Single Track Frame of Mind: February 2014

I love this race. At least I think I love this race. I’m not sure how this race feels about me, though. I’m wondering if this relationship is healthy. I’m wondering if this relationship is abusive. You know the story: boy meets race, race beats the hell out of the boy on the first date, boy and race go on seven more dates…

Speaking of seven more dates, I really wasn’t going to write a race report for “Psycho” this year. I’ve run eight in a row and blogged about the last three (check ‘em out here à2011, 2012, 2013). Going into this year’s race, I felt as if I’d written ad nauseam about the terrain, the extreme weather, the elevation gain, and my time….I mean, what else could possibly be said? I guess I was taking it for granted. I knew it would be cold. I knew the terrain and footing would be horrible. I assumed I’d knock some more off my time. This would be “just another Psycho”. I should have known there’s no such thing. Even after eight years, you just can’t get complacent about the “Psycho”.

Two weeks before the race I had run a 1:40:00 loop on a dry & snow free course, killing every single up-hill. This was going to be the year I would break 6 hours. I felt strong. I felt ready. One week later I was sick as a dog. To make matters worse, Eastern Kansas got hammered with the biggest snow storm of the season the week of the race. If this were any other race, I would have taken a DNS, but I’m proud of my streak of consecutive finishes at what is arguably one of the toughest 50k's between the Appalachians and the Rockies. This was not going to be “just another psycho”. This one was going to demand more of me than any other…this one was going to hurt.

As always, it was great pre-race to visit with a ton of friends and runners I hadn’t seen in awhile. I was actually feeling less-sick than I had all week…but then Bad Ben said “go” and I realized that the race report could really be done in one sentence: “It all went to s#&t”. So, rather than giving a detailed narration of the 30 miles worth of frozen, agonizing, personal hell; how about a three loop summary and a picture report?

Loop One: Jaysus. The snow was sooo deep. We’d had snow as deep before (2011) but this was different. It was like running through loose sand. The realization that I was too sick to run hit me coming out of the Wyandotte Triangle. By the time I hit the boat yard I was having thoughts of dropping. I had a cold sweat, could hear my chest rasping, and the body aches were bad. I think I was also pushing too hard. I hit the main aid station in 2:29:00. I remember thinking “what the hell…that’s slower than my third loop last year!?!?....this isn’t even F#^&% worth it!” I was seriously evaluating how bad I wanted that streak to continue.

Loop Two: I’ve got to thank my buddy Travis Kierre for helping me get out on the 2^nd loop. He had his awesome skull balaclava on playing the part of the “Drop Reaper”. As he approached me I thought “don’t tempt me, man”. But the reaper helped! He reminded me that time didn’t matter today. “…just survive, dude…they’re dropping like flies already”. He was right, I just needed to re-focus, adjust my goals, and learn patience. Forget sub-6, (hell, forget sub 7) just focus on 8-straight. I stopped pushing and started feeling a little better… the loop was really slow.

Loop Three: The key here was getting out on that final loop. No screwin’ around in the aid station,…no thinking about it. Just put on a pair of dry gloves and get going. No matter how bad or sick I was feeling, I knew if I could just start the loop, I’d get #8. I was getting passed a lot at this point which is new for me. Typically in an ultra, I’m the one getting strong at the end and chasing down folks who started out too fast. I tried to ignore the passers and run within myself. I finished the run with a guy named Reid who had caught up with me toward the end of Fester’s Wander. He was a 1^st time 50k’er who I could tell was having a tough day, too. I guess misery really does love company since I enjoyed running with him. He reminded me of myself eight years ago when Psycho was my first ultra. Anyway, I was just glad it was the last loop. I was glad someone installed a fixed rope up the last little hill because I needed it. Finally, I ran down the “chute”, crossed the finish line, decided I do love this race, and finally started to feel a little better.

Huge thanks again to Bad Ben Holmes, the KC Trail Nerds, and all of the volunteers who braved the cold to put on another premier first-class event! I’m telling you, nobody does it better. Huge thanks to Rick & Kristi Mayo for the thousands of pictures, you guys do excellent work (and they run fast as hell, too!). Thanks to the DJ who froze his ass off so we could have music at the main aid station. A heart-felt thank-you to Travis Kierre for helping to get my ass moving when I was in a bad place. Thanks to Rick, Bryan, Reid, Kimberly, Eric, David, and everyone else with whom I shared the trail. One of the best things about our sport is meeting like-minded nut-jobs. As always, love and thanks to Jessica, Alyena, Ayden, & Tristyn; you guys are with me on every mile of every run!

Thanks for reading. See you out on the Trails! Now, the Pictures (thanks again to Rick & Kristi Mayo of mile 90 Photography for the pictures!)