I Should Have Skipped That In Person Race

Last week I wrote about how I was going to be doing my first in person race since the pandemic started. I did it, and I am here to tell you all about it.

The race is called the Beulah 963. As I said last week, the 963 was for 9 hours, 6 hours or 3 hours. I signed up for 3 hours. So Saturday came, and luckily my day was filled with activities. I had stuff to do in the morning, my son had a basketball clinic, we did a father daughter dance at my house and we all had dinner together. Before I knew it, it was already 8pm, and I had to get ready, my race started at 9pm. So I bundled up big time. It was nice and cold in Saint Louis, and at around 6pm, it started to flurry. The flurrying continued into the evening, stopping at around 10:30pm. Luckily I know how to dress properly for this weather while running, so bundling was of no concern. As I was driving to the spot, the snow kept coming down, and the temperature reader in my car kept dipping. By the time I parked, the snow was like rain, and the temperature was in the mid teens. I got out of my car, put on my hydration pack, put on my light up vest, then my balaclava and head lamp and made my way to pick up my bib. As I walked to the barn, I felt okay. I had that usual pre race adrenaline I have come to know well, and I felt like I had just enough clothes on to stay warm throughout the race. I signed in, got my bib and got ready. The race director gave us a little speech, and we were off.

This is where it all turned to shit, at least for me. As I mentioned, it was snowing when I got there. The trail we were on is very rocky and very slippery even when it is beautiful outside. The snow made this trail feel like an ice rink. On the very first turn, not even a quarter of a mile in, I slipped and landed pretty hard on my back. I am used to this, so I popped up pretty quick, assured the three people around me I was okay, and proceeded to run. No less than another tenth of a mile, and I slipped again, this time hitting my back on the side of a rock. Again I gathered myself, took a deep breath and made a go of it. As I got moving again, I knew something was wrong. The pain was not just going away like it normally does. I had this constant feeling like my back had a heartbeat, and it felt like the discs were moving. I have felt this before, and it usually goes away rather quick, but not on Saturday night. I kept at it for a few reasons. I had just started, I wanted to do this, I still felt like I could run and I am not a quitter. So off I went. Every step hurt, but it wasn't any type of pain that I haven't run through before. And I finally found some solid ground, at least I thought. I was able to go for about a mile and a half straight without falling, and I got my pace back to what I was expecting. My back hurt, but getting caught up made me feel okay.

Then I slipped again, and again and about eight more times on that first loop. I was getting rather frustrated, and I had some thoughts of calling it after one loop. But, like a beacon, I saw a straight, flat path covered in leaves that led to the end of the loop. I got going again, and made my way, about a mile, to the barn where we started. I slowed to a walk, they had to punch a hole in your bib to mark your laps, and they asked if I was going out again. Reluctantly, I said yes. There were a few people behind me that were complaining like me about the condition of the trail. But when they opted to go again, that gave me the push I thought I needed. So I went on, this time trying to be extra cautious.

I did not fall after a quarter of a mile this time, but the trail was very slick, slicker than my first lap. Even with the snow fall stopping, the temperature kept dropping, and this made the rocks slick, and the terrain very slick. I was running very, very slow. This didn't seem to matter, I kept slipping. I wasn't falling, but I was slipping, and with every slip, a sharp pain shot down my back and through my hips. I got to a very rocky portion, and I stopped running all together and just walked, watching every single step. I had a few people behind me doing the same. We would tell each other where it was slick, but it didn't seem to matter. We were sliding all over the place.

I decided right then and there that this was my last lap. I was only going to be physically able to do two. I was fine with this, but it is kind of crushing when you make this realization at races. I was slipping and sliding so much that I decided it would be best to walk, or to jog extremely slow. I kept at this for a while, but my pace of 13 minutes a mile quickly shot up to 17 and 18 minutes. Not to worry I thought, there was only two more miles.

Well, I was wrong. It just got slicker and worse. I fell off the trail twice, once tumbling over. I slipped and had to hug a tree to not fall. I fell once on my face, picked up a chunk of snow, chucked it and cursed as loud as I could. Finally I got near the end and just decided I had to walk. No more running or jogging or even hiking. It was just a walk. I was still slipping and sliding, but along with two other people, we walked our way to the finish, said we were done, said goodbye and made our way to our cars.

As I walked to my car I noticed a few things. One, my headlamp froze to my balaclava. Two, my sweatshirt sleeves were frozen. Three, taking off my pack did nothing to help my back. Four, I felt almost delirious. It was just a myriad of problems. Once I got to my car I took all my gear off and blasted the heat. When I got moving on the road I felt okay. I was tired, but didn't feel overly cold, and while my back still hurt, I realized it was just sore, and I was not injured. When I got home I felt something I never have before. When I turned the car off, and got out to get my things and go inside, I started to shiver violently, and I couldn't stop. I got in my house and immediately stripped off all my clothes, but that did not help much. I was shivering so hard I couldn't even get my contacts out. I had to wake up my wife and get her help. After she did this for me, she is the best, I got into a hot shower and just let the water rain over me. I finally stopped shivering about five minutes into my shower. After I got cleaned up, and put on very comfy clothes for bed, I realized I didn't have enough fuel during the race. My pack froze and so did my gummies. So when the pack thawed, I drank a ton of my Tailwinds. I then ate a muffin and an entire bag of gummy bears. I then drank a Spindrift, and another 16 ounces of water, and I finally felt okay. This all happened at 12:30am by the way.

In the end, I have more mixed feelings than before about this race. I felt very safe COVID wise, but the terrain was horrifying. The people I met were very cool, but I have never been that cold before. Then the back and hip stuff. Add on the fact that I only did two laps. Then we have the frustration I felt for two straight hours. I mean, I'm glad I finally got to do an in person race, but I do not know that I will ever do this particular one again, or any night race for that matter. There were far too many cons than there were pros. I'm happy that people had enough sense to follow the rules and new safety protocols , but the during and after effects, I just do not think it was worth it.

Anyway, that is my story of my first in person race in 10 months. Take it as you will.

Ty

Ty is the Pop Culture editor for SeedSing and the other host of the X Millennial Man Podcast.

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