Tag: tripping

Off-Season Thoughts

I shut myself down from running in mid-November, after attempting Tunnel Hill 100 for the third time, only running occasionally and only short-distance stuff.  Doing nothing but running long and slow had been a blessing initially because speed was causing me some issues.  But now, after three years, long and slow is wearing me down too.

I’ve spent some time this fall thinking about what I want to do next year.  I like to find races and set goals, and I really miss riding my bikes and doing triathlons.  I was pondering whether to keep running ultra-distance runs.  I have really grown to like the challenge, and the backyard/last runner standing events are so enjoyable to do.  I know one thing for certain – I’m done chasing the 100-mile finisher goal for a while.  I’ve had three shots at it, and I’m not sure that distance is for me, an aging runner who should have attempted that distance earlier in life.  I’m not saying I’m done, I just don’t want to put myself through that again right now.  I already have the Chicago Marathon on my calendar, and I believe that is more than I should tackle.

I recently came across a new race format that I found very interesting.  It’s an ultra-distance event (50K) that has an element of the backyard/last runner standing format to it but adds a speed challenge.  It’s called the “Trail Golf Endurance Challenge” and is local to me, located in Valparaiso, Indiana.  The format is runners will run nine “holes” starting on the hour.  The distance of each hole is a little under 4 miles of technical trail terrain.  If you can average an 8 min/mile or under for the hole, you get an “eagle,” worth two points.  A sub-1o min/mile is a birdie-3, a sub-12 min/mile is a par-4, a sub-15 min/mile is a bogey-5 and anything over a 15 min/mile is a double bogey-6.  So if you run an average of 10 min/miles for each of the nine holes, you will end up with a score of 27.  The runner with the lowest score will be the winner.  Sounds like a lot of fun to me.

But there are two things that stand in the way of me signing up for it.  First, my daughter will be starting a new job and may have to move to another area on that weekend, which will require dad to assist.  And secondly, I KEEP TRIPPING AND FALLING DOWN!

The crack, the shoe, and me wondering what the hell happened.

I really don’t understand how a simple trip to put the garbage bins to the curb and to grab the mail can be a tricky endeavor for me, but on this cold day I decided to pick up the pace a little to get back up the driveway and into the house and my foot got caught on the lowest of low trip hazards ever – the small little gap between sections of my concrete driveway.  It’s barely 2mm high!  My legs were doing a cartoon spin trying to catch myself, but I went down anyway.  Fortunately I had time to get my hands under me to prevent a face plant, but my shoe went flying and so did the mail.  Fortunately, my dog Murphy was the only witness to this craziness.

So, maybe I should stop thinking about trail running altogether because my past history has shown that a fall is certainly a high probability.

If you are less of a klutz and would like more info about the Trail Golf Endurance Challenge, here’s the link:  Trail Golf

Paleozoic Trail Runs – Devonian Spring II – 25K Race Report

Paleozoic Trail Runs – Devonian Spring II 25K Race Report

When:   March 18, 2023

Where:   Willow Springs, Illinois

Finish Time:   2:44:53

Finish Place:   20th overall, 4th in Age Group M50-59

Results Link:  RunRace Devonian Spring II 2023 Results

I ran this race last year in rainy and muddy conditions and it didn’t deter me from signing up for it this year for some reason.  This year has to be better, right?  Nope.  11 degrees F. at the start with a feels-like temperature of -2.  That’s because it was super windy too!  Fun times.  At least it wasn’t muddy.  Nice and firm frozen ground, which I would become very acquainted with later on.

I got there early enough to see my crazy ultrarunning friend Jodi start the 50K race an hour before my race started.  I picked up my race packet and sat in the warm car for an hour.  I had brought lots of clothing options and I really thought that I was going to have to run in my coat.  But after seeing what some others were opting for, I also went a more minimal route – three long-sleeved shirts, the race shirt over that, two layers of gloves, a balaclava with a visor and another hat on top of it, and a new windbreaker jacket I bought last week.  I also wore my warmest running pants which might not have been necessary, and to add to that, the elastic wasn’t as strong as it used to be.  I slowed several times to pull them up, but eventually stopped and tied the drawstring in a knot. Anyway, I was pretty comfortable and maybe a little too warm.

I walked over to the start about 5 minutes before and took a look around at the competition.  The race director gave us some last-minute info and the countdown was on, but no one was anywhere near the start gate.  As he declared go, I was the first to bolt through it and off to the races!

I wasn’t kidding that no one was willing to take the lead! Here I am bolting through the start gate!  Photo credit Bill & Michelle Thom/RunRace.com used with permission.

I’m in first place!  I had a smart pre-race plan of pacing slowly and not starting out too fast.  Race day adrenaline took over and it wasn’t long before my labored breathing was forcing me to slow down.  Being in first place in any race is kinda fun, but I would much rather pass people (encouraging!) than be passed (discouraging!).  By a quarter-mile into it, a young lady joined me and we paced together until about a mile into it, when we got to a hill and I slowed and she didn’t.  She would finish in 2nd overall.  I had no business pacing with her.  Another guy passed and I was now in third.

I kept up the count every time someone passed me, and I would tell them “you are now in 4th! or 5th or 6th, etc.  I quit telling them after I dropped out of the top 10, which was about 4-5 miles into the race.

I was starting to sense that something was wrong with the way I was feeling.  I felt like I was running on fumes and might be in for a slog.  Thankfully, I brought along some gels to help get me through some rough spots.

I got to the turn-around of this out-and-back race and was feeling pretty happy about my time at that point.  My split was an hour and twelve minutes for 7.75 miles and I was turning for home.  But right about a half-mile later I came to a dead stop, tripping on some damn root or stone and falling to the ground with a thud.  Since I have started running trails I have been falling, and I was super cognizant of that today, but it didn’t matter.  The bill of my visor struck the ground causing my glasses to be forced into my nose causing a cut.  I had the wind knocked out of me, yet that didn’t stop me from unleashing a string of curse words that had the forest creatures running.  I was also seeing some stars after getting to my feet.  That’s a new one.  A few kind runners took time to stop and take stock of my dumb ass and offer assistance.  One asked if I wanted her to walk me back to the turn-around for help and I initially said yes.  Then I said no.  I could walk, nothing seemed broken, and I felt like I could probably press on.  And press on I did, albeit much, much, slower.

The rest of the way was a combination of running the flat sections and walking up and down hills and just moving forward.  I was starting to get foot cramps and I was starting to think I was very dehydrated.  I had water and I was drinking it, but I don’t think it was enough.  I didn’t feel like I had been sweating all that much, but my wife Kari said my clothes were soaked when I got home.

I got to the finish and was glad it was over.  One volunteer asked if I was okay, and I said no.  I was mad at myself, but it was nice of him to ask.  The race director asked how old I was and then said I had just missed the age group award.  I kind of figured that out.  It was actually a relief because it meant I didn’t have to hang around for any awards.

I walked back to the car and sent Kari this picture:

I sent “I’m all done with my 25K!”

Kari replied “Why are you bleeding!!”

Me:  “The ground might have had something to do with it.”

Her:  “I can’t let you out of the house!!”

I was a little concerned that my calves would cramp up on the 20-minute drive home, so I got out and walked around a little bit.  I went into the toilet and peed some pretty dark urine, which was all the indication I needed that I was pretty dehydrated.  I grabbed a nearly frozen Coke from the finish line and started drinking it.  It turned me around pretty quickly and I drove home with no issues.

So there you have it, falling at trail races seems to be a thing for me.  It’s a good thing that I only have three more on the calendar this year.

I Be Trippin’

I’ve heard people say that time seems to slow down when you fall, and you feel like you are falling in slow motion. But that hasn’t been my experience, quite the contrary. For the second time this year, I tripped and fell today and I barely was able to brace myself for the impact, just like the last time.

The first time I fell I was on my fifth loop of the WausaUltra Backyard Ultra in Wausau, Wisconsin back in late April. I was doing well and feeling pretty good as I closed in on twenty-one miles. But out of nowhere, something grabbed my toe, and down I went.

Today, I was pacing myself through a 10-mile run and was just coasting along on the paved bike path. It was pretty sunny and I had decided to head into the forest preserve for the much-appreciated shade. Once in the preserve, I had a choice to make; I could stay on the paved portion of the path, or I could live dangerously and run on the much more technical trail. Now, for the past few years, I had sworn off running on the dirt path because I was training for some big race and didn’t want to chance – get this – possibly tripping and injuring myself! But for some reason, my brain overrode that failsafe breaker switch, and happily, I trotted onto the tree root-laden path.

I wasn’t more than a quarter-mile into the path when I encountered a walker ahead of me, going in the same direction and wearing earbuds. I attempted to get his attention with two loud requests to pass and as I watched to see if I had got his attention, I got tripped up and down I went.

I seemed to fall with the same velocity as the first time, but I was actually able to instinctively tuck my arms underneath me and brace myself for the impact better than I did the last time. I kind of felt like a wide receiver that had been tackled by the ankles and was glad to know that I was still holding on to the football. It’s comforting to know that I’m getting better at falling. Maybe someday I will be able to do a tuck and roll and pop right back up.

As I lay there looking at some gnarly roots and groaning loudly, I could hear the gentleman asking me if I was okay, repeatedly. I guess I had his attention now. I took an assessment of what happened and I quickly came to the conclusion that I am one dumb-ass trail-running fool. It was nice to know that the guy was able to see me embarrass myself in front of him. I think it was the fifth or sixth “Are you okay?” that I finally answered him with a “yeah, I’m okay.” I also added, “Why the fuck does this keep happening to me?!” It was a rhetorical question, and he didn’t answer it anyway.

What’s the old saying? If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? Well, if trees are anything like me, you bet your ass they do. There was a loud OOMPH! when I hit the ground. I got up and grumbled, and ran off down the path swearing loudly at myself – WTF? WTF? Dammit!

The last time I fell it was into some mud. You’d think that might have worked out better for me, but I must have hit the wooden plank footbridge first. This time I hit the dirt, but somehow managed to miss the bazillion roots that surrounded me. I looked and saw some abrasions, but no bumps or bruises this time around. I took my water bottle and rinsed the dirt out of my wound and continued down the path. Then I realized that I had to run the remaining four miles home looking like I had just ran a Tough Mudder or something.

I got home in one piece. I grabbed my phone to document my stupidity and then jumped into the pool to cool down and wash off the rest of the dirt from the fall. I think I’ll skip the trail running for a while. I’m not “falling” in love with falling.