11/6/21
White Lake Ultra
25 miles in 6 hours of trail running around a small lake.
This was a hell of an experience. Coming into this, the longest I’ve ever ran was about 10 miles. I’ve hiked 14 in a day, and the longest I’ve ever recorded just walking was 18 while sight seeing in Europe. I’m pretty sure this is the farthest I’ve travelled on foot in a day.
As far as trails go, this was a very pleasant one to run on. Not much in the way of elevation change, and it wasn’t heavily rooted or rocky. There were some, and plenty of leaves covering the track, but for the most part it was tame.
A little less than halfway through the race I completed a half marathon distance. During this lap, both of my quads started to cramp up pretty good. I was eating and taking in fluids between each lap, but I think since the temperature was in the high 30s and low 40s throughout the day I didn’t take in enough drink. I tried to just copy what my friends were doing for the most part since they’ve all been down this road before.
The next lap I started playing games to keep myself running. The body was hurting, but my cardio was holding up well enough. Some folks were shooting off in the distance, so I started pretending I was in an action movie and do my best “hero won’t die” impression.
On the lap that gained me my 19th mile, I started breaking down. My quads were going back and forth between full on cramps and searing hot burning, the latter of which was preferable. Despite that discomfort, it wasn’t overly limiting. My hips on the other hand were quitting on me. I started losing the ability to lift my feet high enough to maintain a decent running form. This meant more roots being kicked, which was brutal on my mangled toes and took everything out of me to stay up when I caught myself. This was the first lap I started having to walk between bouts of running, and also when the conversations with myself started.
I got pretty mad at myself for not being able to run any more, and the first thing my mind went to was “you little b****, why are you so soft?”. I went back and forth for about a mile, having those thoughts and forcing myself to start running again, only for one of my feet to drag behind me and halt progress. At this point, I remembered a bit of advice from my friend I was running with that basically amounted to “take care of yourself out there”. So I made a deal, I’d walk through the sunny parts of the trail and run where it was shaded. This brought a moment of clarity. Of course I’m fucking struggling, I’m about to double the amount of miles I’ve ever ran. I haven’t quit yet. Every step forward is just adding on to the win. This might be miserable, but you haven’t given up, you’re still moving forward, even if it’s just a bit slower now.
By the end of that lap, I had a noticeable limp as my hip flexors were taking turns just completely shutting off. I made it back to our table, smashed some food and fluids, put on a hoodie, and just set out on foot again. I figure if I can’t run anymore I can still rack up some miles, and this is a beautiful walk through the woods that I haven’t really gotten to enjoy. I felt like I was almost kind of drunk meandering through the woods, still trying to walk as fast as I could hoping to get two laps in.
I rounded the corner to the aid station where we checked in after each lap, and they informed me I had 40 minutes left. It took a lot longer to walk the lap than I thought, and I immediately thought “fuck, I have to run another one”. I waddled over to our table, slammed a few sips of a drink, and just took off. This last lap was the type of shit you read stories about. I won’t try to romanticize it. It was ugly, sweaty, I sounded like I was in agony during my breathing, but I knew I had to haul ass for as long as I could because any mishap would take so much to recover from. I tripped on two roots, and not hitting the deck was a feat in itself.
By the end of the lap I was basically doing a controlled fall out of the woods, and I hit the short section of pavement that led to the aid station and just let it all out. I rounded the corner where a few people were catching times and through heaving breaths asked if I made the lap. They said yes, and with time to spare. It was a pretty unreal feeling. I didn’t reach “ultra mileage” but I never thought I’d even do something like this in my life.
I’m sore in a way I’ve never experienced today. My legs are completely shot. Hips and quads are thrashed, ankles and lower legs are wrecked. I’m going to lose several toe nails and I have some sweet blisters. Somehow my knees feel completely fine aside from some extra clicking in one of them. My mid and upper back are pretty jacked up too. Any time I shut my eyes I’ve fallen asleep today, only to wake up and focus on hydration and stuffing my face. I didn’t have much of an appetite last night and forced what I could into my stomach before I passed out.
Ultimately, I wound up finishing in the middle of the pack of this race. To have been a non-runner as recently as 3 months ago, I think that’s pretty decent. I’m proud of my effort and it’s definitely an accomplishment. Unfortunately, I think it’s also something I can build on haha.
Some extra notes because I’m just rambling at this point.
This was supposed to be a 24 hour relay race, but got switched to individual races when we couldn’t field a full team. Made things easier and harder in some ways. Less time spent at the race and didn’t need to try to manage staying warm during rest periods. But also meant running straight out the entire time.
My teammate also ran a six hour, and we wound up with the same mileage. I was pumped to have matched him, because he’s a much more experienced runner. He battled his own demons this day, and we actually had a very similar last two lap story and finished that lap relatively close to each other. He was pumped for me on my performance.
I had another friend there that did the 24 hour solo race. He won, with 105 miles completed. An unreal effort and truly mind boggling.
I think I’ve typed enough now.