Running through the night...

I had a great time this weekend. Olga came to visit Austin, for the first time, and she got to experience a little bit of what Summer in central Texas is all about—Hot! There was time spent at Barton Springs Pool, which was quite a shock to her, considering the 68 degree water. Of course, it seems very cold to me, too! Especially when the outside temperatures are around 100 degrees. We, also, got to visit the people I work with on Friday evening at a happy hour for my boss who is going to work for a competitor. Afterwards, we had dinner at a great restaurant, nearby. While visiting, she was surprised by how hilly and green Austin really is and it basically changed her perspective. No, it’s not Oregon, but we do our best with the terrain that is here. J We hit the trail the next morning, which borders my apartment complex. It was casual and fun. We didn’t run, but, instead just hiked. We did some running around town in the early afternoon before getting ready to drive to the night race. I was anxious about the run, mainly, because I’ve been nursing what has been diagnosed as a calf strain/sprain to the Tibialis Posterior. The Flexor Digitorum is also affected, but to a much lesser extent. The result is I have not been doing much “hammering” on the trails for a few months since Jemez or doing many, if any, long runs. This run would be a test to see how my leg would hold up under extended time on my feet in preparations for Headlands. I didn’t begin preparing for the night race until about an hour before we left my apartment. I’ve gotten to the point in preparing my race bag, although I consider myself fairly inexperienced, to keep things simple. There are no magical formulas I am aware of and while what I do for nutrition may not be perfect, it seems to work for me.

It was great getting to the race, talking to friends, and making final preparations before the start. I was happy to see the start/finish under a canopy of Live Oak trees. It was warm for the 7pm start—probably mid-90’s. Nothing surprising for July. I gathered in the middle of the pack for the start. This run was all about testing out my leg and staying on the trail, hopefully, for 12 hours. I eased into a mellow pace and happily let people go. The first loop, which was a seven miles, went by quickly, but I realized how much I didn’t care for the trail. It didn’t have any views to speak of and I felt like I was in the closed-in never ending woods. I ran the first two loops, mostly, in the daylight. I didn’t begin using my headlamp until the last ten minutes of my second loop. During each loop it was great to see that Olga had walked up the short out-and-back road that was at the beginning of the loop to meet me. I felt really good, except for some lower abdominal issues that began during my third loop. But, I kept with it and did my best. After each loop, Olga would have to kick me out of the aid station, literally grabbing my arm to get me to go. She’s all business, which was a good thing. After my fifth loop, she paced me. She was unrelenting at setting the pace to keep me moving. It was a good ass kicking, but much appreciated. My spirits were high and I felt great mentally and physically. Even my calf was a distant memory. Olga had me run my seventh loop alone and I did my best to keep up the pace she had set. She had given me a spare headlamp, since my batteries began dying during the previous loop. What I didn’t realize until my very last loop of the race was, during a pee break when I turned off the light, I inadvertently turned the light back on in the lowest setting. This made for a difficult time seeing the trail. In fact, the moon was cancelling out my headlamp beam in the open wooded sections. I, also, began feeling hot spots on my feet. Before the race, while putting on my Injinji’s, I realized I had two right footed socks. Doh! That won’t work! I had to use the medium weight Smartwools I was planning on putting on after the race. I run in thin socks to prevent blisters and I knew that I would, most likely, get them wearing the thicker socks, but I had no choice. When I finished my seventh loop, Olga was nowhere to be found. I had come in early, according to her predictions. Someone at the aid station even mentioned I was three minutes early. Right on cue, she showed up and she ran the last loop with me. I had covered forty-nine miles and while my feet hurt like hell, the rest of my body felt fine. She commented that we could just walk the next loop. We did that for awhile, but it actually felt better to run so I didn’t heel strike on the deep blisters under heel calluses. Once in awhile, I would make noises when I’d step on a rock the wrong way and Olga would turn around to see if I was ok. While it was frustrating to deal with blisters, I put it into the category of experience gained for a later race—bring extra socks next time and become accustomed to what it feels like to keep moving on blistered feet. Oh, and maybe wear gaiters! About halfway through this loop is when I realized I had the headlamp on a low setting. After I changed the setting, I could see the trail, again! I’ll just call it more experience gained. ;-) We got to see the sky light up in magnificent colors before dawn just as I was finishing my last miles. It was awesome! The night had passed by quickly. We finished up the loop and I told the RD that I was done. Fifty-six miles was enough for me before Headlands.