Heartland 50

Time for my second go at the 50mile distance, this time at the Heartland 100/50, also known as the Spirit of the Prairie Run. It's Kansas' sole (currently) 100mi run, and one that I've heard much about from Nerd/Hawk friends. I've had it penciled in to my race calendar since mid-July. Unfortunately, it filled up in mid-June, and it was only thanks to the awesomeness of Bad Ben that I was able to sneak in and officially be a registrant 11 days before the race itself. Was planning on heading down anyways - would ask around about pacer/crew/aid station volunteer needs if I couldn't run.

I was nervous about this race! Didn't expect to be - I realized afterwards I didn't have any definitive goals except "Don't Bonk" and "Beat my Voyageur Time". But the sheer quantity of random mini-stress attacks about minuscule details in the week leading up to the race spoke against my "it's-all-good" outward demeanor.

Was originally expecting to drive down Saturday morning at dark-o'-thirty, but co-worker Keith mentioned he wouldn't mind closing Friday (minor miracle), and I would be free to boogey down for the pre-race briefing and dinner. The race is held in Cassoday, KS, which has a population of 99. It's the only exit for 30mi either direction off of I-35, and contains some houses, one tiny gas station, and a community building, which 125 runners + at least 3x that number of pacers, crew & race workers took over for the weekend. Craziness. Co-race director Randy Albrecht (an accomplished ultrarunner in his own right) gave us directions for this 10th running of the race, the most significant of which was the weather. Friday was pretty nice - mostly sunny, low 50's, not too much wind. Saturday - nope. *Might* break into the 40's, possible rain at any point in the day, and windy. This being a gravel road, open prairie run, any weather that happens we would be right in the middle of. A bit nerve wracking for a group of trail runners used to being sheltered by trees and the like. Pre-race dinner was great - all the fixin's you might find at a church potluck, and all prepared by one amazing Mennonite lady + helpers. Various salads, veggie dishes, beef brisket, chicken breasts, bread, etc. Plenty of good fare for omnivores, veggies, and in-betweeners like myself. I had brought a can of great northern beans as a just-in-case supplement, and downed it with dinner anyways. Stomach had been a bit unsettled, but I chalked it up to nerves. Said hi to Gary Henry, Paul & Cindy Schoenlaub, Jim & Sandy Beiter, and a bunch more folks I somewhat remembered from Flatrock.

At Heartland, I was hoping to learn a lot about the workings of a 100-miler, so that I'd feel better prepped for Ozark Trail 100 in a month. After hanging out with Darin Schneidewind, his family and other Topeka folks (John Knowles, Kyle Phillips, Jenn Franklin & family), I headed over to the *cough* campsite, where Colleen Voeks, Jim & Sandy Beiter, plus many more of the race folks were parking by the start/finish line & camping in our cars. Despite numerous previous plans to sleep in my car, this was my first actual experience. Once the sun went down, two things rapidly happened - it got COLD and it got DARK. Only lived in the city a year and I'm already not used to country darkness. Sheesh. After laying out some prep for the next morning, it was pretty easy to tuck in to the car - BUT - how to sleep. Do I lay the front seat back to nearly horizontal? Do I sleep curled in the back seat? The trunk? Ended up going with option #2, which did not hurt my back like I was worried. Read some Trail Runner magazine and drifted off around 9:30p, alarm set for 5:00a.

Saturday - had the most splendid waking up ever! Actually woke up at 4:45, before my alarm, noted the time, started the car, curled back into the sleeping bag and when the alarm DID go off, got to get dressed & eat breakfast (bran flakes :) in a nice, WARM car. Saddled up, hit the port-o-potty, and hit the mandatory check-in. Skittered around nervously with everyone else, decided to start with three layers up top instead of two (but lose the third at the first aid station, as evidenced by my pinning my race number to the front of the second layer) and shorts. It was announced that the 50 milers were going to start about 75 yards ahead of the 100 milers. Walked down to the start, glanced at my watch - 5:57a. Oh crap! I completely forgot that I had promised my bud Debbie Webster that I'd make sure there was a group hug at the start! Sprinted back to the other start line and gathered Darin, Jim & Gary for a hug. Of course Gary was lame and took a picture instead of joining in, but we hugged, I wished them all luck one more time, and sprinted back up to my start line with 30sec to spare.

Gun goes off! Plan for today is to go out at 11min pace and see how long I can hold that. My only previous 50mi was Minnesota Voyaguer, which is a tougher course in which I bonked pretty hard. My time there was 10:50, so I figure if I can hold 11min pace, that plus aid stations should put me in around 9:30, or at least under 10hrs if I run into some trouble. Go out pretty conservatively - definitely not Greg Burger style (just kidding), but 100 yards into it, I'm leading the race! Ahh! Another guy near my age pulls up, and we learn that each other's name is Brad. The following conversation ensues:
"Ran this before?"
"Nope."
"Me either."
"Got a headlamp?"
"Nope."
"Me either."
"Know where the course goes?"
"Nope."
"Me either - let's have some fun"

About a mile in, some of the faster guys cruise on past - I say Hi to Kyle Amos, Paul, etc, and I let Brad go soon after to settle in to what feels like 10-11min effort. Darin & I had planned on going out together to hold each other accountable to not starting too fast, but he started behind me & haven't seen him yet. First poop at mile 3. Hit the first unmanned aid station in 39:30...ummm...this is mile 4.6 - definitely not 11min pace. Oops. Back off a tad, but feeling good so I go with it. Sunrise is around 7a, and with it comes (of course) the wind. North wind. Brisk. Roll through Battle Creek, the first manned aid station (Willie Lambert's Great Plains Running Company) at 8.2 feeling good, still around 9min pace. With the wind, decide to hold on to the outer layer. At this aid station, I am enabled to add another electrolyte replenishing beverage to my list of "things that can potentially make Brad puke". Conquest. Sorry Hammer Nutrition - you make great Goos, but both HEED and Conquest cause the stomach to tango.

Darin catches me soon after and we head along together. Except...rather than restraining each other, we feed off each other and start catching folks. It isn't until Darin & I catch back up to Paul that warning bells start going off. We back it off a bit more, but still feel good. Except! Pack = Fail! Goos are falling out on the road, I have to stop, pick them up & stuff them back in 3 times! The third time, my numb fingers drop the whole pack & EVERYTHING spills out. Darin stops for a pee break while I repack & manage to keep from cussing, and zipper shut my Goo pack. Sheesh.

Course is very straight, on gravel, country roads. You mostly run in the tire paths. No water crossings, only one small muddy spot worth noting. You'll go the same exact direction for 4-6 miles at a time before hitting a right-angle turn. Hills are rolling, all are runnable with fresh legs or fresh determination. With hills, I find there are some that will zap you only if you let them (mental), some that will if you're not paying attention (big enough to be trouble if you don't get mentally prepared), and some that will zap you no matter how tough your mindset is. Heartland is full of Category 1, only has a couple Category 2 (at least on the 50mi course), and none of Category 3. With this being a flat, open course where you can see miles of the course stretching ahead of you with little to distract you, it is very much a mental game - if you don't let the course get ahead of you, you'll be fine, but once you start giving the difficulties more attention than they merit, you're on a slippery slope.

Darin & I roll into Lapland a bit later than I expected - I thought it was 15.4mi into the course, when it's really 16.8. Didn't realize how much I was anticipating it until it started to fray a bit on my mental game. Darin and Jim's crew (including Colleen) are at Lapland, and it's great to see some smiling, familiar faces. Have to wait while a PB&J is made, but fresh=good and take it on the run, sharing with Darin. We've hit some northward stretches now, and the wind is really becoming a factor. Still feeling it, and I begin to stretch out a bit from Darin. Feeling good, and I figure as much as we've gone so far at this pace, we're each either going to really pay for it or amaze ourselves. My money's definitely on the former.

Around mile 21, we hit a directly northbound stretch, right into the teeth of the wind. It was definitely the most memorable part of the run, weather wise, and could have been the toughest, but it actually helped me, I think. This is the mileage where my legs usually start getting distractingly sore, but with just shorts on, it was like running in a perpetual ice bath. If I can't feel the pain, is it really there? Cruise into the Teterville aid station at mile 25 (my turnaround) feeling good. I've only counted three runners passing us heading back, and am wondering how in the world I missed so many folks, so I ask the aid station folks if I'm really in 4th. They tell me 3rd(!) - one of the guys had a pacer. Well, bonk city, here I come. Not to mention that in the whole first half of the race, I have only now finished off my water pack (500ml) plus three 4oz cups of liquid at aid stations. Double Oops.

You know how you're never supposed to do anything new during a race? Well, an awesome friend, Rachael Gordon, had given me her old MP3 player on Wednesday, and I hadn't gotten a chance to try it out before race day, but I really wanted to. But I hate having ear phones actually in my ears. So I fumble around for at least 8 minutes getting my numb fingers to safety pin the headphones to my headband and get everything situated, then roll out with a final good luck to Darin and Gloria Gaynor in my ears.

Oh. My. Goodness. Colleen had told me before the race that for her, having music while running is like snorting crack. And she is so right. I swear I felt nothing the next 5 miles but a bass beat - so many folks I went by coming into Teterville must have been staring at the runner with black hoops dangling from his headband, talking to the wind and having arm spasms every which way. So many songs just call for air guitar solos no matter what you're doing, right? And I actually got myself into oxygen debt from singing along. Don't know what my pace was (fast), don't care - it was AWESOME. Also, in all that I forgot to check my split at the turn around, but I think it was somewhere around 4:08-4:12.

Back into Lapland the second time, starting to get a fueling routine down, which will help me at Ozark. Baked potato wedges first for quick energy, then some Pringles for salt, then some PB&J so something sticks in my stomach. Goos at least every hour (should be twice an hour but I can't eat while running & hate to take walk breaks unless I need them). Water as much as I can, which is still not enough, but I know how sore I get so forcing myself to take water breaks every couple miles now. Haven't had any salt so far...we'll see how that goes. And then whose head pops into the aid tent? Shelley Flones! Another familiar face. Though, as loopy as I was getting + not wearing my glasses, I'm sure I gave her the strangest Who Are You? face when she poked in. But she forgave me, and gave me ibuprofen! Yes, another new thing on race day, but considering my lack of hydration, I was fortunate to be as soreness free as I was at this point, and thought it wouldn't hurt to try to aid the wind chill numbness in that.

The stretch from Lapland to Battle Creek was probably the hardest for me. It was leaving Lapland and still seeing no one at all in the visible mile down the road behind me that I realized I might very well place 3rd unless someone ran amazing negative splits or the wheels completely came off. But that meant there was no one around - just me, my tunes, the wind, and gravel road. And cows. Can't forget them. This stretch was just about maintaining and trying to keep the wheels from wobbling too much. More drinking, more goos, less air guitar solos. The thing about ultras and my legs is, unless other variables are put into play (creeks, STEEP hills, rocks that break up your stride), once I get about 10mi in, whatever pace my legs have been going is what they'll fall into naturally. Or grow tired of and reduce me to walking. On this stretch, I decide my new goal is to not walk - to actually run the full 50 miles, with no walk breaks except the short, necessary ones for goo/water. But no walking for walking's sake.

Low point of the race (seriously) - my new MP3 player decides to play Billy Joel's Piano Man and Weird Al Yankovic's Ode to a Superhero (parody of the previous song) back-to-back. Not exactly the most motivational song, and I was struggling some, wanting a more quick tempo song. AND THEN. For the only time that day, it skips and restarts Ode to a Superhero when it was within 20seconds of finishing. Same song. 3 times in a row. Not cool.

Battle Creek couldn't come up again fast enough, grab my usual fare plus a solitary peanut M&M (blue) for good luck, and head out. My ears keep straining for footsteps behind me - I really want that 3rd now. I've never placed anywhere near as high in an ultra before, and this would be a real breakout. I know most of the elite competition is in the 100, but still feel I could be top 10 if everyone was in the 50. Who knows. Mentally calculate and recalculate my pace & goal time, and realize I'm basically a lock for sub-9hrs (unless I walk). Everything is basically followed with the phrase "unless I walk" now, and my determination not to is what I cling to (plus Weird Al Yankovic, They Might Be Giants, etc).

Hold Steady. Keep the Wheels On. Don't Walk. Hold Steady. Keep the Wheels On. Don't Walk. The unmanned aid station at 4.6mi is a solid point for me, and I realize I'm going to make it. I'm not going to walk. I'm going to finish sub-9 (maybe even sub 8:30). I might finish 3rd. I keep myself buoyed with a mental montage of good finishes from previous runs, and click away. Without my glasses on, it isn't until about 3 miles out that I finally can make out the water tower that marks where the start/finish it. Very encouraging to me - the end is in sight. A mental playback of a Debbie Webster Woohoo! helps me find a bit of reserve and pick it up a step or two. Down the stretch, turn the corner, a half mile and DONE.

8:17. 3rd. Also, first half around 4:10, second half 4:03 (discounting time at Teterville). I mean, really? I negative split an ultra? I never negative split ANYTHING unless I make precise plans and pacing. Plus I burned that first half with Darin. What??? Not to sound big headed, but I'm slightly in shock. PR by 2:33. This potentially opens some doors...

Weather ended up completely nuts - 37 was the high, and that was sometime mid-morning. Clouds moved in after that, and the wind blew all day. That last part is what I forgot to factor in - wind is never an issue with the trees, and I'm used to disregarding that part of the forecast. Quite the opposite here - in open prairie, if there is wind, it is the main thing you notice. 20+ mph most of the day and night (slacking off a bit after midnight Sat/Sun). Never did lose that 3rd layer. And to top it all off - Sunday was gorgeous like Friday was!

Could say more, but I've written so much already. Real quick - Shelley is an angel for taking care of me at the finish, Topeka Trail Gator Hunter Munns saves my bacon when I discover I'd locked my keys in the car (deja vu) by playing along very well pretending my car is his (for Triple-A), I grill burgers for finishers until Bad Ben shows up, and we head out to set up Mirage Aid Station at the 4.6 unmanned mark. First time with extended aid station staffing, quite fun. Long, cold night for he, I, Shelley & Poochini - I wore 6 layers up top, 3 below + 3 socks and sat a foot from the propane heater most of the night and was still shivering in the tent. Was actually harder than when I was running because of the cold and sitting. 1.5hrs of sleep, German movies, inane conversation, staggering, freezing runners. Propane runs out around 5:30a. I send 250+ texts through the night with my own mini race cast of how folks are doing. Mt. Dew Code Red is my go juice.

Kyle finishes 4th in 17:37, first time Heartland had four runners under 18hrs), Darin and I pull a double - he comes in 5th in 18:19, WAY ahead of his 22hr goal and neither of us suffer bonks from our stupid starts. Paul finishes 7th after chasing down a guy 90 seconds ahead of him at our aid station, we save Gary Henry's butt ;) on his way to a solid 27hr finish. Other folks kick butt in the 50mi - John & Sam Kevern come in 9:11 and 9:21, 7th & 8th overall (Sam is 2nd female), John Knowles 9th in 9:30, Willie Lambert 13th, Kyle & Jenn 22nd/23rd. Good times are had by all and now you're quite tired of reading my poor excuse for prose. If you actually want to hear more, check with your psychiatrist to make sure your meds are up to date, and then come join me on the trails! :)

Thanks to Bad Ben, Shelley, Debbie, Hunter, Colleen, Darin & family, Gary, Kyle, Paul, Randy, Jim Davis, James Barker, the whole Tuesday night crew, all aid station & race workers, the multitude of other folks I'm forgetting and of course the Big Guy upstairs for everything. Y'all are why I run - it's not just that I can't do this alone, it's even if I could, I wouldn't. Y'all make it worth it.