It has been 11 months since I finished a race. That was Bandera. An attempt at Lake Bryan back in September left me with my only DNF. I am feeling rough even on the first loop, but not rough enough to even think about the DNF. Four months without running, recovery from unrelated surgery, and a new job that demands too much of my time have turned me into a very different runner. The extra pounds I’ve picked up this year add to that situation. I’m not here for awards. I’m here to finish a race. I’m here to push myself back toward where I was before. I’ve heard about the terrain at Huntsville. Flat. Easy. No hill you can’t see over. So that is not quite true. It’s not quite flat. The hills are a little taller than I am; although, the slope is usually easy to run. Or would be if I wasn’t going 50 miles. I run a few of the hills early being the fool I am but quickly settle into walking up and running down. I hate the sand. There are several spots it is really bad but not very many. There are also roots and stumps. Many are hidden. I went down twice and made two great recoveries. Because I haven’t run in so long, this is the first I’ve seen of many of my running friends in a long time. It’s good to see Joe, Henry, and Mark before the race. I will pass them each several times during my four loops. Henry most often as he seems to stay about the same distance ahead of me for a while. Joe very little as he is wearing his jet pack today. I’m just glad not to see the back of his head as he laps me, but he did come close. The plan had been to target 2:30 each lap expecting to slow a bit with each one. The first is too fast around 2:15. But the hammys are already tight. I have no idea how I can be hurting 10 miles into a 50 mile race. It isn’t bad, and I’m not quitting. It is just not a good sign for things to come. The second lap is close to target, but I know I’m not going to hold the pace. Also, the stomach is playing games, and I end up wasting time in another porta potty, my such break so far. My usual routine between laps is to slam protein, pack another bag of shot blocks, fill the bottle, and get out fast. I also grab the mp3 player this time. The combination makes for a long stop. This is time better spend on the course. In general, I spend very little time in aid stations. My plan has me skipping most of them as my 26oz bottle is enough for many miles in this weather. It was during the third loop I realized my fueling error. While my combination of Cliff Shot Blocks and Gatorade a generally enough, I was not drinking as much due to the cold weather. I’m still not really stopping at the aid stations unless I need the bottle refilled, but I swipe a coke or cookie each time I pass to pick up a few extra calories. Somehow, this also seems to settle my stomach. The third loop of four is the loop of doubt. I’m walking much more and can’t seem to move very fast when I do run. The course is just getting familiar enough to fool me into thinking I’m closer to the next aid station than I really am. I’m questioning if I can make myself go back out again. I know I can, but somehow I dread the effort of starting the final loop. At the end of the loop, the clock tells me I’ve slowed but not nearly as much as I had feared. I make the usual pickup at the drop bag and dump a beach out of my shoes. I’m trying to not repeat the long stop of the last loop and get back out before I can think about quitting and getting warm. I do make it out quickly and just want to keep moving forward. I’m a mile up the trail before I realize my first mistake. I may have dumped out sand from the shoes, but suddenly the right one wants to rub the back of my heel the wrong way. I had another pair in the drop bag. Along with the light. Two lights actually. Still sitting a mile back in the bag with the shoes I wish I had on. At my current pace, I’m going to finish in the dark and with blisters. I considered going back for them. Instead I pushed on a little faster. Now I’m no longer being lapped by faster runners. I get passed some but often pass them back in the aid stations. As slow as I feel, I’m still passing people at times. The legs keep getting tighter and tighter. I’m still walking uphill and running downhill. In the flats, I’m picking points ahead of me to run to. Soon there are glow sticks out. Walk to the next two glow sticks. Run to the next three. As I hit the last aid stations to fill my bottle one last time, half the volunteers are at the lake watching the sun set. I have less than three miles to go with daylight fading fast. I pass two more runners only caring about how much light is left. At the interpretive center, I feel another runner behind me. I fly down the long hill leaving him behind. He starts to catch me again as I walk up the next. I pull ahead with each downhill. He reels me back in as we go up. Sounds like a logical story for a 235 pound ultra runner. The finish is not downhill enough for me to have an advantage. And after 50 miles, there is no sprint in me. It wasn’t until after I finish that I realized how hard I had been pushing. I picked up my swag, grabbed a burger, and went over to the HCTR tent to see who was left. I enjoyed the burger intending to help with the last tent as most everything else was taken care of. Unfortunately, the day had one more card to deal. I had been cold the whole day. I thought I would be dropping off clothes into the drop bag as the day warmed. I dropped nothing as I never felt I was warming up. I had put on an old heavy coat as I was eating, but soon even that wasn’t enough. I knew I had to get dry. I had to get warm. After changing clothes and warming up in the car, I never quite made it back to help. Being warm and dry, I couldn’t make myself go back out into the cold. Overall, I’m satisfied. I didn’t perform to plan, but I did PR by 30 minutes. I am also already over most of my soreness. Some pains remain, but none feel like they will be sticking around for the long term.