Tunnel Hill 100 Race Recap – Part # 2

Picking up from part #1 here.

My daughter told me that she would see me in Karnak and sent me off for my second 50 mile loop. At this point in my race, I no longer think big picture. I break the course in to small chucks, and I focus on completing just those chucks. If I didn’t do this, likely I would have turnaround and walked back in to the Vienna aid station and called it day.

Coming out of the Vienna aid station, we cross a major road again. Earlier when I crossed this road, they had a guy managing the traffic for the runners. Now, I could see that he was doing something in the back of his car leaving the runners to fend for themselves while crossing the road. Another time, I probably would not have given it much thought, but at this time, I was tired and while I was moving, I was still no match for a speeding car. Fortunately, I guess for me, the drivers were on the lookout and let me cross. Still, I was none too happy that he wasn’t paying close attention. Tired, slow runners mixing with speeding traffic is a problem waiting to happen.

I look off in the distance, and I see the sun moving toward the horizon. Gauging by the angle of the sun, I figured that I had 2ish hours to get to Karnak before the sun totally set. Another runner pulled up beside me and asked if I wanted some company. We settled in to a nice pace which I guess we both felt was good for each of us. He tells me that his sciatica is flaring up and radiating down in to his hamstring. I also noticed how awkward this stride is becoming. He met his wife at the 5 mile aid station but catches back up to me on the far side. We go maybe two more miles, and he tells me that he needs to alter his strategy and take some walk breaks.

I wished him well and pushed on. The sun was getting close to setting, and I finally come in to view of the Karnak aid station. They have huge flood light so I see it a good distance away.

My daughter has my shoes, tights, and Camel Bak ready. I switched to a long sleeve pull over my shirt sleeve shirt, my tights, and Clayton. She offered my head lamp which I was now going to need but my hands were full of food. I then gestured toward my Camel Bak, and she instantly understood. She pushed the head lamp down into an extra compartment on my Camel Bak.

My daughter is a quick study. I had realized over the course of the day that she was meeting me early in the aid station zones, switching out my gear, loading me up with food, listening to what I needed, and sending me on way. I never had to stop moving.

I finished eating on my way out of the aid station toward the Wetlands turnaround. Entering the Wetlands section, the course opens in to what looks like a huge tall, brown, grassy area. Off in to the distance, the sun is setting to produce one of the prettiest orange glowing sunsets that I have ever seen along the horizon. Luck must have been on myside to experience it.

No one appeared to be manning the Wetlands aid station, I circled the cone and headed back to Karnak. I met this woman not too far behind me. I later learned that she was one of the lead woman in the race. She passed me on the way back to Karnak. Then, I passed the guy that been running with out of the Vienna aid station. I guess that he passed me back while I was changing clothes.

All the way back to Karnak, I ran without putting on my head lamp. The moon was pretty full, and the grayness of the trail in the moon light showed the way. My only issue was when meeting other runners wearing a head lamp. They were so bright, and when we met, their lights shined right in to my eyes temporarily blinding me.

I met my daughter again at Karnak, and she immediately started asking about my head lamp. I told nothing was wrong, I was just enjoying a moon light run.

Pushing out of Karnak was hard. My legs struggled to return to running after walking through the aid station. I felt that it took a mile before they felt good again.

I put on my head lamp, and I took stock of my condition. I was 66 miles in to my 100 miler which left 34 miles to go. That’s just a little more than 50k of running, and I have done a bunch of 50ks this year – 4 in fact. Of course, in none of them did I run 66 miles beforehand.

I crossed through the midway point. I was now at 71 miles. I had another five miles to go, and I would have basically run 3 back to back to back marathon. I passed through the tunnel on this section of the course, and I had only had a few more miles to the Vienna aid station.

This time when I came up the road crossing no one was monitoring the road crossing. However, I was so tired that I didn’t really care. I pushed across it and in to the aid station.

My daughter was in full pit crew support now. I never stopped moving which at this point was a very good thing. I crossed under the banner to mark 76 miles in 12 hours and 44 minutes.

My confidence was growing at this point. I was mentally running the numbers in head. If I ran these last 24 miles in 5 hours, 6 hours, 7 hours, or 8 hours short of a totally collapse over this final stretch of the race, I was going to finish. Still, I had a long climb to the Tunnel Hill aid station. This time, I would be climbing the dark. Running in the dark can be a both a blessing and curse. One hand, the darkness makes me focus on the area right in front. Plus, I cannot really see the hill that I am climbing. On the other hand, time and distance seem to take longer to cover.

I passed through the aid station at 79 miles. Mentally, I noted I was starting the major portion of the climb now. On the bright side, I only had 21 miles to run. Funny, how one’s thinking changes when the mind finally comprehends what 79 mile of running is like.

During the day, I had noted the numerous bridge crossings so this helped orientate me to my progress. 

Then, there was the night critters. Several deer suddenly sprang up and ran across the trail. A few other times, I had dogs in the distance. Both unsettled my stomach more than anything that I had eaten all day.

I crossed this one long bridge which I remember to be only a few miles from the Tunnel Hill aid station. Then, I crossed the road by these homes, and I knew that I was roughly with in a ½ mile of the tunnel.

Unlike during the day, there was no bright light at the far end of the tunnel this time. Only the light produced by head lamp. I only realized that I was passed the exit when I noticed the still dripping icicles hanging from the rocks.

Unlike the other aid stations, the Tunnel Hill aid station is bathed in darkness. I spotted my daughter by the Christmas light draped around our wagon. Yes, I tried to think of everything so we could find each other at each aid station.

As we walked through the aid station, I told her that I only wanted a ½ liter of Tailwind for the return trip back to Vienna and one gui. I wanted my pack to weigh as little as possible.

Leaving the aid station for the little 4 mile out and back, it was all that I could do to resume running. My legs were beyond tired.

I met several runners on the way out to the turnaround and lots of runners on the way back. However, I didn’t know where they were in relationship to the overall distance to me. Everyone was blended together. For all I knew they could be 50 milers mixed in to them. We all wore the same still of bibs.

Entering the Tunnel Hill aid station for the final time, I was now 90 miles away from goal. I knew that the majority of this race was downhill. Nothing was going to stop me now.

My daughter handed me a Camel Bak. Gauging by the weight, I would say that she had it just about right. She swapped out my head lamp and sent me off one final time. I looked back and told her that I would see her in a couple of hours in Vienna.

This time, when I pushed my legs to return to running, I promised myself that I would not stop until I cross the finish the finish line. If stopped again, there was a very good chance that I would never get started again.

Passing through the tunnel for the final time, I pushed forward in to the downhill section. By now, the full moon was directly overhead. The moonlight illuminated the trail so well that I actually turned off my head lamp. The quietness of the night was only interrupted by the occasional passing runner or the runner that I was catching. I did switch my head lamp on while crossing the bridges. Some of the bridges were smooth concrete while others had wood planks. The wood planks were not always the smoothest.

I crossed the longest bridge so I knew was about 93 miles. I had just 7 miles to run. With this section being downhill, I was a little worried that one of my hamstrings might balk at the extra strain. After all, I was running a bit faster than I probably should have been. There is an old saying about “smelling the barn”. I was clearly starting to smell the barn.

With about 4 miles left, I was coming up on this runner. When I got within about 10 yards of him, he started running again. I was still closing on him, and I moved over to the other lane to pass. When I did, he immediately cross lanes and got right on my heels. Oh, did this irritate me. If he wanted to follow me or even run beside me, I am fine with it. I have already run nearly 96 miles, and I was not having any of this. Rather than say anything, I did something even worse. I ask my tired legs to pick up the pace. To my surprise, they responded. Maybe it was the “smell of the barn” or maybe it was just the combination of the “fatigue and the frustration of having some on my heels” they moved faster. I kept wondering if this might come back to bite me. 

I flew through the aid station at 97 miles. I could still hear his footsteps. At 98 miles, I could barely hear his footsteps. By 99 miles, his head lamp had faded back.

However, I was now committed to this pace, and I wasn’t going to let up unless my hamstrings forced me to let up.

I rounded the last curve, and the lights of the Vienna aid station came in to view. Never have I been so happy to see a finish line.

I crossed the finish in 17 hours 5 minutes and 33 seconds. I had run the first 50 miles in 7 hours and 48 minutes. I had run the last 50 miles in 9 hours and 17 minutes. I didn’t even realize that I was 11 overall until after the race when my daughter told me. She told me that I had been hovering in the mid 20 overall all day but after the darkness settled over the race that I had been steadily moving up.

When I crossed the finish line, I stopped and put my hand on the trailer next it. Suddenly, the strong, fluid running legs that I had shown over those last miles were suddenly weak and shaky. The race director congratulates me, hands me my race finisher coat and my sub 20 hours belt buckle. I gave it the kiss that I had been thinking about for months. It was one of hardest earned awards that I have ever received. It is going to have a special place on my wall.

My daughter wrapped me in a blanket and handed me a water bottle. The cold water tasted awesome. We went over and set down for a few minutes. When I tried to stand again, my legs was still shaky. I felt really lightheaded. Eventually, we agreed that it was a good idea for her to get the car, drive around, and pick me up. When she pulled up, I literally pushed off what I was leaning against and toward the passenger side door. To someone watching, I must have appeared to be pouring myself in to the car.

The walk from car to the hotel room was pretty painful. Not to mention the fact that my legs hurt throughout the rest of the night and in to the next day. I finally took a couple of ibuprofen to soften the pain and let me at least rest.

To those that are curious about my running streak, yes, it continues. Because I did not run a full mile on Sunday during the race (the race started at 7 AM and I finished 5 minutes after mid night), some 8 hours later, I took my battered and broken body out for a mere two miles. They hurt but Ibuprofen does wonders. The rest of the day, however, I did not do much of anything else.

Running a 100 miles is incredibly hard, and when I signed up for this race, I was not even certain that I could complete it. I just hoped that I could but I had no way to know for sure. I simply had no yard stick to measure myself by. I read what others said and learned from their suggestions. Somehow, I merged what I learned from others with what I knew, and this was result.

I count myself super lucky here. I had a fantastic crew, great weather, good nutrition, and my body held up for the duration of the race. If the stars could have aligned, they did on this day for me.

Major kudos to my daughter for her help. Having her support made a huge difference, and I repeatedly told her so.

Thinking back now, my best decision during the race was changing shoes and wearing my tights over the last 40 miles. They kept the chill of the air away from my legs which really helped. Otherwise, I think my legs would have really tightened up, and I would have really slowed down.

Resting my legs is the only thing on my agenda for a while.   

Kickin’ up trail dust,

The Cool Down Runner