On April 2nd, 2011, I was poised to run my first 100 mile race at the Philadelphia 100 Endurance Run. Things don't always work according to plan. What happened instead was a 24 hour collection of zaniness and comaraderie that changed everything.
Chapter I, in which Pete discovers the path leading to insanity
Genesis
It all began in November 22, 2009, on the sidelines of the Philadelphia Marathon, across from Lloyd Hall and the imposing presence of the Art Museum. There I was curbside, cowbell in hand and next to my wildly enthusiastic 11 year old son Jason. I was cheering on the runners as they came past (way to go Temple! Looking strong Monica!), trying to keep warm, and attempting to glimpse runners I knew from the huge throngs that sprang and occasionally hobbled past. It had been a year since a major race for me, and while a summer of taking it easy amidst sporadic trail races had been fun, something was missing. At that moment, I found myself needing to be in a race like this.
After a typical marathon "career", I'd moved on to a try a few 50 milers. Immediately, I fell in love with both the quest and the understated graciousness of the ultra community. I was also looking for a new challenge as well as to answer the question of how far I could reasonably run in one outing, which was one of the motivating factors for turning to ultras in the first place. What were the others? I find ultrarunning to be zen for me-- it somehow creates a oneness both with the distance and my body and mind that has to be negotiated rather than defeated (unlike the marathon). Also, I very much believe that learning one's self requires looking in from outside the boundaries of one's normal existence. Realizing the commitment a 100 would take, I discussed this with my wife Lori, who was very supportive. Little did I know how important this support would be or how substantial the combination of physical, mental, and emotional effort would be in training. I picked out a small race in November 2010, the Pinhoti 100, which is a beautiful point-to-point trail run in the rugged hills of northern Alabama. This worked perfectly as Lori's family is in nearby Georgia; several of them were marathoners, and they enthusiastically embraced the idea of crewing for me during the race.
The plan
My training in 2009 had been sporadic. I hadn't been very focused or dedicated recently, and I hadn't run with my long-time group PhillyFit that year as Lori was training with them instead. So I would have to start almost from scratch. After searching vainly for books or convenient, Runners World-like training plans, I read online accounts of many races and plans, only to find very little in common between approaches. Instead, I sketched out a weekly training program that I desperately hoped might work for a 100. It was completely contrived, an extension of my 50 mile race training plan that in itself was totally made up, but which had seemed to work for me for that distance. The key concepts of my plan were to increase mileage by no more than 10% each week, to have peak mileage weeks every 1-3 weeks as I progressed, and to run most of my mileage in back-to-back "brick" workouts on the weekends, with 2/3 of the mileage on Saturday. I remember laying out the schedule, working back from race day, and then suddenly realizing that I'd have to start training THAT NEXT WEEKEND just to fit it all in.
Couch to 50K
That winter and spring, I moved up to 12/6 mile weekends, then added 2/1 miles to this every other weekend until I was up to 24/12. Then it was every 3 weeks until I got to 30. I'd been doing well up to now despite the heat and humidity of the summer, and I was taking on lots of hilly terrain at Valley Forge, the Wissahickon, and Tyler Arboretum to match the 11K of elevation gain that Pinhoti presents. 11K is pretty mild compared to most 100s, but there were climbs of 2000 feet and later a steep 1200 feet, so I needed to be ready for this.
Tragedy
However, the relentless schedule was taking its toll. Besides the usual amusements that trail running always presents--such as mud, tumbles, turned ankles, scrapes, poison ivy, ticks, persistent flies, wrong turns, annoyed animals, and briar patch defeats--my accumulating mileage was becoming a burden. My "rest" weeks were still pretty grueling, and eventually my body succumbed to the punishment: I developed a sore left shin. After taking off a week, then 2 weeks, then finally 4 weeks to get better, my November dream was dead. Strangely, despite all the investment to date, I didn't feel too bad about it. Maybe it was due to all the fun I was having in helping to coach the PhillyFit crew up to that point. I decided to see how it went. My final rest period had seemed to solve the shin problem for the moment while my endurance seemed to be largely intact.
Renaissance
After attempting and succeeding at a long run in early November, I finagled my way into the Philly Marathon by buying a half marathon slot from my running buddy John C.'s wife, then swapping that for a marathon with another running buddy, Jeff L. I justified my banditry in my mind because I had talked John into doing his first marathon when his goal had originally been the half, so I "felt guilty" not running with him. How's that for convenient logic? Philly was a magical race. I had the privilege of running with a group of PhillyFit folks who were attempting their first marathon (John C., Steve, Jill, Sophorn, and Jim). By using the race as a training run, my time didn't matter, and I found myself running free and easy. We scattered in the latter quarter of the race, but I had the privilege of being able to pace all of my group members the last mile or so, plus several more first-timers that came in later. Symbolically, Lori and the kids were positioned right where I had been the year before, and I went past this spot several times during the race. It was really rewarding to see everyone fulfill their goals and witness firsthand the tremendous perseverance each had maintained as they finished up. I felt amazingly strong in the race and knew that the layoff had probably been the best remedy for me. It was time to see if I could renew my plans!
Reconnointering
I needed two things: Another race, and a better training plan. There were a number of 100s in late spring, but most didn't suit me: too far, too hard, required a recent 50 or more to qualify, or (to me) an unappealing course. It came down to Kettle Moraine in June (in Wisconsin, a relatively easy but hot trail race) or the Philadelphia 100. I was inclined to go with KM, as the Philly race was not my kind of race at all: no support (meaning no bling!); completely on asphalt; and worst of all, 12 mind-numbing circuits around the Art Museum loop. Still, a local race where I could have a few folks come out to see me finish or (as I dared to dream) even a pacer or two was intriguing. The strange attraction of this thought kept gnawing at me over time. As the weeks went on, I began leaning towards Philly, until I finally decided to go for it. Only later did I find out how prescient that feeling was.
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Great post! Can't wait for the other chapters.
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