发信人: whxhm1 (whxhm), 信区: Running
标 题: My first ultra (NOT a race report)
发信站: BBS 未名空间站 (Thu Jul 9 08:13:39 2009, 美东)
I was only planning on 5K’s in my calendar. I guess I have accidentally added a “0″. The story started with a delayed flight.
Yesterday morning I went for a 1 mile jog in my vibram five fingers, and thought that was my run for the day. Afterall, it was probably hard enough on my calfs. I packed my luggage
with my wife and daughter and headed to the airport, ready to get back home. But our flight was delayed by one hour. Out of boredom I went to a bookstore in the airport and started browsing the sports
section. Then I saw Dean Karnazes’ “Ultramarathon Man: Confession of an All Night Runner”. I thought I already knew a lot about Dean Karnazes, but in the book he tells his story in a beautiful and
spectacular fashion. I read it on my flight. I will not tell you about all the details but what I can say is this. Those (including me) who thought that ultramarathon running is too long, too slow, and too boring, will probably change their minds after reading Dean’s book. So inspired like never before, I decided to go for a 30 something miler just like Dean did off the couch (actually, off a bar) on his 30th birthday.
But I’m far from my best shape at the moment. In fact I don’t even feel like 60%. I had a cold for several days, and was just recovering from it. I had knee and shin injuries in my right leg, and was out of real training for weeks. The most frustrating thing is that I didn’t get my injuries from a race or from training for a race, but rather from impatiently trying to recover from a race. So I was injured for no good reason, and that depressed me greatly. And because I wasn’t running much, I cut back on my carb intake. That’s not good for running long either.
What the hell, I thought. If Dean can do it after not running for 15 years, I can do it. My wife fully supported my crazy idea. So I got home, cooked myself half a pack of pasta (which was my dinner), and got ready for the run. I put together a water bottle with gatorade, cell phone, cash, toilet paper, a wrist band with my name, emergence contact and allergies on it (in case I pass out on the side of the road), and tore off a page of my New England road map book. It only marks highways and major state roads. My plan was to follow the main roads.
I didn’t know what to expect, how far I could go. The realistic goal was to run the farthest I have ever run, so anything longer than a marathon will do. It could be 26.3 miles or 50 miles. So I kissed my wife and kid goodbye, “I’m heading toward New Hampshire. Wish me luck!” I wasn’t actually thinking that I was gonna make it to NH, but I was planning on going north.
So off I go. It was 11 at night. I set an extremely relaxed jogging pace, about 9:30/mile. It will turn out that I end up doing the entire run in 9:30-10:10 pace, so this was a good start. My goal wasn’t any particular distance. I was simply trying to run for as long as I could. This pace was painfully slow but with great expectations I didn’t care. My knee pain was still there — it was getting a lot better last week but I accidentally re-aggravated it for non-running related reasons. But it doesn’ t bother me as long as I go slowly enough.
One hour later I made only a little more than 6 miles. But I had already passed the town of Somerville, Arlington, and was in Winchester. I was excited and called my wife, telling her that I’m doing good, and then she went to sleep.
Then I passed Woburn, Burlington (I didn’t even know there is a Burlington in MA), and went in Billerica (which I have never heard of). Billerica is a lonely little town with a large area. I suddenly felt lonely, like never before. I was alone on the empty road, in the middle of night. All I could think about was my wife and kid. This is something I have never experienced before. In fact, it was the most uncomfortable feeling in my run. I wasn’t bothered by fatigue, as I was going so slowly. And I wasn’t bored, since I’m running into new towns I have never been in before. But the loneliness, that is just
strangely painful.
What cheered me up a bit was a girl driving by, waving her hand at me. My knee pain wasn’t getting any worse which was good. I was a little tired at mile 12, but went on to mile 22, 23 without trouble. Next I passed Chelmsford and arrived at Lowell. Not bad I thought. I covered a bit more than 24 miles at that point. Of course, I was going painfully slowly. But I was in no hurry, taking my time. I paid two visits to convenient stores to refill my gatorade, and took one bathroom break. And I had to stop several times to look at the map. I made a couple wrong turns but the mistakes were quickly
corrected.
Now New Hampshire is actually within reach. I continued north. Lowell is a rather shitty town. You can see five chimneys from the bridge over the river — not a pretty sight. The town to its north, Dracut, is even shittier. There is really nothing there, and the houses are crappy. As I kept running north along route 38, it just kept getting worse. Finally I saw some kind of concrete factory by the road. But then, there is the sign: “Entering Pelham, NH”. YES! I couldn’t believe that I actually made it to New Hampshire. I cover a little more than 28 miles at this point. I was getting pretty tired at mile 26, but it wasn’t stressful at all. It was still a conversational pace for me. I thought of venturing into NH, but the major cities are a bit far away, and I was on my own. Nobody is going to pick me up. I have to figure out a way of getting back.
So I turned around and headed back to Lowell. It took me some time to find the train station. When I arrived at the train station, my GPS says I covered 33.58 miles, and it took 5 hours and 45 minutes. Pretty slow, but an ultra is an ultra. I was happy that I passed the 50K mark, and reached NH, so my goals are achieved, and I decided that it was time to rest. In fact, after mile 32, I was practically crippling by the normal standard. But I thought I was doing all right by the ultramarathon standard. I’m not anywhere near experiencing blurred vision, hallucination, or any kind of exhaustion. I felt that I could go on for another 10K at least, but I didn’t have the motivation to do so. Perhaps, next time I will take on a big challenge, to reach Maine or something like that.:)
Luckily I was able to enjoy a mocha and a toasted onion bagel from Dunkin Donuts. They tasted fantastic. And I caught the first train in the morning, from Lowell back to Boston. My wife and kid were still asleep when I got home. What a run!
So here’s my first 50K, or 53K to be more precisely (subtracting the typical 1% overestimate of distance by Garmin 305). Now I’m looking forward to running a 50 miler next year. As I learned from Dean’s book, one needs to finish a 50-miler ultra in less than 9 hours to qualify for the western states 100-miler, the most awesome foot race on earth. There is a funny graph in the book comparing the
elevation chart of western states 100 to boston marathon, making boston marathon look like child’s play.
When I got home I discovered two blisters on my toes. They aren’t bad. My right knee hurts a bit, but not as bad as I would have thought. My left shin feels painful. In a ultramarathon, running downhill is definitely A LOT tougher than running uphill. Running uphill is no big deal if you don’t care about speed. But the downhill really kills. Now I can finally take a few weeks completely off running feeling satisfied rather than frustrated, and wait for my injuries to heal completely.
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