meh. - Marathon of Endless Hell - Sunday, December 8th, 2019

Marathons are stupid.

Scenic Upper James Street and the snow-covered ball field

The pre-race email said the path around the ball diamond at Mount Hope Park was free of snow, which eliminated my big fear about hours of splashing along through slush...if it could be trusted.

Do these shady f'ers look trustworthy to you?

It was supposed to be sunny and get up to 6c, so decisions were made.

Sun's out - guns out

The usual pre-race things happened: oatmeal, caffeination, absurd amounts of kinesiology tape, Tanker attempting to set land speed records for little blue hatchbacks, and trepidation. Loads of sun-warmed ice and icicles came crashing down off the gazebo and trees around the park as the wind came howling across an open field beside the actual park.

You can see broken shards of ice sitting to the left (leeward side) of the gazebo

I flailed my limbs, I said hello to friends (almost all of whom made some sort of remark about being cold just looking at me), and then we gathered around for the awards ceremony...which took place a few minutes before the race.

Bronze for the person with the longest name (and least vowels in case of a tie);
Silver to the oldest person in the race;
Gold to the shortest person in the race.

I was cold enough that I was considering running my first lap in my down jacket, and kept it on while we all gathered by the bleachers. I had just decided to ditch the jacket after all when the "shotgun start" went off.

By which I mean the instigators of this madness shotgunned a beverage - that may or may not have been legal to consume in a public park - each
(Photo by Stacy McMillan)

Trying to re-zip my jacket off the start

We started clockwise, and I actually felt pretty good for the first few laps: Heather was sweet enough to take my jacket after the first so I didn't have to stop, and I spent awhile just clicking off loops at what felt like quite an easy, sustainable pace. I'd run twice the day before (because, well...100 in 100), so I was surprised to see some relatively speedy bits happening in my GPS watch's display...and wondered if it would bite me in the arse later on.

The course was not just a basic ball diamond shape - there were some extra curves to it, though no particularly sharp turns to speak of. The pavement was free of snow (but not dog poo, because people suck), but had one icy stretch of about 4 metres as you approached the gazebo in the clockwise direction.

This began to melt under the sun and passage of runners' feet, but was solid ice for the first hour or so.
This allowed Byron to pull off the only flat-ground glissade I've ever witnessed

Our little slice of hell.

Jacket gone but sweater still zipped up tight.

The only other obstacles on the path were a tiny hump - maybe 6" high, more of a frost heave than anything else - on the side closest to Upper James Street. The pavement was ever so slightly side-sloped toward the inside, but other than that it was dead flat.

I'm probably on top of the little hump here

Heading toward the unnecessary chicane

The nutrition plan was going to be really simple for this, in the absence of any climbs or technical sections to walk - I took a slurp of EFS liquid shot every half hour, starting at 30mins, by pausing briefly at the gazebo where I had the UltraCooler™ set up. I also starting taking in one S!cap per hour at 30mins, though I didn't think I was going to lose that much sodium to sweat in the cold wind.

Open field on the windward side, with plenty of snow to add extra frostiness

Round and round and round we went, with my first 18 laps passing before a change of direction around 48mins in. We turned around via the expedient of a U-turn at the bleachers where the coolers full of water and apparently very strong Tang were set up, then tried the whole business counter-clockwise for awhile. The outside of my right knee twinged a bit at the change, but I was still rolling along pretty well. The sun had warmed things up a bit so I was able to zip down the collar of my sweater, and it seemed like the wind might be easing a little.

Sharing a lap with Patty, who ran a bandit 5k on the course

A few times while running through the treed section of the course I'd see a chunk of ice blow off a branch and shatter on the path ahead of me. It was not a particularly welcome realization that if it had happened a second or two later I'd have been hit by a hard projectile, so I tried not to think too much about it. Just keep running, idiot.

The treed section

The coating of ice on the trees was quite impressive

Emerging from the trees - the left fork would take you off course, but directly toward a fortunately-placed portajohn.
There was a shoe inexplicably floating sole-up in said portajohn when we arrived.
This inspired questions I wasn't sure I wanted answered.

Onward toward the gazebo
Just ignore that this is still going clockwise - I only took my phone/camera out for a couple of laps later in the day.

I was keeping track of laps via a manual counter stuck in my skirt pocket, but this had its limitations - it relied not only on me remembering to do so (and we all know I'm kind of a dip, especially while running), but also the danged thing registering the lap each time I tried to click it. Neither of these was terribly reliable. Fortunately I was also keeping track of laps in my head, and periodically checking to see if my counter was in agreement.

It was easy at first to have a visual cue of "when you reach this point click the thing", but then we changed direction.

Try to keep up, will you?

Some people took a lower-tech approach

By the time I reached 30 laps I was starting to feel a bit worn out and beat up, which was discouraging - my right ankle was getting a bit sore, and an issue I've been having with my left pes anserine (spot just under the inside of the knee where a few different tendons attach) was starting to get a bit talkative. I also felt like I'd been hydrating less than I should in the cold air, so resolved to focus more on drinking water from my hand bottle. I made myself run another 4 laps so I'd be more than a third of the way through - putting me at a little more than 14km - then walked a lap.

The start/finish area

SO SCENIC

That was when I noticed that something was wrong with my right knee - it hurt every time I'd extend my leg out behind me while walking. I'd had something similar happen before at Vulture Bait a few years ago, and it rapidly became excruciating then; I had to limp my way into the finish as it happened at the furthest place from the start area on my second lap of the course. The culprit was a tight gluteal muscle then, so I started trying to find something grouchy in the right side of my butt as I walked along. I was only about 3/4 of the way through the lap, though, when I got so chilled that I had to start running again.

Hilarious aspect of the race: the two ladies to the left of the path behind me (Shannon & Jen) were walking the course for most of the morning, booing and heckling as people would come past them. They also started moving to try to block runners from coming past, but I'm exactly the sort of idiot who would yell "I'M SPLITTING THE DEFENCE" and bowl on through between them.
(Photo credit to Heather - thanks for making me look good, sweetheart!)

When I reached the gazebo, I handed off my bottle to Tanker, having drained it - at least my focus on hydration was working, and I could run a lap without it while he filled it for me. I also tried stretching out my IT band and glutes, but nothing seemed to be helping. Welp, if it hurts to walk, I might as well run - I took another swig of gel and another S!cap, then set off once more to try to get some more laps under my belt.

As I ran lap #36, Jeff came past me and let me know we'd be turning around after the next lap. Hitting the bleachers and pulling a U-turn at 1h35m meant I didn't actually pass the gazebo, so I wasn't able to retrieve my refilled water bottle from Tanker until I had done lap #37 (in a row?)

Clockwise again

Having returned to our original direction of travel, I was able to confirm that the wind was getting worse again - it was a physical force shoving against me as I tried to make progress on the section along Upper James, only finally turning into a cross- and then tailwind as we came through the curves in the treed portion by the fitness stations. I hoped that I'd be able to walk more comfortably going clockwise, as I knew it wouldn't be long before I needed to walk another lap. 

I managed to run until I'd completed 45 loops, then dropped to a saunter...only to discover my knee was even more painful now. I tried massaging my glutes (yeah, rubbin' my butt while I wandered around; I'm super ladylike), but still couldn't really find anything wrong in there. As I walked and took photos - having grabbed my phone - it eased a tiny bit, but remained problematic. I ended up walking 2 full laps, though, and FREEZING in the process! I'd zipped my sweater back up, but by the end of the 1st lap I needed to stop and put on my wind vest. 

Which didn't help as much as I'd have liked.

Dropping my phone off again, I stirred myself into a run once more, but I stepped funny with my right foot as I set off and my ankle started to complain louder and louder. I ran laps 48, 49 and 50 - which put me at a half marathon, or 21.1km - and dropped to a walk once more.

My ankle was ok while I walked, but my knee was worse. I had to face the real possibility that I was going to do myself long-term damage if I tried to finish the 100 laps for a full marathon. There was also a half option (termed "half as bad" on the registration page, versus "fully awful"), so I wondered if Jeff would let me drop down in distance as I'd seen the medals on offer and WANTED ONE. I just didn't see how I'd make it the whole way through with everything that was going wrong; my knee was painful as I walked, and my ankle was agony if I ran.

The pes anserine problem had settled down a fair bit, but I didn't think it would let me hop the rest of the way.

Jeff came by as I was walking and chatting with Robin for my 51st lap, and asked if I could switch to the half, having already done a little more than required distance. He said it was no problem, which I greatly appreciated. Robin only had a few laps left to go in her half (she'd actually registered for the "half as bad" - smart girl!), so I thought I might try to close it out with her, especially as she was hurting a bit as well.

Heading out for my 52nd lap we both broke into a run to try to warm up, and it was immediately apparent that this was a terrible idea. My ankle screeched in pain and I was only able to produce the most awkward and shuffling of running strides. I wished Robin well and dropped back to a walk after a dozen or so steps, limped my way 'round to the gazebo (where Jeff and a couple of other people sat on the pavement trying to stretch and massage various painful body parts), and friggin' quit.

BOOOOOOOO 

Completely unofficial time: 2:29:30 for 52 laps / 21.94km

(There are no official results - nobody cares)

(Garmin workout data is here)

I was far from the only person to tap out before they'd finished their intended distance - I wasn't even the first. I'm still disappointed that my body wasn't able to hold together to go the whole way, but pavement SUCKS, especially when you do all of your long distance training on the softer, varied surface of the trails. The grind of a flat, unforgiving path - particularly with all those weird curves to put stress on hips and knees and it's innocuous little camber - was just too much for me on that day.

I would have stayed to cheer others on, but I was FREEZING TO DEATH in the bitterly cold wind.

Even Tanker was cold, and he's NEVER cold.

So, after going to grab my medal, we bailed.

Best. Medal. EVER.

An Epsom salt bath after we got home helped me shake off the chill that had worked it's way into my bones, and some massage and foam rolling on my right lateral quads and TFL (weird muscle on the outside of your hip) eased off some of the tension in my illiotibial band, giving my knee some relief. I was actually able to go for a short walk with Tank that evening, and have run every day since except today (my usual day off). There was a bit of sensation - not really pain, but something - in the knee on Monday and Tuesday, but it's disappeared completely since. My ankle has been cranky, but that's really nothing new; it's been causing me grief for almost 2 years now. Funny enough, my legs didn't even really hurt after the race; the shorter distance and totally flat profile weren't enough to cause any real soreness, so I've gratefully been able to return to training right away.

And have an awesome new shirt to wear post-run!

For all that Crappy Trails events are supposed to be poorly organized and miserable, it was really only the weather and my body issues that made for a less-than-stellar day: I don't mind doing dozens (if not hundreds) of short loops when I have the excellent company of fellow ultrarunners, and it was a great way to get a long run in on a chilly day...even if it wasn't as long as I'd expected.

Nobody cares about a stupid marathon anyway.