Ravaged By The Beast

The Beast of Burden Summer 100 Ultra Marathon



The day started off innocently enough.  Baba and the Cannibal were happy to snag a picnic table in the shade right next to where we had parked our vehicles.

As it turned out, the shade by our picnic table was the last we would see for the day.

It is wide open along the canal. There are no overhanging trees to duck under or paths that lead you through the cool woods for awhile.  You are at the suns August mercy.

 Blisters, sun poisoning, dehydration, you name it, we got it.

But one of the nice things about an ultra is the social aspect.  You meet people from many walks of life.

At mile three we met Ali.

His philosophy on running was, "There is joy in movement".

His daily workout is to walk three miles, jog three miles and then run three miles.  By the time he has warmed up with the walk and the jog, he can't wait to run.  The joy of movement.



I wish we could have talked with more people along the way but unfortunately misery came pretty early at this one.


Still, when you're running a local race you can always count on your friends to convey those special messages to you, like Richard Clark did to Bob, when we ran into him at Gasport -  "Clyde says to tell you, you suck!"  What a great motivator that was.



Yes, we were ravaged by the beast on Saturday. 


Some days you get the beast and other days the beast gets you.


It had it's way with us on this one but redemption is just a run away, or as the Hashers would say, "On On".

Runner's Dementia

When the long run goes bad . . .

You've run so many miles that you're staggering like a drunk.  You're kicking your own ankles.  Your body is screaming "Stop!" but you still have many miles to go yet.

So you do the only thing you can, you hand the task over to your brain.  Time for the mental strength to kick in.

But what if the brain breaks down too?  Then what?

Brain splints, better known as Runner's Dementia sets in.  Hard as you try, you can't figure out how many miles you have left of a 20 miler when you're at mile 14 1/2.

Sure, the math seems simple now, but try it sometime when you're out there on the trail with Runner's Dementia.

Hallucinations, crying jags, peeing on yourself, it's happened to all serious distance runners at one time or another and by serious, I mean, "not normal".

It's nothing to be ashamed of.  Well, maybe the peeing on yourself part is, but overall, if you've experienced Runners Dementia it just means that you've pushed yourself past your limits.  And that takes courage.  It's not easy to be that stupid.

Loony the squirrel says - "The impossible is always possible when you're nuts."

Upcoming Races:

Harvest Moon Run - Wed. Sept. 8th, 6:30 p.m. Pendleton NY

Lighthouse Baptist 5k - Sat. Sept 11th, 2:00 p.m. North Tonawanda NY

Oil Creek 100 Trail Runs - Sat. Oct 16th, Oil Creek State Park PA

Dangling Participles

Which one of these sentences isn't a dangling participle?

A.  Doing a mating dance for all to see, Baba The Freak watched the ostriches.

B.  The Cannibal ran, eating up the feet on his path.

C.  After boiling eggs for the woman's club, Shiva the Destroyer chopped them into pieces.

The answer to the test is of course - B.  Everybody knows that the cannibal really does eat feet (but that doesn't necessarily make him a bad person).

Why do I ask and what does this have to do with running?

Distraction. 

Sometimes when  you are only on the second mile of a twenty two miler, and it's already going bad, you need to think about other things.

Some people do math in their head.  Others count their steps.  I like to dangle participles.

The point is, when the running gets tough, maybe you just need to stop thinking about running. 

This Weeks Local Races:

Best Of Eggertsville - June 22, Amherst NY
Run In the Mist - June 23,  Goat Island
APT Spring Into Summer - June 25, Lockport NY

Interesting Ultras:

Summer Beast Of Burden - August 21st, Lockport NY
Oil Creek 100 Trail Runs - October 16, Oil Creek PA

Links I Like:

Ships Cat
BP Coffee Spill

Putting the Beast to Bed

"There are two types of people in this world, good and bad. The good sleep better, but the bad seem to enjoy the waking hours much more." - Woody Allen

You've built a base, you've trained, you've tapered .  Now it's time to go to sleep.

Most normal adults need 7 - 8 hours of sleep a night to receive maximum benefits.  Mutants need only about 5 or 6 hours.

A good nights' sleep will reward you with sharper cognitive functions in the morning - decision making, reasoning and memory.  For the big race this translates into smarter running, knowing when to refuel and not getting lost.


So how do you go to sleep when you're all keyed up?

• Have a light snack - 1/2 a turkey or peanut butter sandwich with a glass of warm milk, perhaps.
• Get rid of all distractions.  Keep your bedroom dark and quiet.
• Shake out any lingering stress.  Toss the day's pressure out the window.

• Close your eyes and take deep, slow breaths.  Visualize how perfect tomorrow will be.

See you at the race.  Good night everybody.  Zzzzzzzzzzz . . . . .

Good Days, Bad Days, Marathon Training

Week Three

It is the end of week three in our marathon training. With the exception of this past Thursday, it has been going really well.

Thursday was our Speed Workout day.

It was 85 degrees out and all of the omens were screaming, "DON'T RUN!"

We got caught at every red light on the way to the run (and I do mean EVERY red light).

Don Paul was posting storm warnings up the butt, and when we finally arrived at our destination, we (he) realized we (he) had forgot the Garmin and we had to go back and get it.

But did we listen to the omens? Of course nut, I mean, not.

We started with a one mile warm up. It's kind of hard to have a bad warm-up, but I was off my game from the get-go. My legs felt like lead doing an 11:00 minute mile. Not good.

On to the next three miles - the fast ones - did I mention it was 85 degrees out?

The first fast mile was four seconds slower than it should have been. Nutjob not happy.

Midway into the second mile I was feeling hot, dizzy and needing to jump into a swimming pool very badly. If the pool had a wet bar, even better. I was sweating more profusely than Dr. Nutjob, and he's a pretty sweaty guy.

But he did not seem at all concerned with my worsening condition. What kind of a doctor was he, anyway? I was obviously suffering. My forehead was so hot you could have cooked hamburgers on it. Mmmm, hamburgers . . .

Anyway, by mile three,the fast run had turned considerably slower as my suffering grew worse - hot flashes, couldn't do simple math problems, forgot who our vice president was. Again, Dr. Nutjob not worried at all.

I knew my mentor (mental case?) would not be happy but I had to slow down my pace. The run was turning bad quickly.

Then the Storm clouds rolled in. The wind picked up, and the rain came pouring down. Tree branches were flying onto the path and I swear a cow sailed past us.

We should have listened to Don Paul.

Still a half mile from the car, the lightning began flashing across the sky. This time I didn't object when he picked the pace back up. Ancient Chinese saying - "better to get side stitch than die from lightening strike". Or something like that.

Soaking wet, with tree remnants in my hair, we finally reached the lone truck left in the parking lot.

Dr. Nutjob looked at his watch, "That was way too slow!" he said, shaking his head in disgust. If he had a red marker he would have written slacker across my forehead.

On the ride back home, with the storm growing more violent I was just happy to be safe. We all have our good days and bad days.

You can kill yourself running or you can live to run another day.

I chose to live. Color me noble.

Dr. Nutjob would have probably colored me differently if he hadn't forgotten to bring the red marker.