Des Plaines River Trail Races 50 Mile; 2016

Des Plaines River Trail Races 50 Mile; 2016
By BroadArrow


No shoes, no food, no problem.

This year proved to offer redemption of sorts: I finished. And on my own terms.

Last year was cold, miserable, and an abysmal failure in almost every respect.

The primary weakness noted was that my feet were exceedingly week and took something like a week to recover. I hypothesized that this was due to having spent the vast majority of my quality training time on super smooth sidewalk. Thus, after taking 10 days off from running and then another three days of just zooming around really fast on smooth sidewalks, I bit the bullet and started running on chip-n-seal at least a little bit, whenever I could. During the winter, I did not get too much of that in because of snow and ice and no place to get off the road when cars pass. But when spring and summer arrived, I forced myself back out onto the rough stuff.

My other major weakness involves being nervous for no reason. Attempting to run 50 miles ranks pretty low on the list of dangerous and stressful things that I have done in my life. Furthermore, it doesn't really matter and no-one cares how well I do or do not do. But, for some reason, race days get my stomach in knots and screw up my sleep and all that. The result being that food makes me feel bad and suffer too much to be willing to run very much. Even water doesn't sit very well. And since I am a "refuse to suffer runner", it really cuts down on the speed.

I have not yet devised a good way to train the nerves without shelling out a bunch of money I don't have to enter a bazillion little races just to get used to the jitters. So, the second-rate solution is to try to manage the food and water problem. That is, I tried to train myself to be able to get along without them as much as possible. My completely unreasonable strategy was to try to make my diet avoid junk food and eat as much low-glycemic-index food as I could reasonably consume. It turns out that it is actually kind of hard to eat 4-6 thousand calories a day of healthy food. And then, as much as possible, I would time my runs to occur in the middle of the day without eating breakfast, if possible. And not carry water with me. Well, it was a pretty hot summer, so I did take water with me sometimes just to make sure and those heat-index=108F days were kinda miserable and forced me to stop and seek refuge in the shade. Still, I hate carrying water with all that sloshing and what not, so I hid some jars of water by a telephone pole halfway down my usual route so that I could have an aid station if I really needed it.

And finally, try to run slow. My theory was to try to maximize the legendary "fat burning" capacity of the body so I could make it as far as possible without eating.

All of this also plays along with my desire to have an "anytime, anywhere" sort of capability: if something really goes wrong and I need to get somewhere (zombie apocalypse, plane crash, whatever), how far could I go just taking off with no equipment, no fancy "nutrition" packets, no shoes, no nothing except maybe some scavenged water?

So, those were my training principles: chip-n-seal, no food, little water, run slow.

When race weekend arrived, I managed to get things planned out enough that we got to the hotel at a reasonable time in the middle of the afternoon. Apparently, we are a fixture now or something and the lady at the desk came out of the office, and without looking down, was like, "No shoes guy! How are you? Good to see you!"

We got our stuff inside and the rest of the family went off to do some shopping. That allowed me to go out for a short run on the first part of the race route. The run was just fine, but I was still feeling kind of nervous. So, I went over to where the race people were setting up and asked if there was anything I could do to help (and also try to score my race bib so I wouldn't have to get up so early in the morning). Things were going pretty smoothly, but there were a few tasks remaining. The person holding down the fort at the start/finish area was the wife of one of the race directors. She was like, "Oh, you're the barefoot runner!" We staked down the tarps to be used as the drop bag zones and put in the little signs and all that. The she was like, "Hey, you're tall! How about you help me put up the sides on these canopy things? I could probably do it with a stool or something, but it wouldn't be pretty." I could reach the velcro just standing on the ground, so I was able to do most of that while she schmoozed the other few runners who had wandered past to get a feel for the starting area. And although the bibs were there, the list matching runners to numbers wasn't, so I didn't get my bib after all.

I highly recommend pulling stunts like that because, of course, it makes friends with the race people, but more importantly, it gave me something useful to do that got my mind off of my jittery nerves. Upon returning to the hotel, I was calm and happy enough that I was able to eat a significant supper (which I had always planned on not eating).

Each year, the children go to bed a little more nicely and quickly. Still, it is a (sort of) new and interesting place, so it took a long time to get them to actually quiet down and quit quizzing each other about Star Wars trivia and what not. I don't know that it mattered that much because I still woke up about every hour and a half it seemed.

Eventually, the appropriate rising time arrived and I put on my blue jeans, assortment of cotton shirts, and sweatshirt. The kids in my room got up and changed their clothes as well. We went next door to the other half of the family who were also up and getting ready. They then drove me over to pick up my packet but had to return to the hotel to get the "parking permit" that let them stay close to the start/finish area. (There are also full and half marathons with MANY more participants, so they have to park in a different place and ride a shuttle to relieve congestion; the 50-milers get to park close if they want.) Anyways, I wandered over to the registration tables wrapped up in my giant blanket and picked up my bib. My newfound friend from the previous night was like, "My man! Oh, you look so tired!" Uh-oh, that's not good.

My family got back before the start, so I unloaded the shirts/etc onto them and stayed wrapped up in the blanket. The weather was scheduled to be (and turned out to be) just about perfect from a barefoot perspective: starting at around 55F and slowly creeping up through the day to hit a high of 70 or 75F just before nightfall (and the cutoff). Still, I had no desire to be cold in any way at the beginning, so it was nice to be able to have the blanket.

The start is in "waves" 3 minutes apart. I decided to go in the third wave. Which wave turned out to have only like five of us in it. I guess everyone else was anxious to get on their way. I handed my blanket to my wife and was off. In my usual place: DFL.

Now, I had a pacing strategy worked out despite doubting my ability to follow it. The general plan was to take the first three miles pretty slow (well, maybe not slow enough, but live and learn) around 10 or 10:30 min/mi. Then, try to target a pace that would be equivalent to a 10 minute mile pace if I were at my optimal temperature. Since it would be getting warmer through the day, that meant starting a little faster and then letting the pace slide as time progressed. Additionally, there was supposed to be a constant 15-mile an hour wind which should be a tailwind during the first half and a headwind for the return half. So, the outbound paces should end up 15 seconds faster and the returns 15 seconds slower for a 30 second wedge due to the wind.

In the event, um, nerves and stomach muscles conspired for a slight sideache which is properly managed by, well, slowing down. Also, since most of the trail is actually through the woods, the wind never really showed up except for a little bit in the prairie sections. Even then, it tended to swirl and was more of a crosswind than anything else.

So, I stayed in the DFL position for about the first mile and a half until we hit a pavement section whereupon I sped up a little and started passing people slowly. My pace stayed slower than my original intention, but hey, whatever. At the aid stations, I would try to drink at least one or two of those half-filled paper cups. It wasn't thrilling. Partway through the race there are some permanent vault toilets and I figured, hey, I should do a quick potty stop just in case. One look at that pee and I was like, hmmm... maybe I should force a little more water down, huh?

The aid stations were a breeze. When you're not eating, it is pretty simple. Get in. Make sure they saw your number. Pat all of your children, squeeze your wife. Maybe grab a dry shirt (I think I ended up doing about 4 or 5 shirt changes because of my excellent crew). Then a quick swig of water and on your way.

Probably the most pleasant surprise of all was the condition of the trail. The trail is a wide, engineered, multi-use path (horse, hiker, biker) that roughly follows the river (hence the name). So, sometimes it is just cut through the prairie or woods and other times has been built up a little through marshes/bottomlands/floodplains. The typical surface is this hard-packed grit pretty much like a baseball infield. So, you feel it on your skin, but it isn't like barbed wire or anything. Of course, you get to run 50 miles on it, so if your feet aren't prepared (see: "year, last") you can get all messed up.

This year, a) my feet were prepared and b) there was a special gift from the ruling powers of the universe: You know how when barefoot runners forget to take out the trash or do the dishes that the gravel fairies go and spread sharp stones on their usual running routes? Well, apparently, I had been doing my chores or something because something like 5 or 10 miles of the path (so 10 or 20 miles of the race) had been visited, literally the day before, by the sand, grader, and steamroller fairies. I kid you not: the fancy miniature grading machine and steamroller were parked at the side of the path. Hard, smooth, sandy earth. It was uh-*maize*-ing with a capital A.

After starting in DFL + the 6-minute wave delay, I had clawed my way up to about 35th place (out of about 90 runners) by the turnaround (I merely counted how many people passed me going in the return direction). However, I had begun to experience slight overheating and had observed that I probably needed to drink more water. I had not yet walked at all, but decided to do some serious walking to try to calm the stomach and abdominal muscles.

Thus began the walk/run and walk/walk sections of the race. I discovered that while walking I felt really strong, but running, not so much. Maybe the fat-burning systems were able to supply more than enough energy for walking, but not enough to sustain much running. In any case, I had enough of the mythical "time in the bank" that I could more-or-less just walk it in and still beat the cutoffs. Still, I tried to do a little running here and there to shave time off where I could.

Obviously, all sorts of people passed me and my pacing goals went down the drain. But, even people who were just out walking their dogs or whatever coming the other direction would somehow get to know me and say, "Oh, the aid station is half a mile up and your family is waiting for you there!" I guess people were able to figure out who the barefoot guy was and who his crew were. As for the participants, I heard fewer comments about the feet than in previous years although there were still plenty. It seemed like there were two kinds of people who thought it was great: the people at the very front (race winner: "That's awesome!" as he went blowing past in the return direction) and the people at that back who continually referred to the practice using words that we are not supposed use on this family friendly forum.

I had one extended conversation with a young lady around my age who was looking for a good excuse to put off starting to run again. "I'm sure everyone has been asking you already: why don't you wear shoes?"

Anyways, I kept plodding along. The outside of my left knee started tightening up, but was just fine while walking. So one strategy was to run until it got too tight and then slow down again. My family kept meeting me at the aid stations and my kids started running out to meet me (which was great as long as they didn't try to hug my stomach while I was running). Tons of people passed me, including most of the very few people who had started with me in the third wave. Yea, verily, even in the last mile: I told the guy that I was unlikely to join him when his next run segment commenced. And we happily parted when he zoomed off to a superior finish.

I managed to muster a little bit of energy and recognized the final turn before the clearing. So I was able to run when people could see me and tumble across the finish line in about ten and a half hours with a smile on my face. A guy standing next to the race director (?the *other* race director) was like, "Wow, that is amazing. Can I see your feet?" So, I bent my knee to show the sole (and was curious myself): just like normal feet. I couldn't resist: "Do you see all the blisters?" And he replied, "That's right: there aren't any!"

Now, I am pretty sure that my problem is mental/nervousness because after crossing the finish line, magically, I could drink liquids again, and eat some food, and all that. So, I got some Gatorade for a little flavor, such as it is, and a vegeburger and got some sustenance in me.

While getting into the truck on our way out, I saw the lady I had walked and talked with back on the trail. She was limping through the parking lot, cradling her Hokas in her arms, padding along in her socks. So I said (attempting to commiserate), "Oh no! Don't limp!" And she was like, "Yeah, yeah..." I asked if she had any blisters and she replied, yes, several. So, I put the glimmer in eye and not-so-innocently asked, "How are you healing your feet right now?" And she got this sheepish smile on her face and responded, "I'm going to start running barefoot...."

Enough with the narrative: let's talk brass tacks in case someone comes behind seeking this sort of information.

Things that went well:
* I was able to finish a 50-mile trail race, barefoot (admittedly on a really good surface), with no breakfast and nothing but water along the way.
* My feet were not the limiting factor, did not even really feel stressed, and showed only the tiniest bit of capillary destruction which has resolved in about 2 days (as opposed to last year where it took like a week or week and a half).
* I never got chilled, despite not-hot temperatures (even on training runs, I will get chilled afterwards despite 88F and running slow).
* My calves had zero soreness.
* My knees were perfectly happy as far as the joint part goes (there was that little bit of muscle tightness in the left outside one).

Things that went poorly:
* Ok, on the feet, it feels like a little tendonitis or something between the big toe metatarsal and then next one over.
* The left knee had the weird tightness that showed up in the second half of the race.
* Pacing was almost ok in the first half, but fell apart as a result of the epic flameout in the second half.
* Nervousness resulting in inability/unwillingness to drink very much.
* Unhappy stomach muscles (probably related to the nervousness, since it never happens in training) which nonetheless have to be used for stabilizing the body while running.
* A tiny bit of sore back muscles, but I don't know if that was from sleeping poorly and playing volleyball two days later.
* Inability to keep it going in the second half: Probably multifactorial and not entirely clear what was going on.

Training ideas for next time:
* Keep up the massive chip-n-seal diet. It works. Yeah, you have to swallow your speed pride, but you know you can go places without fear.
* Probably do more weight training since that got squeezed out this time around. Two years ago (my previous successful outing), I had done more squats, deadlifts, and overhead presses and I don't remember as many stomach and back muscle complaints.
* Try to find time for some super long training runs. Yes: I know what the experts say about how it is both impractical and counterproductive. However, they also say that it is a mind game. I need the confidence/experience of knowing how it feels. I don't think that it is a pure coincidence that the wheels finally came off right around 30 miles. You know, since 30 miles is the longest training run length I have done besides the races themselves. I need to figure out if I am running out of gas at 30 miles, or if the body structures poop out then, or what.
* Nerves: I probably need to follow my friend's advice and just run a bunch of races to get used to it. But, that takes time and money and it seems lame to pay good money for a short training run. Excuses, excuses. I may just have to live with the nerves for the moment.

So again, I end with the plea: the race is super fun, laid back, as barefoot friendly of a surface as you are likely to find for a quasi-trail race, and the race directors are becoming familiar with and amused by the whole barefoot thing. It would be great to have another barefooter to fellowship with next year. And if you don't want to tempt fate with the 50, they also run the full and half marathons, so really, if you are within striking distance of Chicago, give it a whirl next fall.
 
Thanks for the write-up. Always good to know about the barefoot-friendly ones. I've mirrored this to the home page. Congrats!
 
Cool and congrats! I'm still amazed by your barefoot tenacity. Yeah those long long training days are really key. Although that 30 mile mark is a tough point for me too. Things start coming back together after another 10 miles and lots of sugar.
 
Wow great job BA! Can't believe you did a 10+hr 50 miler on nothing but a little water. That has to be extremely rare for any 50 mile event. And that was a great strategy too since you couldn't seem to handle food that you were able to train that way and in fairly short order able to develop your aerobic system enough to finish the race without any calories at all. That has to take a lot of effort, I know I like to eat! It's hard enough to eat healthy most of the time, it'd be even harder to not eat at all.

I get the nerves too a bit. Used to be really bad. It has faded somewhat over many races, but still on a race I really want to do well I still get the nervousness, even after 20-30 races. I kind of like the feeling, though it probably does hinder my performance, but it means at least racing is still exciting to me that I get all worked up and nervous about it still.

I had been searching for a barefootable ultra for the last few years. I remember reading your reports in the past and even debating it though its a bit of a drive from Ohio. But I remember the surface was questionable, maybe it was last year you even blamed that on your DNF... so I dismissed it. This year sounded much better but I wonder how reliable the surface smoothness will be for future years, since it sounded like they had just smoothed it prior to the race. Regardless I just can't seem to get enough training time in so I doubt I'll be in 50 miler shape anytime soon but something I'll keep in mind. ;)
 
thanks. i never really felt hungry. even after the race, i was interested in eating, but it wasn't like "must eat or die" or anything. it was more like i knew that i should eat, so i tried. obviously, the lack of food may have limited the speed on the back half, but i'll need more "data" before i can really confirm or deny that.

i don't think the surface was really any different that previous years. it had rained a couple days before, so portions were still moist and thus maybe not as "hard". but there were two factors that made it seem like there was a difference. temperature: it was *way* warmer this year and warmer is always better until about 95F, smooth black pavement, and sustained direct sunshine. the other was my training on the chip-n-seal. i seem to recall that you live out in the country with ready access to chip-n-seal, so that part should be doable... :) even if the surface is deemed too much for the 50, it should be totally runnable for the full or half marathon. it would be great to have another barefooter floating around.

with the additional chip-n-seal training and the experience from this race, i think i can now fairly confidently assert that the brown staining of my soles from the first 3 attempts was most likely capillary damage that eventually got fixed up and reabsorbed. this time, it never happened in training after i started easing into the chip-n-seal and after the race there was a barely detectable amount just on the parts that first hit the ground and it disappeared really fast (?less than a day?).
 
Great race report! I love the constant analysis of how to work around the different limitations. I'm inspired to go find some rougher pavement to incorporate into my training since surface condition is always my biggest anxiety when signing up for races.
 
thanks. i never really felt hungry. even after the race, i was interested in eating, but it wasn't like "must eat or die" or anything. it was more like i knew that i should eat, so i tried. obviously, the lack of food may have limited the speed on the back half, but i'll need more "data" before i can really confirm or deny that.

Even more impressive that you were not hungry afterward, though I am usually not hungry immediately afterwards since my system is in a bit of shock still, but usually the rest of the day I must eat all the food! Just goes to show what a difference training your system a certain way can make. I feel like I've trained my aerobic system some but not as much as others since I really loose steam by the time I hit 20, and less than that if I'm going faster. A local fellow I've had a bit of friendly competition with I beat in a 10k with an average pace about 30 seconds faster. But in the 1/2 marathon he beat me slightly by only slowing from 10k pace by ~25 seconds while I lost 55 seconds avg. Then a full marathon his pace slowed only ~20 more seconds while mine dropped 2 minutes! And he beat me by nearly an hour (even my fastest full was still a bit over a minute drop in speed). So I have some work still developing my aerobic system though I think in the greater distances it's not just that - I feel like I have energy just my muscles feel too strained and fatigued.

I'm reminded to over on bikeforums there is often talk about how many carbs do you need or what do you eat during a 30 mile ride or something like that. I'm always shocked how much some people need food for less than a 2-hr bike ride. I hope you don't mind but I'm sure I'll mention about 'this guy I know that ran over 10 hours with no food' a few times on that other forum when people ask about silly carb loading for relatively easy rides.

Yes I live on rough asphalt and chip seal roads. But I wuss out and 90% or more of my runs are on the smooth rail trail that is also close by. I just hate running on the road with cars, but I do often do my shorter runs on the chip seal. I'm sure I could increase that, except for winter if we get snow the roads become dangerous since they don't push the snow banks back around here, they often build up right in the already too narrow country roads. I did notice while hiking this year that my soles were a bit tougher, and I do attribute that to running more chip seal this year than last, well that an hot asphalt really toughens the soles even if it is smooth.
 
indeed, i am in agreement with pretty much everything you said. i, too, am amazed about how much food and water people take with them on even the shortest little jaunts when it is 68F. i mean, maybe if you are actually competing for first place and money and all that, sure: just run on "nitrous", but for the rest of us, it seems like overkill.

but there is a flip side to all the no food training: this morning i had a couple bowls of raisin bran instead of my normal oatmeal and had a major sugar crash (SHOW ME THE FOOD!!!) right in the middle of church. yeah, and last week i had had NO breakfast and had thrown down 30 miles by that point and wasn't even hungry.... so, if you aren't used to eating sugar, even in moderate amounts, it can be kinda dangerous. :)

and hey, start planning so i can see you out there next year! :)