Transgrancanaria 125km—my most recent race—was already nearly 3 weeks ago, and other than the difficulty of actually getting a flight back to Madrid and the normal post-race inability to walk, the memories that I are centered around the enjoyable parts of the experience.
This race was one of several firsts for me and thus it was memorable and enjoyable in those aspects—it was my first race over 101km, the first time I ran through the night and into a magnificent sunrise, my first race in Spain, and the first race where I could really spend some good time with the WAA Team members (though the UTMB festival had a lot of WAA runners last summer, I didn’t get to spend much time with them).
This race was one of several firsts for me and thus it was memorable and enjoyable in those aspects—it was my first race over 101km, the first time I ran through the night and into a magnificent sunrise, my first race in Spain, and the first race where I could really spend some good time with the WAA Team members (though the UTMB festival had a lot of WAA runners last summer, I didn’t get to spend much time with them).
As the oceans have a tide that ebbs and flows, every ultra has its lows and highs. A runner’s ocean could be their energy levels, stomach/nutrition issues, the mental battle to push the pace when the physical pain begins, or a mid-race injury or niggle that grows worse. Every ultra I’ve raced from 42.2k to this 125km beast all put me through the wringer in one way or another as the tide ebbed and flowed. But on that Friday night at 11 o’clock on the beachfront starting line as I stood next to the likes of Aurelien Collet, Cristopher Clemente, Tim Tollefson, Mario Mendoza, Dani Jung, and Pau Capell among other well-known accomplished ultrarunners, I don’t know that any one of us would have been confident to say what specifically nor to what extent a problem may develop in the ensuing 13-15 hours. In the end, several top guys DNF’ed and unfortunately my fellow Americans in Tim and Mario were statistics. But those other guys listed above all ran to a top-5 finish with Pau Capell cruising to a comfortable repeat win.
Ultra running is a journey of miles, and this one was 78 or so of them. And while not a 1000, it still began with a first step. The initial few were to avoid the finish line arch and the next few were to avoid others feet. Steps 10-20 were to avoid cameramen and 50-100 were toward waterlogged sand to save energy and avoid getting a bunch in my shoes. The early miles were spent settling into what I thought was a sustainable pace as I ran up on Sange Sherpa as Jussi Nokelainen, a Finnish friend, and I were catching up on life. I’d met Jussi at my first 100k just over two years ago at the 2016 Vibram Hong Kong 100k. As our conversation brought us up to date on one another’s lives in the last two years, we glanced back and down the mountainside and were mesmerized by the thousand halos of light emitted from the runners behind. What a unique endeavor ultra-marathons are, I pondered. Not many other sports or pursuits put a couple thousand grown men and women together for a full day of camaraderie in some of the most remarkable natural settings on earth where reunions unfold and lives intersect like the trail systems we traverse underfoot.
Jussi, Sange and I ran together for 40km and then Jussi and I were more or less together all the way to El Garanon CP at 84km when stomach issues stopped him for a few minutes. My energy levels were low and my quads were hammered like a pounded steak, but we had a ways to go before we could sleep that night! He had pushed me for 2/3’s of the race and though a new Dutch friend I met en route encouraged me onward with his “We only have one more marathon left” trifling, I knew I had gone out of the gates a bit too aggressive and would pay for that mistake in a few ways. Jussi, for his part, won my “most courageous runner of the day” award as an ankle sprain a mere 5km into the race was repeatedly rolled at least 8 more times in the course of our time together. No doubt this was discouraging and excruciating for him, however his normally too-fast-to-hang-with descent skills made his downhill pace “just right” to push me without losing me. He was still strong enough on climbs to push me so I credit much of my race success to you, Jussi (if you read this! So enjoyable to share those 80k with you!)
Jussi, Sange and I ran together for 40km and then Jussi and I were more or less together all the way to El Garanon CP at 84km when stomach issues stopped him for a few minutes. My energy levels were low and my quads were hammered like a pounded steak, but we had a ways to go before we could sleep that night! He had pushed me for 2/3’s of the race and though a new Dutch friend I met en route encouraged me onward with his “We only have one more marathon left” trifling, I knew I had gone out of the gates a bit too aggressive and would pay for that mistake in a few ways. Jussi, for his part, won my “most courageous runner of the day” award as an ankle sprain a mere 5km into the race was repeatedly rolled at least 8 more times in the course of our time together. No doubt this was discouraging and excruciating for him, however his normally too-fast-to-hang-with descent skills made his downhill pace “just right” to push me without losing me. He was still strong enough on climbs to push me so I credit much of my race success to you, Jussi (if you read this! So enjoyable to share those 80k with you!)
What unfolds in an ultra race, as in life, can make one liable to question prior decisions and the wisdom exercised in certain moments. And outside major catastrophes brought on by ignorance, immaturity, extenuating circumstances or evil in sport or life, there are decisions aplenty one could mull over after the fact and wonder how it all would’ve ended differently if such and such was changed “mid-stride.” But we don’t have time machines and Back to the Future isn’t our reality.
While I would change my first-half pacing if raced again, I don’t regret giving it a go. Looking at the results post-race, only 8 minutes separated me in 15th from 10th place. Eight minutes. After 14 hours and 52 minutes, there are a dozen or two decisions I could have changed to make up 8 minutes. I heard I was as high as 9th place at one point, but I didn't quite eat enough or reach a high enough fitness level to sustain that early effort. But in the end, that’s like life. Whether 15th or 10th, it’s still two hours behind the winner. There’ll always be someone faster and for Pau, perhaps next year someone will best him. But being fastest or richest or most popular all fade in time. There is no clear-cut way to run the perfect ultra because too many factors influence the outcome; further the more I race ultras and wonder mid-race why I am masochistic, I think the top goal can’t solely be to be the “best.” Though I enjoy the competitive side of ultras and getting to the finish line as fast as possible is a primary goal, it’s the journey on the way to the finish line that mirrors life. Our lives aren’t a race to the finish. They are to be enjoyed and reflected upon, introspectively wondered at, shaped by love and joy and goodness without. Paul the Apostle wrote that he trained his body like a boxer, not fighting aimlessly but with his eyes on the prize of heaven. But he very much was a man who knew what value life on this earth has. He perhaps knew better than anyone what it was to “share in the sufferings of Jesus.” He, like Billy Graham who passed away two days before my race began, both arrived at their finish line with the “Well done, good and faithful son!” ringing in their ears. No one wonders if Billy Graham enjoyed his life and impacted people for good.
Every ultra and each life necessarily has its peaks and valleys, an ebb and flow. A night start in an ultra is pointless if there is no sunrise to run into. A life that embraces joy in the morning after a sorrowful night; a life that extends forgiveness when an injustice is perpetrated, a life that loves freely when rejection mars the past—are not these the threads which weave a beautiful tapestry of a life well lived and of a garment we desire to wear?
While I would change my first-half pacing if raced again, I don’t regret giving it a go. Looking at the results post-race, only 8 minutes separated me in 15th from 10th place. Eight minutes. After 14 hours and 52 minutes, there are a dozen or two decisions I could have changed to make up 8 minutes. I heard I was as high as 9th place at one point, but I didn't quite eat enough or reach a high enough fitness level to sustain that early effort. But in the end, that’s like life. Whether 15th or 10th, it’s still two hours behind the winner. There’ll always be someone faster and for Pau, perhaps next year someone will best him. But being fastest or richest or most popular all fade in time. There is no clear-cut way to run the perfect ultra because too many factors influence the outcome; further the more I race ultras and wonder mid-race why I am masochistic, I think the top goal can’t solely be to be the “best.” Though I enjoy the competitive side of ultras and getting to the finish line as fast as possible is a primary goal, it’s the journey on the way to the finish line that mirrors life. Our lives aren’t a race to the finish. They are to be enjoyed and reflected upon, introspectively wondered at, shaped by love and joy and goodness without. Paul the Apostle wrote that he trained his body like a boxer, not fighting aimlessly but with his eyes on the prize of heaven. But he very much was a man who knew what value life on this earth has. He perhaps knew better than anyone what it was to “share in the sufferings of Jesus.” He, like Billy Graham who passed away two days before my race began, both arrived at their finish line with the “Well done, good and faithful son!” ringing in their ears. No one wonders if Billy Graham enjoyed his life and impacted people for good.
Every ultra and each life necessarily has its peaks and valleys, an ebb and flow. A night start in an ultra is pointless if there is no sunrise to run into. A life that embraces joy in the morning after a sorrowful night; a life that extends forgiveness when an injustice is perpetrated, a life that loves freely when rejection mars the past—are not these the threads which weave a beautiful tapestry of a life well lived and of a garment we desire to wear?
No one forces us crazy folks to run 125km. Not exclusive to ultras, though, every race I’ve run over 200 meters has presented me with at least one moment of temptation to back off, back down, quit, or walk away. And in 21 years of racing over 200 races, just three times have I thrown in the towel. An ankle sprain, a fever/flu type illness, and heat exhaustion with repeated bouts of vomiting were those cases. I didn’t set out those days to experience that pain, but when the battle raged there was only one primary goal I was after in choosing the DNF—an absolution to my pain! This mimics life. We all have experiences that are not for the choosing where we are injured therein. In the moment, we all may question what we could have done differently that would have changed the outcome and saved us the heartache, the physical and emotional and spiritual pain. But most of the time in those cases if you can’t come up with a shame-free answer, likely you couldn’t have changed your actions or decisions to avoid it.
Like every ultrarunner, what we do with these hard times after the challenging day on the trails or that season of life is what matters most. Because in the end, we can’t change the past. The trail is just there and it won’t bend to your will and maybe the person who hurt you doesn’t want to reconcile or doesn’t know the extent of the pain inflicted. I pray that no matter what type of races you've run in your life thus far, you will know the love, joy, hope and forgiveness available from a good Father. Just as the sun was peaking over the magnificent craggy mountain ridges, I felt like all the pain of the past night was worth it for that solitary moment. The shop owners and those folks driving past us saw the same views that morning, but I guarantee that Jussi and I shared a deeper joy and reward than them as we marveled at the beauty of the fog-shrouded peaks ablaze in orange morning rays.
Like every ultrarunner, what we do with these hard times after the challenging day on the trails or that season of life is what matters most. Because in the end, we can’t change the past. The trail is just there and it won’t bend to your will and maybe the person who hurt you doesn’t want to reconcile or doesn’t know the extent of the pain inflicted. I pray that no matter what type of races you've run in your life thus far, you will know the love, joy, hope and forgiveness available from a good Father. Just as the sun was peaking over the magnificent craggy mountain ridges, I felt like all the pain of the past night was worth it for that solitary moment. The shop owners and those folks driving past us saw the same views that morning, but I guarantee that Jussi and I shared a deeper joy and reward than them as we marveled at the beauty of the fog-shrouded peaks ablaze in orange morning rays.
The joy of that sunrise ebbed and as we ran into daylight, Jussi and I got separated as I said before. I ended up running with my Dutch friend, Peter, who trains and lives in Switzerland, and as we pushed each other, we nudged closer and closer to the finish. We ran 30km together until I was finally down to the last 10km—a flat but technical section through a rocky riverbed for 6km. I focused my collective energy on not twisting an ankle as the sun beat down on me (oh yeah, some slight oversight on my part had me unsuccessfully turn in my El Garanon 84km CP bag so I didn’t have my sunglasses or visor for the hot part of the day. Peeling skin on my nose and forehead was just a small price to pay though in the grand scheme of how sore I was afterwards!) I passed two guys who’d been leap-frogging with me and Jussi all race and though I threw down 4:00/km pace for the last 4km, I still didn’t pass anyone else. However, I had given it my all and my legs and mind were truly and fully spent upon reaching that glorious finish line. Arnaud, UTWT photographer and friend, graciously helped me to a chair in the shade and a volunteer brought me ice and a Pepsi. Life was good! I had the joy of seeing Jussi, Sange and then Peter all finish, though I couldn’t get out of the chair to go say congrats! The Advanced 64k men’s champ soon finished and them Jeff came through the line, though I honestly missed him as I was trying to recover while lying in some shaded grass nearby. After losing that Pepsi to some other shaded grass, we headed back for a shower, nap and a ocean-side recovery dinner!
This race was one for the books—I definitely learned a bit more as to what it’ll take to race the over-100k races well. The DNF rate for TGC is fairly high, and though I finished, this course did me in. My hamstrings aren’t fully recovered even now, and while UTMF 100-miler is coming at the end of April, I’m still a bit hesitant to return to full training volume as my body has been slow to come around after this one. It was a somewhat last-minute decision to race this one as I had originally planned on the 50-50 at 9 Dragons in HK. So, many thanks to WAA for all their help, coordination of logistics and on-course support to first get me there and then to the finish line! It was a joy to spend the week with this team and even the office folks who I'm normally in touch with via a phone/computer were out there on-course in the middle of the night crewing for me! When they asked me if I was cold, I wasn’t sure why they’d think so as it was “still” 3C! Guess running moderately fast works up a sweat! Til next time, thanks for running alongside me in this journey of life!
This race was one for the books—I definitely learned a bit more as to what it’ll take to race the over-100k races well. The DNF rate for TGC is fairly high, and though I finished, this course did me in. My hamstrings aren’t fully recovered even now, and while UTMF 100-miler is coming at the end of April, I’m still a bit hesitant to return to full training volume as my body has been slow to come around after this one. It was a somewhat last-minute decision to race this one as I had originally planned on the 50-50 at 9 Dragons in HK. So, many thanks to WAA for all their help, coordination of logistics and on-course support to first get me there and then to the finish line! It was a joy to spend the week with this team and even the office folks who I'm normally in touch with via a phone/computer were out there on-course in the middle of the night crewing for me! When they asked me if I was cold, I wasn’t sure why they’d think so as it was “still” 3C! Guess running moderately fast works up a sweat! Til next time, thanks for running alongside me in this journey of life!