My first ultra. 40 miles.
Since becoming a runner, I have been passionate about getting my 5k and 10k times faster with each new race. Over the last two years, I have focused on the same with the half and full marathon distance. After failing to meet any of my goals in my first marathon except to finish, why would I even consider an ultra marathon?
Well, that’s the funny thing about peer pressure. With Stan running almost exclusively ultras over the last couple years, and my friend Nick Schuster becoming the race director of this race (which, by the way, is the oldest ultra marathon in Georgia), I had a lot of people asking me to step up and meet this challenge head on. So, I did. My wife Christine and oldest daughter Abigail agreed to be my crew, which was great because we had a lot of time to plan and talk through how to work together to be sure that I completed the race. My fuel would be Maurten gels, Kind bars, and food from the aid stations such as bananas and pbj’s. My hydration would be all electrolytes, using Nuun tablets. We had 8 liters prepped the night before the race to make sure that there was enough.
I had the fuel I needed, I had been training at a high level (up to 80 mile weeks), and believed that it was at least possible for me to, if nothing else, finish this race. I was able to visit the park and run a 7ish mile section of the course two weeks prior to the race, which was honestly one of the best things I could have done. It gave me a lot of peace to have a visual of what the trail was going to be like. It is ROCKY! I train a lot on roads and sidewalks, with trails thrown in only once a week at most, so I needed to prepare myself for the constant attempts that mother nature would be taking to break my ankles on this one.
START LINE:
Nick had been thorough in his race prep, and everything was ready for us to go out and run our best race. The race temp was great at this point, around 50 degrees. The race started at 6 am. There were about 40 runners at the start line, so it wasn’t overly intense or climactic as we began our movement toward the darkness of the trail entrance with our collective head lamps casting a glow in every direction, even though only for a small area around our group. As we moved through the first part of the trail, the group started to break up on the first uphill. I found myself in the front with 3 others. I remembered what Stan had told me as we started to ascend the first steep incline. “Save your climbing legs. Walk up the early hills.” I didn’t really have to worry about it though because the others in my group were more seasoned ultra runners, and automatically started to do just that.
10.2 Miles, MOLLY HUGGER AID STATION:
Christine was waiting for me, which I did not expect at this point in the race. I had taken enough fluid and fuel with me so that her and Abigail would not have to rush back to the race after dropping me off in the morning. But there she was, and I was grateful to see her, and for her to see me doing well. I was in first for the moment. I grabbed a pbj, and headed out. The sandwich actually didn’t sit too well with me and gave a sense of “almost heartburn”. It wasn’t bad, but I decided that was the one and only pbj I was going to have for the day. I had been using a Maurten or Kind bar every 25 minutes or so, and felt like it would be good to do that and take a banana at each aid station to change things up when I had the option.
17 Miles, ROCKY POINT AID STATION:
Unfortunately, a couple wrong turns meant that we had slowed our overall pace and allowed the larger group behind us to close in quite a bit. We were still in the lead, but not by as much. I changed from my 2 liter bladder to my 1.5 bladder at this point which took a while, so the others in my group headed out a minute or so before I did. I was able to catch them in about 20 minutes, but in hindsight, that may not have been the thing to do. I was starting to wear out already, having run for just over 3 hours by this time. It was still nice to be with people and not be alone, so maybe it was the right call.
At the next aid station, no crew was allowed, so I grabbed a banana and carried on… in the wrong direction. One of the volunteers who happened to be at an intersection in the trail sent me (and maybe 5 others as I heard) in the wrong direction. Luckily, this alternate path lead to a dead end after just around 100 meters, but because I am a trusting fellow, it took me a while to come to grips with the fact that we had to go back and choose the other path that we were told not to go on. Again, one of the more seasoned runners in my group had a strong notion that we needed to do just that, so we were back on our way in the right direction within a few minutes.
I remember reading in the instructions for the race that it was MY responsibility to be able to navigate the trails. I wasn’t mad at anyone, and certainly have the highest appreciation for the effort and time that the volunteers put into this race. It was a mistake that anyone could have made, and at this point, I was in “just happy to still be standing” mode. In hindsight, the right way to go was more than clear, and we just missed it.
24.5 Miles, ROCKY POINT AID STATION, Round 2:
I was starting to get pretty tired. I was also closing in on the farthest I had ever run, which definitely excited me. I told my “crew” that the next time I saw them, I would have run beyond anything I had ever done. That alone was enough to carry me to that point. The runners I had been with again left before me. I ran alone for a while, but found them all again coming down a branched trail after they had apparently taken that wrong turn for about 200 meters. Still, even after catching up to them for a moment due to their error, they quickly moved out of sight again as I was starting to really slow down. I used Siri to text Stan and complain. I was starting to enter a dark mental place, and I wasn’t going to come out of it any time soon.
31.2 Miles, MOLLY HUGGER AID STATION, Round 2:
More like 32.5 miles, with all the wrong turns. That’s where my mind was at… negative. Questioning everything. Why was I doing this? Why did I spend so much money on lodging, gels, shoes, etc… Why do I even run? Maybe I’ll stop running after this. What else could I do with the time I “waste” on running? After 7 hours of running, I thought I had run enough for a lifetime in just the one day. I know people do 100 miles, and 240 miles, and whatever… I just want to be done. It was a tough spot. Christine texted me to ask what I needed at the next aid station or if I needed to change out anything; shoes, socks, shirt, etc… I couldn’t really concentrate enough to answer properly, so I just replied “I don’t know”. She delivered the last of my gels and Kind bars to me, which I did need.
34 Miles, FOX DEN AID STATION:
The last time I would see Christine and Abigail before the finish line. I definitely wanted to be done, but was close enough to know that I could finish at this point. Even if I had to crawl across the finish line. I was now in 8th place leaving Fox Den. I had spent a little too long at Molly Hugger, allowing a few runners to come in and then head back out before me, and then had been passed by a few more between these two aid stations as I continued to slow down. By the time I got to the water only station just a few miles later, 4 more runners had passed me, leaving me in 12th place.
However, I stopped briefly to get a few sips of just water, and felt a surge of excitement that I was almost done. I was almost able to stop running. That I would be able to take 10 days off, or 14 days, or maybe I would just never run again. It was all on the table in this moment, and all I needed to do was to finish the race so I could go home. From this stop, there was just over 2 miles to go. It felt so manageable. After all that I had done, 9 hours of running, it was the first time all day that I knew without a doubt that I would finish this race. That I would be able to say I had run and finished an ultra marathon. That felt good. I picked up my pace substantially. It was all pain going down hills, as my legs burned – front and back – with each step. I was able to catch and pass two runners in the last two miles, and that gave me even more confidence and steadiness as I moved on toward the finish line.
40.5 Miles, FINISH LINE!
Done. 10th place overall. As I came out of the woods and off the trail toward the finish line, I held myself as upright as I could and ran with confidence across. Nick standing there at the finish waiting to give me one of the best hugs I’ve ever had almost broke me down to tears. I didn’t know what to say or do for a minute. I walked over to a food table and tried to eat several different things. Nothing felt right. I couldn’t get any food down at all. It was time to go. Time to lay down in the car and lick my wounds as Christine drove us home.
Was I happy? Yes, I had done something amazing! Something I didn’t know was possible for me just earlier that morning. And no, I was in pain and wanted to lay down in my bed or my bath tub, which were both consequently two hours away. It was great to see Christine and Abigail, and their support (especially my wife’s) through the entire race was critical. I had friends and family cheering me on from all over the country. That was an amazing feeling, but in this exact moment, nothing made the pain go away.
As we arrived home, we had arranged for Chinese food to be delivered at almost the exact same time, and I was able to eat something and keep it down finally. Now, 10 days later, I reflect on the race and write it all down here to remember in the future. Will I do it again? Or maybe an even longer race? Probably.
– Matt
