Kettle Morraine 100 - June 2-3, 2012

40+ miles, I’ve felt horrible for hours, and am ready to give up.  Where did I go wrong?  Maybe I'm not cut out to run a 100.  Stomach cratering, thinking about 2nd hundred DNF, lots of money spent, all of Amy's effort, disrupting the kids’ lives -- AHHHHH!  All for this?!  This is what I do for fun!!!  Seriously?! 

The trip started out well.  Mindy, Pete, and Marvin arrived early Thursday morning.  Optimism and excitement were in the air.  We piled into the minivan for a 9 hour epic journey to Wisconsin.  Amy (my darling wife) sipped her coffee as she listened to 4 slightly unhinged ultra-runners tell stories of glory and gore.  Running to amazing heights in the mountains, broken leg mid-ultra, accidentally using poison ivy as toilet paper (that was me).  I imagine Amy was having 2nd thoughts about crewing and driving.

 When we arrived at packet pickup, the weather was perfect.  A buzz of hope was in the air.  Tomorrow was going to be a life changing day/night.  We ate dinner, got settled for the night, and slumbered with dreams of greatness.

The morning was uneventful.  Amy and I drove Marvin to the start.  I started feeling the jitters, but channeled that energy into visiting the porta-potty 4 times.  Marvin provided comic relief with his "drop buckets" (5 gal contractor buckets used as his drop bags).  Cleverly, he figured out a way to quickly find his stuff at aid stations and have a place to sit as well. 

I can't remember if a gun shot off or someone yelled, "go," but I do remember saying to myself that I was going to work on enjoying every step of the run.  Taking it aid station by aid station.  Not letting my mind wander more than 4-5 miles ahead.  

The "moraines" (steep dips in the terrain - like gigantic moguls) were easy going out.  Slow and steady.  Marvin and I decided to run most of the entire run (depending on how we were feeling).  Marvin had previously done a sub-24 hr 100 at Rocky Raccoon, was a much faster runner than I, and had torn his hamstring + tweaked his calf in a father-daughter soccer game 3 weeks before.  

The first 20 miles weren't bad - weren't great.  My legs were finding a sustainable rhythm.  I kept Marvin's pace in check as he sped up to 10 min/mi.  My stomach was queasy and I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong.  Too little salt, too much food, not enough water?  I was salting much more than training runs, but didn't want to get behind. 

The meadows were beautiful.  Open fields.  Very runable.  Marvin commented on how it was getting warm, but I was cold.   Why was I cold?  We stopped frequently to pee, so that was working.  Do I need a jacket?  Have I stopped sweating?  Ugh.  I gotta turn this around soon. 

After the 50K turn around, my stomach kept cramping.  Marvin periodically got way ahead.  He waited at the aid station, but I started feeling guilty.  I didn't want to blow up by keeping his pace, and didn't want to wreck his race.  Its nearly impossible to run an entire 100 miles with the same person because the highs and lows and pace happen at different times.  

Amy was a dutiful crew member.  She asked all the right questions about salting, hydration, and eating.  She kept saying, “Slow down.  You always do well when you go slow.”  Throughout the day and sleepless night, she traveled hours on unmarked dirt roads only to see Marvin and I for 10-15 minutes.  What an awesome wife!

Poor poor Mindy.  She agreed to help out a guy who covered her entry fee.  It was his first hundred and he was underprepared.  Not only that, but he had personal space issues plus possibly a personality disorder.  Marvin & I kept seeing her and her "friend" as we'd pass or be passed.  Mindy had a great attitude about it, but I could tell from her face that she was not happy.  She was babysitting an unruly, testosterone-filled adolescent.  I thought about betting Marvin as to when she’d drop him.

Fast forward.  Fifteen minutes have passed since that stupid train started and I’m still waiting.  Sipping on water, thinking about DNFing, feeling sorry for myself.  Mindy catches up with no sight of her friend.  She looked relieved and slightly happy.  I mentioned to her that I may call it.   

Five more minutes passed as the train rolled by and I was pissed.  If I was going out, I was going out running.  When the caboose rolled by, I took off like lightning.  Within 3 minutes, no one was behind me.  I noticed how good it felt to run without worry of finishing.  Tears started streaming down my face as hope returned.  

Three minutes passed.  I was moving pretty well.  Marvin had gotten way ahead of me before the train tracks crossing and I thought he was gone.  I let go of the idea of keeping up with him.   

I was running my race.  I could finish this race.  I said out loud, “Kettle – I’m going to make you my bitch!”  Not the most mature statement, but I felt a surge of adrenaline, hope and excitement as I rolled into the mile 47 aid station.

To my surprise, Marvin was waiting for me.  He decided to hang with me the entire race.  I felt grateful and unworthy.  I told him that I was going to run my pace, not try to push it to keep up from him.  He was fine with it and had a hunch that he might need my help in the twilight hours.  Amy seemed relieved that my spirits were better.

Round 2. A dark shadow cast over me when I left the mile 57 aid station. I tossed my cookies 4 times. Everything I ate was colorfully displayed on the side of the trail. Well hell…this was my demise at Heartand 100 in October. Started puking and never recoverd.

Marvin patiently waited and peppered me with questions about what I just did. He said, “let me get this straight - you just drank 3 cups of coke, then ate melon, olives, pickles, potato chips and a PBJ, THEN you took an S-Cap?” I don’t know if he laughed out loud, if I imagined it, or if I was laughing at myself. Of course you’re going to yack if you eat/drink/salt that aggressively. Marvin said (in a fatherly tone), “Larry, you’re allowed to have small sips of water for the next 15 minutes and then I might give you an electrolyte cap.”

Thank God!  A sane voice.  Within 15 minutes, I felt better.  Conclusion: I had been over salting.  Taking 2 S-caps every 15-20 minutes.  When I reduced it to 1 S-cap every 30 minutes, everything came together.

Arriving at the 63 mi start/finish area, I had no doubt of finishing the 2^nd loop.  Marvin and I gathered fresh gear, refueled and were off for a 38 mile “fun” run.

I don’t recall a lot from the night.  It was dark.  The trail got rugged and hilly at times.  I was really sleepy.  Getting to/from Crystal Lake sucked.  I didn’t eat much at the aid stations and kept having to remind myself to nibble on something every 20 minutes.  Quads were destroyed and felt every step going downhill.  Somewhere within the last 25 miles, Marvin said he was hurting and “going inside.”  With headphones on, we walked/ran through the night.  Our clip got slower and slower throughout the evening.

Noteworthy hallucinations:

1.       I kept seeing running clothes that people dropped (i.e., shirts and hats) on the side of the trail.  Mostly it was the white bark contrasting with the ground.   Glad I didn’t attempt to pick up any stuff.

2.       Two large blimps (like the Goodyear Blimp) in a valley.  I think Marvin had his headphones on, because he didn’t respond when I pointed them out.  My mind went to government conspiracy theories as why someone might hide blimps in a Wisconsin valley.   Marvin looked like he was hurting and I thought I could outrun him if the blimps started to chase us.

3.     Wooden benches that didn’t exist.  At the end, I found several real benches – that made it much worse.  I was convinced several times that the benches were real.  I think the fatigue left me wanting to sit down. 

Finishing the hundred was surreal.  27 hours on the nose.  Didn’t feel like I did anything amazing, life changing, or even significant.  It was just another day.  But I was glad to be done.  Happy to lay down.  Thrilled not to be running.  It seemed like a lot of hype and build up to achieve this goal.  But finishing was…meh.

I’ll never forget the moments waiting for that stupid train.  Swallowed in ambivalence and doubt.  Looking down from the edge of failure.  Crossing the tracks and feeling exhilarated with hope.