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by Jeff Reed
Non-squeamish and therefore Short Version:
I went into JFK with low expectations. Being under trained for even a marathon distance event and being about 14 pounds heavier than last year I had little reason to expect a PR, but I got it. I got it, despite these and other things going against me. It was a tough, but exhilarating day. I bagged a PR for JFK with a 9:44:43 for 301st place overall.
I actually followed a sensible race plan, and it worked very well for me. I eased my way through the early miles, letting good friends and conversations head off into the distance in the name of self-discipline. Staying to my plan would help me avoid all the problems I had at last year’s JFK. Instead, I found a whole new set of problems to keep things from getting boring.
Long and Bloody Version:
It looked worse than it really was. Rounding a bend on the C&O Towpath downstream from Harper’s Ferry, into a long, long straight featuring a
Keep moving, Stay focussed, Keep pace even, Stay positive, Don’t let my mind wander. |
My feet were beginning to hurt a bit approaching 20 miles. The trail shoes that worked well on the Appalachian Trail were not the right shoes for a flat, smooth marathon. As I sat to change shoes at the aid station just past 20, Martha looked at me in horror. It seems the minor rubbing I felt on my thighs had worked itself into large bloody areas covering all of the insides of my thighs. I guess I had done well at blocking out those things that didn’t matter.
The option was there to let what I saw as just a little blood effect now I had a real one, but chose to plow forward, ignoring the obvious. Ignoring obvious pain and discomfort is one of the secrets of the whole ultra thing. Another large part is to make rational decisions when in such pain. It was just a little blood, so I carried on.
Anything I might have felt in my groin was quickly overshadowed by very intense knee pain. Not normally having any knee problems, I
It was just a little blood, so, I carried on. |
What can I say but, drugs are good. I tossed back five days worth of painkillers at the aid station and headed out. I heard ultra people talk about feeling good after a bad section of the race, so I trudged forward hoping for some relief. The groin got a little worse, but the pain was manageable.
The next 4 miles were bad. I kept pace with those around, but at a big
cost. I got through the mind games telling me to ease the pain by
stopping, or just letting everyone go. This brought back memories of
last year where a quick early pace fried me and the rest of the race
consisted of people streaming past me. I did not what this again, so I
was determined to move forward at the surrounding pack. I was either
going to make it not, but I was not going to give up before I
absolutely had to.
Somewhere after leaving the 27 mile aid station, the pain eased. I decided the worst of the pain was over and it hadn’t stopped me, so I needed to push a bit to get back into the game. My pace dropped and I began to stream past those who had caught me. Several commented on being surprised to see me again, as they could see the blood running down my legs and thought that was my problem.
From 27 until around 41 miles I ran strong, confident, and aggressive. I wouldn’t have thought my conditioning would allow me to do this, but I was on some kind of runners high. Logic and reason matter little when this happens, so you just blast along and enjoy it, because it will not last.
Once I got to the end of the canal section at 42 miles, I was spent. My hard pace had drained the energy in my body, but I still felt good. The overdose of drugs had knoted my stomach, keeping me from eating or drinking anything. Only 8 more miles, I could do that.
The last 8 miles are on a rolling country road, passing dairy farms, clover
fields, and long fieldstone fences. Not having the stuff to push the pace
anymore, I rolled along, enjoying the views. The day had turned cold, so
getting to the end and being warm was important. I ran when I could, and
did a weak power-walk when I couldn’t. I made relentless forward progress.
I did what I could, which wasn’t much.
Time meant little, as I was more pleased with how I did the race. Entering with big self-doubts, questionable conditioning, and minimal motivation, I had much more race than I deserved. I turned on the jets the last couple miles, relatively of course. Getting finished was a priority, but I just couldn’t do it fast enough. I finally finished in a 32 minute PR. The time is still slower than it should be, but I made it! I will take it for this year!
The aftermath was ugly. In the light I took my first good look at the damage between my legs. The blood spread halfway down my legs and fully front to back. There were a couple visible sections of the rubbing going a few layers deep. This was going to a painful shower!
Finding the medical people sitting down at a table, talking with each other, I broke in, pulled up the legs of my shorts, and asked, "Can someone take a look at this?" Nearly all of them recoiled at the sight of the blood. I had grossed out the paramedics! At a car crash they expect this, but not at a race.
They did nearly drop me though as they tried to come up with something to do to help me. Trying to clean the area, warm water was poured on my leg. The world started spinning and I was told to take deep breaths. Pouring water on it was NOT a good idea. It finally got cleaned out and looked much better afterwards. They wrapped the legs up to control the steady flow of ooze.
Today, I am walking a little stiff, I will quickly lose 5 toenails and my thighs still looked hamburgered. My knees hurt a little, but I did run 50 miles so I’ll deal with that. I took a real shower today and I am looking forward to testing my legs, and groin, at my traditional Alexandria 5 Mile Turkey Trot. I might be bow-legged, but I will be running the thing.
Great job to Scott, Vic, and Gilbert. They all finished in the low to mid 9s. I was getting reports on Scott and was within 10 minutes at one point, but he was able to keep his pace going better than I. JFK veteran, Laura Nye was there spectating, looking for her training partner out on the course somewhere. Thanks for listening. Sorry if I grossed anyone out, but there will be photos unpon request.
== Jeff Reed Arlington, VA http://www.oocities.org/madeads
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