I ran the TRT 50K last weekend. It was a slightly strange, staccato few days. Every time the weekend felt like it was about to cohere, the flow was interrupted. In the end, it felt like several different events in one. So rather than try to tease out a narrative thread, I thought I’d simply rope off my jumble of thoughts, occurrences and impressions into broad categories. This approach turns out to be more or less chronological anyway.
The Good
By far, the best thing about the weekend was the chance to spend a bit of time with several of the ultrarunners I most like and admire. I wouldn’t have made the trip if that opportunity had not been there, and the fact that it was ensured the trip would be well worth the while. (It might also be worth noting that I”m using this forum today for a more conventional race report than is my habit in large part because I wasn’t able to sync up with my heroes nearly as much as I would have liked and want them to know what I was up to out there.)
The race itself is terrific. From the course to the organization to the people, I loved everything about it. If you’re already putting pencil to your 2011 race calendar and have a slot open for a beautiful, challenging, and rewarding 50K, 50M, or 100M in July, it would be hard to beat this one.
I came out of the weekend uninjured: no new injury and no aggravation of anything old. In fact, a few days later I feel better than I have at any time since the second before I wrecked my ankle two months ago. That is no small relief.
Mixing The Good With The Bad
Due to my injury streak, I had not put two “plus” weeks of training together back-to-back since April. The last half of June was particularly bad as I endured a very nasty relapse of the back trouble that ruined the first part of the year. As recently as two weeks before TRT, I was still getting very scary warning spasms whenever I hopped up or off a small obstacle, or caught a toe during short trail runs. A week before TRT, I took my body for one final test drive over a challenging, technical 3.5 hour run. I didn’t feel strong and my back felt pretty vulnerable at the end, but, overall, I felt far better than I thought I would even a week earlier. So, heading into TRT, I didn’t have much fitness but felt pretty sure I wasn’t being completely stupid about my back. Slow-and-mellow was my mantra.
With all this in mind, I made sure I was well toward the back of the line when we hit singletrack five or ten minutes into the run. That meant I hiked nearly the entire few-mile climb until the short descent to Marlette Lake. The pace through this section would usually have left me agitated, but an extra silky warmup was just right on this particular day. Then, from the time the route left singletrack at Marlette Lake until Tunnel Creek, I was able to find a pace that was still well within my mellow zone but a little less hiker-y. I felt really good and the view from Marlette Peak was even better than advertised. An added bonus at the end of this stretch was crossing paths with Gretchen as she was finishing her first Red House lap. That particular moment stands out as the one where I was most happy to be where I was, doing what I was doing.
My game plan for the Red House loop was to take it even easier. Reading reports by Gretchen and others left me with the impression that Red House is a section where flow goes to die, plus my back is put at most risk by steep hills — the stabilization required by going down and the full body effort required by going up. So that’s what I did and it went pretty much to plan: I did lose all sense of flow but didn’t burn many matches or tweak my back getting around the loop.
The next sub-goal, for the section from Tunnel Creek to Snow Valley Peak, was simply to stay fueled-and-hydrated and slow-and-mellow while trying to get back some rhythm. Within about a mile of leaving Tunnel Creek I began to feel pretty good, but on the descent down to the Hobart aid station, my back started to shoot sparks. I was already afraid of the long descent from Snow Valley to the finish and had resolved to drop at the first serious warning signals from my body rather than risk a setback that would cost me weeks … again. Based on what (little) I knew about the two aid stations, I calculated that Hobart was probably my last best chance to err on the side of being conservative. As it turns out, the volunteers acted perfectly when I told them my thinking: they weren’t going to berate me if I dropped but they weren’t going to make it easy either. I caught more good luck when the spasms gradually calmed down after laying flat on my back for awhile in the medical tent. So I decided to continue. The back spasms would eventually return, but without much intensity.
The Ugly
I gradually, progressively felt better on the climb from Hobart to Snow Valley Peak. My back remained fully cooperative and I had decent energy until about the last mile before the aid station. At that point, my stomach started to get seriously sour. This has been a recurrent theme for me in ultra-length events. And I mean every ultra-distant event, running or cycling. Sure, I’ve had plenty of bad days less than 5 hours long, but I can’t recall a single time I’ve gone over 5 hours that didn’t end with a sick stomach. The only question is how sick. I’ve tried a variety of ordinary and engineered foods, but without much luck. The discomfort and even the puking aren’t necessarily the end of the world. But the hard bonk and hours of post-event nausea and dizziness that are frequent accompaniments pretty much suck the fun out of an otherwise perfectly good suffer session.
Anyway, within a mile of starting the long downhill from Snow Valley Peak, the jostling turned my iffy stomach completely against me. I tried to move smoothly and quit consuming anything but water to try to let my stomach settle a bit. Nothing. The only things that helped, slightly, were to puke and to walk. So that’s what I did, the rest of the way in. And, yes, I mean both puking and walking. In fact, I stopped walking at the finish line but didn’t stop puking at semi-regular intervals for another seven hours.
Resting my psoas at the finishing tent.
The cup I’m holding came in mighty handy on the drive back to the hotel.
Photo: Donald (one of the three extra-welcome friendly faces at the finish)
All in all, I figure I lost around an hour and a half to my back and stomach on top of an already geared-down pace. The silver lining of having to go even slower than I thought I’d have to is the bit I mentioned earlier about my back, ankle and legs feeling better now than before the race. Was it a success? As a weekend, no doubt. As a run, I’m still not sure whether the lesson is that I need to be more systematic about solving the nutrition riddle or that I should accept what seems to be my natural “happy zone” of runs 2-4 hours long with a soft cap of about 5 hours.
On that note, a plea: seasoned ultrarunners who have run the nutrition gauntlet and eventually solved it, I’m begging you to comment with advice.
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Aw Stac, I’m so glad you came out for the weekend!! For sure seeing you at Red House was the high point of the day, but I guess you already know that. I’m glad you didn’t further any injuries, too. I was kind of worried about that.
As far as the nutrition, when my stomach gets icky electrolyte caps usually help. It seems weird, but for me I think it’s a sign that I’m down on my salt, even if I think I’ve been getting plenty through food and beverage. I took more salt caps last weekend than I ever have. I think the heat, dryness and altitude kick things up a notch. Also I’d say don’t go for any long periods (more than 40 minutes) without eating something. Little bits of food all day. I’m guessing you probably already do that though.
Puking sucks, huh?
Thanks for writing the report. I was wondering how it went. Can’t wait to see you again!
Rut row, Stacy, I’m sure sad to read about the lengthy vomiting nastiness! I knew when you walked away from the finish line in your depleted state that you weren’t going to be coming back, so no worries!
I had a great time hanging out with you on Friday night, and I’m elated to hear that your back held up for you for the 50k distance.
I’d say your stomach solution is out there, you just gotta keep playing around till you find it. It’s tough, though, if you aren’t getting into that distance/length of time where your stomach sours in training, because then you can only practice at a race.
Can I ask what your puke looked like? Was is the food you were eating, or liquid? Did it change over the course of the day? What was in your puke might be a clue as to what your body was rejecting…
You made it 50K! That’s great! And, I’m so glad you are, physically, no worse for the wear. A very good thing
I certainly don’t consider myself a “seasoned” ultrarunner, but I have some input. I used to get a little pukey during races when I first started ultrarunning and I was eating from aid stations (i.e. a lot of unnecessary sugar and heavy solid foods). Then someone suggested “going liquid” as an alternative. I’ve since run all my races and long runs drinking Perpetuem (cafe latte flavor, yum) and getting a few extra calories from one gel per hour (or some shot bloks). I also am RELIGIOUS with the salt. At points when I’ve been running at night during a race and got a little pukey feeling from not changing my intake to match my reduced effort, I pop Ginger Chews. Those really seem to do the trick and neutralize things.
Of course, your mileage may vary! I’ve also been reading about others who swear by Chia seeds. Not sure about the theory behind those, but I do know peeps turn to those for stomach issues during endurance races. Could be worth some research and experimentation.
I’m wondering if since you can pinpoint a specific time (5 hours) for when your stomach goes from good to bad, is it a hydration/electrolyte issue? Do you track your water and salt intake during these long efforts, or are you kinda willy nilly about it? Dehydration, or equally as bad, over-hydration and underconsumption of electrolytes, can lead to a very nasty stomach among other things.
Like Meghan said, experiment!
I’m with the others – a bit more trial and error should help you figure out a solution. Electrolytes and salt are definitely a good idea, and maybe something like CLIF bloks or GU chomps would be a good texture between gels and solid food. Keep trying, dude – you’ll figure something out. Like Mulder and Scully said – the answer is out there.
It was really awesome to see you in Tahoe, and I wish your race had gone better, but it’s good to hear you still consider the weekend well spent. We’ll have to do it again sometime – hopefully without quite so much puking.
Okay, thanks for the thoughts. This is good. More information …
My TRT plan, which I stuck to pretty well, was to go almost completely liquid, running nutrition in one 22 oz. bottle (a total of 4 packets of Perpetuem, about 1,100 calories if I remember correctly, and 2 packets of Heed), and plain water in the other. That was my base, which I supplemented at the aid stations with salt tablets and a bit of additional food and drink, basically a handful each of banana bites and orange slices, and some Coke. I don’t remember for sure, but I don’t think I had anything else (i.e. sandwich, broth, etc).
I based my hydration and electrolyte plan on the weather forecast from a few days early, which I think threw things off a bit: I was planning on temps in the 60s and 70s and it felt more like 70s and 80s. I didn’t feel like I was really rationing until the last couple of hours, but I would estimate I probably took in about 6-8 oz too little water per hour even ‘camel-ing up’ a bit at the aid stations. I can only recall taking 4-5 salt tabs all day, which could easily have been the problem. I’ve not used them a lot, probably a half dozen times total, and only ever had one noteworthy experience either way, and it was noteworthy on the bad side. (A super hot day in Zion this year — the last time I got really sick and stayed really sick for hours after the run ended.)
A few times, including Saturday, it has actually felt more like motion sickness than something I have eaten or not. So while I did puke a couple of times toward the end of the run, I felt okay afterward until I started driving. Then I felt lousy again. Once I get to this point, nothing stays down, not even water, which makes it really hard to get recovery going. Once I’m able post-run, I basically nurse broth, sprite, saltines/bread and hope 1/4 of it is staying down with each round.
In reflecting on it further against your comments, I’m starting to suspect my biggest problem is dehydration and/or electrolytes. I’m going to experiment more with S! Caps next. We’ll see.
Yes to the S!Caps! I would recommend e-mailing Karl King (the dude behind S!Caps) for tips on getting your electrolyte balance corrected. He can help you get it roughly figured out based on your sweat rate, weight and exertion; all those factors dictate what your intake should be ideally. I corresponded with him before starting taking electrolytes and I’ve had much success based on his recommendations.
For reference, on a very ideal weather day in the 50s-60s I take one S!Cap per hour to start, then take cues from my stomach and hands (looking for swelling) to determine if I need to back off or take them more frequently. On hot, and, especially, humid days I take one capsule every 30-45 minutes since my sweat rate increases a good deal. I am a light sweater in general, though.
You may have been experiencing hyponatremia to some extent, if you were getting an inordinant amount of liquids versus electrolytes. That would certainly give you that ‘motion sickness’ feeling from what I’ve read.