I woke up the day after the race feeling like the luckiest guy in the world. Not because I was able to finish the Texas Independence Relay (203 miles) solo. But because I was able to pack a lifetime of deep, meaningful, surreal, life-changing experiences and discoveries into a single weekend! The word “solo” is very misleading in this race because it implies this is an individual sport. Though there is only one runner, it is very much a team effort. It would be virtually impossible for an individual to achieve this without support. And why would you want to? Ultrarunners (races longer than a marathon) form bonds under duress that could never be matched under normal circumstances. And the team extends beyond just those who played a role this weekend. Ultrarunners such as Joe Prusaitis and countless others from other running clubs such as Tejas Trail Nerds and Hill Country Trail Runners have contributed to the body of knowledge necessary to participate in this sport. The irony of this sport doesn’t end with a “solo” runner needing to be part of a team. This sport requires meticulous planning, yet you must be willing to instantly adapt to constantly changing situations and conditions. It requires a complete knowledge of health and nutrition yet sometimes what you need is a Nutty Bar, Corn Nuts, and a Coke. It necessitates extreme physical training but the true challenge is to master the mental discipline required to go on when things are at their darkest and most hopeless. To restrain your brain from evaluating the monumental task and focus on what you can do right now. It is a ridiculously outdated means of long-distance transportation yet is the only vehicle that can transform the driver along the route. The question “why” inevitably comes up when people hear about extreme endurance events. For me personally, one of the reasons I do it is akin to a phenomenon which exists in many cultures. Native Americans called them “spirit walks”. In Australia, people go on “walkabouts”. Basically, you voluntarily put yourself in a situation where you are forced in to self-reflection, self-discovery, pushing yourself to extreme limits, developing and using all of your skills to survive or succeed, and ultimately defining for yourself who you really are. I don’t say “finding yourself” because I think every day we wake up is another chance to define who we want to be. These events do show you more about who you are at the moment but they also change you. Words fail to explain the phenomenon. I also have to admit that I have used these big events as a distraction from other difficult or painful things going on in my life. Hey, there are worse ways that people distract themselves so I won’t feel bad. Also, having a huge, scary event on the horizon gives you that little extra “push” out of the bed at 4am to go train. You certainly don’t have to run that far to be healthy. And most ultrarunners I know do not suffer from low self-esteem or feel they need to prove something to someone else. The reasons differ by person but once I explain what I experienced this weekend, maybe you will understand... a little anyway. This weekend, I was able to:
In order for anyone to run 50+ miles, there are certain areas of self-mastery and self-management that are required. Of course there is the physical training that is involved which includes training the muscles, ligaments, heart, lungs, and joints to withstand the rigors of exercising hour after hour. Typical training routines involve running 20-30 miles on BOTH days of the weekend during peak training weeks. I try to do mine at all odd hours to avoid having it interfere with family activities. But in addition to physical training, there is an art to maintaining the body’s balance of nutrition, electrolytes, and hydration. This is one of the most significantly difficult things to master because requirements vary depending on so many factors. Takes sometimes years to learn what your body needs at any point during the race. Then as soon as you figure it out, your body will change. While the physical aspects of running are the foundation required to complete such a task, an equally, if not greater aspect of this sport is the mental discipline required to run hour after hour and to keep going when you have really really good excuses to stop. When I was starting out in Gonzales with 203 miles ahead of me, I simply could not allow myself to think about what lay before me. Sure, I had to think enough about the future to plan properly and know my route. But beyond that, worrying about the future is a waste of energy. Initially, I could think about the next mile or the next five miles. But as the race progressed and the pain and fatigue increased, I could not even allow myself to think about something being a mile away. I had to bring my attention down to the “right now” and just focus on my body running without expectation of anything in the future. No matter how near in the future it was. This is just like any person who finds themselves in a horrible or impossible life situation who could easily be overwhelmed with the monumental task of changing things. They have to make a detailed plan to know where they want to go, they have to make a specific plan with achievable and measurable goals, and then execute the small steps of that plan and mark off the milestones to end up where they want to be. Neither just sitting around all day every day, lamenting to all of my friends how hard this was going to be NOR just running off in any direction without a plan was going to get me to the monument on Sunday. Specific Goal Specific Plan Execute each step with focus Adjust/Repeat THE PLAN I wanted to finish when most of the other runners were finishing which was between noon and 6pm on Sunday. Unfortunately, I had no idea of how my body would respond beyond mile 100. So all I could do was build a complex spreadsheet with locations, estimated pace, estimated slow-down rates, and planned time to rest and used all of these to calculate my projected times by location as well as a projected finish time. Based on my broad assumptions, I decided that I should start at 4pm on Thursday and try to be done by 2pm on Sunday. 70 hours. The only runner to ever finish the race solo did it in almost 73 hours. Here was my initial plan:
Originally, I was going to do this race without a crew. I was going to buy what I needed, carry a lot of food/water on my back, and leave water along the way where there was none to be found. To know what I needed at each location, I decided to drive the race course two weeks before the race. I took notes of potential drop locations, houses with water faucets handy, stores, etc. This was a critically important move because of two things. First, it helped me avoid making some wrong turns during the race. And secondly, it helped me realize that you’d have to be a stronger person than me to carry all of that stuff and still finish. These small towns shut down at 10pm and there just wasn’t enough places to purchase all that was needed. So I gave in and decided to have someone crew. Initially, I was going to have my daughter drive the whole way. But thankfully, my brother, Dan, agreed to drive from my 79 to the finish which turned out to be a critically important factor. Jay (the race director) and I discussed the rules, and the only rule that was different for me from the other teams of runners was that at no point during the race was I to be in any moving form of transportation other than my own two feet. That meant I couldn’t even be taken to a hotel and then returned to the same spot. I like that rule and think it is fair and avoids confusion.
Fix up 4 bottles of drink at a time. Date is wrong on the camera-lol. Not 2030.
Me and Ashley RACE DAY Start – 10.26 miles (Prologue-Leg 2) Ashley (my 18 year old daughter) and I arrived at Gonzales at 2pm on Thursday March 5th. My car was full of water, equipment, and tons of food. I had told Jay I would start at 4pm so we looked for a place to rest until then. Somehow, we ended up napping on some bean bags in an unoccupied church building (already practicing creative problem-solving) until almost race time. Jay sets the time and does an official “GO” and with the little fanfare that you would expect of a single runner starting a 203 mile race, I’m off to run around the block before heading out on the road. The temperature was in the 80s but I didn’t have to spend too long in the heat before the day started to fade. In these rural areas, you just have to have a dog deterrent with you. I had to use my stick within 30 minutes of the start. I know if I would not have it, I would have been attacked several other times. Most dogs respect a raised stick and an aggressive yell though. For a few miles, Ashley would drive ahead a couple of miles and stop to wait. I had her set up with a wireless cell card for the computer so she could surf the net and keep herself entertained, trying to make it as painless as possible. I also offered her a cash prize if I finished-ha. I didn’t need anyone trying to encourage me to quit so they could go home and see their boyfriend ;). Just planning ahead. Nutrition early in the race was my special mix of Perpetuum, pure maltadextrin (I buy it by the 50 lb bag), and a Nuun tab for electrolytes as my drink. I had Cliff Bloks to supplement as I felt I could tolerate more calories. NO MARGARITA FLAVOR!!! Those made me sick the last two 100s I did. The 3x extra sodium I think. I ran facing traffic and felt safe until cars would swish by within mere feet of me while passing some other vehicle. I almost wished I had one of those cycling mirrors on my hat to see behind me. The end of Leg 2 is 10.26 miles and is also where Sam Houston’s Oak stands. I’m not sure what he did under this tree, but I bet it was significant! Ashley took my picture under the tree. At this point and for the next 12 miles, the road is dusty dirt and gravel and has some gently rolling hills.
Leg 3-Leg 5 (Sam Houston’s tree to shiner-mile 10.26-26.15) Having had trouble with exercise induced asthma in the past, I put a bandana over my face to minimize the dust I was breathing. Evening found us in this very rural area. I started to add some solid food here. Lunchables with crackers, cheese, and turkey go down nicely. My drink is still the cake-mix tasting concoction that I’ll drink most of the whole race. As it starts to get dark, I put on the reflective belt, changed into a dry shirt, and put on “cami” my $4 cowboy hat that has become somewhat of a tradition in my ultras. For a good period of time, Ashley drives along fairly near me with her window down, playing some very good music. I’m half running, half dancing to the music, much to her entertainment. As it gets dark about 17 miles in, I’ve switched over to singing at the top of my lungs “Crazy” by Patsy Cline and of course making up my own words describing the idiotic thing I was attempting to do this weekend. “Crazy… Crazy for being out here… I’m so crazy….”. Ashley had her phone out the window so her boyfriend could hear. Good times with her crazy dad.
We had to be really careful in this section because there are a good number of turns and the roads aren’t marked well. In a race like this, mental control is something that has to have been refined in other ultras. You have to break the race down in sections in your mind. The first section was to make it to a Shiner gas station which I had confirmed was open 24 hours. When we got close, I sent Ashley up ahead so she could refuel and take a break. I think I was about 26 miles in and had been running for 5 ½ hours. Not very fast by marathon standards but I had to waste time getting food and gear from the car periodically. A trained crew could have eliminated a lot of this wasted time by anticipating and providing these things for the runner. Finally made it to the gas station, got my lawn chair out and sat down for the first time since I started. I would be on asphalt the rest of the race so I cleaned my feet, relubed, and put on fresh socks for the night. I always eat FIRST when I stop. This allows for some digestion while I’m stopped doing other things. Blueberries, turkey wrap and I’m full again. Spend about 15 minutes here. A little behind my guessed time but doing ok. You have to learn to feel your body’s optimal endurance pace and stay close to that.
Leg 6 – Leg 9 (Shiner – Flatonia Miles 26.15-44.49) I think I start this section about 9:45pm. Basically, it is 18.5 miles to the next major milestone which is Flatonia. This section turned out to be very special because I spent much of the time on the lonely Texas highway with no one around. I would send Ashley up about 5-8 miles to park and get some sleep. Not many cars after a while. It was very special sometimes running down the middle of the highway, nothing but me, the cows, armadillos, and the wide open Texas sky with clouds rushing by, periodically dimming the bright, full moon. Seemed like this whole 18.5 miles was uphill but I could be wrong. I typically have an energy dip after 20+ miles in an ultra and this was no exception. Just kept eating, kept drinking, and didn’t EVER think about how far I had to go. Just running. Appreciating the sights and sounds and enjoying the feeling of the unimaginable experience of covering a large chunk of Texas on foot. Alone. In the middle of the night. Most people (including me) get wrapped up in their thoughts and forget to enjoy just being where they are. I didn’t this time. Had a few encounters with a few local law enforcement officers. I guess the night shift hadn’t heard about the race and wanted to be a bit chit-chatty when you are on a timeline but were nice enough. I was wearing Injinji toe socks with a thin nylon sock over them to prevent blisters. The shoes I chose to wear up until now were these really light Mizuno road shoes. I decided to go with light as opposed to extra padding because I just wanted to use as little energy as possible. With size 15 shoes, every bit helps. But I was starting to feel a problem with the top of my foot that I had experienced before. A bruising of sorts. Maybe it was brought on by the extra nylon sock. This is where experience comes in because I knew if I had continued to run without changing anything, that bruising could become terribly painful. Just like in life, deal with problems while they are small instead of waiting until they are big. So I had to take pressure off the top of my foot by loosening my shoe strings. This helped with the bruising but I think contributed to the terrible blistering problem I would encounter beyond 70 miles. Again, as typical of my ultras, mile 35 I started to pick up strength again and rolled in to Flatonia, mile 44.49, feeling strong and confident. Time was about 2:45am I think. My brother calls to check on me. He will meet me in Columbus tomorrow about 11am to take over crewing activities. He reminds me I have a long way to go and tells me to slow down. We’ve spent a lot of time backpacking the Colorado mountains so he knows me pretty well.
Leg 10-11 (Flatonia to Schulenburg – miles 44.49 – 56.99) There is NOTHING open between Flatonia and Schulenburg at this hour so in an effort to keep my daughter off the highway as much as possible, I had her park in a safe spot to sleep in Flatonia and let me head out on the highway for a while. About half-way through, I called her to bring some food/water and then she drove on to Schulenburg. I tried to ignore the “Houston 120 miles” sign as I passed, knowing that I had about 40 miles beyond that sign before I would reach the San Jacinto Monument. Like I said, you have to break things down in to manageable sizes. Major goal, reach Columbus at 11am tomorrow. Mile 79. I had a hotel reserved on the route and planned to shower and sleep for a couple of hours. In by 11am, out by 2:30pm. That was a major goal. No need to think beyond that. But I had an even closer goal to motivate me. I knew in Schulenburg was a Whataburger!!! Ashley was already there, asleep in its parking lot. As I approached town, I called her to buy me some pancakes, eggs, and black coffee. As I approach the intersection, I see a nice park bench and then right on queue, Ashley shows up with my food. 6:15 am - Mile 56. Second time to sit down in 14 hours, I took off my shoes, ate, and lubed my feet. Ah the small things in life can be so precious. As I leave town, a woman stopped on the side of the road and asked if I was the “solo guy”. I said “yes” and she said she figured there wouldn’t be anyone out cheering for me so she showed up. I said “yea, you are the only one”. So she cheered, I waved, and then left town with a little more pep in my step. How thoughtful of her. That’s just what kind of people are in the sport of running. She was going to start the relay the next day.
Leg 12-16 (Schulenburg – Columbus – miles 56.99-79) This section I call “blister hell”. Triple meaning in this because I had the worst blister pain which slowed me down and “hell” because it was hotter'n hell with the sun baking and blistering me from above while the heat radiated off the blacktop from the other direction. I let Ashley stay back in Schulenburg a while to sleep more and I headed out of town. 5 miles. 8 miles. I called Ashley to catch up so I could get more water. She sleepily said “ok” and hung up. 12 miles. 15 miles. Still no Ashley. No water. I call her again. “hellooooo”. I said , “you aren’t coming with water are you?”. “Oh sorry”. So she finally caught me and I got a much needed drink. They were starting to set up for the runners and there was a sign with “Texas Independence Relay” on it. I took a picture pointing to the word “relay” with an inquisitive look like “I could have done this as a relay????” haha.
The blisters were killing me. I slowed to a crawl. I should have stopped to work on them but just kept imagining the clean, cool hotel room I had reserved and how nice it would be to have a clean environment to pop my blisters. Miles inched slowly by. I baked. I’m going to be late getting there. Each step my feet screamed with pain. I called ahead to Columbus and ordered a pizza to be ready when I got there. I stopped at a small store to buy safety pins to pop my blisters. They were out so I bought fish hooks instead. Gotta watch those barbs I thought. I made it to the hotel and removed my shoes to examine the damage. Huge blood blisters (blisters filled with blood). Blisters everywhere. Rick Cook, who was going to meet me as a pacer the next day, talked to Dawn Craig and she called me to talk me through patching up my feet. Showered, relubed, cleaned feet with alcohol, used blister block bandaides, and covered the blister block with a bit of elasticon tape to keep them from coming off. I was late getting there so only slept for 1 hour but it was nice. Just what I needed. Had arrived about 12:30pm and I had been running for about 20 hours. Someone with less experience might have thought their race was done given the condition of my feet. But the thought of quitting never entered my mind. Not then, not at any point during the whole race. Just keep doing the best I could in the moment, decide what issues needed to be dealt with, plan a little ahead, and move on. Just basking in the narrow, safe, space of the NOW. Never ever thinking about what was left to do. Well…. Almost never….
Legs 17-18 (Columbus – Altair – miles 79-90.5) My brother, Dan, took over crewing for Ashley and let her go home. She did a great job getting me this far, and I enjoyed so much sharing that experience with her. Dan and I have experienced many adventures together backpacking the Continental Divide in Colorado (where the Hardrock ultra is held) so we have experienced a lot together. It was a life-saving blessing to have him there. My initial steps on the patched up feet were excruciating. Even with patches on the blisters, there was still raw skin underneath. I just pressed against them and let the pain flow through me. If you allow yourself to fully feel pain, whether emotional or physical, really feel it instead of resist it, embrace it, it somehow diminishes. “Come on blisters…. Is that all you got??” This is true for physical and mental/emotional pain. After a mile or so, I guess the nerves were tired of screaming and the pain subsided. I was moving well again. Except now I faced what had to be at least a 20 mile per hour head wind. Ten miles of leaning at an almost 45 degree angle to stay upright. I became mesmerized by the individual blades of grass all dancing with synchronicity in the gusting wind. No resistance. Just yielding to overcome and survive. So beautiful and perfect. Ok, maybe I’m a bit sleep deprived ;). Pass a dead, rotting armadillo. Ahhh. So that is what they mean by the sweet smell of death!!!! I get it!! It does smell sweet. Brother did a fantastic job of keeping me fed. He would drive way ahead, allow me to catch him, then allow me to pull way ahead of him. He had binoculars to keep an eye on me in case I waved for help. Great service. I was starting to get goofy. Found a tiny American flag on the side of the road and stuck it in the top of my cowboy hat to let it fly in the wind above my head as I ran down the highway. I thought it was appropriate, given the race I was doing. Found a dead hawk and added feathers to my hat. Really getting goofy now. Brother giving “he’s getting goofy” updates to my family who started posting blogs on the internet about what I was doing. Wow, can’t get away with anything in this hi-tech world-ha. Rolled in to Altair at 6:16pm. Starting to get dark but now at least the wind will be at my side. 26 hours in. Legs 19-20 (Altair – Eagle Lake – miles 90.5 – 100.5) Not much happened during this stretch other than I kept thinking I was almost there and kept finding out I had hardly gone any further. I still averaged almost 12 min miles, even with breaks to grab food. But rolling in to Buckees at mile 100 at 8:30pm at night was a significant event. First 100 miles completed in 28.5 hours. Absolutely perfect. Hey, that is only 10 minutes over my time estimate for arrival here. I’ve caught up!! Sat down a little while and enjoyed the victory…. Half way. The furthest I had ever gone in an ultra. And now, I had to do it all again. But I was still confident and in good spirits. Only another 30 miles and I get to pick up my pacer, Rick. Dan heated some soup and I rested here about 45 minutes because I knew the next section was long and tough. No stores for miles.
Legs 21-23 ( Eagle Lake - Wallis – miles 100.5 – 116.5) It was probably 9:30pm when I left the outskirts of town into the dark void. It wasn’t long before my mental state began to deteriorate tremendously. At first I enjoyed seeing some unique animal life. Thousands of geese jumped up and were circling a field next to me. I could hear their honking and see their silhouettes against the night sky. But the joy of everything began to fade as my mental capacities began to fade as well. Flashes of light would come across my eyes. What appeared to be animals kept popping up on the side of the road, only to disappear when I would look directly at them. My head lamp came upon a beautifully shiny skunk just a few feet from me who promptly whipped his tail around in a quick exit as I jumped a few feet in the air in the opposite direction. Hey, that one didn’t disappear!!! I was stumbling blindly from side to side on the road. Dan had gone up ahead to wait. I would close my eyes and try to sleep while my legs kept moving while still listening for cars. At some point around 1am I told Dan I needed to stop to rest. I got my sleeping pad out and lay on the gravel for a few guilty minutes. Being paranoid about time clicking away, I was up in 10-15 minutes, and was back to stumbling down the road. My big lesson from this…. When you are in this state, you might as well stop and sleep for an hour because you will not make good time anyway. Had I slept more, I would have finished faster I believe. At some point in this section you cross the Colorado river. You never know what energy you have in reserves until you are put in danger. Dan was pretty far back and it was time for me to cross the bridge with absolutely no shoulder. No lights from cars so I head across the bridge at a fairly fast pace because there was no room to hide if a car came while I was on the bridge. I ran and ran. No end to this bridge. Then around the curve comes a car. I look behind me, another car. Oh NO!!! I was running back and forth on the highway like a squirrel. I had to sit on the edge of the bridge and lean out over the edge to keep the mirrors of a big truck from knocking me off. I had to do this several times before making it to the other side. It was very dangerous and very scary. I didn’t know it was going to happen and Dan didn’t know it was happening or he could have ran some interference for me. Wow, about 110 miles and I still had a sprint left in me. Nice! As we approached Wallis, I was completely out of it, but I had enough of my faculties remaining to formulate a plan. I had planned on arriving at Luke’s Locker at mile 141 at 2:30pm on Saturday and would sleep on the floor until 4:00pm. I decided to give up that sleep and take the sleep now because I was just insanely unproductive. You have to have a plan but always be ready to change it. I sent Dan up to Wallis to find a city park or somewhere for me to sleep. He found a city park but my pace had slowed to the point it took me forever to make it to him. I told him I wanted to eat eggs before I slept so my muscles could repair some while I slept. Basically 6 hours of stumbling around to cover 16 miles. What a waste. At 4am, ate my eggs, laid out my sleeping pad, set my watch alarm for 6am and died. My brother said a train came by a few minutes later, blew the whistle, and I didn’t flinch. I heard nothing. Legs 24-26 ( Wallis--Fulshear – miles 116.5-131.8) It was hard to start moving again but I slowly began to fix my feet and get ready to go again. Hard to believe I’m STILL in a race. Not used to sleeping during a race. Dan made me some more egg-beaters with some salty pre-cooked bacon mixed in. Very nice. Hit the road again but really way behind the schedule I had made for myself by several hours. But this was all uncharted territory and… you can only do what you can do, so I did what I did. I was stiff and running slow but I was running. That was good. Mind was clear after the 2 hours of sleep. Looking forward to seeing my pacers. Ate a whole avocado and that seemed to help give me energy. I needed some fat to regulate my glucose level. Rick Cook and Alison Lang Cravey were a welcomed sight at about mile 124. Rick brought with him fresh legs, enthusiasm, and it was contagious. I picked up the pace and started running faster. Alison was perky and her enthusiasm was contagious too. We passed through Simonton (126) talking about everything under the sun. Ultrarunners and pacers share a special bond and share the most intimate details of their lives in complete confidence because there is something very unique about the shared experience. We rolled in to Fulshear at 11:20am, marking a major accomplishment in my mind. It was where I actually joined civilization again. Dan and Alison were both driving ahead 2 miles to wait for us. My glycogen stores were low so when I needed food, I needed it quickly. I feel unbelievably well. I couldn’t believe I’m at a 5 mph pace after running 130+ miles. In my time estimates, I had assumed a significant slow-down but give the body what it needs and it can go and go. I just couldn’t believe it. My blisters completely gave up hurting. Feet were fine.
Legs 27-28 ( Fulshear –Luke's Locker– miles 131.8-141) We made good progress through Cinco ranch and in spite of the heat of the day, stayed hydrated enough to keep moving well. Rolled in to Luke's Locker at 2:35pm. Amazingly, only 5 minutes off of my pre-race guess at an arrival time. After 46 hours of running, off by 5 minutes. Not too bad. Amazing how the world orchestrates itself to give you what you want sometimes if you are specific enough in stating what you want. Luke’s girls were awesome. Let me cool off, eat, drink, and escape from the sun for a while. We take a picture to be put on the “wall of fame” and hit the “trail” with Alison as my pacer.
Rick, me, Alison, and Dan Legs 27-32 ( Luke's Locker-Beltway 8– miles 141-163) Pacers make all the difference in the world. Not sure if all the other runners ran on the terribly winding sidewalks like I did but I didn’t know the rules and didn’t want to miss a single foot of the race route. Didn’t want to have to come back and do this again-ha. We are on the way to meet Nancy Husby right before the George Bush trail. I had met Nancy while volunteering at the Rocky Raccoon 100 miler in February and she was enthusiastically ready to help me in any way that she could. Once we were on the trail, we met up with her friend Kevin Schnyder. I was moving faster than I probably should have but being with fast runners is contagious so I made good time through this section. But as dark approached, my sugar level started to drop and I became a bit dull again. I couldn’t tell you much about the 8 miles through the park other than I ran it by following them, but I wasn’t all there mentally. During this whole section didn’t have access to my supplies so by the time we reached some parking lot, I was depleted to say the least. Grabbed some tuna in a pouch, put it on some crackers, and that sustained me until I reached highway 6 at mile 156. It was dark and started to rain as I approached highway 6 and since I was depleted and exhausted, decided it was time to take a rest and get some food. I think it was about 7:30pm. Times and distances sometime got confusing. I did not want to get my feet wet and start blister problems again so got my sleeping bag and laid down on the small porch of some building and covered myself with a foil windshield shield to keep some of the rain off. Ate some soup and tried to rest for about 15 minutes while it rained harder. Saw the first runner of the entire race come by. One of the ultra teams. They didn’t even see me. As I got up, a small ground rattler snake went squirming away from my sleeping bag. I guess he came up out of the flower bed to stay dry and snuggle with me. OK….. time to get going…..I’m not sleepy any more-lol. Starting mile 157, Nancy, Kevin and I are running along the Hershey trail. About mile 158, it felt like someone popped me in the back of the left calf. I sort of yelped out in pain. I tried to stretch it out but it felt knotted and stiff. My mental state also started to fade at this point too. I remember exhaustion, pain in my leg, dropping to the sidewalk periodically to pass out for a moment in exhaustion. Ground felt sooo good. I would pop up a minute later and take off again. Ate oatmeal and it was good. Really out of it though. At mile 160, we passed by a small bar on Wilcrest with employees outside waiting for their boss to run by. The bar manager was a young girl who made some colorful comments about how good I looked, particularly my legs-lol. Had to give up my pacers here and go the next 43 miles without them. But it was life-saving what they had done for me. Dan had to take Nancy and Kevin back to their car, I didn’t feel confident going running on alone and I couldn’t ride in a vehicle, so I sat on the sidewalk on Wilcrest and rested as best I could and waited for him to return. Slept here close to an hour (my 4th hour of sleep in 3 days) and felt my body start to draw and spasm so I knew I needed to get going again. The damaged calf muscle put pressure on the Achilles and progressively caused it to become more painful as the race progressed. Still, after the rest, I was about 163 miles into the race and still able to maintain close to a 5 mph pace. Again, my body was still surprising me. I started to eat raw Raman noodles (just eating the hard cake of noodles). It tasted good, was easy to eat, and it was easy to get in a lot of calories quickly. Miles 163-170 I was still able to maintain 12 min miles. Ate an Avocado. Just listening to my body and giving it what it needed. Alternated back and forth between oatmeal and Raman blocks. I think it was around 3am or 4am when we joined the race route the Houston Marathon takes near the 610 loop. As I passed by mile 173, I showed my brother the window where I sat back in 1997 on a Sunday morning where I was at work doing an unfulfilling job, overweight, and was looking out the window at the people running the Houston Marathon. I thought to myself, “Someday…. I’d like to run a marathon.” Little did I know, 12 years later, at age 44, I’d be a single parent raising two teenage daughters alone, COO of my own software company, and I’d be running 8 back-to-back marathons in less than 3 days. Be careful what you wish for… you just might get it all. It took years to materialize, but the seed of inspiration had been planted, unbeknown to those who were running by that day. Making it past the 610 loop in to Memorial Park, I still had 30 miles to go. I felt like my Achilles was tearing away from my heel. I was barely hobbling along. I figured out that if I turned my leg to the side, it put less pressure on the heel. As I approached the bayou that leads to downtown, I couldn’t bend my ankle. I tied an elastic band around it to keep the pressure off the Achilles and prevent a tear. I never thought of quitting but became worried at just how painful and long it would take to finish. I feared the only thing that could make me stop was an entirely ruptured Achilles so I was a bit worried. I don’t know about you, but running along the bayou, under the underpasses, and through the dark, empty fields and woods near downtown Houston at 4am in the morning, alone and crippled, is not my idea of a safe thing to do. I picked up a rock just to make myself feel better because I knew I couldn’t outrun anyone. My hobbling was at an increased pace to say the least. I was separated from Dan because vehicles had to take a different route and I took a wrong turn in to downtown. Made it several blocks before realizing it and had to turn around and return back to the last arrow I had seen. Did this several times. I was in and out of downtown then back to the bayou several times. Instructions were in the car so it was my fault entirely. Finally found the right route after returning to the same arrow three times and met Dan in Downtown at mile 178. 25 miles to go. It was so painful just to hobble. Tried stretching. Tried everything. This was going to be a long, painful marathon. But it is early (6:30am). I had plenty of time. Hopped along the uneven sidewalks down Polk st. It was a long , slow road. Narrowed my focus to surviving the moment. No stopping. No quitting. Not an option. I don’t want to come back next year, as a participant anyway, so I’ve got to finish. I will finish. My friends from all over communicate with me via email and Facebook on my Blackberry, sending well-wishes and encouragement. Feeling connected helped. Some were running trails in different parts of the state yet we were all connected. Almost like in a real race with other real people. The other competitors in this race are still behind me. I had asked my brother to go up ahead and cook some more eggs. I catch up to him near mile 185 at 9:00am and plop down on some asphalt. Hard asphalt never felt so good. Back on my feet and start to see other runners as they pass. Ankles are swollen, can’t bend one of them, yet I hobble on. By mile 188, as it gets hot, my energy is drained. Legs on fire. Can barely walk. My vision is slightly altered and everything I see becomes very vividly clear. Poor brother is so sleepy. He’s been up the whole time with me since mile 79. I grab two bananas and some other fruit and sat on the sidewalk. Here I am again, caught in one of those moments all of us eventually face when it seems we are in an impossible situation. Impossible to get ourselves out of it, yet giving up is just not an option. You may ask WHY someone would voluntarily do something like run 203 miles or any other race that requires you facing what you consider to be your ultimate limits. This might be a 10k for some people, or a 100 miler for others. Doesn’t matter. It is very personal. We all eventually find ourselves there, I just happened to choose it this time. But let me tell you that when you are faced with moments like this, facing what seems like an impossible situation, and somehow you are able to reach deep and pull out the strength to survive, it changes you forever. This could happen while running or at other times such as when you face the news of a divorce or losing a precious relationship. Basically any critical limit situation you find yourself in. When you feel like falling down and giving up but you have people or children depending on you so quitting is just not an option. When you let the tears roll from your eyes, let the fear, determination, and anger at the situation finally build to the point where it is channeled out of you in an act of sheer determination when you decide you WILL survive and you WILL persevere. Let me tell you, you will NEVER be the same person again. We are all so much stronger than we know. All of the rest of life’s problems seem so small and insignificant once you have an epiphany like this. I had been here before in other races. Maybe not this bad but similar situations. And I have quit races before. Most of the time out of physical necessity, but sometimes because of mental barriers. And it was those haunting times of “failure” that now provided the motivation and strength to pull out of this situation now. Those very failures were what I needed to give me more inner fortitude and resolution to deal with this challenge now. So were they truly “failures” or EXACTLY what I needed to experience at the time? I had about 14 miles to go and yet it hurt to go a few steps. But I jumped up in almost a rage and took off towards the finish line. I’m ready to get this thing DONE!!! I thought about my kids seeing me finish. I thought about the people who had been there to support me throughout the race. I thought about running, singing, and laughing with my daughter. I thought about the email from my youngest daughter telling me how seeing me be so determined to achieve my goals lets her know she can achieve anything she sets her mind to. She said what a good job I did as a single dad of two teenage daughters. Teenagers from my kid’s school were emailing me saying that they were runners too and wanted to know how I was doing. Thought about all my friends who cared enough to send me encouragement and track my progress. I didn’t really slow down the whole rest of the race. Steady progress. I ran through the heat. I ate fruit. I didn’t even know anyone knew I was doing the race solo and people ran by and everyone seem to know me and what I was doing. I had no idea Jay had posted a bio and story about my solo attempt on the web site. The heat was intense. I got separated from my crew and ran out of water. I saw an old woman on her front porch and asked to borrow her water hose. Told her I was out for a little jog. She said she used to jog. I poured the cool water over my head, had a little chat with someone who seemed so thrilled to have anyone take a moment to talk to her, said my goodbyes and headed down the road. Other crews gave me encouragement, water, or whatever else I needed. I hobbled faster and faster. Coming to what I thought was my last couple of miles, I found out I had an entire leg left to run which meant another 8 miles. Jokingly said I thought I was already on my “last leg”. Still got jokes . Oh well, it takes a lot more to get me discouraged than it used to. So on and on I go. I knew I would make it. Waves of joy swept my body and gave me new life. I still had to focus my attention on the moment because my mind couldn’t fathom anything further. I just couldn’t face anything else. Even when I saw the monument, I couldn’t even allow myself to think about the 1 ½ miles left to go. Just had to keep staring at the few steps in front of me. Family following along in the car. My dad and sister had surprised me by showing up. My sister Wanda is a professional photographer and showed up to take some fantastic photos to capture the moment. Meant so much. My daughter Kelly was waiting at the finish line.
It’s HOT!! As I split off from the car and headed down the long, straight path to the monument, I enjoyed every step of the way. I had made it. I looked at the tall monument and what it represents to Texas. I knew I would probably never be here again in this capacity and I absorbed and reveled in every moment. Some sort of Rocky music was playing at the finish line and everyone was clapping. As I approached the finish line, the thought of finally being there after almost 69 hours overwhelmed me and tears of joy and relief came out of my eyes. This was a moment that would live with me forever. The look on everyone’s face was of such amazement. People just kept staring at what kind of person would be crazy enough to run 203 miles. But what I also thought I saw was mental barriers being broken in everyone who was there. I know I am projecting but when someone sees what they thought was an impossible thing being done, I couldn’t help but wonder if they thought of things in their life that they once thought was impossible but now… maybe… just maybe... I hope so because twelve years earlier, some other runners never knew they had planted a seed of inspiration in someone else who was just staring out a window as they ran by. We never know what impact living our life has on others. And what impact their changed lives will have on others.
What a beautiful celebration, having my family and the rest of the running community there with me either virtually or in person. Amazingly, had it not been for my ankle problem, I could have easily been at work the next day but took the wise route and slept a great deal for the whole next day. It is now 2 weeks later and I’m still working to heal my calf muscle but the rest of my body is fine. Our bodies truly are amazing if we give them what they need to function. What an amazing life this can be if you aren’t afraid to reach out of your comfort zone and try something out of the ordinary for yourself. To allow your self to experience adversity and embrace the richness of the experience as it happens. But I think the biggest lesson anyone can learn is to give up on feeling bad about “failures” or “bad” things that have happened in their lives because it may be those very things that give you the strength to succeed next time. My whole ultrarunning career is lined with “failure” after “failure”. Training plans gone wrong, under-trained, over-trained, injuries, poor stretching, failed nutrition plans, poor pacing, failed hydration and electrolyte plans, equipment failures, clothing mistakes, etc. etc. The list goes on and on. And it was precisely ALL of those “failures” that helped me have the knowledge finish this race. “Even failure is a success if we learn from it”. Always do your best but don’t waste a moment feeling bad about a mistake. They just mean you are still out there trying. A big “THANK YOU” again to everyone who participated in this fabulous weekend and for everyone who took the time to share this life experience with me. Allen Wrinkle
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