Partial bonk yes... no doubt I slowed down after 50km, but not as bad as it looks. I don't think you can compare to a "regular" 26.2 mile marathon where its balls-to-the-wall the entire way. Nearly everyone starts power walking the uphills after a certain point (after 50-60km, the hamstrings start fatiguing). If you want to read the gory details... read on...
Blackfoot Ultra (100km) Race ReportWow. What an experience! I feel as though I survived a battle. And in a way, I suppose I did. 100km (62 miles) is a very long way to run!
members.shaw.ca/tbuehl/Blackfoot%20Ultra%20start.jpg I had three goals going into the race. The most ambitious was to finish in the top 5. If that didn’t happen, my second goal was to finish in less than 10 ½ hours (my fantasy time being 10 hours even). Finally, if all else failed, I just wanted to finish the race. Having only ever raced two 50km ultras previously, even that was by far a sure thing. As it turned out, I was very fortunate. I finished in 3rd place with a time of 10 hours, 3 minutes.
But the real story was in the journey, not the finishing time.
Besides the very long distance, there were some additional challenges. First, the course consisted of four 25km loops through the forest. The trail meanders along rolling hills, which only seemed to get steeper and longer on each pass. In addition, it had rained for a solid week leading up to the race, so the course was very wet with several long stretches of gooey mud. On the plus side, the race was extremely well organized with numerous well-stocked aid stations and wonderful volunteers.
The Blackfoot Ultra 100km race began a few minutes after sunrise at 5:00 am. With a simple “go”, the race was on and 42 runners set out full of hope. Other competitors would set out on similar journeys later on in the morning in separate 25km, 50km and 50 mile races.
The start of the race was unique in that for a few short moments we were all running together – a single band of warriors facing the unknown. However, it didn’t take long before the field had strung out, as each person settled into their own pace. Unlike road races, where you are mostly in contact with other runners, a long trail race is quite different. With all of the trees and twists and turns in the trail, much of the race is run seemingly alone. You generally don’t see anyone at all unless you are overtaking them, or they are overtaking you… and only then for a short time before you loose sight of one another.
members.shaw.ca/tbuehl/Blackfoot%20Ultra%20running.jpgIn the first loop, I settled comfortably into second place. I stayed with the leader through 10km but he was simply moving too fast. Besides, I was running well ahead of my planned 10km per hour pace. I realized that by giving chase I was jeopardizing my race. I slowed down a bit, and within a few turns I was running alone.
Near the end of the first loop, there was a short section of trail which doubled back on itself. It was here that the leader ran by me in the opposite direction about a half km from the turn around. Surprisingly, I was only about 6 minutes behind. This gave me confidence heading into the second loop.
The second 25km was a little slower than the first, but I still felt strong. Once again, I ran mostly alone. Other competitors in the race were strung out somewhere behind.
It was at the 50km turn around that I had my fist hint of trouble. As I approached the timing table, I slowed down to hear the Race Director tell me I was in first place. The leader had dropped out. In the split second that it took me to comprehend this good news, my right hamstring completely seized up. Hero to zero just like that.
Fortunately, the spasm relaxed with stretching but I took off with a sense of dread. My muscles were seriously fatiguing and I still had 50km to race.
The end seemed to come at the 55km mark. As I entered the Aid Station, I felt awful. My legs were cramping and I felt dizzy and disorientated. My vision was going all blurry and worse of all felt demoralized. How could I feel this bad, yet still run another 45km?
For the first time in the day, I stopped running, sat down and contemplated quitting. I also used the time to chow down at the Aid Station food table – and this most likely saved me from a DNF. Up until that time I had run through the Aid Stations, gulping down at most a couple of ounces of water. After finishing a small meal, I got back up and headed out. I wasn’t quite done yet. I gradually felt a little better after the nourishment, but my legs felt on the verge of cramping. From that point on I began walking the uphills.
I seemed to have weathered the storm, but that third loop was the most difficult stretch of running I have ever done. At about 65km, the runner behind caught and passed me. We exchanged a few words and he was gone. As I watched him pull away, I could only laugh. Imagine, I had started to believe I could actually win this thing! Now, I would be happy just to finish!
I began the fourth and final 25km loop with more confidence and resolve than I had on the third. I knew I would finish and as I was still in second place, I would finish well. I reasoned that by this point everyone else was also walking the uphills. I had only to run the flats and downhills.
There were also now plenty of 25km and 50mile runners on the course to break up the monotony of running alone. I took my mind off the discomfort by working to pass anyone I saw up ahead.
Finally, 10 hours 3 minutes and 100km after I had started, I crossed the finish line in 3rd place (someone else somewhere along the line had passed me for second). But I couldn’t have been happier… exhausted, but happy. It was definitely a struggle, but I had persevered and completed my first 100km race.
