The Barefoot Running Book - Jason Robillard [61]
The fourth section started out silky smooth but got rough quickly. During this leg I talked with a few runners including a guy who had fallen multiple times. Even though this was his first 50-miler, he was looking strong despite being covered in mud.
I also met up with a man who was checking the ribbons used to mark the course. We talked for a few miles before he turned back. He also worked the course for Dances with Dirt, a notoriously difficult race held in the same area. I was unaware Dances with Dirt used the same course. Based on the horror stories I’d heard about that race, this new revelation worried me.
I also encountered what would come to be my nemesis throughout the daytime hours—mountain bikers! While the vast majority of the bikers I encountered were considerate and supportive—many even got off the trail, or at least move to the other side—a few ruined it for the rest with some yelling at us for “using their trail.” But aside from those bikers, the day was going well so far.
The fourth aid station went smooth as silk. The crew seemed to be finding its groove and I was in and out in no time at all. As I was leaving I told them to give my apologies to Rich for unceremoniously ditching him.
The last leg was approximately 4.1 miles of rocky hell. While the hills were about the same as the rest of the course, the trails were decidedly more technical. I would grow to hate this leg as the day wore on.
During the beginning of this first loop I was feeling good, perhaps due to the two pints of Ben and Jerry’s® I consumed. I was ahead of my time predictions, but then, about half way, I suddenly started to crash. It was totally unexpected. My pace slowed, I didn’t have any energy, and my motivation suddenly disappeared. This wasn’t supposed to happen this early and I started to panic.
As the lap progressed, I went through my mental checklist of possible causes. I was going okay with hydration and electrolytes, and had plenty of calories. Maybe it was a sudden blood sugar crash due to all the calories from the coffee cake and ice cream. I decided I needed some protein.
I could snag something at the start/finish line, which was about a half mile away.
To help keep my feet dry, I spontaneously decided to take my Vibrams off for this section. It felt good to strip my damp socks and shoes off, and the dirt under my feet felt cool and refreshing. This new sensation provided a barely-perceivable boost to my worsening mood.
The trail leading to the start/finish line was fairly rough, but I was alert enough to easily avoid the small, sharp rocks. I traversed a few hills, hit the cut-grass path, turned the last corner, passed by a cheering crowd sitting around the fire pit, ran down a small hill, and crossed the line to finish my first lap. Only five more to go.
The tent at the start/finish was a busy place with lots of runners and plenty of food. I ate a turkey sandwich and a cup of chicken noodle soup. However, I didn’t see my crew. Perhaps they got caught up waiting for Rich. I exited the tent and started the quarter mile run to the trail head. As I crested the last grassy hill of the park, I saw my entire crew cheering loudly. They had set up a chair near the trail head. Their logic was simple—it was close to the RV. That worked out well allowing me to do my aid station routine without having to deal with the traffic at the aid station. I didn’t tell my crew that I felt like garbage. Instead I just smiled, did my thing, and then hit the trail again.
Lap two started badly as it took awhile to get out of the funk, though eventually my mood did improve. Still suspecting the sugar buzz as the culprit, I was questioning the logic of the Ben and Jerry’s shakes. When I got to the first aid station on lap two, I took one sip and gagged. I was officially past the point where I could tolerate sugary food and