Determination, Decisions, and Disappointment

First and foremost, a solid thanks to those who have donated recently:

-Jen Carius
-Lance Mogard
-Rebecca Johnson
-Bob and Amy Martin
-Tom O'Connor
-Al Church
-Will Smith
-Jennifer Tedder
-Dan and Katy Rendleman

aaaaaand, Jon and Rebecca Duncan (AGAIN!)

also, sending in some cash donations, the total should be up to $4,276! Phenomenal!

So, moving on to the actual race. Long story short, no, I did not complete the LOST 118-mile Endurance Run. It was an extremely trying run, one in which I thought I was prepared for. The following recounts most of the 16-or-so hours I was out moving along the Lake Okeechobee Scenic Trail:

The start time was at 6:00 am, and I began slow and steady with the rest of the runners into a dense fog in the darkness. It was exciting to finally get underway, and I was making sure to hydrate and pace myself. After I reached the first checkpoint, the fog began to lift somewhat and we were able to see all of the lake. I cannot describe how expansive Lake Okeechobee truly is. It looks like an ocean. You cannot see to the other sides of it, and it simply stretches on for miles on end. However, running along it, it really is incredible. With all of the wildlife, it is almost like running in a mini-safari.

The day quickly got hot, however. I don't know precisely what the temperatures were like, but the predictions had a high of 87 with approximately 80-90% humidity. Not kind. Nevertheless, my support crew (consisting of my Mom and my fiancee, Erin) was nothing short of amazing. They had me in and out of aid stations within 2 minutes, stocked with ice cold water, gatorade, gum, and anything else I needed. I had the opportunity to run with Erin a few times, and that was great.

Problematic about the Lake Okeechobee area at this time of year are the fires. They come either from wildfires, or are controlled burnings of crops. Some of these were extremely close to the trail, which made the 80-degree temps feel even hotter. At one point, I thought I was coming up to swarms of bugs, but it turned out to be floating pieces of ash about an inch long that I ran through for about probably about 2 miles. Kind of surreal.

To do this chronologically, here's how it went:

6:00 am - Start at Okee-Tanti Campground. Move along the trail in darkness, plodding along with the other runners. There is a certain tentative feeling amongst everyone. It is hard knowing that the minutes are really so small in terms of this race, and that each one is only as important as it successfully leads to the next. The fog kept visability to about 20 feet.


7:35 am - Indian Prarie Canal. First aid stop. Fun to see my support crew, who are cheering wildly. I'm feeling good and like I restrained myself at a good pace to keep pressing on (I was doing about 9:30/mile). Been taking in a bit of water and a Clif Shot gel. Heading off to the next stop, the fog drifted away, and you're able to see the lake a lot better. To my left, swamp and abyss, to my right, a couple of houses, lots of cattle running towards breakfast (fun to watch), and at least one dead alligator being picked apart by birds. Total Distance = 10 miles

9:42 am - I arrived at the Harney Pond aid station, refueled, and set out on another little jaunt. It was pretty brief, and I simply took in more of the scenery. Total distance = 23 miles

11:05 am - Arrived at the C-41 canal. Here the sun was getting high in the sky, and I was slathering on the sun screen as best I could to avoid getting burned. Although I had not trained in sunglasses, I was very glad, and very fortunate, to have them. Same goes for my hat. I ran near a large fire, got some ash on me, and saw a few more alligators. With the sun getting higher, and the visibility getting farther, I could see how this was going to be a little bit difficult. Total distance = 29 miles

11:45 am - Arrived at Moore Haven. I passed within about 200 feet of a large fire in a field, and the heat did seem to turn up a bit. Arriving at the aid station, ice chips, a frozen wash cloth, and dunking my hat in ice were a welcome relief. Erin escorted me over the extremely large Moore Haven bridge, and I continued on the levee from there. Total distance = 33.4 miles

1:00 pm - Arrive at "Joe's Fish Camp"... yes, you heard me right. This is a landmark at Lake Okeechobee. This was one of the harder legs for me early on. 7.6 miles total. I tried using my camelbak with my iPod to help me along. Had a couple of longer walking breaks. The boats zipping by me with fishermen swigging beer were, to say the least, unwelcome. One of the more interesting parts about this was the development of pseudo-mirages. Unlike the beginning of the LOST trail, which was dirt and rocks, the rest was paved, making it all the more hot and lending itself to those wavy illusions of whether or not you are seeing reality. For instance, I could barely make out a runner ahead of me, looking like a small toothpick in the distance, but still within sight. When I got to the next aid station, I discovered she was about 17 minutes and 2 miles ahead of me. Hooray for motivation. Total distance = 41 miles

2:08 pm - Arrive at Clewiston. A bit of welcome relief with the simulatenous arrival of my aunt and cousins. As many ultrarunners will know, distance can make you crave strange things. For me, it was Jelly Belly's. I asked Erin to get a bag and give me only the fruit flavors ("buttered popcorn" flavor... not smart). More ice, more sun screen, and more ice. Leaving there was one of the harder portions of the run. I had to exit the levee, go into town to go around a 100-foot portion that was blocked off for a water lock control by the Army (thank you Corps of Engineers), and get back on the levee again. All this while running by a cemetary no less. Total distance covered = 46.6 miles.

3:30 pm - I arrived at the S-236 pump house. I was not doing as well as I would like to. I could distinctly make out the red Cadillac SUV my mom had rented in the distance, and when I finally arrived, it had taken me nearly 30 minutes to get there. Objects in the distance just never seemed to get any nearer. This is not the best of circumstance for distance running. Total distance = 50.7 miles

5:50 pm - After a midway-stop at John Stretch Park, I had picked up a fellow LOST-runner and we had been pushing on together as we went. Oliver Lau was a great addition to boost my confidence and energy levels again. This German wunder-runner had done a 212-kilometer run amongst his other feats, and ones that were way more challenging than this. To top it off, at John Stretch Park, he chugged a beer to help him "deal with the pain" he was having in his legs. If you need a better confidence booster than this guy, I can't help you. We reached the South Bay point as the sun was beginning to set. It was good for me to take my mind off of things with the conversation. Very good. Total Distance = 59.8 miles

7:12 pm - Oliver and I arrived at Paul Rardin Park. It was an interesting jaunt to get there. Along the way, we had to make several small detours off the levee to get around construction. The detours only took about 1/2 mile or so, but when your staring down this kind of length, that is a huge distance. About half-way through, the sky went black, and the stars came out. Coming from Washington, D.C., this sky was epic. We could see everything. Talk continued regarding language barriers (there is a german word for the "ultimate comfort" that is was directly adopted by the English language because there was no way to translate it properly). At Paul Rardin, Erin had to elevate my legs as I lay on my back. This was crucial because my body was starting to have serious issues. The blood essentially starts pooling in my legs, and none is really going to my midsection (including stomach). This was not good, and would serve to be problematic soon enough. After a 20 minute-or-so break, we were on the road (err, trail) again. Total distance = 68.4 miles

9:30 - Oliver and I were told this leg would be four miles. False. We did about four miles, in pure darkness. Heard some alligators roaring and hissing around us. Ran past another construction site, with a contracted security guard eating a burrito and watching telemundo. Jealously runs deep, even through a delirious body.

Total distance believed to be covered = 76-80 miles

The distance at this point is obviously wrong, and throughout the entire day, it was difficult to determine whether or not the "measured" distances were at all accurate. This was the worst part of all. When you are told it should be 4 miles, you have run nearly 70 miles, and it is pitch black outside, an extra quarter-mile, much more an extra 2 or 3, is devestating. I cannot possibly explain it.

When I got to this point (checkpoint "Pahokee"), both Oliver Lau and I decided to jointly throw in the towel. The reason: I couldn't eat or drink anymore. The blood just wasn't going to my stomach, wouldn't take in any of the water or food I needed, and so that food just sat, with nowhere to go. Moments after I decided to quit, on came the dry heaves. No fun at all.

As we drove home, I talked as if I were heavily intoxicated. My speech was slurred, delirious, and constantly changing volume. Lots of fun.

It was a good decision to put an end to the race for me. Upcoming legs were up to 10 miles in length, with no access to aid in between the stations. Any problems could immediately become emergencies, in the dark, without any real help. If I was half way through a 10-mile portion, and I had problems, Erin would have to run 5 miles just to get to me, and then get me to an aid station. It simply was not sound to continue.



Looking back, I would have trained much more for walking and eating than I did. I must say that overall, while I am disappointed, I am nevertheless proud that I did push my mileage max far above my previous 50-mile record, so I'm proud of that. In the end though, pride bowed before a smart decision. I feel I made the right decision, and I will gladly live with it. In the words of John "the Penguin" Bingham: "it's not that I had the strength to finish, but that I had the courage to start."


I thank each and every person who donated money, spread the word, and learned about the charities I'm supporting. With the money we've raised, military families could spend over 400 nights at Fisher House temporary homes FOR FREE. I'll sleep comfortably, though somewhat sore, on that note. You all should too.


Thank you all for your help.

Just a few days left....

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First, as always, a thanks to those who have donated recently (with witty quips for each one):
- CASEY ROEDER (soon-to-be cousin-in-law)
- Dan Murphy (Chi Phi is forever etched in my memories...)
- Mallory Pelletier (the gatekeeper to the office)
- Catherine Shaw (got me an interview!)
- Igor Kheyfets (SAS extraordinaire... 'tis a skill I never hope to possess)
- Mark Collins, Jr. (forever "livin' the dream")
- Mary Harrington (forever a family friend)
- Emily Becker (crew bows before running)
- Leslie Evertz (providing my daily sugar-rush... which I actually provide... wait...)

aaaaand ERIN MARTIN (my massage therapist, my cheerleader, my fiancee, my love)

We're now up to $3,320!!!! That's awesome! According to Fisher House statistics, that would provide for about 330 days of free stays for military families at Fisher Houses across the country while their loved ones receive medical treatment. That's nearly a year of free stays for them!!!! THANKS EVERYONE!

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So now we are just days away. 3 days in fact. Well, actually 61 hours, 41 minutes, and 20 seconds (according to the official countdown clock on the race website). Gulp. Tapering has, in fact, been rather arduous for me. I am not good at winding down, resting, and relaxing with stuff coming up. I want to get it done with. And of all the ironies, as I was doing a short 4.5 miles on Saturday, my hip really started hurting. Right where the femur meets the pelvis. Kind of a grinding feeling. On top of that, I am guessing I might have a slight hairline fracture or a severe bone bruise in my left foot. It hurts a lot when I move my big toe, and is kind of a dull pain when running. But alas, nothing can be perfect all the time. In spite of this, I took an extra day of doing nothing, have done 2 runs this week of 6.5 miles apiece, and I'm feeling better. We'll just have to wait and see how it goes.

As I mentioned briefly above, I must give props to Cat Shaw for providing me with an interview this week. Lelia Crosby is writing a piece on me that will hopefully/definitely be published (look for it in Time, Newsweek, the Washington Post, and every hometown paper from here to L.A.). If it gets published, it should be fun. Most importantly, fingers are crossed that it gets more donations going into the Fisher House and Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund. Regardless, it's fun to have a chance to have people hear about my running and the charity.

Tomorrow morning, Erin and I will fly down to Tampa Bay to meet up with my Mom, than drive out to Okeechobee to stay a couple of nights before the race begins. I'm going to have a solid sleep tomorrow night (2 nights before the race is most important). Generally, I sleep a solid 10+ hours 2 nights before, then usually get only about 3-4 hours of sleep the night before. It's just really hard when you're nervous and anxious as I am.

So that's where I am. Tomorrow's flight will include me trying to get through security with a large bag of powder (HEED sports drink mix - kind of like gatorade), 20 gel packets (Clif Shot gels), and 12 bags of little gel-like cubes (Clif Shot Blocks)... we'll see how that goes over. Always keeping a smile on my face, though.... what else can you do?

Here's one last hope for a "left foot, right foot, repeat" for 118-miles. I'll let you all know how I did as soon as I can. Thanks again for the support, best wishes, and donations.


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