Thursday, 11 October 2012

Tango 100km Ultra: Part 3

Related posts: Tango 100km TargetTango 100km: Part 1, Tango 100km: Part 2


Give or Take, 45-60
As I neared the 45km sign, a spectator was approaching the opposite way, beer in hand, 'uh, nice offer, but I'll turn him down if he asks.'  He passed me without a word and quickly snapped open the can.  I looked back to see a runner slow to a walk, then grab the beer and chug.  'I'll never understand.'

I was now hitting my stride, feeling really good and running 5.20kms.  I thought of slowing down, but the pace was coming easily.  Quick stop for bathroom and back at it.  On settling back in, I realized I was running alone, no one behind and no one in front, 'ok, keep it rolling, stay strong, my race starts at 50km.'

To make it all even better, I came to the one point I would see Natsuko!  A quick hello, and I was back at it feeling great.

How quickly the tables turn.

Hit the 56km station and looking for the special needs bags.  'Uh, don't see them anywhere?!?  No time, grab some drinks and keep going.'  I rushed off without thinking and more importantly with no water.  My brain began to spiral, 'ahh, what will I do without the extra gels and water from the bag?  Toughest part coming, and I'm not ready.  My race starts at 50km, yeah, starts to unravel!!'  Dramatic much?

not looking happy
Sticking to the plan, I tried a caffeine gel.  Nothing doing.  A couple drops went down before my stomach said no more.  Then some salts.  Stomach, no thanks.  'Ok, no water + no carbs + no salts + 420m climb = disaster!'  

I pushed on, through the self-imposed darkness waiting for the mountain.


Separation Hill, 60-70
Finally it came.  Step after step after step, 'short, efficient, keep going.'  I continued up and up, no end in sight.  Passing a few people provided a boost.  Then the devil popped up, 'the other guys are walking, just walk a few steps.'  'No way, not one step of walking.  That first step will be the end of 10hrs.'

Back and forth, back and forth, this continued through the first 200m climb when the road turned down again, 'wow, first half down, ran okay.'

Short reprieve and back up.  2km later, jogging past more walkers, sun boiling my skin, heart pounding out of my chest, mind racing from negative to positive, I relented.  'Alternate walk/ run 100 steps each.'  This didn't last.  Full on walk.

I strolled into the 69km aid station and set up camp, right in front of the drink table.  Now I get it.



What Goes Up..., 70-80
Passing the 70km sign, the course was still climbing.  'When will this climb end!'  Walking, walking, walking, no runners, no aid stations, no spectators, no passers-by, no cars, no houses, no shops.  Nothing but trees and upward slanting asphalt.  It felt remote and very alone.

71k, still going up and still nothing in site, 'ok, if I walk the rest, I'll finish around 12hrs.'  A feeling worse than awful.  Then it went lower.

'What would it be like to hitch a ride?  Give up?  Throw in the towel?'

72, no better.

73, cresting the mountain, engine cooling down, heart calm, 'ok, maybe try a jog?'  It was a struggle, but I was moving again.  I decided to stop beating myself up, 'you gave it a go, underestimated the distance and climb but can still enjoy the scenery and a fantastic day.'

Aid station and another rest.  Water, sports drink, Coca-Cola, anpan, candy, raisins and a quick rub down. As I walked back onto the course, I noticed the sun, not how it was melting my flesh, more how it was brightening up the day.


The Box, 80-100
Before hitting 80, I was in the hurt box and way off target.  But, surprisingly, things were looking up.


With food and coke in me, I was running again and employing the dedication strategy.  Each of the last 20km was dedicated to a family member, friend or inspirational figure.  The thought is simple, they give up a lot to help me pursue endurance sport and for me to give up or walking in someone's km is like throwing it back in their face.

The aid stations were now my best friend!  Coke and raisins were my nutrition of choice.  During these stops I was using my broken Japanese to chat with racers and volunteers.  Most of my comments were about how fun the day was, hot and tough but enjoyable and a great experience.  

As I continued, I repeated, 'each step brings me one step closer to the finish.'  My mind drifted between this statement used so often in training and the personal dedications.  Other than this, I don't remember a whole lot from the last 20km.

96k and the race signs starting counting down instead of counting up.  This clicked, and I began to push.   

Back around 5.30kms and feeling good.

2km left and the streets began to fill up.

Rushing through the town, I recognized where I was.  Right turn, left turn, one more right and into the finish chute.  Final steps and feeling triumphant, I threw my arms in the air!


After wandering aimlessly for a few minutes, I spotted a baby pool, shoes off and feet in.  Not sure if this really helped, but it felt so good at the time.
 15mins to gain my composure, and it was time to eat!

she brought me anpan!
karaage (fried chicken) and udon
protein bar and green tea
Official Result - 10.39.37 and 76 out of about 2,200
Then back to the ryokan for a shower and an epic dinner.

not pictured: more fish, rice, soup, beers and sorbet dessert
What a day, what an experience.  I've been highly self-critical for every other race, and while I thought through a laundry list of improvements (part 4 to come), the most overwhelming feeling was pride.


Part 4: Race Assessment and Takeaways to come

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