This was my first time to run 50 miles or run in the dark and it was an awesome experience. The first few miles I was just hoping to warm up and not get eaten by one of the local yard dogs. I then noticed a group of flashlights ahead of be, but one way in the front all by itself. I jokingly wondered to myself if someone thought they had signed up for the Cassoday 10-K or if someone was riding a bike and just teasing all of us.
My attention quickly went to my lower back because my shirt was creeping up and my fuel belt was beginning to rub. I had learned the hard way on some training runs to immediately fix any rubbing feeling and not just ignore it. I know they said "rubbing is racing" in the movie Days of Thunder, but that only applies to NASCAR. I took my gloves (which were actually socks because I didn't bring gloves) off and started to mess with tucking in my shirt while holding my flashlight in my mouth. When I went to put my "gloves" back on I noticed one was missing. I then had to do my best Michael Jackson impersonation and just wear one glove until it warmed up.
I went past the first aid station feeling great and didn't feel I needed to stop. I really hadn't drank much because of the chilly weather. At the second manned aid station I ran into one of the guys that was about 5 or 6 minutes ahead of me. He had changed out of pants and long sleeves to the opposite wear. I had come into the aid station with a man that resembled a young Grizzly Adams and he was taking longer than I was, so I grabbed a few pretzels and headed off right behind the man that was so far ahead of me earlier. We were going at a pretty good pace, but I am a big fan of biting off more than I can chew and having my ol'buddy Hind Sight tell me all about it later. The man slowly pulled away from me. Somewhere between here and the 1/2 way mark two deer jumped the fence from my right and landed about 20 feet in front of me. It almost seemed as if I could reach out and touch them. They then quickly jumped over the fence to my left and leaped off into the pasture. It was a beautiful moment I will never forget.
I was coming up to the next aid station and knew from the map that the turn around would be right after the aid station, so I was just going to turn around and hit the aid station on the way back. A lady had told me it was just a little way down the road, but the guy I was trying to keep up with was long gone. I wondered how far could it possibly be? Then I saw a small sign and flour on the road that showed me to turn around. Where was the other guy going? OH MY GOSH! HE'S IN THE 100 MILE RACE! That's all I could think. When I got to the aid station they said that someone else was even further up than him. So now I know where the 10-K guy had gone. Stopping at this aid station made me realize I was starting to hurt. I had only had a few pretzels and 3 GU's. I still have to learn to eat on the run. My stomach just doesn't want it. This is also all I really had to eat on the way back.
I now realized that I was in 2nd place because some machine had already turned back when I was coming to the aid station. I started the trek back, but was quickly passed by Grizzly Adams who seemed to have taken crack or something at the aid station. All I had was an energy drink.
Then it happened. My ol'buddy Hind Sight paid me a little visit and wouldn't quit reminding me that he told me to slow down and walk some of the hills in the first half rather than run all of them. I told him I didn't have time and to come back later. With an evil laugh, he said okay. By this point I was in 5th and fading more and more by the mile. After the next aid station Hind Sight had officially jumped on my back, strapped himself on tight and was in for the long haul. My hamstrings and calves were tighter than my dad's wallet when I came home to "visit" during college.
I turned down a road and ran into young Grizzly Adams. He was standing there holding his legs. I looked down at his calf and it was cramping over and over. We talked for awhile and I shuffled off. He caught me after awhile and told me it might be easier if we ran together. I was ready for some conversation other than what Hind Sight had to say. We shuffled and walked for quite awhile and then he pointed out the water tower that was at the start/finish line. I was so excited, but after an hour or so realized that being able to see for miles and miles around us was beautiful and yet a terrible. I grew to have a sincere hatred for that water tower. It just kept teasing me. It honestly didn't seem to get closer until we were just a few miles away.
Eventually, we turned down the road that led to the highway and the finish line. We decided we would try to finish strong and actually run the last mile or so. By this point, I was humbled and had lost all sense of competetiveness. If not for Grizzly, I would not be almost done. A few feet before the finish line I politely stopped and let hime cross before me. He truly made the race for me and I owe him for it. He had said something too during the last few miles that I will never forget. "I don't run to compete anymore, I run to complete." Amen Grizzly. I truly didn't care if 20 people came sprinting past me at the end. I was going to shuffle across the line, kiss my wife and sit down.
I would like to thank my wife for all of her support. She sat at the start/finish line for the entire 8:16 I was out there. She is not good with directions and didn't want to get lost looking for an aid station, so she just sat and read magazines and books. She has also picked me up every Sunday from my long runs from my house to the Jenks Aquarium before church. I couldn't have done it without her and everyone else that prayed for me during the training. And as for Hind Sight, if you see him tell him I said hi