Boulder 100, 2010

I signed up for the Boulder 100 an hour before the race started. There aren't many races left where you can still do that.
It's nice to be back in the fray.



As far as the race goes, it was a complete bust. Memories of the Steamboat Marathon 2009, I spent half my time on toilets, and my fastest running was trying to get to the toilets before it's too late. The good news is, I didn't have any accidents. I saw sign that I was not alone in my agonies, and feel thankful I fared better. Still, after symptoms grew half as severe, and then went back to full strength again, I lost patience.



I could no longer run to the toilets because running made it worse. So after reaching 50 miles in only 10h25m, I struggled through one final, agonizing lap.
It was a 30hr race, and I had only gone 57 miles when I stopped, and parked my car next to the porta-potties. All night long I listened to the porta-potty doors slam, using them myself half a dozen times. In the morning, after some sitting and drinking some Mix1, I hoped I could walk one more lap. Even that was dangerous, and I again barely made it safely.
Total mileage ended up being 64 miles.
In spite of the way it turned out, there is no other way I would rather spend my weekend than doing my best at a 100-mile race.
I believe finishing was a certainty, if it hadn't been for my issues. My pace was quite good, and I was looking at a slight PR of maybe 23:10 to 23:20, if you factor in normal deceleration. My target had been 22:49, but I lost so much time in toilets, that frittered away. I knew the crux of any hundred is the miles between 70 and 90. For some reason, if you can make it to 90, it seems your demons are slain, and the last 10 tend not to be as bad.

Sixty-four miles is far short of my goal, but it's more than 100K, and it's farther than I've run since the Moab 100, 2009, when my plantar fasciitis first reared it's ugly head and took me out. There is no sign of my PF. Unfortunately, you don't dare turn your back on PF. If you've ever had it, you're more likely to get it again, and you just can't stop the ice treatments.

One of the highlights was when David Clarke found me in the dark, right before my 8th lap. He barely had time to pace with me for 3.5 miles. I was in a "shitty" mood, but he sure did raise my spirits.

Next event, I plan to help at Adam Feerst's Bear 10-Spot.