Finding the Will to Finish: Beast of Burden Race Report

General Observation: These were the hardest race conditions I’ve faced and one of the hardest races I’ve ever completed. The mental struggles to continue when I was falling apart almost overtook me many times. I owe this finish to many people: my remarkable wife Alice, most awesome crew/pacer Carl, the aid-station volunteers at the turn-around, and above all Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who gives us strength through all of our most trying and unconceivable challenges!

Pre-Race: To save typing, my training leading up to this event was blogged below on February 9th.

Travel/Pre-Race Prep: I picked up Carl Albright, who co-RDs the Viaduct Trail Ultramarathon with me around 5:30 pm Friday night, and we ate dinner at his house (thanks Chris!) before heading out for the 5+ hour drive up to just outside of Buffalo where we were staying with Carl’s in-laws. The trip was very nice, traffic was light and the conversation was great. I talked so much I think I was starting to get hoarse. We arrived shortly after 11:00 pm, visited for a short while and hit the sack for some very solid sleep. I was up at 6:15 am, showered and enjoyed some awesome pancakes that our host was gracious enough to get up and prepare for us.

When I got up, the first thing I noticed was that it was snowing, quite hard, there was at least 2 inches of accumulation. Par for the course, I suppose, but I was getting apprehensive knowing it was going to be a difficult day. As we started driving to the start, I was relatively focused, but my car was sliding all over the place and my nerves were firing trying to get in race mode but also trying not to wreck the car. We got to the start, got my chip, bib, goodie bag and it seemed chaotic to get everything ready while listening to pre-race instructions. RD Sam Pasceri introduced the guest of honor, Valmir Nunes, who traveled all the way from Brazil and currently is the Badwater course record holder. Also in attendance was last year’s winner Richard Cook, whom I’ve had the pleasure of running my last few ultras with. I really enjoy observing and talking with these experienced runners, and try to learn as much from them as I can.

Before I knew it the time had come and we were on our way!

Race: The course is held along the towpath of the Erie canal and consists of four 12.5 mile out and back loops. I started out running in Drymax socks and Inov-8 Roclite 305s, a long sleeve compression shirt, cotton t-shirt, tech jacket and tech beanie. As soon as we got onto the towpath, I knew it was going to be a long day. The path had been slightly packed down from a couple of snowmobiles, but the wind, which would gust at 30+ mph at times, was drifting closed the packed down portions and we had to break a new path pretty much the whole first 6.5 miles to the first aid station. The snow was deep enough in spots to go over the top of our shoes, luckily my gaitors kept a good portion of it from packing inside my shoes, but I had wet feet within a couple of miles. Drymax socks are great, but in these conditions I don’t think anything would keep the dampness at bay. As I was running the first loop, I could feel my quads and ankles fatigue from the effort they were putting forth. I moved through the first aid station quickly just getting some water and a handful of skittles. The next portion of the out and back was packed a little more and I was able to find a better rhythm and run steady. As I was running, I took note of landmarks for later in the race when I would be needing to know where I was in relation to aid stations, and there were many bridges that crossed over the canal that we ran under. This knowledge works against me later in the race, I’ll get to that.

I reached the turn-around aid station feeling pretty good, and had worked up a sweat, so I ditched the cotton shirt for a tech shirt and swapped hats. I headed back out and was immediately hit with the strong headwind that cooled me down with all the sweat I generated earlier. I put my head down and pushed the best I could. I passed through the midway aid station, grabbed some more skittles and HEED, and tried to get the headwind half lap done as quickly as I could. I caught up with Richard Cook, ran a short while with him and passed him. Trying to get the lap done, instead of assessing the conditions and responding accordingly took more energy out of me than I should have been exerting, and when I came back to the start/finish line at 25 miles, I was definitely feeling the miles.

Carl was waiting for me, helped me get what I needed and encouraged me to pace myself and not fight the course. I think he could see that I was pushing my limits very early in the race. I tried to put his advice into action, and ran with Richard for a good portion of the next 6.5 miles. When I passed him, I commented about going out too hard, and he said, “I’m going to try and stay steady with the wind at my back and just do what I can coming back into the headwind.” Very sound advice and I repeated it to myself throughout the remainder of the race. Every time I was struggling, I would assess my effort and make sure I was staying relaxed and steady. I hit the turn-around, feeling like my legs were coming back to me and headed back into the wind with a little bit of confidence.

That was short lived and after I passed the midway aid station into the drifted “snowier” part of the course, I started struggling again. One nice thing was the wind seemed to have died down and there was a small path of packed snow to follow. A neat conversation happened right before the sun was setting. I came upon some young kids who were sleigh riding along the towpath and the following transpired with a young seven or eight year old boy.

Boy: “Hey are you running that race?”
Me: “Yeah” (expecting some smart remark)
Boy: “Cool. Pace yourself ok?”
Me: “Thanks”

More sound advice. The sun set and I was hurting. Not even halfway and my feet were sore, my quads aching and overall just felt blah. This was just the right time for a call from my wife (I had my cell phone with me). We talked as I was about a mile and a half from the start/finish line. I expressed my discomfort, and told her I didn’t know if I could do another 50 miles. She encouraged me to forget about my time or placement, slow it down and just concentrate on finishing. She didn’t want me to hurt myself, but she also didn’t want to have me come home without giving it my all. She knew how miserable I would be if I DNFd. She also knew I had the desire in me somewhere and said just what I needed to hear to boost my morale…I really love that woman!

I got to the start/finish and Carl was suited up and ready to pace me for the critical third loop. We spoke on the drive up about the importance of the third loop (thanks Dan Rose for some sound pre-race advice!), if I got through that, I would most likely finish. I changed into my La Sportiva Wildcats, dry socks, baby powdered my white, shriveled, painful feet, drank an Ensure, ate a pudding cup, drank some Mtn. Dew and we headed back out.

At this point, I felt pretty good. I was full of calories, warm, had relatively dry feet and some good company to run with. We were running a steady pace, with minimal walk breaks, and during this stretch I got a call from my good friend Chris Freet, offering very nice words of encouragement, and one more call from Alice to say good night. Carl and I got to the turn-around and things were looking pretty good. I drank another Ensure, some broth, ate some Hammer gel and we headed out for the return loop. I don’t know what it was about that return loop, but every time, it just seemed to zap my energy reserves. Carl kept talking to me, and reminding me to eat, take an endurolyte, drink, and offer other suggestions, but my brain was shutting down…hopefully I wasn’t too rude, but I just couldn’t find the energy to communicate.

When we stopped at the mid-way aid station, Valmir Nunes was sitting in a chair, on his last loop and he looked beat. I’m sure he was still in better shape than me, but he just looked exhausted and though he really doesn’t speak English, he uttered a very emphatic “Wow!” that was what he thought of this course. As Carl and I approached the start/finish line, I perked up a bit, hoping to capture some of the energy the final lap would hold for me, mentally at least.

I bid farewell to Carl, thanked him for getting me through the third lap and headed back out one more time. I initially was moving pretty good, but after about three miles the wheels came off. It had started snowing again, and the wind had picked up, again. The nice packed down path was drifting shut and I was out of positive thoughts. I kept plugging forward and remembered to keep eating either some energy bar or Hammer Gel, which were Carl’s last words when I left him (keep eating, keep taking endurolytes, keep drinking), but I was walking way more than I would have liked. I also started nodding off various points too, while walking. I would just feel myself start stumbling, then realize that my head dropped and was fighting to keep my eyes open. The real battle to finish was beginning with about twenty miles to go.

I kept telling myself to make it to the midway aid station, and I could sit down and regroup. I passed some other runners headed the other direction and asked one of them how far away I was, and he said, “probably about 30-40 minutes” I felt utterly devastated, I thought it was right around the bend, he could tell by the look on my face, patted my back and said to fight through it. Luckily it ended up being only about 15 minutes and I sat down and tried to figure out what I was going to do. I was spent and mentally couldn’t imagine how I was going to pull it back together again. I talked with another 100 miler, Bob, and the aid station volunteers and forced myself to get going again, but in a very short timeframe, I was nodding off again and looking for each and every bridge that I had landmarked earlier in the day. At one point I started having a weird hallucination that the towpath cut off to the right, which would have took me straight down into the canal. I even saw footprints, and figured it must be correct, but as I followed them, my feet sunk into the deeper snow, and thankfully it woke me up enough to realize my mistake! I also kept seeing the bridge I was looking for on the horizon, but would go and go and never find it…mentally I was just not with it.

Finally I found the bridge I was looking for (Pee road, not it’s real name, but some crafty vandals worked the sign to say that) and knew I was less than 2 miles from the turn around. It was then that I had to go to the bathroom, and though I had toilet paper with me, I didn’t think I had the energy for a trail side deposit, so I mustered all the energy I could to get to the aid station in time. Finally I made it to the cross-over bridge and one of the volunteers cheered me in saying “I can’t believe you’re still running” I let her know why I was running and demanded to know where the bathroom was.

After I took care of business, the volunteers were all over me, and I told them I didn’t know if I could go on. It was as close as I came to quitting, I really was out of options. They didn’t want to hear it. The girls sat me down, got me some soup and catered to my every need. Their encouragement and pep talk was amazing, they deserve so much of my appreciation for this finish, thank you 10x over for your support. As I was leaving (around 6:00 am) they said I looked way better then when I came in, and that I had it in the bag.

I got back on the course, passed Laurie Colon lead woman coming in, and encouraged her along. She was running an amazing race, very inspirational to watch as the day went on. In the last 45 minutes of darkness before sunrise, I was once again fighting sleep and stumbling all over the place, but mentally, I was coming out of the valley. I knew that with the sun, I would have renewed strength and I could finish. My muscle pain was on the back burner and I started moving faster than before. Laurie caught up with me just before the midway aid station, and I could tell she was hurting. She was grunting a lot and not talking, but had a look of fierce determination on her face. It was something to see, and she got me thinking that my struggles can’t be all that bad, look at how hard she is working, all I’m doing is fighting off sleep!

I left the aid station ahead of Laurie, and with the help of gel and adrenaline, I was running again! I tried to smile as much as I could and just enjoy this crazy type of sport I love so much. I passed another female 100 miler and she told me Carl was waiting for me. I thought she meant at the finish line, but nope, just a half mile up the course, here was Carl in jeans, flannel shirt and running shoes coming to pace me some more! Unreal that guy, I am so thankful to have had him along for this trip. We had some miles to go, but he was ready to run it on in with me…and run we did. There were a few walk breaks, but overall I ran most of the last six miles. With Carl by my side we crossed the finish line running strong for a time of 23:36:46. Sam announced that I was fourth overall, which amazes me with the amount of down time I lost on the last 25 mile lap.

Lessons learned from this race: Training in winter to prepare for a winter 100 miler is not an easy task, nor should it be taken lightly. I had a good base, but ultimately was under-trained for the expectations I had going into it. The weather conditions and course conditions compounded the lack of mileage I should have put in during January, and though I’m very happy with my result, I could have prepared better.

Be sure to thank the volunteers, crew and pacers. This should go without saying right? But without the support I had gotten throughout the race, usually when I needed it the most, from Alice, from Carl, and from the turn-around aid station volunteers, the likelihood of me not finishing was very high. Give credit and appreciation to those who are there to make your day a success, don’t ever take that for granted.

Kudos to Sam Pasceri for a very challenging race, that tested my resolve and pushed me to a higher level, both mentally and physically.

And most of all to God be the Glory, for it is He who makes all of this possible.

Thanks for taking the time to read this.

David Kennedy