Blood, Sweat, Tears and Other Bodily Fluids at the 2010 Firetrails Fifty Mile

Bodily fluids.  Have to deal with all of these at work.  But sometimes while at play too.

Lake Chabot (where the race begins and ends.  Taken years ago, from a different angle than seen during the race, held Saturday, October 9, 2010)

BLOOD

Aside from being a likeable guy, I like it when Chihping Fu and I run races together, because he brings his camera and takes lots of photos, which I can use in my blog reports.

This is not without risk, even in race like Firetrails, which as hinted by the name of the race, is relatively untechnical.  Near the turnaround, while snapping a photo, he tripped, wiped out and figuratively ate dirt.

Literally he bled.  Sometimes that happens on these races.  I've done this several times myself.

SWEAT

Luckily, it never got so hot during the day that the temperature became an issue.  The last few aid stations I dipped my Moeben sleeves in water, but no ice in the cap.

VAPORIZED SPIT

Lots of my teammates from the Rhomobile Quicksilver team showed up to run.  The team goal is to earn team points in the PAUSATF Ultra Grand Prix.  And even though our chief rivals, Team Tamalpa, could care less, we do, because I think winning gets us some partial race fee reimbusement.  And glory.

So, at the start, I was running with a group of my teammates-- Jean Pommier, Sean Lang, Toshi Hosaka (whom I met first at the 2nd Second Saratoga Fat Ass in February).   We Rho runners ran and chatted 1.5 miles until the bridge. 

Jean had his camera and told me he was not planning on running fast this year, and was intent on taking lots of pictures.  Nonetheless, he along with Sean (and they both ran Rio del Lago 100 mile three weeks earlier) and Toshi pulled ahead from me.   (Toshi would finish 2nd fastest rookie.)

I was breathing too hard.  This wasn't a pace I can maintain for 48 more miles.  I lost them.  I could make an excuse of having run too long several times a few days before while in Ohio, but most of it is that these young guys are too fast for me (well, Jean is actually three years older than me.  He would take a gazillion pictures and finish 18 minutes ahead of me and finish his blog report 3 months faster.  Show-off!)

photo by Jean Pommier

Nonetheless, it felt good to work it, to breathe hard this early in the race.

A large part of the improvement curve in 50 mile races is improving your willingness and ability to breathe hard the whole 50 miles.  Perhaps some people can extend this to 100 miles, but I can't.  But 50 miles is still runnable.  I'm not much faster than when I started running ultras 7-8 years ago.  I'm just pushing it at a given level longer.

URINE

I was starting to feel the urge to void on the long downhill to the turnaround in Tilden.  It would have made sense to try to pee on the return up hill, but somehow I though that a steady stream of runners would prevent me from doing that decently.  So I took a minute to go behind a tree behind the aid station (to which volunteers pointed when I asked if there were a portalet).  As it turned out, I was being peeranoid.

Later through the redwoods around mile 39 some runner I don't know catches up to me to ask if I peed on the trail.  There were some other pee marks before me, but I told him yeah, probably.  Sounding a little...pissed, he complained that he had to walk through it.  I apologized.  He seemed relieved to have gotten that out.  Then he dropped back with his pacer at an aid station, his pacer handing him back a bottle to be filled, which struck me as muling, but even if he had caught up with me later, I probably would not have mentioned it.

If anyone is pissed off at me, you are free to complain to me here in my comments.  Generally I try to pee to the side, but depending on the trail, this can be quite technical.

FECES

What did I eat yesterday?  Bad pit stops x2 early in the race, once right past Bort (mile 7.9) having to dig the hole with my foot, and the porta-potty at the 2nd aid station at Skyline (mile 15).  This resulted in passing and being passed by this one guy trying again to break the 50 and over course record (which he didn't, but admirable try) until I, being 7 years younger, was able to pull ahead.

Regarding the pit stops, I luckily could later write off 5 minutes lost on my 2010 form, and be done.

Too much information, eh?  But I started this bodily fluids theme.  Fluids.

Hey-- finally finishing and publishing these long overdue race reports feels kind of like taking a big dump.

VOMIT and TEARS

After the race, I had fun hanging out.  No cell reception in the park, even to text, so I either had to borrow others' phones or walk up to Lake Chabot Road.  I wanted my wife to bring our kids so they could eat dinner there, and I could hang out longer.  It's a very festive, family friendly affair, the post-Firetrails Cafe.

On the way home, my younger son complained of a stomach ache, but he's always crying wolf about his tummy and other things, crafty, manipulative kid that he is, so neither mommy nor daddy took him seriously.  Finally, he proved his integrity by spewing thin vomitus all over our couch.  Followed by hourly repeats most of the early night.  Lots of sheet changing crying, not lots of sleep.

By next morning, he was able to take in fluids, and by Sunday evening, back to his baseline.

I assumed it was from one of the pasta salads he wolfed down at the picnic, that his older brother ignored, and that this was a toxin mediated (as opposed to direct bacterial or viral infection) based on the fast on and off symptoms (no diarrhea).  

Two days later, my working hypothesis is debunked, as his older brother comes down with the same thing.

CEREBROSPINAL FLUID and/or BILE

Heading back through Chabot around mile 45, from Brandon Trail to Cascade Trail, this very large African American guy was screaming and making threatening gestures, and even attacking to a couple of marathon runners coming through.  I encounter agitated psychotic patients infrequently but regularly enough at work.  He sounded like he was about to lose it.  When I arrived at the last aid station, I told the volunteers, who had already been warned, and had called the park rangers.  Poor guy.  Fortunately no one got seriously hurt.  He was heroically calmed down by the the husband of writer/blogger/ultrarunner Sarah Lavender Smith (who was incidentally the 2nd or 3rd female rookie finisher--- congrats!).  

Sarah's heroic husband Morgan's account (a must-read) (not 100% sure, but I think you have to have a facebook account to read this.)

her much better than the one you are reading written race report

A few other select kudos:

Bree Lambert won women's race. Since I came 4th overall on our team, my points counted with hers for our Rhomobile Quicksilver mixed team in the PAUSATF Ultra Grand Prix.

photo by Jean Pommier I think

A few friends, familiar and new, finishing their first 50 mile run (this will not be a new blog report tradition, but I thought I'd clap for them publicly):

John Ostezan (left), who paced me the last 25 miles at Tahoe Rim Trail 100, Jean Pommier (not a rookie) at right.  Jean's race report and his race album of 329 photos

Erika Kikuchi, who decided to run this last-minute almost on a whim, choosing between, if I remember correctly, a 5k or this 50 miler.  (sligthly different, I guess...)

Stephen Wright

Baldwyn Chieh (not his first 50 mile, but he's been injured so long, it counts).  His inspiring blog report. How can my stupid post on bodily fluids be as inspiring?

with non-rookie Clement Choy on right

results

race website

Garmin Forerunner recording of my race

Jean Pommier's album of 329 photos

my more entertaining and seasonally-themed 2007 Firetrails report

Allow Our Youth to Digest Properly

High schooler came in with abdominal pain, and vomited 3 times.  Context:  started as she was finishing running the mile during PE class, continued even after she stopped.  On further questioning, she had finished eating lunch less than 30 minutes before she had to do this.  She really has to run it hard, because, as an athlete who runs track (shorter distances), if she slacks, the teacher dings her ("takes off points.")

Convinced myself not a coincidental early appendicitis or other serious condition, saved her the blood draw, gave her some Maalox and a Pepcid.

As an ultrarunner, I have to learn to eat and run-- literally.  And I guess someone has to take gym right after lunch.   But I commiserated-- this is nuts!  Mom agreed too.

Offered to write her a PE note.  Tried to figure out how best to word it--  needed to give her results.  Obviously, gym teacher's a hard-ass.  After about 15 seconds deliberation (patient's were piling up) I decided to lend some credibility to my note my dropping the running thing.

"As a board certified emergency physician and competitive USATF ultradistance runner, I do not recommend forcing strenuous physical activity within an hour or two after meals."

...next patient...

Post-Headlands 50k (Gastro Problem Revisited)

Maybe to understand what happened to me this year and why it happened, we have to go back to last year's race.

At Golden Gate Headlands 50k 2006, at the aid station shortly before the Pantoll parking lot (mile 12 or 12.5), I grabbed a potato, dipped it in salt and stuck it in my mouth, and eventually swallowed it with a few sips of sports drink--my usual race potato routine. Within a few minutes, I started getting water brash-- my mouth filling up with watery saliva, my stomach starting to churn. I slowed down to try to extinguish the nausea, but to no avail. Several times I hurled, first the potato, then some liquid, then dry heaving. When I should've been cruising downhill, I just vomited downhill. Several people passed me. I eventually recovered, but not without losing at least 5, maybe as many as 10, minutes between puketime and a slower pace.

(Since neither Scott Dunlap nor Chihping Fu was following me at last year's race with his camera, I had to steal this graphic image (unfortunately not of a trail running guy, but at least she looks Japanese) from the internet:) [PLEASE BE WARNED, EARLY READERS HAVE FOUND THIS IN POOR TASTE, BUT I NEEDED A GRAPHIC...CLOSE YOUR EYES AND CLICK PAST IF EASILY QUEASIED!]





So this year, no potatoes. Which meant no potatoes dipped in salt. Maybe it was the overcast skies, but I underestimated my losses to sweat. I should've taken an electrolyte cap every hour for security, but it seems I've becoming too fast at aid stations for my own good ("Fill it with sports drink please." Toss gel wrappers. Stash new gels. "Thanks." Run off.)

The other prerace event I neglected to mention last post, was my late-night calf spasm. Something like 3:30 in the morning Saturday, half-asleep, I stretched out in bed, dorsiflexing my ankles (pointing my toes). Perhaps I was low on potassium, perhaps I hadn't been stretching enough due to a tight work schedule, perhaps because I wasn't running enough due to a 2-day no-running taper, but my left calf cramped up suddenly --aaaaugh!-- and I had to breathe deep for half a minute and try to relax without waking up my easily stirred wife and only partially sleep-trained toddler. I end up getting out of bed trying to stretch out my calf. I'm not sure I really returned to sleep before my 6am shift. I knew that this could be a problem during the race the next day.

My race went well for the first 3 hours 45 minutes. I probably went out a little too fast over the sandy beach, but did get good position for the following single track (no one pushing me aside or holding me back), and did ease up and recover. Early on I dechicked myself of 2 of the top 3 women. I even for the first time ran without walking all the way up Miwok. I was cutting about 1 minute off each split from last year, and indeed at least 5 minutes off the pukepotato split down to Stinson Beach (about miles 13.5 to 16.5).

On the ascent back up to Pantoll, I started feeling tight in my calves, but didn't put 2 and 2 together. It was my body telling me something. I didn't listen.

Maybe because on the descent to Muir Beach (miles 20-25), I was able to really hammer it, passing Ron Gutierrez (we've been beating each other out with close times for 2 years), and gaining on the women's leader, Beverly Anderson-Abbs. I left the Muir Beach aid station at 3:39:21, almost 11 minutes faster than my split last year with a sub-4:40 well within my reach (since it took me less than a hour from Muir Beach to the finish last year).

So after the Muir Beach aid station, I whizzed past Bev. She told me "great job" and I answered "Well I didn't race 100k last weekend." (She did Waldo plus a couple extra miles and did very well.) I then ascended the hill and gained enough on her that I could safely and decently unload my distended bladder (the only other mistake was not doing this during the uphill from Stinson Beach).

I set my sites on my next victim, some guy in blue, when I felt 2 slight successive twinges in my left and right calves. Uh oh. The increased tightness didn't seem to go away, although no acute cramping. I had pinched a little salt at the aid station, but I realized that wasn't enough. I should've downed and stashed some of the lyte caps.




Cresting the first hill of the Coastal Trail to Tennessee Valley, I realized I'm in trouble. As the trail rolls along the coast, I knew I had to slow down since the sudden use of my calf to push off could set off a cramp. I didn't look back, but I know that both Bev and Ron are gaining on me. I looked up the final ascent of that split (at a little past mile 27), starting with a steep staircase of railroad tie steps. I climbed them without running. After fewer than 10 steps, suddenly my left calf spasms, like it did the night before. I put all my weight on my right leg so I can try to relax my left calf, and of course, the right leg suddenly spasmed. I went down, landing on my right side trying to relax my gastrocs and forcing large deep breaths.

Within a minute, the soon-to-be crowned USATF 50 kilometer trail women's champion, Bev, came up.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I grimace, my calves spasmed."

"Do you need anything?"

"Uh, yeah, do you have any lytes?...caps?"

Bev stopped, pulled out two. I asked her the completely irrelevant and stupid question "Is this legal?" Like it matters since I was in 18th or something place. She reassured me it is, as she stepped over me, rechicking me with grace and style.

Subtract something like 10 seconds from the women champion's time. Thanks Bev!

Beverly Anderson-Abbs receiving her national championship award (photo by Joe Swenson):



I down the tabs, wait maybe another quarter minute for the spasming to subside on its own. Obviously I didn't absorb the lytes that fast, but it would help prevent further cramping and another fall to the ground, and probably allowed me to finish minutes rather than an hour behind schedule.

On the descent, Ron Gutierrez, who'd I'd passed so fast, returned the favor. After Skyline, that's 2 races in a row he's edged me. I hobbled down the trail to the final aid station, which unfortunately is limited-- no salt, no lytes. I deliberately made doubly-concentrated Gatorade (the drinks were different at each aid station) in my bottle and set up the final hill.



Caren Spore (photo at finish above by Joe Swenson) then redoublechicked me near the top. I could not totally blame my injury for this one, since Caren suffered the entire race with a quad and hip that cramped up the first mile (and would hurt her for at least a week later); this was a legitachicking. I stopped several times to stretch my gastrocs, but I'm least I wasn't walking. At this point, it was survival and preservation--the last thing I wanted was the rupture my Achilles' tendon or gastrocnemius +/- soleus muscle outright running down the hill to the finish. Normally I really pound the descent, but this year I was too crippled.

Ironically all the well-meaning hikers and volunteers told me I'm looking and doing great-- I knew better. I came in at 4:49:50, which I later learn was just 14 seconds off last year's time. Maybe this was a divine omen (God giveth, God taketh away....) Good thing I already blew this year's PR streak at Skyline.

The first thing I did after crossing the finish was hobble to my car and call my brother's house fairly close to the race, where my family and I had spent the night before. My sister-in-law finally answered her cell.

"Hi, did my wife go into labor?"

"No, not yet."

Another break for me. It was my son's nap time, so I could hang out for a couple hours.

I'll take this as a valuable lesson. I'm going to be more diligent about stretching my calves (maybe I'll do Downward Facing Dog with my son every night), and during races pay attention to my lytes (I should've already known better about the lytes). If anything, I'm very lucky this happened at the end of a 50k, and not in the middle of a longer race.

with 8th place overall finisher Chikara Omine (photo by Joe Swenson)



Some links:

More photos at the finish line courtesy of Joe Swenson (1st place in the 50-54 year age division).

Photos taken during the race by Mark Haymond.

Jean Pommier's (11th overall) race blog with photos he took on a training run a few weeks earlier.

Ed Baker's (4th overall) blog including his race account.

Devon Crosby-Helm's (3rd place woman) blog account.