Tuesday, July 19, 2016 I attempted to establish a "Fastest Known Time" (FKT) for doing the full length of the Wabash Trace on foot, self-supported. Rather than go into the details of the rules, etc., you can read it here if you'd like. If you think what I did was crazy, you should look at what Scott Jurek did establishing an FKT for the Appalacian Trail last year.
Thank you especially to my wife Lisa for being my "support crew" on this attempt, to Scott Schumacher for getting me started on this running craziness, and to Larry Kelley for showing me that we really can do this ridiculously stupid stuff.
People have asked if I attempted this for some cause. I did not, but if you feel inclined to donate to a great cause, three of my running friends recently completed some incredible runs for a great cause, the MS Run The US Relay. You can read their stories and donate at these links.
Tammie Kruszczak
Sammy Bridges
Kristina Myint
This is going to be a long one, so I'll start with the very basics, so you can skip the long-winded stuff if you want.
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| Before. 5:58 a.m. |
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| After. 11:43 p.m. |
Route Attempted: Full length of Wabash Trace Nature Trail from Council Bluffs to Blanchard, Iowa. 62.3 miles.
Route Completed: Council Bluffs to 220th Street, between Shenandoah and Coin, Iowa. 50.5 miles according to Mapquest (Garmin battery died--with side excursions for food, etc., mileage would have been slightly higher).
Start: 5;58 a.m., July 19, 2016
End: 11;43 p.m., July 19, 2016
Truths revealed, reinforced, learned, discovered:
- My family, friends and community are awesome
- There's no better place than southwest Iowa
- I am a quitter.
- "Your mind will quit before your body does."
- "Be prepared"
- "You can't outrun a bad diet"
- "Respect the distance"
- "If you chase two rabbits, both will escape."
- Water flows downhill. If the route starts next to North America's longest river, there's going to be some climbing.
- Tacos are yummy.
- 6ish pounds of water is a lot to carry, especially when also carrying an extra 20 pounds of fat.
- July weather in Iowa is unpredictable. Just like every other month in Iowa.
- Roasted beets don't taste very good after sitting in the back seat of my truck from Sunday morning until Monday night in the July heat.
- I hike at a faster pace if I sing. Even though I've never been into recreational pharmaceutical use, singing Hank Williams III's version of "Pills I Took" is the best I've found so far
- I need good sleep to perform well.
- My Garmin on current settings has a dead battery at 48.25 miles and 15:52:02
- The point at which I want/need to put in headphones and listen to music during a trail run is somewhere past 50 miles
- The point at which my uterus will fall out is also somewhere past 50 miles.
- Running at night is harder mentally than in the daylight
- It's easier to quit when not running for a cause.
- After 18 plus hours and 50ish miles in the same shoes and socks on a hot and humid July day, my feet are slightly funky
- My singing keeps me from getting eaten by mountain lions
What I wore:
My fuel (in order of consumption):
- 3 Donut Stop glazed donuts and 24 ounce "Kona" coffee from Casey's (pre-run)
- water
- 1 can mustard packed sardines
- water
- Sunbelt Bakery Golden Almond chewy granola bar and Southern Grove dried mango slices
- water
- 2 softshell tacos, waffle fries, lots of mustard, barbecue brisket sandwich and pint of Fat Tire Amber Ale at Classic Cafe in Malvern
- water
- Clif Bar Cool Mint Chocolate with caffeine
- water
- Pint of Leinenkugel Summer Shandy, 3 bottles Busch Light, 2 Dirty Sanchez at Emerald Isle in Imogene
- water
- another Clif Bar Cool Mint Chocolate with caffeine
- water
- 2 cotton bandanas
- Tifosi Pave sunglasses with interchangeable lenses in hard case
- Merrell Buff (Sycamore 8 swag)
- Bike MS crew length socks
- size 10 water socks
- 2 additional Sunbelt Bakery Golden Almond chewy granola bars
- 7 Band-aids of various sizes
- 5 Wet-Nap anti-bacterial wipes
- Sawyer Mini water filter with backflushing syringe, straw, and collapsible squeeze bottle
- orange paracord, approximately 12 feet
- Sony Walkman radio
- Yurbuds earphones
- khaki hat from The Gap
- lip balm that I think was in a swag bag from some race
- Gerber multi-tool
- my keys to truck and house
- Iowa driver license
- Trail Toes sample size and moleskin
- about 6 convenience store napkins
- 3 spare Energizer batteries for headlamp (in Princeton Tec case)
- lensmatic compass
- D-ring attached to pack strap for no reason
- one thick rubber band
- Citizen chronograph watch
- silver emergency blanket
- 8 ounce squeeze bottle of Our Family brand yellow mustard (purchased at Mulholland Grocery in Malvern)
- a magically disappearing baggie containing 12 Tums tablets, 5 stick pack of Extra spearmint gum and 8 yellow mustard packets
- Princeton Tec Remix headlamp in hard case
- Samsung Galaxy 4 cellular phone (Verizon service)
- Sharpie fine point black permanent marker
- Body Glide
- US Bank Credit card
- blank deposit slip on which I wrote the distance between towns and total mileage
- Approximately $60.00 cash of which I spent about $20
So much for the "short" part. Hold on for the long story. It's very detailed for several reasons. Most importantly, so I have it in writing instead of distorting the details in my mind over time. As my friend Gary Davis texted me, "it will be a memory that will stick with you until Alzheimer's sets in". I also made it very detailed in hopes that even a small thing may help others' attempts at completing their goals.
The "Why"
I love southwest Iowa and the Wabash Trace. I think it's an underutilized resource, so part of me doing this was to bring attention to the trail and get more people to use it. My hope was that if I did it, then others would also do it in order to break my record, bringing more attention and use to the trail. Those were my biggest reasons for this particular route. I chose this particular day because it was a full moon and Taco Tuesday!
This was also a training run for my 2016 "A race" the The Barkley Fall Classic on September 17. No, I'm not running The Barkley Marathons (this year), just the baby version of 30+ miles in ridiculously difficult Tennessee terrain. If you aren't familiar with the big Barkley, you should be, even if you aren't a runner. It's an amazing testimony to human strength and perseverance. You can watch a pretty good documentary of the 2012 version on Netflix, and if you want to read about it on the internet, Matt Mahoney's page is a good place to start. My plan has been to have to have a long, difficult run each month leading up to September. This fit the bill. I intentionally planned it for mid-July, knowing the heat would be difficult since heat will most likely be one of the many challenges of the September race.
Before
There have been lots of stones in my pathway leading up to this attempt. I had ramped up my training, especially running hills, in the spring. I ramped it up too much too soon, however, resulting in a stress fracture in my left foot, which meant I was in an orthopedic boot with no running from April 29 through June 10th. Not only did that dramitically cut my training mileage, it also led to me not participating in the Dizzy Goat 12 hour race on June 18th, which I intended to be a huge part of my preparation for my FKT attempt.
Another unexpected "problem" was that I had a shot at winning the overall title for the Elkhart Time Trial series on my bike this year. The top two guys in the area aren't competing this year, and the guy who has been #3 missed the second race this season. With there only being five races, that put me in 2nd place with a solid chance at winning it, so I did a lot more training on the bike than I had planned, which meant even less time running. "If you chase two rabbits, both will escape", so me trying to train for both but focusing more on the bike was a major factor in me not completing the FKT attempt. I don't think the running prevented me from winning the time trial series, however. That was due to my friend Tony Talbot getting stronger and faster each month and beating me in all four of the the races so far this season. Way to go, Tony!
I also had another difficulty added by getting a lung/sinus infection about a week before my attempt. I was better but not yet 100% on "race day". It cut into my preparation and still affected me on Tuesday.
I also had a couple of major unexpected things happen with work in the weeks before my attempt that took away a lot of preparation time that I had expected to have.
With all these obstacles coming at me, I briefly considered postponing my attempt, but I thought back to a lunch conversation I had with my friend Calvin Johannsen where part of our conversation was about him not really being ready for his 14ers Project, but that if he waited until he was ready, then he might never do it. The way he's crushing his project (check it out here) gave me confidence that I could get mine done even if I wasn't really ready.
The result of all of these unexpected obstacles and my reaction to them was that instead of doing weekly long runs of 20 or more miles and many other runs of 10+ miles after getting out of the boot like I had planned, when Tuesday rolled around I had done only one or two runs a week, with one of them being about 15 miles, a couple at 10 miles, and everything else shorter. During this time I also did a horrible job of controlling my diet, so I had gained 10 pounds in weight instead of losing the 10 to 20 pounds as I intended. I definitely was not prepared.
However, I left Des Moines early Sunday morning to go to my hometown of Shenandoah with high hopes, confident that I would find a way to get it done. I left early Sunday morning so I could make it to see my dad be honored along with three others with a "Christian Lifetime Achievement Award" for his commitment to his church. It was very appropriate that a big part of it was related to the work he did as a Royal Ranger leader. My time in Royal Rangers was a big part of me developing a love of the outdoors. I paid close attention to and was inspired by the parts where he talked about the time at a leadership training where he was honored by the group for persevering and not complaining about the time on his feet despite his leg problems and pain. Thank you, Dad! (photo by Becky Barr)
I stayed overnight at my Dad's Sunday. I was up a little before 5 a.m. Monday morning to make a drive to Council Bluffs (after picking up a couple of Donut Stop donuts, of course) to buy tires and make sure exactly how to get to the trailhead since I'd never been to that end before and to make sure I had a secure place to leave my truck the next day. Another unexpected thing that had been thrown at me was that my son had run over a pair of glass clippers that had mysteriously fallen off the garage wall resulting in a ruined tire. I was planning to get new tires soon, but not this soon. Despite having to take a detour because of construction, I found my way to the trailhead and went for a couple of mile walk to see what there was to see. I was glad that despite heavy rain and wind overnight, the trail was in good condition and the one broken tree was only partially covering the trail. I also picked up as much garbage as I could carry, which was quite a bit, on the way back. Earth Day every day.
I stopped by Fill 'R Up convenience store across the street, filled up the truck with gas and myself with coffee. I confirmed what my GOATz friends had told me, that they were very glad to have people park there while using The Trace. I will be making a point of stopping there whenever I'm close. They earned a customer for life.
I won't name where I went to get my tires mounted, but they were the opposite of Fill 'R Up. They charged me double what I expected for the mounting and balancing, and five minutes into the job they came back in to tell me that the lug was stripped because it had been cross-threaded when the spare was put on. I'm 99% sure it wasn't since I was right there and helped Alex change the tire, that it was the tire place who screwed it up (pun intended). However, I had no way of proving it, so I told them to go ahead and replace it, if they had the proper part in stock. A few minutes later they came back again telling me that they wouldn't know until they had everything torn apart whether or not they had the right part, that they might have to order it, they didn't know how long it would take, etc. I told them just to put everything back together, and I got out of there as fast as I could with what was left of my morning and my wallet. In line with the rest of their poor service, they didn't even put the spare back on its holder, just threw it in the bed of the truck.
After more time and a few phone calls, I realized that I was going to be driving with a missing lug nut for awhile. It wasn't ideal, but I wasn't going to let it stop me. I went back to my dad's house to get at least some work done with what was left of the day.
I then made another mistake that would come back to bite me. I thought it would be good to take a nap. I was wrong.
After eating an awesome fried chicken dinner courtesy of my step-mom Kathy, I visited some family friends for a couple of hours and then headed back to Dad's for final preparation, which included eating my roasted beets. I always eat a lot of roasted beets the night before and usually the day of my big endurance events. I have no problem digesting them, they have anti-inflammatory properties, and help the body use oxygen better. I then realized that I didn't remember moving them from my truck to the refrigerator, and then found them in the back seat of my truck. They didn't look good at all, but I needed them, so I tried a bite anyway. As bad as they looked, they tasted a lot worse. One more obstacle to overcome. No point in worrying about it then, so I decided to get some shut eye. Unfortunately, I was wide awake because of my nap. I had intended to get up around 3 a.m. and start my run around 4 or 4:30 so I could bank some miles before it got too hot. However, since I didn't get to sleep until shortly after midnight, I set the alarm a little later.
I got up showered and got to the Donut Stop just after 4 a.m. The glazed donuts weren't yet glazed, but Randy told me they'd be ready in three or four minutes. It was well worth the wait.
I found my way through the construction and stopped at Lake Manawa Casey's store since Fill 'R Up wouldn't open until 5:30. I got coffee, used the restroom, and lubed my feet with Trail Toes, other various places with Body Glide, and made my final preparations. After dropping my truck at Fill 'R Up, I walked across the street to the trailhead, where I first encountered, "The Hipsters".
"The Hipsters", a bearded man and a woman riding fixies without helmets were sitting on a picnic table having a smoke and gave me a friendly, "Good morning!" as I walked up, which I of course returned. After using the portable toilet a wandered over to my "start line". The clock on my phone said it was 5:56, so I decided to make my official start time 5:58, giving me 2 minutes to take a selfie, send my wife a text that I was starting, post it on Facebook, etc. Typical with how everything else had gone leading up to the start, right then the rain started.
It's not a yellow gate, but I touched one of the yellow poles by the start line and began my run as soon as my phone showed 5:58. A few feet down the trail I made my first stop at a picnic table to put my phone in my pack and get everything adjusted. I was immediately swarmed by biting flies, mosquitoes, etc. Apparently my bug repellent wasn't going to be very effective today.
I settled into a comfortable jog averaging about an 11 minute per mile pace. I hadn't gone very far when I suddenly smelled smoke. The Hipsters passed me smoking and drinking Budweiser tall boys and we said "hi" to each other again. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the broken tree had been cleaned up in less than 24 hours and that no one had littered in the stretch I had cleaned the day before. The rain also stopped after only a couple of minutes. It was going to be a good day.
The miles clicked right along. It was hot, but I was drinking plenty. I was mildly surprised that I was constantly climbing, but when I actually thought about it, that made sense since Council Bluffs is bordered by the Missouri River. Water doesn't flow up hill. The trail was beautiful, and I saw several people out getting their runs done. I didn't recognize any of them, but they were all friendly. I was hoping to see Joe Chamberlain out there since I know he runs it often, but no such luck. The Hipsters and I leapfrogged each other repeatedly, to the point that I even commented with a laugh, "Are we just going to do this all day?" Each time I came to a bench along the trail, they would be there smoking and drinking, then a little bit later they'd pass on their bikes. Before we got to Mineola, however, they turned around and headed back to Council Bluffs, and we waved to each other one last time as they passed me again.
As I got closer to Mineola I noticed my hands were swelling and my wedding ring was tight. With the large amount of water I was drinking and sweating I was doing, I knew hyponatremia was a possibility, I was prepared and had packed several packets of mustard (thanks to the tip from Henry Bickerstaff a couple of years ago) to replace the salt I was flushing out. I stopped at a bench and emptied my pack looking for them, but they were not there. Apparently they had fallen out in my truck, I had left them at my dad's or something. I wasn't worried so much about the gum that was in the same baggie, but I was concerned that the baggie also contained my Tums, which have worked well for me to both help settle my stomach and reduce cramping (I've been told they help with cramping because of the calcium). I wasn't going back for them wherever they were, so I broke out the only other thing I had brought with significant salt, a can of sardines packed in mustard that I had thrown into my pack almost as a joke. They hit the spot, and I had a great view while I enjoyed them, and there was a garbage can right there so I didn't have to put the empty, oily can back in my pack. My goal was to cover about 4 miles every hour, so at almost 8 1/2 miles done in 1:54, I was ahead of schedule despite the heat and humidity. This was actually the only time I used my khaki hat. I was dripping so much sweat on the screen of my phone that it wouldn't take a picture, so I used the hat to clean it off so I could get these shots.
The short stop refreshed me, and I picked up the pace a little heading into Mineola. I knew I was too early for tacos at Tobey Jack's, but I hoped there'd be someplace to get water and electrolytes.
When I got to Mineola I didn't see any businesses or parks near the trail where I could replenish my supplies. A definite disadvantage to not doing as much scouting of the route as I had intended. I didn't want to go off the trail searching for something that might not be there, so after checking my mileage sheet and seeing that I only had another 4.3 miles to Silver City, I decided to just push through. I still had some water left and figured that if I ran out, I could either make it the remaining distance to Silver City or stop at one of the many streams along the way and filter some water.
Just outside of Mineola, I started to worry a little about water, however. There were lots of streams, but with the heavy rains from the day before, the streams were running high and fast, and all the stream banks were steep, with no obvious, safe paths to safe places to refill. Even if I got to the streams, it would be a slick, steep climb back to the trail. Fortunately, I had enough water to make it to Silver City.
Between Mineola and Silver City I started feeling the effects of the heat and not having any significant long runs for a few months. I didn't feel bad, but I started taking some walk breaks, knowing that I had a long way to go. I also enjoyed a short ride on a trailside bench and a little nourishment.
Nothing seemed to be moving when I arrived at 9:20 a.m. in Silver City yet either, except the thermometer mercury rising and three people sorting mail at the post office. I asked them if there was any place there to buy food or drink and found out that the local bar and grill was the only option, and it wouldn't open until lunch time. At least the park had a water fountain next to the trail, so I filled my 3 liter bladder, took a selfie, and texted my wife. "Leaving Silver City, will take a longer break in Malvern. Feeling ok, not great. Ahead of my goal pace, but will slow down a lot later. 14 miles done". I started the 8 miles to Malvern knowing that I had enough water, but I was short on electrolytes (my shirt is completely saturated in the picture below) and this was the furthest I'd run in a few months. But I was moving into familiar territory, knowing that Malvern had good water, a grocery store and a bar and grill (I had just been there two weeks before seeing my brother and Matt Cox play a Friday night concert on the square) that would be open for lunch by the time I got there.
During that stretch I saw a few more people on bikes, including a couple out for a ride asking where I was going. I replied, "Missouri". I thought the guy was going to wreck his bike when he heard that, but he managed to keep it upright. I told him that I was so slow that the only way I could set a record was to do something that everyone else was too smart to try. He laughed, "You always set a PR that way!" They wished me luck and said, "Try to stay cool".
Over that eight miles it kept getting warmer, I kept drinking lots of water, and my walks got longer and my runs got shorter. By the time I reached Malvern, it was about 50/50. I would pick a landmark in the distance, tell myself, "I'm going to run to that ________" and then run to it and start power hiking. I would then pick the next mark and say, "I'm going to start running again at that______". When I left Silver City I was running about 3/4 mile and then walking 1/4, but as I approached Malvern, it was more like running 100 to 200 yards and then walking the same. About a mile or two from Malvern I decided to walk the rest of the way in to try to cool down a little bit, knowing that I was going to sit for a meal and hoping that the cool down would keep me from stiffening up and cramping as much. I arrived in Malvern at 11:44. meaning it took about 15 minutes longer than my goal of four miles every hour. I texted my wife that it had been a rough stretch, that I would be taking a longer break there than I had planned, that I had forgotten my mustard packets, She asked if I was getting rained on, and I replied that they had called for a 30% chance of rain in the morning, but it should all be past now. With that I headed to Classic Cafe to fuel up.
I sat at the bar and ordered a draw of Fat Tire Amber Ale. I knew I was short on both calories and salt, so when given the choice between the lunch specials of tacos or barbecued beef brisket sandwich, I chose both. It was a little too much, but not a lot too much. I finished it all anyway. With lots of mustard on everything. It was excellent.
I joked with the bartender that I would just stay at the bar to eat instead of offending "the civilized people" in the dining area with my smell. She laughed and said that I had a ways to go to catch up with a couple of regulars who come in for lunch after working with livestock all morning. It sounded like it's an ongoing game of her giving them a hard time about it and them intentionally coming in without washing up first. I also had another nice conversation with another employee who was making some monster bars to sell when RAGBRAI came through in a few days. She asked if I would be riding (I will be the first two days) and said she had lived there for a few years before she and her husband started using The Trace, but she really enjoyed it.
After my meal I not only was cooled down, but suddenly started shivering, so I paid my tab, hobbled across the street to fill my Camelbak on the square, and then went to Mulholland Grocery a few doors down to buy some mustard. I put the bottle in my pack and went back to the trail, making sure I got back on at the same place I had left it. I texted my wife at 12:36 p.m. that I was putting my phone back on airplane mode (I did that on the trail to save the battery). I started the 13.6 mile stretch to Imogene noticing that it was starting to look like it could rain.
I ran a half mile or so out of Malvern before I warmed up. I felt better than when I had come into Malvern. I didn't really need to pee, but I forced myself to so I could check the color to make sure my electrolytes were in balance. It looked slightly darker than it should, but not bad. I made a point of drinking more water.
In another mile or so the rain started coming down pretty steady. After being so hot all morning, it felt great! The rain lasted an hour or more, There was some lighting, but nothing major. The part of the day that I expected to be the hottest was actually fairly pleasant. During this stretch I didn't run a whole lot. I was trying to digest too much food, and I knew I wasn't even half done yet. I was also climbing pretty much constantly. It wasn't a steep grade (never more than 4% since it's rails-to-trails), but it wore on me. Then when the rain stopped, the humidity was high and the bugs were hungry. I lost count of how many deer flies, mosquitoes and unidentified biting insects I killed, but I'd guess that it was at least one hundred. On the positive side, I knew this part of the trail well, and I knew I'd have tacos, beer and friendly faces when I reached the Emerald Isle in Imogene.
I was still moving fairly well, just not fast. I could hike at a pretty good pace (15-18 minutes per mile) and ran the few downhills, but any other time I ran at a decent pace I started overheating. I knew that running now would cost me later. I wanted to be running at the end.
Because I didn't see another person in this whole 13+ mile stretch, I got bored. So I started singing. I got stuck in a time warp and ran through a bunch of Steve Miller Band, Billy Squier, Head East, John Cougar, and even a couple of Foghat songs. However, Hank Williams III gave me the best pace, especially singing "Pills I Took". With my lack of signing ability, it's a good thing there wasn't anyone else out on the trail.
I finally reached The Emerald Isle at 4:50 p.m., having taken more than 4 hours to cover 13ish miles. I was definitely falling behind schedule. But thankfully I was going to be able to take advantage of all the specials that started at 4:00 p.m.
I plopped down at a table off to the side since I wasn't sure if I'd be able to climb up on a bar stool. Even though I usually follow the "man rule" of "don't fruit the beer", a Summer Shandy sounded tasty. When I ordered one, I was also told that the table I had chosen was reserved for 5:00, as were all the other tables. After finishing my first beer, I was recovered enough to stagger over to the bar just as the people who had reserved the table arrived. I spent over an hour at the bar consuming three bottles of Busch Light and two Dirty Sanchezes and cooling down.
It was more time than I had planned, but I wanted to recover enough to start running again, especially knowing that a lot of the trail from there to Shenandoah was downhill. I chatted briefly with Becca, one of the owners who knew what I was attempting, telling her I didn't really want to go back out, but I was going to anyway. On the way out I had a brief conversation with my 8th grade math teacher, Mr. Brownlee, and his wife, and then saw Uncle Curtis coming in for dinner just as i was going back on the trail. He was just one of about twenty people I saw on the trail heading to Imogene for Taco Tuesday. After seeing no one between Malvern and Imogene, seeing others out there gave me a big mental boost.
I texted my wife at 6:03 that I was going back on the trail, that at my prior pace it would take me about 3 hours to reach Shenandoah, but I thought I could pick it up a little. I was right. I did that 10ish mile stretch in 2:50. I ran very little, but kept up a pretty good power hiking pace. I felt like I could have run some, but I wanted to save some energy so I could maybe run at the end. In addition to the boost from seeing others, it helped me a lot mentally that I was in my "home stretch", both because I was more than halfway done and I was in the part of the trail that I knew best. I hunted much of that stretch as a kid when it was still railroad tracks. I have ridden my bike and run on that section more than any other part, and the second half of the only Marathon I've ever run was on that section of trail. Our family farm is just off the trail north of Shenandoah, and for many years I have deer hunted land right along the Trace, including the time about which I wrote this essay.
As I came in to Shenandoah's Sportsman's Park, one of my fears was confirmed. Leading up to my attempt, I had planned to get some ice cream and other food and drink at the swimming pool concession stand since there were no stores in the last 18 miles, and had considered possibly taking a dip to cool down and refresh. However, the swimming pool was closed. I wasn't sure if it was because of the rain earlier, or if they don't stay open until 9 p.m. like they did when I was a kid, but it didn't really matter. My options were to run to Casey's a half mile away (one mile round trip), or hope I got to the bar in Coin (12.5 miles away) before they closed, or get by with what I was packing if I didn't get there in time, I've done quite a bit of training while fasting, training by body to burn fat for fuel, so I felt pretty comfortable with my choice to skip Casey's. I filled my Camelbak bladder to its full 3 liter capacity and lay down on the "porch" of the Rose Garden and elevated my feet for five minutes, just as the sun was setting. I ate another Clif Bar and texted my wife what was happening. She texted back that she was just a few blocks away, outside the public library using the wi-fi to watch a movie on her I-pad.
I then made a major mistake. I started thinking about quitting. Up until that point, whenever I was hot, tired, and/or hurting, I kept telling myself, "I don't quit when I'm tired; I quit when I'm done". I texted her that it was, "very tempting to say 'fuck it'. But I'm not going to." She replied, "But you've gone this far. You can do it!!!" That was at 9:06. I got up, put on and turned on my headlamp, and started hiking. I didn't need the light to see yet, but wanted to be visible to anyone driving since I had a short section to do on the side of the road rather than trail. I was moving and telling myself I would muddle through, but the "quit" thought was still in my brain. My lack of sleep the night before was catching up with me too.
By the time I went by the cemetery and was back on the crushed limestone trail, there was no more light from the sun, but the full moon was up. I could see the trail just fine, so I kept my headlamp on the lowest setting, not realizing this was another mistake. The mistake was that without being able to see details like individual leaves, a certain tree branch, or a bridge up ahead, I was no longer breaking it down into small, manageable chunks in my head. When it was light, I was picking out things a short distance ahead, reaching the goal, and then setting a new goal. Although they were small successes, I was having many successes. Leaving the cemetery, I knew that I would have an uphill grade until the trail crossed under Highway 2 a few miles ahead (I was thinking it was about two miles). I told myself that I would hike hard to that point, and then would have another mile to hike until there was a bench by another crossroads that looked over a field of grape vines, just a little ways past the old Izaak Walton League. I would reward myself with a nice rest there looking over that scene in the moonlight.
I started singing, "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" both to get in a rhythm and to scare away mountain lions. It brought back memories of a few years before where I had been running this same section on a similar night where, as I was running, I realized I was in the same area that several dogs had been eaten by one or more mountain lions in recent years. I figured between my bad singing and bad smell, I was pretty safe.
Somewhere in this section my Garmin battery died, which was another obstacle. For the prior 40some miles, whenever I thought I might be going too slow, I would check my pace on the Garmin and concentrate on going faster if needed. I no longer had this crutch to accurately judge my "speed". Combined with not being able to see much, I really didn't know how fast or slow I was going.
Unfortunately, I was wrong about the distance to Highway 2. It's actually about four miles from the cemetery to Highway 2, and almost another mile to the bench I was going to rest on, but I didn't know that at the time. I kept trudging along, feeling like I was barely moving. It was taking much more time than I knew it should to complete the "two miles" to Highway 2, and I kept having more and more negative thoughts. I kept seeing things ahead that I thought HAD to be the Highway 2 bridge over the trail, and every time I got there and realized it wasn't Highway 2, I was more and more disappointed.. Because it was taking so long to complete that "two miles" I kept pushing myself harder. I did finally get to Highway 2 and kept myself going by telling myself that in another mile that I would sit for a bit on that bench.
I finally reached the next crossroads and saw the grapes, but was devastated that there was no bench to sit on. I almost cried at this point. I still don't know if I went past the bench in the dark, that there had never been a bench there and I incorrectly "remembered" seeing it on my earlier scouting trip, or if the bench had been removed. Regardless, I was crushed that I couldn't sit on it to enjoy the view.
Things are a little blurry after that. I kept hiking, thinking that maybe the bench was on the other side of the road. I kept going for awhile and eventually found a bench dedicated to Larry Franzen. I plopped down, turned my headlamp off, and closed my eyes for a few minutes. I woke up hearing some animal scurrying around nearby and turned my headlamp back on to find a family of about 6 or 8 raccoons staring at me from a tree just to my left. I'm not scared of raccoons, but I hate them (I still haven't forgiven the entire species for stealing the fried chicken from my cooler 20 or so years ago), so I spat some obscenities at them and got moving again.
A little further down the trail I came up on a "porch swing" on the side of the trail. At least I think I did. Maybe it was before the Larry Franzen bench. As I said, things were pretty blurry at this point. I sat down and think I fell asleep again. I either dreamed (pretty sure it was a dream) or hallucinated that there was a guy sitting next to me on the swing. He had some bits of paper with some percentages written on them that he was trying to explain to me, but I couldn't comprehend what he was talking about. He also offered me some granola bars or candy or something to eat. I explained to him that I couldn't accept them, because that would disqualify me from this being a self-supported FKT.
I got up from the swing knowing that I was now on "quitters road", that my attempt was over. Even without the sleep deprivation, at the pace I was moving and not moving, it would take me way too long to finish. My will to push on was gone, especially knowing that I wouldn't make it to the bar in Coin in time to replenish any supplies, and that it might take until noon the next day to get it done. My mind quit, even though my body was still capable of forward motion. I just wanted to get to the next crossroads so I could text my wife to come get me. I "knew" that the next crossroads was right next to another place that I've deer hunted for years and I could direct her right to where I she could pick me up. Rather than disappointment, my biggest emotion was relief. I was happy to know it would be over, even if I didn't finish.
When I reached the crossroads, I found out I was wrong again. I was still short of my deer hunting spot. Instead of it being gravel, I had reached a dirt road that I didn't want her driving down because of the rain earlier in the day. I was so tired it took me four or five attempts to get my phone password right so I could even text her, which I did at 11:43 p.m. I hiked about 1/4 mile up the dirt road until it intersected with some gravel and texted her that I was at the intersection of 120th and E. Thankfully she figured out that I had mis-typed that and came to my actual location, which was 220th and E. While waiting, I took one last photo of my beaten self.
I plopped down at a table off to the side since I wasn't sure if I'd be able to climb up on a bar stool. Even though I usually follow the "man rule" of "don't fruit the beer", a Summer Shandy sounded tasty. When I ordered one, I was also told that the table I had chosen was reserved for 5:00, as were all the other tables. After finishing my first beer, I was recovered enough to stagger over to the bar just as the people who had reserved the table arrived. I spent over an hour at the bar consuming three bottles of Busch Light and two Dirty Sanchezes and cooling down.
It was more time than I had planned, but I wanted to recover enough to start running again, especially knowing that a lot of the trail from there to Shenandoah was downhill. I chatted briefly with Becca, one of the owners who knew what I was attempting, telling her I didn't really want to go back out, but I was going to anyway. On the way out I had a brief conversation with my 8th grade math teacher, Mr. Brownlee, and his wife, and then saw Uncle Curtis coming in for dinner just as i was going back on the trail. He was just one of about twenty people I saw on the trail heading to Imogene for Taco Tuesday. After seeing no one between Malvern and Imogene, seeing others out there gave me a big mental boost.
I texted my wife at 6:03 that I was going back on the trail, that at my prior pace it would take me about 3 hours to reach Shenandoah, but I thought I could pick it up a little. I was right. I did that 10ish mile stretch in 2:50. I ran very little, but kept up a pretty good power hiking pace. I felt like I could have run some, but I wanted to save some energy so I could maybe run at the end. In addition to the boost from seeing others, it helped me a lot mentally that I was in my "home stretch", both because I was more than halfway done and I was in the part of the trail that I knew best. I hunted much of that stretch as a kid when it was still railroad tracks. I have ridden my bike and run on that section more than any other part, and the second half of the only Marathon I've ever run was on that section of trail. Our family farm is just off the trail north of Shenandoah, and for many years I have deer hunted land right along the Trace, including the time about which I wrote this essay.
As I came in to Shenandoah's Sportsman's Park, one of my fears was confirmed. Leading up to my attempt, I had planned to get some ice cream and other food and drink at the swimming pool concession stand since there were no stores in the last 18 miles, and had considered possibly taking a dip to cool down and refresh. However, the swimming pool was closed. I wasn't sure if it was because of the rain earlier, or if they don't stay open until 9 p.m. like they did when I was a kid, but it didn't really matter. My options were to run to Casey's a half mile away (one mile round trip), or hope I got to the bar in Coin (12.5 miles away) before they closed, or get by with what I was packing if I didn't get there in time, I've done quite a bit of training while fasting, training by body to burn fat for fuel, so I felt pretty comfortable with my choice to skip Casey's. I filled my Camelbak bladder to its full 3 liter capacity and lay down on the "porch" of the Rose Garden and elevated my feet for five minutes, just as the sun was setting. I ate another Clif Bar and texted my wife what was happening. She texted back that she was just a few blocks away, outside the public library using the wi-fi to watch a movie on her I-pad.
I then made a major mistake. I started thinking about quitting. Up until that point, whenever I was hot, tired, and/or hurting, I kept telling myself, "I don't quit when I'm tired; I quit when I'm done". I texted her that it was, "very tempting to say 'fuck it'. But I'm not going to." She replied, "But you've gone this far. You can do it!!!" That was at 9:06. I got up, put on and turned on my headlamp, and started hiking. I didn't need the light to see yet, but wanted to be visible to anyone driving since I had a short section to do on the side of the road rather than trail. I was moving and telling myself I would muddle through, but the "quit" thought was still in my brain. My lack of sleep the night before was catching up with me too.
By the time I went by the cemetery and was back on the crushed limestone trail, there was no more light from the sun, but the full moon was up. I could see the trail just fine, so I kept my headlamp on the lowest setting, not realizing this was another mistake. The mistake was that without being able to see details like individual leaves, a certain tree branch, or a bridge up ahead, I was no longer breaking it down into small, manageable chunks in my head. When it was light, I was picking out things a short distance ahead, reaching the goal, and then setting a new goal. Although they were small successes, I was having many successes. Leaving the cemetery, I knew that I would have an uphill grade until the trail crossed under Highway 2 a few miles ahead (I was thinking it was about two miles). I told myself that I would hike hard to that point, and then would have another mile to hike until there was a bench by another crossroads that looked over a field of grape vines, just a little ways past the old Izaak Walton League. I would reward myself with a nice rest there looking over that scene in the moonlight.
I started singing, "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" both to get in a rhythm and to scare away mountain lions. It brought back memories of a few years before where I had been running this same section on a similar night where, as I was running, I realized I was in the same area that several dogs had been eaten by one or more mountain lions in recent years. I figured between my bad singing and bad smell, I was pretty safe.
Somewhere in this section my Garmin battery died, which was another obstacle. For the prior 40some miles, whenever I thought I might be going too slow, I would check my pace on the Garmin and concentrate on going faster if needed. I no longer had this crutch to accurately judge my "speed". Combined with not being able to see much, I really didn't know how fast or slow I was going.
Unfortunately, I was wrong about the distance to Highway 2. It's actually about four miles from the cemetery to Highway 2, and almost another mile to the bench I was going to rest on, but I didn't know that at the time. I kept trudging along, feeling like I was barely moving. It was taking much more time than I knew it should to complete the "two miles" to Highway 2, and I kept having more and more negative thoughts. I kept seeing things ahead that I thought HAD to be the Highway 2 bridge over the trail, and every time I got there and realized it wasn't Highway 2, I was more and more disappointed.. Because it was taking so long to complete that "two miles" I kept pushing myself harder. I did finally get to Highway 2 and kept myself going by telling myself that in another mile that I would sit for a bit on that bench.
I finally reached the next crossroads and saw the grapes, but was devastated that there was no bench to sit on. I almost cried at this point. I still don't know if I went past the bench in the dark, that there had never been a bench there and I incorrectly "remembered" seeing it on my earlier scouting trip, or if the bench had been removed. Regardless, I was crushed that I couldn't sit on it to enjoy the view.
Things are a little blurry after that. I kept hiking, thinking that maybe the bench was on the other side of the road. I kept going for awhile and eventually found a bench dedicated to Larry Franzen. I plopped down, turned my headlamp off, and closed my eyes for a few minutes. I woke up hearing some animal scurrying around nearby and turned my headlamp back on to find a family of about 6 or 8 raccoons staring at me from a tree just to my left. I'm not scared of raccoons, but I hate them (I still haven't forgiven the entire species for stealing the fried chicken from my cooler 20 or so years ago), so I spat some obscenities at them and got moving again.
A little further down the trail I came up on a "porch swing" on the side of the trail. At least I think I did. Maybe it was before the Larry Franzen bench. As I said, things were pretty blurry at this point. I sat down and think I fell asleep again. I either dreamed (pretty sure it was a dream) or hallucinated that there was a guy sitting next to me on the swing. He had some bits of paper with some percentages written on them that he was trying to explain to me, but I couldn't comprehend what he was talking about. He also offered me some granola bars or candy or something to eat. I explained to him that I couldn't accept them, because that would disqualify me from this being a self-supported FKT.
I got up from the swing knowing that I was now on "quitters road", that my attempt was over. Even without the sleep deprivation, at the pace I was moving and not moving, it would take me way too long to finish. My will to push on was gone, especially knowing that I wouldn't make it to the bar in Coin in time to replenish any supplies, and that it might take until noon the next day to get it done. My mind quit, even though my body was still capable of forward motion. I just wanted to get to the next crossroads so I could text my wife to come get me. I "knew" that the next crossroads was right next to another place that I've deer hunted for years and I could direct her right to where I she could pick me up. Rather than disappointment, my biggest emotion was relief. I was happy to know it would be over, even if I didn't finish.
When I reached the crossroads, I found out I was wrong again. I was still short of my deer hunting spot. Instead of it being gravel, I had reached a dirt road that I didn't want her driving down because of the rain earlier in the day. I was so tired it took me four or five attempts to get my phone password right so I could even text her, which I did at 11:43 p.m. I hiked about 1/4 mile up the dirt road until it intersected with some gravel and texted her that I was at the intersection of 120th and E. Thankfully she figured out that I had mis-typed that and came to my actual location, which was 220th and E. While waiting, I took one last photo of my beaten self.
The Aftermath
I fell asleep almost immediately in the car after I posted on Facebook that I had quit. But before I dozed off, I was overwhelmed by the amount of positive posts and support from my friends and family. I hadn't checked along the way because I needed to save my battery and the signal was iffy much of the way. All that positive energy really prevented me from falling into a deep funk of disappointment. Thank you.
I woke up just as we got back to Council Bluffs and directed Lisa to where my truck was parked. She was worried about me driving a couple of miles to our nearby hotel, but I managed. Driving was much easier than my shuffle to the hotel elevator. And I've never been happier to learn that my room was only a few feet from the elevator.
After peeling off my disgusting clothes and shoes, I took one of the best showers of my entire life. I definitely had some chafing and soreness, but it wasn't too bad. I had big blisters between my big and second toes on each foot, but they didn't pop and didn't hurt. Same for the small blisters on the end of my pinky toes.
All things considered, I actually felt pretty good. I felt a lot worse after my first half marathon. I guess my body is getting used to the longer distances. It only took two or three days until I had no soreness anywhere.
I think the best lesson I learned on this was that I am a quitter. I needed to be knocked down a bit. I've always said, "I don't quit". On that day, I found my limit and did quit. Now that I crossed that line, I can build from there.
I haven't decided when, but I will make another attempt, capitalizing on the things I learned on the first attempt. Next time this "bib" will be filled out completely.
