Training in the Shadow of a DNF… During a Pandemic

Part 3

Ronald Boos is a member of Team Ordinary and the United States Marine Corps. A whiz at trivia, he can be found frequently on our Early Morning Zwift Training Rides. This is Final Part of a 3-part series. If you missed the first two, you can see Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

3 strikes, you’re out:

18 miles down, 32 to go.  I find myself leaving the drop bag area refreshed, restocked and still invigorated.  I pass by the Start/Finish line heading towards the southern portion of the modified out-and-back lollypop course, immediately dropping into a single-track trail through the woods.  Small shoutout to the event organizers, every trail that I found myself on during the race had been cleared of leaves and debris in the weeks before the race.  A small gesture, that took them a lot of time and effort, and was greatly appreciated. 

The next 5 miles were downhill on technical switchback trails, with a couple of decent climbs to keep us honest.  As I ran along, I had the honor of getting to know the competitors around me.  I passed some, some passed me, some played accordion along the way, but we were all in the experience together and more than a few conversations passed the time and miles nicely. 

As I fell back into a rhythm, I picked up a running mate that had never even completed a marathon but signed up for the full 50 miles.  And some people call me crazy!

I allowed myself the time to appreciate the environment, the views, and the oddities such as the Chattanooga skyline from the ridgeline or the waterfall right beside the trail somewhere around mile 22.  Technically, this is strike 3 I think, but I wouldn’t have changed enjoying the experience, no matter what the cost.

At the marathon mark there was an aid station containing some very welcome pickles, potato and bacon soup, smores, peanut butter pretzels, and some tailwind for my bottles.  If you’ve never had the pleasure of coming across an Ultra aid station, it’s a sight to behold.  Everything you would never expect a runner to even eat on a cheat day is available in bulk during an actual event.  This is where my race day partner and I split up. I didn’t want to spend more time than necessary to load up and go, and I knew that he had his own race to run.  The next aid station was just over 6 miles away, through more narrow technical terrain, with a fresh pair of shoes and socks waiting for me in my drop bag.  

The wheels began to fall off somewhere around mile 30.  My feet were starting to feel like I was stepping on glass with every step, as I found myself coming out of a clearing and onto the shoulder of a sweet stretch of paved, downhill, road.  Ecstatic, I began to slowly run through the pain down the hill but had to slow to a walk more times than I liked.  I turned at the base of the hill at the access of a trailhead and back onto trails for another mile to the aid station.  I limped my way into the corral, saw my brother waiting for me, got a much needed hug, asked him to get me a couple of quesadillas from the food point (seriously, Ultra aid stations alone are worth the pain). The I went to work on fixing my feet with some KT tape and fresh footwear.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that the dry, padded, shoes made me feel like I was walking on clouds compared to my trail shoes.  Maybe if I had decided to change shoes at mile 18 it would have saved my race. (Strike 2.5?)  I downed some food, took some for the trail, refilled my water and nutrition and continued. 

I spent 8 minutes in transition and had a 4-mile loop I had to get through to make the cutoff of 9 hours and 30 minutes back at the same aid station at mile 37.  I had an hour, and I was determined that the pain wouldn’t stop me. 

I began the slowest 4 miles of my life.  The busted knee coming back to haunt me, and feet were just absolutely done.  At this point, even the fresh shoes couldn’t keep the pain at bay for more than a few hundred feet of running at a time.  My mind wandered to all the downhill portions of the course that I had covered during the last 20 miles and the realization that I would have to now go up those hills on an injured carriage to the finish line. 

When my watch told me that the cutoff time had passed with just over half a mile to go, I felt defeated and limped my way the rest of the distance.  I came out of the woods 1/10 of a mile from the transition point to cheers and encouragement, telling me to run.  Confused, I ran through the pain up to the barn, and crossed the line at 9 hours 50 minutes and 17 seconds.  I didn’t know it but at some point during the day the cut off times got extended by 20 minutes, I missed the new cut off by 17 seconds.  If I hadn’t felt defeated during the last half mile, I would have made it.  (Strike 4, one for good measure)

I was welcomed to the line, turned down a sly offer to continue even though I missed the time.  Knowing that there was no way I would make the next cutoff if I foolishly tried, I simply asked for one of the cold beers sitting there in a cooler at the line.

My limit, that day, was 37.12 miles in 9:50:17 and 7,037 ft of elevation gain.  Could I have physically continued?  Yes, but I would not have made the limit and kept volunteers on the course longer than necessary, possibly even sparked a search for me when I wasn’t on time.  I accepted that limit, vowed to learn from my mistakes, and come back for revenge on the mountain that claimed my spirit.  I’m proud of myself for knowing when enough was enough but know that there’s more in me.

37 miles in, a half marathon away.

Where do we go from here?  Finding my way forward.

Lessons learned:

-Don’t start out too fast, you’ll pay for it later.

-Train for terrain, hills with pavement and developed trails are fine but if you’re going to be running a technical trail, train on technical trails.

-Pay attention when running and pick up your feet, so you don’t bust your knee.

-Pace yourself based off a plan, not those around you.

-Change shoes way earlier than you think you need to.

-Don’t give up until you’re told it’s over.

-Do an Ultra, the food stations are worth it.

Maybe don’t try to run 50 miles less than 2 months after a 50k race? (I’ll probably ignore this one though, to be honest).

Looking forward, as I said before, I’m taking the base that I gained from my year of running and leveraging it towards expanding my endeavors.  Endurance doesn’t care how you’re using at as long as you are doing something.  I’ve shifted gears (pun intended) to focusing on cycling this year as a new format, and plan to branch into triathlon as a discipline.  My lovely wife is starting to get into endurance sports also.  I’ve found that trying to be an example and encourage without being pushy is a great way to get supplemental discipline with needed motivation. 

Morning training rides with Coach Scott and other Team Ordinary members have been an incredibly helpful way to balance training with my home and work life.  5 am really comes early but sweating with friends is an awesome way to start the day.  Great things are in my future, keeping it fresh and adding new goals to strive for will be key in maintaining my desire.  Revenge is coming, not this year because I’m trying to balance my crazy with being smart, when called for.  But the next time I find myself in Tennessee, late December, standing on frost tipped grass, waiting for that starting horn, will 37 miles be all I have?

I know the answer, but I plan to find out for sure.