The running community I know and love often throws out quotes or sayings that are meant to inspire and fuel a person's drive and motivation. Let's face it, for 95% of us racing isn't about competition against others as much as it is a competition against ourselves. Having a motivational quote, saying or personal mantra can help a runner push through even the lowest of moments on a race and can even help provide the extra little bit of mental juice to achieve a new PR.
This last weekend I toed the line for what I was sure was going to be a fun 50k through the hills of Arizona. The Cave Creek Thriller is put on by perhaps the best race organizers in Arizona -- Aravaipa Running. These guys are great, and they put together a great ultra series during the winter months when runners in most states are winding down their racing season. This was one of the deciding factors for me when I started looking for a race for the end of October.
The Aravaipa guys did not disappoint. There were quite a few of us signed up to do the 50k, and when the race started, I found myself a little ahead of the middle of the pack. I had studied the course in the weeks leading up to the race, and I knew that I needed to be careful not to go out too hard on the moderate descent into the Flume aid station. I maintained a good pace and as runners found their pace, I found that I passed as many runners as were passing me. So, my overall position remained unchanged.
I should mention at this point that when I started the race, I was dealing with some tightness in my hamstrings and glutes. In past races or runs, this tightness always subsided after four or five miles, so other than some pre-race stretching I didn't pay much attention to it. But by the time I reached the 7 mile mark, I noticed that the tightness was increasing to the point of mild pain in my legs and back. Other than that though, I was feeling great.
The course was unfamiliar to me but it was well marked and by this point, most of us had found our pace. From mile seven to the Go John aid station, there is a significant amount of climbing. Usually, I've got a pretty decent power hike I can resort to when running becomes too costly in the energy department. So, I felt good ascending these hills even if I wasn't the fastest at it. Coming downhill came at a price though. Each step sent pain up the back of my legs, and before I knew it, I was taking it really easy on the downhill. About this time, I started having flashbacks to the San Tan Scramble 50k, where I ran the last 17 miles with low back/glute/hamstring pain and spent the next few months recovering.
Enter the DNF demons.
I made it to the Go John aid station, again feeling strong (aside from the aforementioned problems) with no stomach issues, and I was definitely well-hydrated. I filled my bottles and had a few bites to eat before I started off again up the long steady climb out of Go John. My glutes and hamstrings were super tight at this point and I found myself unable to run much of the incline. After I reached the top, I started downhill at a good pace, but was still fighting the pain on each and every stride. That's pretty much how I ran all the way to the finish of the first loop into Start/Finish.
Between Go John and Start/Finish I really got into my head. Should I push through the pain, or should I play it safe and accept my first DNF? Maybe I should complete the rest of the race using the very slow jog/walk strategy -- at least I would finish. At this point, I started asking myself why I was doing this race. When it all came down to it, I had added it to my schedule as a fun event that I could fit into my training schedule as a supported long run. It would be nice to beat my 50k time from the San Tan Scramble 50k, but I wasn't dead set on any goal in particular. And, perhaps the biggest thing on my mind was the consequences of pushing through 17 miles the last time I had this problem and then spending months recovering. I don't have that luxury this time since my next big race, the North Face Endurance Challenge 50 mile, is less than a month and a half away.
Even after I made it to Start/Finish and spent some time re-fueling, I couldn't get out of my head. I'm an analytical person by nature, and I was truly analyzing all of the pros and cons (whether perceived or real) while I walked around trying to decide what my next step would be. I sat on the bench and immediately felt discomfort set in. This wasn't good. I spent the next five minutes agonizing about a DNF before I decided that as much as I didn't want the DNF, I wanted NF50 more. I threw in the towel.
Now, 24 hours after the race, I'm still beating myself up. Wondering what the rest of the race would have been like. Would my muscles have loosened up? Would I have been able to do an easy pace for the rest of the race? Even the most elite runners occasionally DNF, and everyone has their own criteria and reasoning behind making that decision. All I know is that DNFs suck. The next time I'm faced with that decision, I'm going to remember the after-party that comes with the DNF -- the frustration, the depression, and the disappointment.
I need to go for a run.
I liken it to playing Texas Hold'em with a middle pair when 2 other people have already raised in front of you. Granted, you could take the chance and see if they've really got cards but that chance could cost you dearly in the short-term and ultimately knock you out of the entire game. Me personally, I would fold and wait to play a stronger hand later on.
ReplyDeleteI think you made the right call.