Race Report - The Limberlost Challenge 2017 (DNF)

You win Limberlost, you win.

I went into this year's event with high hopes of not only completing another ultramarathon (56km), nor just bettering my 2014 result of 9:11 but actually executing a smart game plan and perhaps posting a top-10 or even a top-5 finish.  That's the kind of shape that I felt that I was in, and with my skyrunner friend Juan helping to keep me honest I thought that the odds might actually be stacked in my favour.

Pre-race
With so many of the RunNinjas heading up to tackle The Limberlost Challenge this year I carpooled with my friends Joy and Lewis - Joy was feeling under-trained going into her first 28km race attempt, and Lewis was still nursing a nagging patellar injury but had volunteered to assist at an aid station.  For my part I felt quite confident having completed the 50km distance at Pick Your Poison and believing that I'd learned a number of value lessons that I could bring to the table this time around.  One thing that I'd done differently was to get in a solid two-week taper ... now I'll admit that it left me feeling a bit stale on race-day morning but the key was that I was able to nail all of my desired paces during the workouts leading up to Limberlost weekend so I was reasonably confident that I could trust the training that I'd put in.

After about an hour we arrived in Huntsville and opted for a short pit-stop for washrooms and gasoline.  Well, we got the washrooms part but it was evident after two non-operational fueling stations that some kind of wicked storm had knocked the stuffing out of the computer networks that worked the pumps.  I'd later find out that my friend Vicki had no power through the night at her hotel in Huntsville thanks to a blown transformer somewhere.  This might have been my first cue that the day would turn out a little differently that I'd anticipated.

Pulling into the parking lot at The Limberlost Forest and Wildlife Reserve we all commented on how many cars had already filled the designated parking area (and it was approximately an hour before the 56km start time).  What we would quickly come to realize was that as many cars as there were the ratio of mosquitoes to cars was even higher ... a momentary opening of the driver-side door let in seven or eight of the bloodsuckers.  Between the soggy spring weather that we'd experienced and the overnight thunderstorm the bugs were swarming in stereotypical Muskoka fashion.  As such it was a mad dash from the van to the sign-in tent and back to the van to try to get ready in advance of the starter's pistol.  We still managed to connect with a bunch of RunNinjas and snap the obligatory pre-race selfies, all while getting drained of a pint or two of blood.

Photo credit:  Kathleen Power

The race
I was mentally prepared to go slow, and with Juan setting the pace we took a very measured and controlled approach to the first two 14km loops. We weren't excessively chatty, but carried on at a clip that certainly permitted casual conversation about the gorgeous scenery and the occasional sections of mud (***foreshadowing***) that we encountered along the way.  Over the first 7km we were overtaken by a number of eager runners - which we'd fully anticipated would happen and were none too worried about - and eventually dialed in to a pace that kept us together with another friend of mine named David (who'd recently completed the Sulphur Springs 200 miler).  I constantly kept checking back with Juan to ensure that I wasn't getting overanxious about our time, and after the first two loops we were pretty much spot on, crossing the first 14km in 1:40:40 and dusting off the next 14km in 1:38:09.  At this point a negative split was in sight ...!

But then the third loop happened.

Nothing too monumental, but during this lap the mud sections had sprawled out to about four times their starting sizes, and one of the most significant bogs was found along a 70m incline.  Naturally we all slowed while traversing these shoe-sucking pits, but I think that they also actually wound up doing a number on my hamstrings as at about 35km my legs started to offer some unusual and unfamiliar feedback.  I had to let Juan skip along out of sight ahead of me as I felt like the pace was becoming labourious, and I was becoming concerned about the sensations in my lower limbs.  For one of the first times in an ultra it wasn't my cardio or my fueling or my race tactics that was the presenting problem ... could it be that my fitness just wasn't there?

Naaahhh, it couldn't be.  After all I'd managed to recently power through a billy-goat's worth of 50k at Pick Your Poison and continued to build up my training after that.  In the end I can't say for certain what did me in, but my hamstrings were tight and led to me altering my gait ever-so-subtly ... and I could tell that after completing the third loop that if I decided to finish out the race that I'd almost definitely be setting the stage for some kind of compensation injury.  With that in mind I decided that discretion would be the better part of valour on this day and pulled the plug at the start/finish area, noting this to both the course marshal and the event medical crew.

Post-race
Part of me certainly thought that this was a moment of shame - after all I'd managed to tough out every other race I'd ever participated in, regardless of how difficult it felt.  And yet on this particular occasion it totally felt like the right thing to do - I was not going to be competitive any more in this race, and with pacing duties ahead of me this fall I didn't want to sabotage the rest of my summer training season having to nurse a wonky knee or wrecked quads ...

... which unfortunately is exactly what happened to my pal Juan.  While he finished the race (taking 11th overall and a bronze medal finish for his age category) he pretty much collapsed in pain at the conclusion of the run.  Apparently he'd also questioned the wisdom of finishing the final 14k - which we eventually both chalked up to the instability of running through long sections of mud - but decided to do it anyway.  He finished with a high degree of knee pain that left him hobbling and unable to make it to the podium when his name was announced over the PA system.  The next day he'd actually take himself into the emergency room at Royal Victoria Hospital and was told that while he would not require surgery he was facing at least a 5-week 'no running' order.

All in all I came away satisfied with what I'd accomplished - a solid 42k trail training run (although even Strava refused to fully acknowledge my effort!), a great day spent with Juan and cheering on so many of my fellow RunNinjas, and the intentions of perhaps one day returning yet again to flog the Limberlost Challenge into submission.

What?  Even the kilometres that I toughed out didn't count?!?

But this time, I yield.  You may have won the battle Limberlost, but not yet the war.

Race Report - The Limberlost Challenge 2017 (DNF)

three little letters

DNF.  DNS.

each acronym sends shudders down the spine of a competitively-spirited racer.

if those letter combinations are unfamiliar to you, DNF is short for 'did not finish' and DNS stands for 'did not start'.  neither of them are desirable appendages to your name on a race results table.  in the case of the former the participant was able to launch into the fray but for one reason or another found him/herself unable to complete the task at hand; in the case of the latter, circumstances (often injury) pre-empted the individual from even stepping up to the line to begin the contest.

i'm thankful that i've not posted either standing in any race that i've registered for, although in one instance i did come awfully close.

this past week our faithful group of Barrie Running Ninjas sent our best wishes off with sensei and MEC-sponsored athlete jim willett who was traveling to colorado for the Desert RATS stage race - a six-day adventure crossing into utah along the kokopelli trail.

if you know jim at all you'd know that he really enjoys running - and from what i understand the joy that he finds from racing is not so much about the mano-e-mano nature of the duel but rather from (a) discovering the strength, resolve and latent abilities that emerge when testing oneself under demanding/adverse conditions and (b) the comraderie found amongst runners who brave such environments.  with that being said he knew that he was entering an event with a very small field of registrants (18) and that he was in fairly strong shape having put in the requisite training.  we all (including his sponsors) hoped that this would translate into a strong showing if not placing by the end of it all.

little did any of us realize that it could end so quickly.

you might know that frustrating feeling of watching a luggage carousel circle around and around with everyone else's suitcases except for yours ... i've been there more than once (first time while on honeymoon in england, and more recently after returning from a trip to romania).  imagine now that those bags contain critical pieces of ultrarunning/survival equipment for a six-day race through the desert ... welcome to jim's world this past sunday.

however as resourceful (and amicable) as he is, it appears that jim managed to cobble together enough gear from his fellow runners to begin his trek.  he's nothing if not doggedly determined.

and yet the kokopelli would vie him for the last word.

at the conclusion of stage 1 a number of the Desert RATS runners posted on the official website about their experiences from the first day, and to my dismay i read that jim had somewhere missed a turn, wandered from the trail by a number of kilometres and subsequently missed the hard cut-off time resulting in a DNF.

the first one of his already-storied running career.

many of us who consider jim a personal friend were bummed by the news - but in typical jim fashion, he managed to express an irrepressible optimism about what happened not only that day, but has continued to demonstrate the joy that is not dependent on circumstances by apparently choosing to run the remaining stages of the race (even though they do not technically count toward anything).

it's in view of all of this that i suggested on social media that we apply a different abbreviation to jim's 2015 Desert RATS experience.

DNQ.

as in did not quit.

that's really what happened here.  it wasn't a matter of whether or not he was able to abide by the stipulations of the event - it's that in spite of all that threatened to turn this journey upside down for him, he persevered.  and whatever the stats sheet might say, that is the mark of a champion.

and that most definitely describes my friend jim.

three little letters

race report - the 2014 limberlost challenge

i should have posted a DNF.

not that i wanted to - but had i been left to my own devices, that would have been the result.

this is a bit of a different race report compared to other ones that i've posted, partly because i think that as my first trail race and my first ultramarathon i have a different story to tell.

there were three defining elements to my running of this year's edition of the limberlost challenge:

1. mud.
2. blood.
3. jim.

let's first get out of the way some of the ancillary details - my friend jim willett and i carpooled together up to the limberlost reserve (about 1h40min from the commuter parking lot at the north end of my city) before the crack of dawn.  the 56k race started at 8am, and given that neither of us had been there before we wanted to give ourselves enough margin for a leisurely drive and kit pick-up.

i wasn't the only Team RF member there, but i don't think that anyone else wore Skechers!

the start/finish location where we parked was well organized with volunteers, clearly delineated tent areas (for registration, bag-drop, vendor booths) and an adequate number of port-a-potties.  aside from some swatting of mosquitoes, the pre-race routine was rather uneventful - but i did notice that the trail/ultra running crowd seem to be more relaxed and friendly as a group versus the organized road races in which i've participated.  they say that trail runners are a different breed - and i began to get a sense of why that's said.

after some preliminary remarks from the emcee and then the race organizer (neil jefferson) jim and i prepared to be launched from the chute as the first wave of runners (56k @ 8am, then 42k, 28k and 14k in 20min. intervals after that).  we spotted last year's winner and lined up just at the rear of the pack that would take off after him.

the course itself is really quite pretty - with generous doses of elevation changes (the most brutal 35m hill climb coming within the first mile), plenty of shade, very few bugs and lots of scenic running beside and over four different lakes.  which leads me to the first of the triumvirate of key determinants for my race result:

mud

this is really a general category header, but also a very specific one as well.  thanks to a well-watered week leading up to the event there were stretches of mud along the trail that started off as 4m long and 1m wide but ended up (by the fourth lap) being easily 13m long and 4m wide.  

the kind of stuff that will suck the shoes right off of your feet and drag them down to the nether regions below.

not my shoe, and not my image - but you catch the drift ...

i was thankful for the various boardwalks over the lake areas where i could dip my mud-laden shoes into the water in order to rinse off the unwanted several ounces per foot.

all this made a challenging course even tougher.  i knew that in my preparations for this race that i needed to be ready to go long - and so i respected the 56k distance, averaging between 120-138km per week.

what i didn't do was respect the course.

while i'd integrated some trail work into my training plan, i didn't run any long runs on the trails.  on top of that, i should have spent more time acclimatizing to - and planning for - the downhill sections.  i basically jogged/walked the uphill stretches but then bounded down the downhills to make up the time.  what ended up happening was that after 2 laps (28k) my quads were fairly trashed.

had i been more conservative in tackling the slopes i would not have ended up walking most of the third and fourth laps.  i opened with a 1:31:59 first lap and closed with a 3:06:45 final lap.

blood

this had to do more with my nutritional plan (or lack thereof) than anything.  

i'd decided to carry my standard complement of four gels on me, along with a trail mix granola bar and my Nathan Quickdraw Plus handheld bottle.  i packed a drop bag (which i never went to) with additional granola bars, some Clif Shotbloks and loose trail mix ... but figured that with several well-stocked aid stations along the route that i would be well provided-for.

somewhere along the way two disastrous things happened - i failed to take enough electrolytes and my salt intake was too low.  
ah, ultrarunner problems.

the first real sign of trouble happened at the start/finish aid station after lap #3.  my pal jim had been waiting for just about an hour at that spot for me to cross, and had inquired several times with the course marshals as to whether or not i had either (a) passed him unawares or (b) been lost/injured/removed from the race.  as neither turned out to be true, he was somewhat relieved to see me ... but as soon as i stopped to load up and chat with him it all hit.

lightheadedness.  extreme (i mean extreme) fatigue.  tingling sensations in my arms.  a pressure build up in my ears.

the race doc spotted me and immediately came over to make sure that i was alright (which i clearly wasn't) - however, i managed to tell him that i was going to be ok and that i would gauge my ability to continue.  it wasn't until after the conclusion of the race that i found out that he doubted that i would be able to handle another loop of Limberlost.

digest version of what came next:  i stumbled back onto the course with jim for about another 700m before experiencing a near total physical shutdown.  jim had to check my pulse and then sit with me for almost 20 min. before i could continue any further.  i'm pretty sure that although he was able to get a pulse reading at my wrist my blood pressure had just about bottomed out.  after we crossed the finish line nearly 3 hours later i was assisted to the medical tent and not released for a good 45 minutes because my blood pressure read something like 80/50.  however, thanks to the good care of dr. gribe, stephanie, abdullah and derek (?) who attended to me in the Sportlab station i was able to take in some fluids and finally get things back up to 100/60.  

it was truly like being rescued from the brink ... which brings me to the third and most critical factor to my day.

jim

if you've read this blog at all you will have encountered jim's name many-a-time, not the least of which was in one of my first on the run interview segments.  a high-level extreme ultrarunner, it was an honour to have him accompany me to the Limberlost Challenge as part of his preparation for his attempt at a new record for an end-to-end run of the Bruce Trail.

little did i know that he would literally get me through to the finish line.

aside from tidbits of advice and gobs of encouragement, jim put his aspirations for the day on hold for me when i had my edge-of-disaster moment at the beginning of the final lap.  i was 99.9% sure that i had nothing left in the tank, that my body was in the final stages of hibernation (as a self-preservation mechanism) and that this would be the first race that i would not be able to finish.  it was during these pivotal 20 minutes that jim told me the things that i didn't want to hear ("you're fitter than i am", "we'll walk, then jog, then walk, then run", "i've been exactly where you are now, i know that you can still go") but not in the way that was condescending or impatient.  he really wanted to see me finish - and more than that - he literally knew that i could do it.  i didn't have the wherewithal to process the fact that he had been in races where fellow runners were collapsing, being attended to, and then resuming racing - so he was not simply blowing sunshine up my behind.

but the fact that he was there with me - and would have been willing to take the humiliating walk with me back to the start/finish area in order for us to pull out together - was humbling and simultaneously strengthening.

so after enduring those 20 minutes of mosquito attack (they were merciless on motionless subjects), i got up to stumble forward.

stumbling turned into shuffling.

shuffling into walking.

walking into power hiking.

power hiking into a trot.

a trot back into a run.

all because of jim.

final result - 56km in 9:11:00.

some last notes:

• i'd made a game time decision to switch from wearing the Skechers GObionic trail to instead work with the GOrun ultra - this was a solid decision.  the GOrun ultras worked fantastically well in terms of grip, stability, comfort (no blackened/lost toenails, hotspots, blisters, or even end-of-run discomfort), draining and drying.  more reasons to love this shoe!
• i saw a couple of other Team Running Free compatriots at the race - i know that there was a lot of Team RF support at the North Face Endurance Challenge at Blue Mountain on the same weekend, so it was nice that we were able to represent the team at both ultras.
• my respect and admiration for ultrarunners (especially trail ultrarunners) is through the roof.  this is an entirely different animal ... and in fact jim would find out from the race organizer (neil) that the highest proportion of DNFs at the Limberlost Challenge was in the 42k category.  apparently road marathoners think it's a cinch to make the switch over to running a trail marathon.  i now know better!
• will i return to Limberlost 2015?  now almost two weeks removed from the race, i'm going to say yes.  we have some unfinished business ... as much as i am able to say that i completed this ultra, i'm not an 'ultrarunner'.  i'm an 'ultrawalker' at best.

have you completed an ultra?  how about a trail ultra?  what are your thoughts about this kind of event?

race report - the 2014 limberlost challenge