Date: Sun, 5 Mar 2000 16:34:18 -0500 From: "Holdaway, Jeff" OF TUMS AND TRIPS Y2K ROCKY RACCOON 100 Jeff Holdaway In mid-December I sketched out my racing plans for the year 2000. Planning to follow last year's schedule, I filled in the calendar with six-eight 50K's, two 50 Milers and two 100 Milers, Old Dominion and Wasatch Front. This being my third year of running ultras, I hoped to see continued improvement in race times; however, much depended on getting my mileage up and staying injury free. Having set my race plan, I was rummaging through Stan Jensen's web site and landed on the Rocky Raccoon runners' reports. Reading through a few of the accounts, I decided to add one more race to the docket - Rocky Raccoon 100. Ignoring latent fears that it would probably screw up my early season training schedule, I sent in my application. On the off chance that Dad might break free from his winter farming activities, I called him up and invited him to join me in Huntsville, Texas. To my delight, he said he would be happy to come down and crew and maybe even run one of the 20-mile loops with me. With RR 100 in mind, I ran two local Virginia 50K races in late December and early January. My total mileage for those two months were pretty low, 30-50/week; however, my times for the two races were substantially faster than a year ago. I took it as a good omen. My objectives going into RR 100 were: (1) break my PR from last year's OD 100, 23:14 and hopefully go under 22:00 hours, (2) avoid serious injuries that could set back my training, and (3) have fun. Fortunately, I was able to achieve all three goals. Dad and I arranged our flights to arrive into Houston within an hour of each other on Friday afternoon - the day before the race. We rented a car for the drive to Huntsville and checked into the lovely Motel 6 around 3:30 P.M. We stopped by the local supermarket to pick up some standard race-day morning fare - Gatorade, bananas and Pop Tarts. Yes, the breakfast of champions! Following the race check-in and orientation at the Huntsville State Park, Dad and I returned to the motel for an early turn in. Continuing my gradual improvement of being able to sleep a few hours the night before major races, I awoke around 4:45 A.M. to the sounds of other runners preparing the day ahead. Wisely, I had booked two rooms, rather than sharing with Dad. He's great but he snores to beat the band. Hopefully, he wasn't too offended when I explained why I put him in a room down the hall. Loop 1 (6:00-9:20 - 3:20 split) The race began shortly after 6:00 A.M. with a "GO!" by RD Mickey Rollins and the waving of 100+ flashlights. Most of the runners carried a small auxiliary light for the first 30-40 minutes until daylight. With a new moon it was extremely dark and I was surprised to see several runners relying on the lights of others during the initial trail portion. While relatively well groomed, the trail contained many exposed and hidden roots that would play a significant role in the race throughout. After navigating the first trail section, we popped out of the woods on to the dirt road leading to the first aid station. Hitting the station at just under 30 minutes, I calculated I was pushing a sub-9 minute pace but figured I would slow soon enough. I found both the trails and the service roads wonderfully gentle. Yes, there were numerous roots from the thick forest but compared to the rocks of Wasatch, the course felt like padded carpet. The course continued to alternate between trail and dirt roads with aid stations conveniently spaced 4-5 miles apart. The miles quickly flew by and soon I found myself back to the start/finish line at 9:20 A.M. One loop down, four to go. Dad noted I was 25 minutes ahead of schedule. I considered backing off, knowing how easy it is to crash on hundred milers by going out too fast. I decided to be a bit more cautious on the uphills, but otherwise would try and maintain the pace. Loop 2 (9:20-1:04 -- 3:44 split) The day turned out to be gorgeous. The temperature was climbing from the early morning low of 31 degrees to the low sixties. The sun was shining. It was a beautiful setting for a run in the park. For a time I hooked up with Jack McBroom. Jack's a classic Californian -- mid-forties with long, flowing hair and an infectious smile. We chatted as we ran. Jack was using an 8/2 minute run/walk technique that averaged 10 minute pace. While I would have liked to hang with him, his 18-hour race objective was too quick for me and I let him go after several miles. His finish at sub-19 hours showed he was able to hold his pace well throughout. Somewhere between aid station 2/3 and 174, around mile 35, I hit my first bad patch. A little scary considering the number of miles remaining. Self doubt crept in as I fought back fears of falling apart in the hours ahead. In my prior three 100 milers, I had always finished reasonably strong and had never struggled this early. Trying to combat the rising nausea I was feeling, I popped a couple of Tums and within a couple of miles felt the queasiness dissipate and my energy return. Tums became my newest, best friend and I turned to them throughout the remainder of the race whenever the unsettled feelings in my stomach returned. Hitting the start/finish at mile 40, I quickly grabbed the water bottle Dad had filled with Gatorade and ice, gave him the empty one and took off. A 30 second pit stop, I noted with satisfaction. Having a crew certainly helps. Loop 3 (1:04-4:59 - 3:55 split) By mid- afternoon, the runners were completely spread out over the course. Due to the three out-and-back portions of the race, you constantly were passing people. In particular, it was great to see some of the top dogs from time to time. Jim Garcia, who eventually won the race in 14:35, looked smooth as silk. Amazing to see a guy average 8:40/miles for over 100 trail miles. Janice Anderson, who obliterated the women's course record and finished 3rd overall with a time of 16:03, was equally impressive. Superb genes and hard training are an unbeatable combination. The course is set up with a turnaround at the mid-point of each loop, giving the runners fairly accurate 10/30/50, etc. mile splits. I hit the 50-mile mark at 8:57, which eclipsed by 50-mile PR by 10 minutes. Again, I thought, it was going to be a good day or a death march the final 40 miles. Finishing up the third loop, I was pleased to note that I still was running 80% of the time, although, admittedly, my pace was slowing. Loop 4 (4:59-9:35 - 4:36 split) Reading that the toughest loop mentally is the fourth, I asked Dad to pace me through the next 20 miles. After a slow recovery from Wasatch last September, he was just getting back into his training. He figured, correctly so, that after 60 miles, he would have more than enough juice to pace me through the entire lap. Although it was more than an hour before darkness, we took off with flashlights and headlamps in tow. Surprisingly, I felt reasonably good and tried to continue running all of the flats and downhills. As darkness fell, I quickly realized that navigating around the ubiquitous roots would be the greatest nighttime challenge. Whenever, I tried to push hard on the downhill trail portions, I ended up tripping and stumbling. Finally, after one particularly violent encounter in which I found myself sprawled face down in the dirt with the wind knocked out of me, I determined to take it easy on the trails and only push hard on the roads. Dad's companionship on this 4th loop was a tremendous emotional boost. Loop 5 (9:35-2:32 - 4:57 split) At last, the final loop. Eighty miles were beginning to take their toll. Fortunately, since my rough stretch at mile 35, I had not experienced any bad patches since. I had learned from prior 100s that if I hoped to run late in the race, I should avoid extended periods of walking. Somehow, once my body gets in a lengthy walking mode, I find it nearly impossible to kick into a running gear. Because I felt reasonably good throughout, I tried to keep the walking stretches to a minimum, so I never got far away from the running motion. It seemed to help. As the night progressed, the temperature really dropped (to the mid-20s) and several of the runners suffered from a lack of clothing. Coming back to Aid Station 2/3 for the final time, I saw 2-3 runners sitting close to the campfire attempting to warm up. They appeared to be in the early stages of hypothermia. Another effect of the drop in temperature was the apparent reduction in the battery life of my flashlights and headlamps. I was relying on a Petzl headlamp as my primary light. Using the low beam, I previously have gotten as many as 7-8 hours on the 4 AA batteries. Unfortunately the low-beam bulb blew early on, necessitating my use of the high beam. The battery life plummeted. I changed batteries with 12 miles to go and only got about two hours of light from the new batteries before the Petzl failed entirely. I switched to the small 2 AA light that I had been using periodically as an adjunct light during rough trail sections. It emitted a rather pathetic beam but was sufficient to bring me into the final Aid Station 174, where I grabbed an identical flashlight and headed out on the final 2½ miles to the finish. Due to the short remaining distance I used both lights together, which provided enough light to navigate this rooty section, that is until a half mile later when one of the lights went out, leaving me with one pale glow. Nearing the finish line with ¾ mile remaining, I spotted two more lights and decided to make one last effort to pass a couple of runners. Shortly after stumbling by, I glanced back and saw the lights were bobbing more aggressively, meaning they were picking up the tempo. I turned back to face the trail and noticed to my horror that my remaining light was beginning to fade noticeably. With the new moon, it was absolutely dark in the woods without a light. This can't be happening, I muttered, as I bent over and tried to follow the trail. I looked back again and saw the bobbing lights getting closer and tried to pick up the pace. I held one hand in front of my face and tried to judge whether or not I was on the path by the sound of my steps. (Extra crunching with the left foot -- move to the right, extra crunching with the right foot -- move to the left.) Suddenly, I was out on the road. I glanced back and saw no lights. Momentarily, I thought it was good news until I realized I had gotten off the trail and had come out at the wrong spot on the road. Frantically, I flagged down a startled motorized. "Where's the finish," I yelled. She looked at me like I was nuts and responded "You're not still running are you?" Obviously, not part of the race contingent, I concluded. She pointed me in the direction she thought was the finish line. I ran on with rising panic. "This can't be happen," I screamed inside. Finally, I spotted another car that contained an actual runner, he quickly pointed me back to the trail and I scurried across the finish line. I lost 5 minutes and 2 places with that last ¼ mile stunt. Nonetheless, I was thrilled with my time of 20:32:20. In sum I had a great time in Huntsville. The race was well organized. The course is fast and friendly. Assuming the weather cooperates, it's the perfect venue for running a first 100 or setting a PR. I'm definitely considering a return engagement. Jeff Holdaway Assistant General Counsel Law Department 52/923.27 Phone: (301) 380-4782 Fax: (301) 380-6727