2019 Barkley Fall Classic 50k
September 21, 2019 at Frozen Head State Park in Wartburg, TN
My first ever DNF - what happened?!?!
Watch time: 9:17:26 after I finally decided to cross the mat
Position: DNF! Made it ~24 miles (19.8 "Laz miles") with estimated 8,570 feet gain/8,380 feet loss - mapped using Gaia GPS software, definitely didn't wear GPS on race day
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| Exhausted at the finish line |
TLDR version: I went all in attempting to get the 50k finish, but got my butt kicked all day and ended up dropping out after about 9 hours. Immediately swore off running anything ever again, then looked back 2 days later and realized I've made huge gains in two years and I'm already thinking about taking another shot at it.
REALLY Long version:
Back Story
A bit of background about my running history first. I never ran anything before I was 30 years old unless it was up and down a basketball court. While playing in a city league with a bunch of 30 somethings trying to hang on to their glory days of competitive ball, I destroyed my ACL/MCL because of a dirty play. After surgery my doctor said I definitely wouldn't be able to play basketball anymore. My injury was the worst he had ever seen after years of working on college football players. He even suggested I might need to wear a knee brace when mowing the lawn! Well I wasn't having any of that. Once I started PT I had a goal that by the end of 6 weeks I was going to be able to run 1 mile on the treadmill without stopping. I started the couch to 5k program from there, as I could run the few miles from work to home. A co-worker at the time had signed up to run his first half marathon, and being that it was 6 months away I decided to go for it. That progressed into training for my first marathon the following spring, and I held onto that fitness enough to finish the Run Woodstock 50k (my first trail race). That was 2013. And then..... nothing. Didn't do any consistent running for about 3 YEARS! REALLY Long version:
Back Story
Fast forward to 2016 and my family moved from Michigan to North Carolina and didn't know anybody, so I decided to get involved with the local run club to meet some people. That jump started my running and I started signing up for races. Not long before someone asked me if I had heard about the Barkley Marathons. I went and watched the documentary and was fascinated. Soon I found out about the Fall Classic 50k, a chance to get a taste of Barkley. I really had no idea how difficult it would be, but I'm always up for a challenge so I put my name on the waitlist a few months before the 2017 race, for the hope of running in 2018. Mother Nature had other ideas and brought about a hurricane, which caused many runners to have to drop out of the race. It wasn't long before Laz was asking for anybody who wanted to run the race to let him know, and I had secured a spot at the start line, despite having done no trail running and definitely no training that would help me out at BFC. Needless to say, it was a sufferfest, but I enjoyed getting to climb some of the hills they talk about in the documentary, and putting myself to the test. Ultimately, I came up way short of finishing the 50k, but was ecstatic with a near 12 hour "marathon finish".
Registration for 2018 was opening and I wanted no part after being completely humbled in 2017, but figured I'd throw my name on the waitlist "just in case" I felt better about things later in the year. Throughout the winter I got a few more ultras under my belt - a 40 miler and a road double marathon with 7,500 feet of gain, so when the call came again for who wanted to run BFC last minute, there I was ready to answer. Surely with more experience, and knowledge of what suffering the park can dish out, I should have a better result. Little did I know that my brain would be baked that day on Rat Jaw from 2:00pm until 5:00pm, yes 1 mile that took me 3 hours. Despite that disaster, I got another marathon "finish" that was 8 minutes faster than 2018.
Weeks before race day
2019 was to be my year of redemption. I put in the lottery ready to do everything it took to secure the precious 50k finish. The lottery pulled name after name after name, but I knew all along that even if I wasn't selected that I would get in at some point, due to other runners dropping out. My name was called as one of the last few of the lottery, and it was go time! I did everything differently this year - way more time on trails, working on fast hiking and downhill running, lots of time on the treadmill at max incline (only 15% but way more than I've done before), even some workouts at the track to keep improving speed for the runnable sections of the park. I did the vertical mile race in North Carolina back in June (16 miles with 5,280 feet elevation gain and loss), before taking a four week vacation out west to South Dakota and Yellowstone where I spent a lot of time hiking up mountains and running down them. Even convinced my wife to stop at Frozen Head on the way home for a quick 2 mile run up Bird Mountain, which I did 15 minutes faster than in the 2018 race - training was paying off! Continued ramping up the training through the summer, which ultimately culminated in a 20 mile training run around Frozen Head in August, at the end of which I felt great. Nobody knew what torture Laz had waiting for us in September, but confidence was at an all time high... |
| Reviewing our map, wondering how we can possibly do this? |
Race Day
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| Traditional race start - lighting of the cigarette |
While chatting with other runners on Friday, we all agreed that to be at aid station #2 by 10:15 would be in great shape. I rolled in there for another punch, refilled my hydration pack, and took off up the next climb at 10:03. I couldn't believe how well my day was going and knew if I could cover the next 10 "Laz miles" in 4 hours, the 50k was within my grasp. The problem with that was I had never been on the next section of trail and had no clue what was ahead. The Chimney Top Trail, as far as I know, has always been the last loop of the race, reserved for those who made the decision point in time. It was a trail I was waiting to earn the right to climb, but because of the course being changed every year, Laz decided to put it early in this race. I am a huge numbers geek and I think that knowing how many switchbacks there are in the early climbs was a huge help - it gave me small easy goals to focus on and I absolutely count every one of them - makes the mental battle easier. Unfamiliarity can be extremely difficult, and I experienced much of that on the next trail. It starts with a really steep climb (one that I think can rival Testicle Spectacle or Methlab), followed by a short downhill, and then another steep climb of almost the same caliber. It is here that the cramps returned along with some lightheadedness of which I have never experienced. I would be hiking along at a good pace and a crew of 7 or 8 runners would be behind me. I must have been doing ok because nobody was asking to pass, but then I would suddenly get nauseous, dizzy and out of breath and have to step off trail and let that group pass. I would usually turn to see who it was in case I recognized a familiar face. Several past BFC finishers I recognized, even a certain Barkley Marathons finisher and a 2 time Fun Run finisher - that definitely made me question what in the world I was doing in front of them at that point in the race!! I would try to latch on to the tail of each group and that worked until it didn't. Then I'd be solo until another group caught up, I'd have to step off again to let them pass, repeat and repeat and repeat. The only thing more mentally defeating than getting passed by so many was what felt like the 73 endless false summits (maybe actually 5 or 6)! I couldn't understand what was happening to me, especially since I thought I had been executing well on nutrition and hydration (the major fail of 2018). I had done quite a few workouts in the 4-6 hour range and never had problems like this before.
Anyways, I trudged on to the next aid station. In my head my plan had completely crashed, which is completely ridiculous in retrospect. I wanted to be to that checkpoint by 12:40pm and I got my bib punch from Laz around 12:50pm. Chimney Top had taken 20 minutes longer than I had planned, but because of the early cushion I built I was still only 10 minutes behind plan - and I had given myself 2 hours on Rat Jaw (but hoped it would be more like 1.5 hours). But that 10 minutes seemed like an eternity and the first thought of doubt crept into my head. It didn't help that I heard Laz announce that we were getting close to the point of it being a real struggle to make the 50k cutoff. A few runners in front of me used that as a reason to stop, but I stepped right up to Laz and asked him to punch my bib because I was still going to go for it. I had four hours to make the decision point and only had a downhill run and the power lines ahead of me. Once we started the run was when the severe cramps and muscle weakness really took hold. This was an easily runnable down yet at the time it seemed like it was non-stop uphill. I knew I had to really push here to make a bit of time back, but I had absolutely nothing left in the tank. I was reduced to walking most of this section, with a few 30 second jogs here and there - which quickly resulted in cramps in my calves or hamstrings. I felt my 50k finish being ripped away because I couldn't run, what I thought was my biggest strength. I ate a Snickers, drank more, took a few more S-caps, nothing really helped. Finally we hit the last short uphill section right before the power line sections, and it broke me. It only gains a few hundred feet, but in this short quarter mile I could barely move between the cramps, dizziness and fatigue. I knew there was no way I could climb up Testicle Spectacle and Rat Jaw with any kind of pace to make the cutoff, and the marathon was meaningless to me this year. I lost all the fight I had left.
I walked into the aid station and the volunteers were awesome - all smiles and encouragement, but I told them that I was quitting. One told me if I was dropping, I had to hike back to the road where the EMTs were and they could drive me back, or I could sit down and re-consider. I sat down, drank some powerade and water, and for the first time in an athletic event, I cried. I buried my face in my hands and let my emotions get the best of me. It was kind of embarrassing to sit there and do that, but this was such a monumental undertaking that I had built up for so long, it was a crushing defeat to realize that it wasn't going to happen - and I couldn't understand why. I watched as several runners came back up with smiles on their faces (???). My friend Jenny told me that it wasn't so bad this year - it was only halfway down Testicle Spectacle to get the bib punch, then back up. That was all I needed to hear to re-light a small bit of fire! I jumped out of the chair and started heading down. No way was I leaving Frozen Head without at least a few briar scratches and a filthy outfit from buttsliding. I worked my way down to the bottom in about 15 minutes, which was 5 minutes faster than planned - was I going to rally and still have a shot at this? That rally lasted about as long as it took me to try to push up the first climb. Soon it was back to all the problems I'd had before, and I was climbing 10 feet and sitting down for a few minutes. I checked my watch and did some quick math, and there was no chance I could finish the climb, go down Methlab, through the prison and up Rat Jaw in 2 hours. It took me 40 minutes to go up TS and Rat Jaw was more than twice as hard. When I got to the top of TS, I knew I could then easily make it to the prison. I took another break, and profusely thanked the volunteer for helping me rally and keeping me going at least that far. She was sure I would get there and decide to climb Rat Jaw, but not on this day. I headed down Methlab and had some fun trying out some new techniques on the really steep sections (for next time?), and helping a few other runners find their way when the trail split a couple times - it's easy, stay under the powerline. A little over 30 minutes and I was rolling into the prison.
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| Escaping the prison and this hell of a race |
As I was walking up to the prison's aid station, I saw my friend Tommy's wife Polina and we chatted for a while. I found out Tommy had been there 90 minutes prior - that absolutely made my day because that meant he was going to finish. And another run club friend Rich who had only got into the race 6 days before was making great time and ended up doing the marathon. Another friend Rick had a massive blister and had to stop at the prison also, so we chatted for a while at the aid station. I decided that I was going to still go through the prison yard, climb the wall, and go through the tunnel to ultimately stop before climbing Rat Jaw. After covering the first "10" miles in just over 3 hours, I spent 6 hours and 17 minutes to go the next "10", and then my day was done. I headed back to the aid station and saw my buddy Mark, who was intent on getting his marathon finish. I told him I'd see him at the finish line, then got a ride back with Polina so we could watch the finishers.
Post Race
At the finish line I saw several friends finishing, then decided I had time to go get a shower before Mark, Tommy and Rich finished. I grabbed my bag, headed across the field and to my surprise I saw Mark walking up. I gave him a big hug thinking something had happened and maybe he dropped half way up Rat Jaw. Turns out he was not allowed to even start it despite making it past the prison cutoff by 15 minutes or so. Sounds like there was concern about runners going up Rat Jaw that late in the day and were trying to avoid the risk of having to extract runners. We were both disappointed that he didn't get that chance to at least try, but understood it was a tough call for race officials to make. Now I'm hearing that Laz is looking for those runners and I'm sure will take care of them in some way. After showering and eating a delicious steak sandwich provided by the race, we sat there until the 13hrs 20mins final cutoff time, screaming and cheering for every runner that came down that last stretch of road. It hurt a ton to be on the sideline and not be running through the finishers chute, but it just wasn't my day.
I immediately decided I wasn't going to run this race again, and felt empty and defeated. I felt that the work I had put in was more than sufficient to finish, despite the more difficult course, and I couldn't understand why my day went so poorly after starting off so perfectly. Considering all of my symptoms and thinking back on my nutrition for the day, I firmly believe that I was suffering from a case of hyponatraemia - excess sodium in my system, which leads to retaining fluid and being over-hydrated. I drank three fills of my hydration pack of Sword - probably 3 servings each fill at 470mg per serving. Definitely not blaming the product, as I've previously had success with it - just not in this large amount. The food I ate also contributed another 300mg. All this while I only drank maybe 8 ounces of plain water all day. From a Runner's World article about sodium supplements while running: "Symptoms of hyponatraemia include nausea and vomiting, headache, confusion, and muscle weakness or cramps" - pretty much everything that I was suffering from after the first few hours of the race (minus the vomiting). Call it an excuse to quit if you want to, but trust me when I say that nobody wanted to finish this race this year more than I did. In the moment it felt like the right decision. The risk just was not worth the reward for me at that point. It also helped me realize that it wasn't my training or the effort I put in on race day that was my downfall. Despite all of the problems I had during the race, if I had continued to push and gone up Rat Jaw without issues, I probably would have just missed the decision point and finished the marathon distance with over an hour improvement. Considering that most of the top runners this year were around an hour slower than they were in 2018, I'd say I definitely could have finished on a good day. Of course, all that does is light the fire under me, and makes me want to give the Fall Classic yet another shot some day, armed with even more knowledge, experience and another year of growth. I'll definitely be back to continue chasing after that goal.
Lessons Learned
- Obvious lesson - it takes many many things to go right to finish an ultra of this magnitude. Even one thing wrong can derail your race. Every runner I talked with afterwards said that you almost have to have the perfect day to finish this race (unless you are an elite or a long time veteran). You need a combination of sufficient training, good weather, fueling, pacing, and several other factors. My downfall was in my fueling strategy - which was overcompensating for my lack of fueling last year. Hopefully after this I can find the right balance for my next race.
- DRINK WATER! It seems obvious, but plain water sometimes is all your body needs. It's important to pay attention to how much nutrients you are putting into your body over a certain period of time. Drinking Sword has been great to me all summer and I still think it's a great product, but it should be taken in smaller doses along with lots of plain water. Too much of a good thing can become a bad thing.
- The 'F' is for did not FINISH, not FAILURE. Immediately after I was done, I felt like a failure. The fact that I built my entire training plan and race strategy made it sting even more. If I had been following a plan from someone else, then I wouldn't have to shoulder all the blame. It still all sits with me, but I've come to grips with what happened. I realize that my growth since starting this trail and ultra running journey has been far from a failure, and much more a success. I'm very proud of the growth I have achieved as a trail runner. The 2017 me would never have made it as far, as fast as the 2019 me did.
- A day spent hiking on the trails (or running on the roads) is always a blessing. Some days you don't have your best performance, but this is what I do because it's something that brings me joy. Whether I finish first or last or not at all, I have to remember how lucky I am to even be able to do these things. To have the love, support and encouragement from family and friends - some even crazy enough to join me in these adventures - makes it even better.
- I got a DNF, but also got a DNP, and that's WAAAAY cooler! Maybe I Did Not Finish, but at least I Did Not Poop my pants!
