Why would anyone of a sound mind decide to run in a
circle for 12 hours (never mind 24)? For me, I wanted to challenge myself and see
how far I could push my body. Specifically, I wanted to train for a new
distance, to set and reach new running goals. The 2014 Ultra Around the Lake
organized by the Somerville Road Runners provided the perfect opportunity. It
was a pretty flat course, not on a trail, and only 30 minutes from my house in Boston.
The training was exactly what I was looking for. The
most important aspect of training for an ultra is the “sandwich run,” in which
you run back-to-back days, usually on the weekend. My first such run was
back-to-back two-hour runs. I gradually increased time and mileage each week,
peaking with two weekends of a four-hour run on Saturday and a five-hour run on
Sunday (totaling 48 and 49 miles, respectively). Although I had wanted to hit
50 miles in a sandwich run before race day, I felt that, even falling one mile
short, I was physically ready to run my first ultramarathon. The two-week taper
was tough to wait out but necessary in that it brought back a little spring in
my step.
I felt prepared leading up to race day. My four
sighted guides were scheduled, I created a manageable nutrition plan for my
crew, and my daughter and I had everything packed two nights before race day.
Race morning (July 26) arrived on the back of two
unsuccessful nights of sleep, so I felt a little nervous. I rarely drink coffee
before a race but decided to get a small iced coffee and bagel before we left Boston. While in the car, my
six-year-old daughter, Lucy, and I pinky-promised each other that I would run
for 12 hours and she would behave for 12. I had more confidence in her ability
to hold up her end.
Pulling into the race parking lot, I thought, “Damn,
I’m really going to run for the next 12 hours!” We passed a number of 24-hour
and relay racers on the course, and I immediately noticed how tired some of the
24-hour racers, who started at 9:00 PM the night before, looked (understandably
so).
We saw our friend Liza, who was also running her
first ultra (and crushed it with over 40 miles!). We started in an empty parking
lot about .8 miles from the timing mats on the race course in order to get an
official marathon time after completing eight full laps. Therefore, the first
lap was 4 miles and subsequent laps were 3.17 miles (5K). I started the race
with my CamelBak filled with Hammer Nutrition HEED (electrolyte drink) and a
Clif bar in my pocket.
We crossed the timing mats as we entered the race
course, and as we looped by our site, Lucy ran toward us for the first of many
high fives. My legs felt strong on the first lap, and I think we ran a
conservative first loop of 41:21:7. This was slightly faster than my 10:45-minute/mile
goal but nothing to be alarmed about.
Josh & Kyle early on
I was alarmed though about the amount of foot
traffic on the course and the condition of the sidewalks. I knew the course was
open to the public. However, I hadn’t anticipated the volume of walkers,
runners, and dog walkers with leashes, many of whom were running/walking in the
opposite direction around the loop. Additionally, some of the sidewalks were
pretty rough, and a long section shortly after mile 2 cut across numerous
driveways, meaning we had to step down and up curbs frequently. I wasn’t
prepared for this. Josh was a tremendous help and immediately sensed my anxiety,
so on the second loop, we ran on a wide shoulder between miles 1 and 2. We hopped
back on the shoulder around the 2.5-mile mark. This slightly altered route
allowed me to focus simply on running and was a huge mental relief.
During the second loop, I started taking in food and
Hammer Nutrition Perpetuem, a high-calorie drink mix. My nutrition plan called
for approximately 300–500 calories per hour. Around this time, I realized that
I had forgotten to eat my standard pre-race meal of PB&J and two bananas.
Thankfully, I had eaten a bagel on the drive up. So, on the third lap, I ate
most of my PB&J, which brought on the onset of my GI issues. Between the
HEED and Perpetuem and the sandwich, I felt incredibly bloated.
At noon, after about four laps, my second guide,
Mark Gaffney, joined us. Mark is a BEAST and super nice guy. His dad has the
same eye disease as I do (retinitis pigmentosa), so Mark is a very active
sighted guide. Josh ran with us for a loop to orient Mark to the course. He
pointed out where we ran on the shoulder and some of the tougher sections of
the course (such as when we passed the farmers’ market). Mark is an
accomplished ultrarunner, so I felt incredibly comfortable with his insight and
support. We clicked off a few laps averaging about 12:30-minute miles. I knew I
was running slower than my goal of 12-minute miles, but Jill did some quick
math (always nice to have a nonprofit finance person on your crew) and told me
I was still on pace for 50 miles. My mileage goals were a high of 57.95 and low
of 51.
On lap 6 I was still having GI issues and was
feeling very tired. I could begin to feel a low creeping in, but Mark
encouraged me to keep moving (we stopped at the site to get food/fuel on the go
but kept moving otherwise). Lap 6 was my first 13-minute mile, so this brought
me down even further.
I tried to focus on the course and scenery and not on
my energy during lap 7. For the first time I took in the beauty of the lake and
the kayakers/sailors on the water. This helped a bit, but I was still struggling.
The negative thoughts were upon me, and I grew very quiet. When we looped around
to the final stretch before the timing mats our relay friends, who cheered for
us EVERY single lap (they would yell, “We love Team With A Vision,” and note
whenever I had a new guide), picked me up a bit.
However, by the time I got to
our site, I was done. I couldn’t believe that I was this exhausted and hadn’t
even run 26 miles. This was the first time I told Jill I wasn’t sure I could
run the entire race. She later told me that I was incoherent and mumbling and
swaying a bit. I grabbed some fuel, and with Mark’s encouragement, we headed
back out.
With my legs dragging and my mental state low, I
walked more than I had in previous laps. We grabbed some water at the mile 2 aid
station, and I continued to walk. I walked up a slight incline, and Mark said,
“You ready to take it in at the top of the hill?” Mark is a BIG dude, so when
he asks, I do as he says. We jogged to the corner of the last straightaway, and
Mark said, “Let’s run through the timing mats and to the site.” Although this
was my slowest lap (just under 14-minute miles), I felt better coming into the
site. Lucy’s smile and Jill’s firm encouragement were awesome. Mark suggested
we walk from the site to the mile 1 marker and eat on the way. All I heard was
walk, and I got going. At the mile 1 marker, we did indeed begin to run to mile
2. Then we walked a stretch, and when we hit the top of the slight incline, we
ran. From there I could see the stoplights that signaled the turnoff to the
timing mats. “I can do that,” I muttered to myself. I whispered, “Let’s go,
Robidoux,” a few times to get me going. When we turned onto the final stretch,
the relay team greeted us with cheers, and I heard someone say, “He’s been
running every time he passes us.” I didn’t have the energy to tell them I had
been walking not too long ago.
Side
note: If anyone from the relay team (the one with the older gentleman with long
whitish hair and a Guinness shirt) is reading this, THANK YOU for all your
support and encouragement. You kept me going around that corner and down the
final stretch.
We continued the same run/walk routine, and the
rhythm pulled me out of the low funk I was in. My Garmin died right around this
time, so it was nice to simply run based on distance markers and not have to
continuously look at my watch.
We completed lap 8 and 26.2 miles at 5:20. I didn’t
know until after the race, but I was in 23rd place at this time. Also around
this time, our friends Meghan (Meghan was my sighted guide for the Providence
Marathon, a race I dragged her to two weeks after we had both run Boston) and
Caroline (Mark’s sister) showed up to cheer us on. It was a big pick-me-up to
see familiar faces at the site and to have their help with fuel/food. Thanks so
much for showing up!!
We hit 29 miles after lap 9. It was the farthest
distance I had ever run.
With Jill’s help, I put on some new clothes right
after lap 11. I put on a white shirt to help with the heat and what I thought
were a pair of fresh socks, and I reapplied Vaseline EVERYWHERE. I have two
pairs of the same socks, and Jill told me after the race that she put the same
ones I took off back on me. Not a big deal because in my head I had a “fresh”
pair of clothes. I had to sit down to put on new socks, and this was the only
point in the race that I stopped moving forward (except for an earlier bathroom
break). My buddy Neil, who crewed most of the day (THANK YOU), picked up extra
ice, and Jill started to make me “ice bandanas” to keep my head and neck cool.
I held on to the nice rhythm and run/walk sequence
and kept my splits in the low 13 minutes for the next 3–5 laps.
Sean Chatlos hopped on as my guide right around 4:30
PM (Mark took a quick break then paced Josh the rest of the day to log an
unplanned 40 miles!). Around this time, I ran into BJ Williams, and it was nice
to run with him for a few miles. Hope to get out to Western Massachusetts for
one of the 5K races he organizes.
Sean was my sighted guide for Boston Marathon
training, so I’ve logged a ton of miles with him. I am incredibly comfortable
with Sean and really appreciate his energy and the quiet confidence he brings
to running and guiding. Above all things, Sean was instrumental in making sure
I continued to take in fuel other than liquids. He knew that I was having GI issues
and that the 35- to 45-mile mark was crucial. In addition to my crew’s awesome
work getting me fuel, Sean was insistent, yet supportive, that I continue to
take it in.
Sean, Kyle & Jill w/ Ray photo bomb!
I can honestly say that laps 10–12 clicked by pretty
uneventfully in terms of how I felt physically and mentally. That said, I was
beginning to count down the number of laps to the 51-mile mark (16 total). I
began counting down in earnest during lap 5 and tried to trick my brain into
thinking I was still aiming for 18 laps. At some point, Jill told me I was in
the top 20 runners, which I thought was crazy. But knowing I was doing so well
did give me a boost of energy.
My final guide, Ray Charbonneau,
joined on lap 15 (or maybe 14—my memory is a little foggy this late in the
race). Ray is an experienced runner and guide (he guided me earlier in the
summer during a 5K), so I was comfortable with him. What I wasn’t comfortable
with was the amount of time left and arithmetic necessary to figure out how
many more laps I could do. My brain just didn’t have the capacity to do
“runner’s math.” I was getting increasingly anxious trying to figure this out
and asked for Ray’s help when we crossed the timing mat and passed the overall
race clock. Ray was instrumental in getting me to calm down, to focus on the
current lap, and to stop worrying about future laps. This was HUGE!
We completed lap 16, and I broke
the 50-mile mark—51.603! I was an ultramarathoner!!
he race clock read 23:05 hours
(there was also a 24-hour race), so there was no doubt we were heading out for
another, and final, lap. I completed lap 16 in 40:37, which was my fastest split
since lap 7.
Over the course of the race, I had asked
the crew how Josh was doing, so I knew he was killing it and still on the
course with Mark.
I ate a final goo chomp, ditched my
handheld, and headed out feeling pretty good. I told Jill, Lucy, and the crew
to head to the finish line with my white cane and a beer. It was a little past
8:00 PM and already dusk. We knew that it was not safe to run on the shoulder
with live traffic, so we decided that Ray would run in front of us with
blinking lights that I could see to follow. Sean hopped back on (these guides
are amazing!) to run as my guide with a tether. This was my first race
experience running with a tether, so I was definitely nervous.
Somewhere during the first mile, we
passed a group of runners, and someone commented that it wasn’t dark enough for
Ray to have the blinking lights. Obviously, my mental patience was stretched,
but I proudly bit my tongue and simply told him that I was visually impaired and
the lights were very helpful to me. I’m sure there was no ill will in his
comment, but I do hope he reflected on my answer post-race.
After the first mile of that last
lap, it was completely dark. This was my first time running at night
“completely blind.” We passed the mile 2 aid station, and the volunteers were
cheering us on. I wanted to run from there, but the ups and downs of the
sidewalks were too much. I had energy to run forward, but my quads were
absolutely spent so I couldn’t handle the sudden transitions off the sidewalk.
I completely trusted Sean, but the dark, the tether, the up-and-down terrain—all
were very new for me. We decided to run the short distance between the sidewalk
transitions and then walk. Although I knew we had plenty of time, I asked Ray
and Sean to check their watches. We were good. We made the final turn running,
and I could see the finish and hear the cheers. I picked up my pace as we were
passing the relay team and heard people yelling at us from behind. Josh and
Mark were right behind us!
We ran together as a team, and I
jumped up and stomped on the timing mat at 11:49:47. It is hard to describe the
amazing feeling of finishing the race with all four of my sighted guides (also
thrilled that Josh placed first in the men’s division and second overall with a
total of 61.122).
I ended up completing 17 laps for a
total of 54.7 miles and finishing 11th overall and sixth in the men’s division.
It proves that good things can happen when you simply keep moving forward.
Finishing any race is an emotional
experience. But being so physically and mentally drained added a whole new
layer to the experience. All I could think was I FUCKING DID IT.
I set my goal
to run an ultra, I was dedicated to my training plan (and incredibly supported
by Jill and Lucy), and I was prepared and executed my plan on race day. My one uncertainty
going into the race was my mental strength, so I’m proud that I pushed through
even when things got tough.
I am an ultramarathoner!
