|the volcano abides.|
"not so great. i had to drop down to the marathon distance."
"um...there's no marathon distance at white river."
"now you tell me..."
some days you're the wind shield. some days you're the guy who starts his race report with a metaphor.
today, i'm that guy.
the stomach trouble started very early (mile 15), and i decided it was because i downed a gel at about mile 13. i've sworn off gels, mostly, on the theory that they make me want to puke.
still, feeling a little depleted by the long first climb at white river, surely i could get away with one harmless huma.
by the time i got to the corral pass aid station (mile 16.9) i was in full-on damage control mode.
fuel levels: bad.
running form: bad.
overall status: bad.
i ate as much real food as i could handle at the AS, telling myself it would flip me upright over the next couple miles. that the bad was temporary and the good was still ahead. that soon i would be floating along in the zone whilst the miles flew by.
the next 11 miles were an exercise in almost-but-not-quite puking, nearly tripping over all the rocks and roots, and a shameful failure to enjoy a perfect running day.
but the first 15 miles, man...the course was spectacular, temperatures were in the 60s, and i was cruising along easily with friends. life was good.
question without an answer: why was i carrying gels at all?
answer: because i'm an idiot (how 'bout that, there was an answer after all).
by the time i got to the aid station at buck creek (mile 27.2), there was no question what would happen next. spotting some nice people around a clip board, i walked over and said, "i resign."
i must've looked pretty sour, because none of them tried to talk me out of it.
and just like that, i registered my first DNF.
over the next several minutes i walked back to my car, cleaned myself up, and changed clothes.
not long after that my friend ian and i plopped ourselves down in chairs by the finish line and waited to cheer on our friends.
eventually this bad day became a good day because lots of our friends were running and all of them finished.
in the big scheme of things, that's all that matters (well, that, and "NO MORE GELS EVER").
white river 50 mile
pearl-izumi trail n2, v3
song stuck in my head while i was still feeling good:
"when i stop dreaming" ~ don henley