Day 3,833 —The Farmdale Race Part 2: Finally done with the Write-up! —

It was so nice to be off today, so I could focus on the video and the write-up of the race. I ran a couple of miles this morning before I went to pick up my daughter, and then we watched Frozen together and ate popcorn.

I was hoping to post everything together sooner, but now it is almost 9, and I am most likely still one edit away from posting the video, but I think it is good; even though, I didn’t finish the race. I am glad I was able to turn something out of this experience, and I am glad this week I was recovered and able to enjoy running in the cold.

Part Two

The Fifth lap, 40–50 miles

I didn’t wait that long to start running again between these loops because I thought I had finally started feeling a little better. I almost had some caffeine, but I figured having that on my empty stomach, which already felt bad, was not a good idea, and I was getting so tired.

I had to slow down and walk now, dealing with my stomach bothering me so much that I felt like I needed to use the bathroom the whole time and still stopping to dry heave on occasion. But I hadn’t been sick yet, so that was positive.

I walked this entire lap almost, running when I could, but it took me 4 hours to go for 10 miles, so between 2–3 miles per hour. My moving time was a little faster, but when you include stoppage time for aid stations, I took 4 hours to finish the fifth lap, and it was miserable.

The first thing my dad said to me when I got back was that he was wondering if I had finished two laps because I took so long, which didn’t make me feel better about it. Just realized how much I had been slowing down because I was trying not to even look at my watch at this point.

I heard this guy who was a lawyer talking so loudly running up behind me when I was about to the 5.8 mile aid station between the loops. It is on the top of a hill, so it is a bit of a walk, and I was moving steady but slow. This guy was loud and telling a story that sounded like something you might hear in an AA meeting. I wondered if maybe he was a sponsor because he didn’t seem like an ultra-runner.

When he got to the aid station, the lawyer pacer looked at the subway and said “Protein?” and ate one of the subway sandwiches that were there. I gave him a look because I couldn’t believe a pacer would take that kind of food from the racers. The aid workers heated a plain tortilla for me to eat, and it was okay, but I didn’t have more than a mouthful.

When I saw him walking to his car as I finished this lap, he gave me a first bump and said something encouraging like “Good job.” I gave him a dirty look, he probably was wondering what he did to offend me, and I cannot say that it was any more egregious than a lot of things people have done. It sounded like he was trying to do something nice for someone by pacing, but I couldn’t see anything positive about this guy at this moment, but I was still trying.

Mile 50 Stop

I was miserable and went to the aid worker and said, “Anything without meat or cheese?”

It always takes me a while to build up the courage to start telling the aid workers I don’t want meat or cheese because I always get some looks, “What, no meat or cheese?!” Or, I get some guys who think eating meat makes them manly who say things, but I look right back at them, and say, “Yeah, I don’t eat eggs, or honey either.” Daring, them to say something negative, but they usually settle for more subtle digs. But, this woman, not thrown at all, showed me where a bean burrito was I could eat, so went to sit down and took a bite. It was okay, but I couldn’t eat anymore and just sat there for 20 minutes having drinks but not feeling much of a change.

My dad got me some Liquid IV to try as my hydration option, but it was so sweet I could not drink it at all. All the same, it was awesome of my dad to get it, but I was past the point where most things would have any effect.

Mile 50-60

It didn’t help that my watch was telling me I was a few miles farther than I thought I was. Maybe just walking back and forth or sometimes. I see it tick along slowly when I am hanging out at an aid station, so I did not trust those added miles. If anything, they made it a lot more difficult to keep track of how far to the next aid station.

Yet, I was wearing my headlamp now, and off I went for another 10 miles. It wasn’t long before I was walking slow and feeling like as soon as I tried to run, I would start to sweat. This felt insane to me because my heart rate was in the 90s and I didn’t feel tired physically, just sleepy and sick, so I continued to walk. I averaged around 20-minute miles during this 10-mile loop, which means it took me almost 4 hours to complete 10 miles.  

I remembered I had met two women doing the 30-mile run at the end of the last lap. They had told me excitedly that they had signed up for the Shawnee Hill recently to do the 50K. I excitedly told them about my experience on that run for the next half mile or so. It seems so far off to me to start thinking about that run again, but everybody trains differently. I still have to figure out my calendar for next year.

As I slowly started to get closer to the end of lap 6, I got sick 3 to 5 times, trying to resist the strong desire to lay down on the ground and close my eyes.

I kept walking and walking until I finally made it back to the start, but not without having to stop again multiple times on the way. I tried to drag myself one step at a time towards the start/finish.

I ignored the aid station. I still had water left, but I didn’t want to drink it. I noticed that all the water was yellow when I poured some out in a cup, which made me wonder if the water was bothering me too.

I went towards where my dad was, and I told him I needed to just lie down for a while. He was still supportive but knew what I had been dealing with. I was asleep for an hour and at that point, I still wasn’t thirsty. I kept thinking about the time after the Go St. Louis and how long it took me to get hydrated again after what happened. I had two IVs but still felt sick. I still felt sick when I got home. I couldn’t drink water until hours later. The only thing that helped was time. I figured I could probably do some more. It also seemed like a good idea to focus on recovering and come back to fight again on a different day.

So, my dad and I went to the car and drove to the Marriott in East Peoria. If my dad wasn’t there, I don’t know if I would have had the courage to say the words, “I am quitting.”