last two laps. Was it worth it? I’m sure in a few days, I’ll be glad I finished
this series, but I paid a price for it.
I’m glad it’s over, and I’ll never do it again.
When I checked my phone
after the race, the temperature was 92 degrees, and the heat index was
102. It was after 5:00, so it had
actually cooled down some from the hottest part of the afternoon. I later learned that the peak temperature was
95, and the heat index peaked at 109. I’ve never run in weather that hot before, and I was in it for more than
eight hours.
There was a tradition of
everyone meeting for dinner at a diner in Henderson. Sadly, that place burned down a few months
ago. Instead, we were going to meet at a
restaurant in Jackson. A few runners
were still on the course, including Rob, who had yet to start his last
lap. That gave me time to drive back to
my hotel, get cleaned up, and change into clean clothes. Lindsay was going to send me a text when
everyone was ready to leave.
The drive back to Jackson
takes about 35 minutes. I was already
getting thirsty again, so I needed a beverage for the road. I left with a cup filled with ginger ale and
ice.
As I was driving back to
Jackson, I had the AC on. It helped cool
me down, but at some point, it started to feel unsettling. I really felt like I was off. I may have been dehydrated, I may have been
depleted of electrolytes, and I was definitely exhausted from the heat. It was probably a combination of the three.
I knew dinner would be
late, and I was starting to get hungry.
I decided to stop at a Taco Bell to get a burrito to tide me over until
dinner. I went through the drive-thru
lane, and they asked me if I ordered with their app. I didn’t.
Then there was a long pause.
After a minute or two, I told them to let me knew when they were
ready. Then they said it would be 15 or
20 minutes. I don’t order fast food
much, but it that normal? If you didn’t
order online, it’s a 20-minute wait? I
didn’t have time for that.
There were a few other
fast food restaurants, but I didn’t want anything too filling. Also, I wanted something I could eat while
driving. A burrito works. A sandwich or burger doesn’t. I ended up driving back to the hotel.
When I got to the hotel,
I bought another bag of BBQ potato chips.
It was my fifth or sixth bag in two days. I wanted something with more substance, but
at least it was salty. It didn’t sit
well.
I got cleaned up and
changed into dry clothes. Then I drank
some water. At 7:00, I got a text. There wasn’t going to be a post-race dinner. It was getting too late, and everyone was
wiped out. That may have been just as
well, because I probably wasn’t up to going back out.
I had dinner in the hotel
restaurant. I order a pizza. I wanted to have a beer, but I stuck with
water instead. I ate my pizza a bite at
a time, and had sips of water. I had to
take my time. If I put too much in my
stomach, I might throw up.
I finished a tall glass
of water, but I could only eat about two thirds of my pizza. I got a to-go box for the rest and saved it
for breakfast.
I had trouble getting to
sleep that night. My room was too
hot. Once again, it was so hot outside,
that the air conditioner just couldn’t keep up.
Each night was worse. The first
night, the room was 69 degrees when I went to bed. The next two nights it was 70. On Monday night, it was 71. Tuesday night, it was 72. When I went to bed on Wednesday, the room was
73 degrees. I can’t get to sleep when
it’s that warm.
It took me until 3:00 to
get to sleep. I only slept for about an
hour. Then I couldn’t get back to
sleep. I was tired, but I felt better than
I did the night before.
By morning, I was passing
more fluid than I was drinking. My urine
was clear. I may have been dehydrated
after the race, but now I seemed to be fully hydrated again.
I had no trouble eating
my leftover pizza for breakfast. My
digestive system was doing better now.
As I was packing, I found
my missing socks. Somehow, they got
stuck inside of one of my hats.
As I was bringing my bags
out to the car, I discovered that lifting my bags was enough to get me slightly
out of breath. I may have rehydrated,
but I had not yet recovered from overheating.
Driving back to Memphis I still felt a little off. Lack of sleep accounted for part of that, but
the heat took a lasting toll on me as well.
For the first four races
of this series, I was careful not to overexert myself in the heat. I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to
recover in time for the next race. If
there had been another race today, I wouldn’t have been able to run it. I wouldn’t even start. Just doing normal things was difficult. I pushed my body too hard, and it will take
time to recover.
I was able to push myself
to finish only because I knew it was the last day. I think that was also true for several of the
other runners. This race was harder than
the other races in this series, and it was on the hottest day. Thankfully, it was also the last day.
These races were tough,
and the weather was brutal, but I have high praise for the RD and the
volunteers. They go out of their way to
welcome you, and they give you what you need to keep going and finish. I didn’t get to know many of the other
runners, but everyone I met was friendly and full of encouragement.
There are some badass runners in this group. I’d love to have a chance to get to know some
of them better, but I would need better weather conditions.
Race statistics:
Distance: officially 26.2 miles, but actually farther
Time: 8:17:41
Average Pace: 18:59 per mile (based on the official distance)
First Half: 3:51:25
Second Half: 4:26:16
Peak temperature: 95 degrees
Peak Heat Index: 109 degrees
Marathons/Ultras in 2025: 16
Lifetime Marathons/Ultras: 551
