But let's start from the beginning. Why the Rut Rogue 40-Miler? First, I thought the name was flat out awesome and it reminded me of Scooby Doo. Yep, a child's cartoon played a major role in my decision to register for the race. Don't judge. How do you chose races? Proximity? Reputation? Elites? If so, you are doing it all wrong.
Rut Rogue was set to be a "B" race for the year with 5 days of scheduled rest following 8 weeks of training. All was going as planned until Natalie came home with a cold. As with most things that don't go as planned, blaming problems on your spouse is a convenient way to go. I stand by that. By Wednesday, I knew I was getting sick. Thursday evening, I was sick. By Friday, I felt like death. It seemed like a great time to make a road trip for an ultra. Despite being ill, I mustered the strength to stop by Bruisin' Ales, Total Wine & More, and Beverage Outlet. I have priorities in life. My beer purchases included: 1) Allagash White, 2) Allagash Saison, 3) Allagash Midnight Brett, 4) Dogfish Head Rosabi, 5) Southern Tier Creme Brulee Stout, 6) Moonlight Meadery Kurt's Apple Pie, 7) Brasserie Dupot Posca Rustica, 8) Mikkeller Spontanframboos, 9) Hanssens Lambic Experimental Cassis, 10) Founders Big Lushious, 11) Boulevard Smokhouse Series Collaboration #4 Saison, 12) Schlossbrauerei Au-Hallertau PiwoGrodziskie-Gratzer Ale, 13) Stone Enjoy by 2-14-15, 14.) Anderson Valley Blood Orange Gose. Needless to say, by the time I reached Augusta, picked up my packet, and got food, I was exhausted and went to bed by 7pm in a NyQuil induced coma.
Race day morning required me awakening in a semi-stupor at 4:30am, and following GPS coordinates to the start. Since I was unfamiliar with the area, driving back roads at 5:30, and trying to follow a GPS, I was very appreciative of the fellow runner that tailgated me for 4 miles on the way to the race. The extra light in my rearview mirror greatly helped me speed along the roads.
My strategy for the race was simple. I was going to rely on my PEDs to get me through the first half of the race and hope to hang on for the second half of the race. I didn't read all the ingredients on the OTC meds, so I'm sure at least one WADA banned substance was consumed.
Despite my fear of being DQ'd if I was drug tested, I lined up for the start. I have a habit of hanging back for the first few miles and letting someone else dictate the pace till I figure out my day. On this day, no one seemed to want to take the lead, so I immediately took over at the start. My sinuses weren't draining too much, there was minimal coughing, and I was pretty much alone in the woods after the first mile.
Since I didn't have a crew, I made a decision to use two backpacks with my 2nd pack waiting at mile 17. Uneventful can describe the first 17 miles. I was unsure of my lead on my fellow runners but hadn't seen anyone for the previous 17 miles. My headache and sinus drainage was starting to creep back. However, I put on my big boy pants coming into mile 17 and acted like all was fine as I made quick work of switching out packs and was in/out in less than a minute. This was when the wheels started to fall off.
I was sick and completely not wanting to run any more coming into aid station #4 and mile 22. I took a ginger chew to settle down some slight feelings of nausea and kept plugging away. Unfortunately, my nausea kept getting worse, and I stopped eating. During my 5 miles of self-loathing, I managed to convince myself that I was in the midst of a 50-mile trail race. I'm not sure how. Especially since all the course markings clearly displayed the race distance. But that's ultrarunning for you.
My strategy for the race was simple. I was going to rely on my PEDs to get me through the first half of the race and hope to hang on for the second half of the race. I didn't read all the ingredients on the OTC meds, so I'm sure at least one WADA banned substance was consumed.
Despite my fear of being DQ'd if I was drug tested, I lined up for the start. I have a habit of hanging back for the first few miles and letting someone else dictate the pace till I figure out my day. On this day, no one seemed to want to take the lead, so I immediately took over at the start. My sinuses weren't draining too much, there was minimal coughing, and I was pretty much alone in the woods after the first mile.
Since I didn't have a crew, I made a decision to use two backpacks with my 2nd pack waiting at mile 17. Uneventful can describe the first 17 miles. I was unsure of my lead on my fellow runners but hadn't seen anyone for the previous 17 miles. My headache and sinus drainage was starting to creep back. However, I put on my big boy pants coming into mile 17 and acted like all was fine as I made quick work of switching out packs and was in/out in less than a minute. This was when the wheels started to fall off.
I was sick and completely not wanting to run any more coming into aid station #4 and mile 22. I took a ginger chew to settle down some slight feelings of nausea and kept plugging away. Unfortunately, my nausea kept getting worse, and I stopped eating. During my 5 miles of self-loathing, I managed to convince myself that I was in the midst of a 50-mile trail race. I'm not sure how. Especially since all the course markings clearly displayed the race distance. But that's ultrarunning for you.
I was ready to drop. I was done with the race. I could have given a flying rat's butt that I was in first. I was sick in Augusta, GA, no crew, no one was going to drive me back to the hotel (or 4.5 hours back home), and I was done. I half rolled into mile 27/aid station #5 and realized dropping here was not an option. I had to at least make it to mile 31.6 to drop out. The waves of nausea were overwhelming. I didn't want to vomit. I hadn't vomited in quite some time. But it was coming and it seemed in bad form to vomit at an aid station. I ran 1/2 mile and gave myself the pep talk, "Quit being a pussy, stick your finger down your throat, and get it over with." And there I was. Vomiting on the side of the trail with what I had convinced myself was 22 miles to go.
I thought of walking to aid station #6, but I realized it would just prolong my time on the trail. I wanted to be done. I couldn't handle another 22 miles. I just wanted someone/anyone to pass me so I didn't drop out of the race in the lead. I began running with some intention of just getting to the aid station as fast as I could to get out of the race. Finally, I made it to mile 31.6 and aid station #6 and was greeted to the words "You can do it! Only 8 miles to go!" Finally, I was snapped back into reality and had some fantastic moments of self-talk that involved several expletives and inner laughter. 8 miles? Heck, I could do just about anything for 8 miles. I reached into the backpack, grabbed a ginger chew and walked out of the aid station.
I walked for about 100 meters wondered why in the hell no one had passed me yet. At this point, I decided to giddy-up and try for a win. I gave myself one simple rule, no walking. So, I ran, jogged, and slogged 8 miles. After what seemed an eternity, the finish line finally came into sight. I looked over my shoulder to ensure no sprint was necessary and mustered my best "no problem, just out for a weekend jog" smile and went toward the finish.
That was it! 1st overall in 5:25:25! The Rut Rogue 40-Miler was a fantastic course. Smooth running surface, lots of those silly little berms that mountain bikers love so much. While I was concerned about course markings at the start of the race with both a 40k, 40-miler, and relay race going on at the same time with all different courses, it was well marked with only a couple of moments of confusion on my part. As in all cases, when you reach a junction and there is no sign, go straight and don't make a 90 degree turn for absolutely no reason. I enjoyed the great schwag bag including a seat cover, cool finishers award and chair with Rut Rogue embroidered on it.
I wanted to hang out and talk to everyone for a while after the race, but I simply wasn't up to it and headed back to the hotel for the dinner of champions:
In typical Brian fashion, the beer cost more than the pizza but was enjoyed despite the solid headache and runny nose. If you are looking far a race in February to escape the cold of northeast TN, I definitely recommend the Rug Rogue 40-Miler as a warm-up race for the spring ultra season.
Next Race: Thomas Jefferson 100k
I thought of walking to aid station #6, but I realized it would just prolong my time on the trail. I wanted to be done. I couldn't handle another 22 miles. I just wanted someone/anyone to pass me so I didn't drop out of the race in the lead. I began running with some intention of just getting to the aid station as fast as I could to get out of the race. Finally, I made it to mile 31.6 and aid station #6 and was greeted to the words "You can do it! Only 8 miles to go!" Finally, I was snapped back into reality and had some fantastic moments of self-talk that involved several expletives and inner laughter. 8 miles? Heck, I could do just about anything for 8 miles. I reached into the backpack, grabbed a ginger chew and walked out of the aid station.
I walked for about 100 meters wondered why in the hell no one had passed me yet. At this point, I decided to giddy-up and try for a win. I gave myself one simple rule, no walking. So, I ran, jogged, and slogged 8 miles. After what seemed an eternity, the finish line finally came into sight. I looked over my shoulder to ensure no sprint was necessary and mustered my best "no problem, just out for a weekend jog" smile and went toward the finish.
That was it! 1st overall in 5:25:25! The Rut Rogue 40-Miler was a fantastic course. Smooth running surface, lots of those silly little berms that mountain bikers love so much. While I was concerned about course markings at the start of the race with both a 40k, 40-miler, and relay race going on at the same time with all different courses, it was well marked with only a couple of moments of confusion on my part. As in all cases, when you reach a junction and there is no sign, go straight and don't make a 90 degree turn for absolutely no reason. I enjoyed the great schwag bag including a seat cover, cool finishers award and chair with Rut Rogue embroidered on it.
In typical Brian fashion, the beer cost more than the pizza but was enjoyed despite the solid headache and runny nose. If you are looking far a race in February to escape the cold of northeast TN, I definitely recommend the Rug Rogue 40-Miler as a warm-up race for the spring ultra season.
Next Race: Thomas Jefferson 100k
