[Buzzie]

<p><strong>Run Woodstock – Hallucination 100</strong></p>
<p>24 September 2010</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Backstory</strong></p>
<p>Entered this race on a bit of a whim following a summer of crappy training, injuries, and DNFs. My goal – perhaps even further misery and self-pity to put a cap on a crummy season.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After Burning River 100, I made the commitment to full-time barefoot / minimalist running – something I’d been working on for the preceding 10 months. My plan for Woodstock was to start in VFF Treks and go to a more traditional shoe if needed as the race progressed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A week before Woodstock, I was just past mile 8 in a road half marathon when something in my left foot snapped. Unable to walk, I managed to find the one square inch of usable foot and hobble it in. Over the course of the week, I rested the foot and sought help from my ART therapist. By Friday morning (race morning), the foot was a little bit better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I had a decision to make…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Could I run in FiveFingers?</p>
<p>Uh… no!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Could I run in my old trail shoes – untouched since Burning River eight weeks prior and still caked with mud?<br>
Well, I managed to eke out a mile around my neighborhood in relative comfort. (The leverage provided by traditional shoes made it possible for me to run at all.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>How about the new-in-box x-country flats I’d set aside to evaluate for winter running?<br>
One quarter-mile lap around the block – they felt pretty good.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Shoes are tools that can enable me to reach certain goals… Let’s do it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>About Run Woodstock</strong></p>
<p>Run Woodstock is a weekend long festival of trail racing, camping, and live music. There are races going off at all hours of the day and night – distances ranging from 5k up to 100mi.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The 100mi and 100k runners start together at 4:00pm Friday afternoon. An interesting start time… we’re “fresh” for the darkest hours, but tired from having already put in a full day prior to the race.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The 100mi course is 6 loops of 16.67 miles, returning each time to the start/finish tent in the Hell Creek Ranch campground. The 100k runners share this course, with 3 loops plus a modified final loop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Our field is small – 72 100-milers and maybe 12 100k runners.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Loop 1: Miles 0 – 16.7</strong></p>
<p>I’m at the start in sparkly white Saucony Kilkennys, looking very out of place among the seasoned ultra runners. Who runs trails in white shoes? Nobody! For long.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>My goal – get the lay of the land and finish the first loop before nightfall.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What am I doing running at 4pm? I’m so confused! It takes more than the usual two miles to adjust to running and find a groove. My foot feels OK with a slightly altered stride – certainly not my best barefoot form!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I fall in with three other guys and wind up leading our pack. They declare my pace excellent – I must be going too fast.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Loop 2: Miles 16.7 – 33.4</strong></p>
<p>In to the start/finish tent just in time for sunset, but a bit ahead of my planned conservative pace. I don’t have to remember to take my lights, I’ve been wearing them from the start – just in case. They’re calling runners to the start for the 5k – oh crap!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Back on the trail I sense thundering hooves behind me… I pick up my pace and hug the right edge of the trail – fortunately, their turn-off isn’t too far ahead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The skies are clearing and the moon is nearly full. I run without lights down a section of rail trail. I catch up to a small group of guys and decide to take a walk break… Heh, I’m walking as fast as they’re running – very cool.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After the rail trail, I’m on my own for the rest of the loop. The pack has thinned. We exchange greetings in passing on the two-way section of dirt road linking two single-track loops.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Loop 3: Miles 33.4 – 50</strong></p>
<p>I’m still running a bit ahead of pace, but feeling OK about it – I don’t see how I could comfortably go any slower.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>My world has been reduced to a 6-foot circle of light – just me, the rocks just in front of my feet, and the eerie shadows of weeds and wildflowers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s a magical thing to run through the woods at night.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I love the ease with which I’m running the downhills… that barefooting is paying off. I feel like a dancing puppet on the end of a stick.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I try to recall the upcoming features on the trail… Downhill around the island, steep climb to the left, mud pit. Nope. I feel like the Orbitz guy – bicycle, unrealistic splash, embarrassingly transparent. Annoying.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Loop 4: Miles 50 – 66.7</strong></p>
<p>Approaching the 4-mile aid station, I see runners sitting off to the side of the trail. I know these folks – Dick and his pacer, Marit. Dick’s having issues with rapid heart rate – they’ll be returning to the aid station to drop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>My feet are tired of being stepped on. And I’m feeling some tweaking in my Achilles. I’ve been able to relax away other twinges and pains, but the miles are taking their toll.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A voice calls out in the darkness at the 8-mile aid station – Last Place (barefoot) Jason! He’s here to help his friend Jesse in the 50-mile race set to start at 6:30am. It’s good to see a familiar and friendly face. I explain about the shoes… tools and all that. I’m going to change into the trail runners after this loop – the extra cushion might be welcome and the added heel lift could take some strain off the Achilles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I remember seeing a bench tucked into the woods. When I find it, I will sit for a minute. One minute.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I’m starting to have trouble regulating my temperature… cold, no hot, no cold, no hot. All in all, it’s better to just leave the shirt off and continue in my tank top.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sun’s coming up. Freeway cars and trucks. I’m actually going to be out here, still moving, to experience the lift everyone talks about!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Where is that bench?</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Loop 5: Miles 66.7 – 83.4</strong></p>
<p>Big change at the start/finish aid station. Timing is perfect to drop all of my lights and extra batteries. And, I change out of the flats and into the cushy old trail shoes. This requires cutting off and reinstalling the timing chip – amazingly, I’m still dexterous enough to do this. I continue on with my original socks – my feet are happy, why change?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The campground is waking up and the marathoners and halfs are getting ready to go as I sip a bit of soup. The announcer tells them to show mercy to the poor souls who have been out there running all night. I’m just hoping I don’t piss too many of them off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Food is not tasting so good. I’m tired of sweet. The sandwiches are too dry – I spit them out along the trail.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sun is definitely a lift. I’m enjoying seeing the trail again – it’s as if for the first time. But, this is short-lived, as I realize that I still have to go around another time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>OK – when I get to that bench, I will sit for a minute. One minute. I must have missed it last time, in the dark.</p>
<p>The right shankle kicks in. Tendons and retinaculum irritated by the many miles. That’s OK – at least it’s not mile 33 or 50. No wheels aren’t coming off nothing!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Amazingly, I’m still nimble on the downhills. WTF? Thank you barefoot running!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is no bench. Dejected. There is a small section of log to sit/lean on by the side of the road. This will be my one minute.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I've slowed down enough that my body is starting to get rid of excess water. That is, I'm peeing - somewhat frequently. Fortunately, we're in the woods and I'm wearing shorts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I’m queasy. I’m exhausted. I’m in tears. But, I’m moving forward. I still have to go around again. A ginger chew… that’s what I need. I’m nearing the start/finish… there are no ginger chews in my bag. Why didn’t I pack the ginger chews? I thought about packing the ginger chews. But, no – I don’t get queasy. I’ve never gotten queasy. No ginger chews. I’m queasy. I’m exhausted. I’m in tears. There is nothing that can make things better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A ginger chew!! A flippin’ fully-wrapped ginger chew – right in the middle of the trail! Ginger chew from heaven! I’m not hallucinating.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A gaggle of happy people approach in the opposite direction – they’re hiking to a restaurant for lunch. I cry, I’m so happy to see them. How nice it must be to be so happy, hiking to lunch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But, I have my ginger chew!</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Loop 6: Miles 83.4 – 100</strong></p>
<p>I’m still eating the ginger chew when I hit the start/finish. No food, yet – after I visit my bag.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Upon hearing my story, another runner retrieves some ginger non-chews from her bag for me. Bless you!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I meet up with the ginger runner and her pacer out on the rail trail. She’s dropping to 100k. I hope this is her last loop. She tells me how she finished Burning River, but sent back her buckle after realizing that she’d missed a 3-mile loop. Heartbreaking!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The company is nice, I feel like running. So, I do. Off down the rail trail.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soon, I’m back to walking and my short-time companions are behind me. I know there likely isn’t much more running in my immediate future. Still, the wheels are attached – I’m just feeling like crap and my shankle has me hobbled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I see other runners on the two-way stretches. Mostly, they all look worse than I feel. And, amazingly, a bunch of them are 50-milers. Sadly, this makes me feel better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s all walking, but I’m still holding 20-minute pace. That’s a nice stroll – too bad it doesn’t feel like one.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And, astonishingly yet – the downhills are still a treat. I’m still nimble and light. My quads aren’t fried. WTH?!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Every time I see people, I cry. I'm so happy to see...anyone. It's a lonely, lonely course - and this is from someone who does very well on her own.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'm peeing even more. This has its upside... My fingers are looking a bit less like sausages. And, every time I pull my shorts aside, a runner or biker comes by - so, I'm seeing people. Sure, I apologize rather than saying hello; but, it's something.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I sit for a moment at each aid station. With 1.5 miles or so to go, I come to a picnic table. Even with such a short distance remaining, I’m feeling uninspired. So, I lie down on the bench and put my feet up – instant relief. One minute.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, I walk into the campground. I’m amazed at my lack of inspiration. Oh, come on! Are you really going to walk this in?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I round the bend to the straightaway into the finish. This time, I get to take the chute on the right, not the detour into the tent. Some campers look up from their fires and start to cheer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, I’m running. This is it. <strong>25 hours, 19 minutes, and 43.9 seconds. 100 miles</strong>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Epilogue</strong></p>
<p>So, what made this one possible?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I DNFed my first two attempts at 100 miles - Umstead (in March) and Burning River (in July). I had a dismal season of training and racing, although with more cross-training than ever. (Is it still cross-training, if it winds up being your only training?)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>My spirits, confidence, and enthusiasm could not have been lower going into this race. I was only partially committed - didn't really mention it to anyone and didn't do any planning for it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As far as I can tell, the successful finish came from:</p>
<ul><li style="margin-left:30pt;">The countless lessons learned from a season of disappointment.</li>
<li style="margin-left:30pt;">The benefits of barefoot (truly barefoot) running.</li>
</ul><p> </p>
<p>Of course, there are probably a bunch of other contributing factors - but, who can isolate them?!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The barefoot running benefits made themselves known in three ways.</p>
<ul><li style="margin-left:30pt;">The added strength in my feet, calves, and who-knows where else, helped lighten the load on other muscles.</li>
<li style="margin-left:30pt;">The form, although more difficult to maintain in shoes and with my injured foot, helped keep knee and other problems away. I also think the form helped protect me from blisters - my feet just weren't sliding and jamming in my shoes the way they used to. (The only casualty - and barely a blip on the radar - was one underlapping pinky toe.)</li>
<li style="margin-left:30pt;">The ability to relax (and reevaluate form) enabled me to nip issues in the bud - as a twinge of pain or tightness arose, I was able to just think the problem away. Additionally, for the entire 100 miles, I was able to relax and take every descent with ease - no fried quads, no pussy-footing. I was absolutely amazed that - even when I was barely moving - I was able to relax into and roll through every last downhill.</li>
</ul><p> </p>
<p>This race was both more difficult and easier than my DNFs. I feel better about my DNFs coming out of this race.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Umstead - I've learned things that would have kept me going for at least one more loop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Burning River - I really don't think I could have done any better than I did, considering the amount of pain I was in and how early it came on. I limped a long way on a very flat tire. (I also timed out, so continuing was not an option.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I have a number of ultras (long marathons and 50Ks) planned in the upcoming months. My next 100 isn't until Umstead in early April - unless I find something else to do. I'm looking forward to all of it.</p>

 

[SportiGrl]

<p>yay, buzzie!!!!</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>100 miles and still smiling!</p>

 

[Buzzie]

<p>Thanks Kim!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'm not so sure about that smile, but... it's coming back.</p>
<p>Thinking about a walk in the woods tomorrow - no running until I'm able to run barefoot again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hope things are looking up for you - been awfully quiet. <img alt="" src="http://files.kickrunners.com/smilies/dontknow.gif" title=""></p>
<p>Two weeks out. Anything can happen. And, no matter how it goes, there's lots to be learned (and gained)!</p>

 

[runNYtrails]

<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><img alt="" src="http://files.kickrunners.com/smilies/icon_cheers.gif" title="">   <span style="color:rgb(128,0,0);"><span style="font-size:14px;">Great, great run <strong>Buzzie</strong> !!  So happy for You ! Congrats !   Also a very nice, entertaining, informative and <em>inspiring</em> write up. You got it all girl !</span></span></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>

 

[SportiGrl]

<p><br><br>
In highschool my coach let us try out most events we wanted to try at least once in the season ... except hurdles ... and I always thought it'd be fun to try but he didn't want to risk his crackteam of distance runners getting injured 'having fun'  ...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>well ... this year I've gotten a lot of hurdles ... so, I guess the old saying is true, be careful what you ask for!  <img alt="wink.gif" class="bbcode_smiley" src="http://files.kickrunners.com/smilies//wink.gif"></p>
<p> </p>
<p>plans are still on for hitting the starting line for the Oilcreek 100k  ... and pretty sure I'll make it to the finish  ... everything else is up in the air ... I've been uber busy taking a crash course in bartending/mixology and am now very sick with my first sinus cold of the season  ... so running hasn't been winning many daily battles for my time  ...</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>anyways ... so happy for you in getting a FINISH in a 100 miler!!!!    very, very cool!</p>
<div class="quote-container"><span>Quote:</span>
<div class="quote-block">Originally Posted by <strong>Buzzie</strong> <a href="/forum/thread/70429/rr-run-woodstock-hallucination-100#post_1950778"><img alt="View Post" class="inlineimg" src="/img/forum/go_quote.gif" style="border-bottom:0px solid;border-left:0px solid;border-top:0px solid;border-right:0px solid;"></a><br><br><p>Thanks Kim!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'm not so sure about that smile, but... it's coming back.</p>
<p>Thinking about a walk in the woods tomorrow - no running until I'm able to run barefoot again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hope things are looking up for you - been awfully quiet. <img alt="" src="http://files.kickrunners.com/smilies/dontknow.gif" title=""></p>
<p>Two weeks out. Anything can happen. And, no matter how it goes, there's lots to be learned (and gained)!</p>
</div>
</div>
<br><br>

 

[RSISCOE]

<p>Great report Buzzie and a awesome race!! Every time  we crossed paths you always looked strong. Even with a bad foot you kicked my ass. I saw that ginger candy on the trail and almost picked it up. Glad i didn't.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> Bob</p>

 

[merigayle]

<p>congrats! what a great report. too funny about the ginger chew! Looking forward to seeing you are umstead <img alt="smile.gif" class="bbcode_smiley" src="http://files.kickrunners.com/smilies//smile.gif"> oh, and i had the same pee thing happen at the DE100 a couple weeks ago, lol</p>

 

[crunningman]

<p>Congrats on your finish <em>Buzzie!</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>I trained on the Poto last year quite a bit.  It is a fun, fun place to run in my opinion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You did yourself really well for running it multiple times.  Recover quickly!  <img alt="" src="http://files.kickrunners.com/smilies/biggrin.gif" style="width:16px;height:16px;" title=""></p>
<p> </p>
<hr class="bbcode_rule"><p><a href="http://www.trailfixation.blogspot.com" target="_blank"><strong><em>My Blog</em></strong></a></p>

 

[Buzzie]

<p>Bob - I am SO glad you didn't pick up that ginger chew!! Now I know... must. keep. ahead. of. bob.</p>
<p>(Of course, I will NEVER be caught again without a ginger chew!)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thanks for the kind words, everyone. I really enjoyed the course - a pleasant challenge, nothing particularly nasty (which is nice, when you have to do it more than once). And, I'm really looking forward to Umstead - such a fun and well-run race!</p>

 

[lkschiller]

<p>Congrats Buzzie!  Nice report.</p>

 

[Tahaseat]

<p>A litttle late but nice report.  3rd attempt within a year to accomplish your first is pretty extreme in my books and with a broken foot to boot.  Good luck and hope the healing process is coming along. Hope to see you on the trails.</p>