Old Dominion Race Results 2012

This is a very simple post.  Each year dozens of runners spend a day or so running the Old Dominion 100-miler race and afterwards they create a hardcopy of their splits/results for each runner.  This information can be quite valuable to runners in the future who may want to see what various past performances entitled, but it's not available electronically from their website.  Here are the 2012 results: (unfortunately, I had to convert the four pages of the pdf I made into four pic files, so it's a bit annoying if you want to flip back and forth).

Two do ten to the two

Going into my first (and possibly last) 100 miler, I had but one goal: to finish.  Lots of people say that, but that's the only thing I really, really wanted.  Sure, a silver belt buckle might be nice; sure, placing respectably might be another quaint touch.  But all I really wanted out of my legs and heart was crossing that line.  I got that, and some of the goodies too.

(Matt and I at the starting line.  I like that my head is cutting out one of the zeros, so it appears as if we're carrying tremendous hydration equipment and proud smiles and about to tackle a 10 miler.)

The wonderful side of the Old Dominion 100 course is nature.  The OD course runs through George Washington National Forest and is laid-out on either very pleasant trails (with one major exception, see below) or packed gravel roads through rolling country side.  It's simply gorgeous.  I found myself in a meditative trance in lots of sections, simply enjoying the views, the fresh air, the songs of birds.  Sometimes I was whistling while in the trail sections (okay, maybe I was trying to scare off bears, but I'd prefer to think I was communing with nature).  Add in every runner's dream weather -- low humidity, temps between 55 and 75, and a cool breeze -- and you have yourself ideal conditions for running.

 (One of the bucolic views from a road around the GW forest.)

Obviously I've never run another 100 before, but I've run enough hills, trails, hilly trails, switchback roads, fire roads, etc., to know a tough course when I'm cursed with running one.  So while beautiful and inspiring on the one hand, the Old Dominion course is as tough as nails going through your other hand.  You know the phrase, "what goes up, must come down?"  Surely, the OD course did not violate this sacrosanct rule.  But every major up in the OD is seemed to be succeeded by the turn of phrase, "...must come down (in a rocky, slow-tip-toe over potential skull-crushers)."   One of my strengths as a runner is going downhill.  Not so after mile 70 in this course.  Two people passed me on a major downhill at about mile 78, and put enough time on me that I wouldn't be able to catch them.  By mile 70, my quads were shot and because of the fear of tripping and landing head-first onto a rock, I persistently pussyfooted on the downhill trail sections.  Maybe I was so careful because we were advised at the race briefing, "not to call 911" because emergency crews from 3 counties show up.  Wait, isn't that a good reason to call?

 (At mile 75 you too would be swinging your arms like an old man shuffling his way to the next shuffle board game.)

Matt and I stayed together for 48 miles.  When we run/race together we become a two-headed leap-frogging slingshot -- Matt powers on the uphills, hauling me with him; I charge the downhills, propelling him to follow.  This symbiosis put us in 5th and 6th place at mile 50 in about 8 hours and 45 minutes.  Sure, lots of time remained in the race, but that was a pretty respectable first half for such a hilly beast of a course thus far -- I thought I might even have something left for act two.  But I also knew that on some of the earlier hilly trail sections Matt was holding back for me.  At about mile 45 I told him, "we are both strong runners, but you are stronger.  There are people running in front of us that could use an additional challenge today, and you can serve that to them!"  Shortly after the next stop at mile 47, we started to part.  I am so incredibly proud of his perseverance and strength.  On his first hundred, Matt was so awesomely confident.  Case in point:  I say to Matt at about mile 35:
Me: "Matt, we just gained 9 minutes on our planned pace in the last 9 miles -- that's a minute per mile faster than anticipated." 
Matt:  "Okay" 
Me:  "I think this means we should slow up." 
Matt: "Sure, but let's catch Mike [Bailey, 300 hundred yards ahead of us] first."  Atta boy!

The Old Dominion race management and crew support were fantastic.  People actually volunteer to help us do this insanely stupid thing to ourselves, and they did this spectacularly well and with good cheer.  We're not running for cancer research or for global warming, not even to raise awareness about nasal fungus afflicting bats -- just because -- and people still help us.  The Old Dominion organizers are good people and create a very positive mini-society on race weekend.

My only complaint was the "medical check-ins," which I mention mostly for its humorous content.  Most ultra marathons weigh runners before and during a race to test for dehydration or over-hydration, and so did the OD.  Unfortunately the OD meds used different scales at each of the 3 weigh-ins.  At mile 43, the first weigh-in after establishing a baseline the night before, the medical volunteers assured me they had calibrated and would therefore "add back 3 pounds" to make the two scales equivalent. They also claimed I was down 10 pounds or about 7.5%, which would disqualify me.  I stepped on yet a third scale at this mile 43 check-in and according to that one was down only 3 pounds!  It seems we either have a varying levels of the force of gravity in Woodstock, Virginia or mis-measurement.  Adding to this pseudo-science, the meds were weighing on an angle.  Come on people!  Can I get a shout out to Newton's third law of motion?  Even if the angle of the ground was 10 degrees, this would reduce weight by 1.5 percent (the cosine of 10 degrees = 0.9848) out of the maximum allowable reduction of 7.5 percent.  Since my high school psychics arguments weren't working on them, I used the "other half" of my brain -- my "I used to be a New Yawkah" half -- and just walked away from the medical volunteers while they continued discussing whether to hold me back for being underweight.

Another funny thing I learned on Saturday: your running injuries are specific to length and speed.  After some years of running (and getting older) every runner has a list of ailments.  For me I have a left knee "thing," a right foot "thing," and a right hamstring "thing," and these are present at various points in running 10 to 20 miles.  On Saturday, it was as if I had an entirely new body -- none of those pains surfaced, but two new ones did -- now I have a left foot "thing" and a right hip "thing."  If anyone asks how I'm doing after running my first hundred miler, I'm just going to say, "things are fine, my RIGHT foot and LEFT hip feel great."

The Heberlein sisters were my crew support, in addition to plentiful help from Matt's crew (his father Greg, Sam and Damon).  I don't know how other runners finished without these folks at their side as well.  Martha and Emily were incredibly efficient, anticipated all of my needs, and moreover unselfishly kind to me, even when they were exhausted -- they were up for about 24 hours as well!  They stuffed me with a bodacious bodega of M&Ms, cheez-its, pretzels, ramen, sweet potato soup, taquitos, potatoes, plums, oranges, snickers bars, and probably a lot of other things that will make you diabetic. While they helped me to be a faster runner and lightened the pain, I am also literally proud to tears of how they helped build a supportive running community at the Old Dominion this year.  One of the guys who finished ahead of me, Mike (from 2 paras up), grabbed the mic at the awards ceremony the next morning and thanked them personally for cheering for him.  That is what I would like to think this sport is about -- camaraderie and community support and looking past the me versus you, and looking instead at each of us as challenging ourselves.

One of the best parts of this past weekend was the awards ceremony that Old Dominion does the next morning.  I've never been at a race where each finisher comes up to accept a gift (sometimes a belt buckle for coming in under 24 hours) and is asked to say a few words.  There was a palpable sense of thankfulness, peacefulness and cheerfulness among the crowd, as most runners shared their thoughts.  Since, upon reaching the finish line the night before, my first words were, "now that was a stupid thing to do," I mentioned that this was my first 100 and, possibly, my last 100 -- that type of blasphemy didn't go over so well on a crowd of zealots.

For those keeping score at home, Matt and I finished 4th and 8th respectively out of 52 starters and about 39 finishers.  Matt finished in 20 hours and 2 minutes and I came in at 20 hours 53 minutes. 

The worst moments in life are those existential quandaries when the paths we face are obscure and fraught with uncertainty. And the best rewards in life are those that come after hard efforts.  Ultra running provides the rewards without the quandaries -- just keep moving forward and you'll feel great.   I don't know if I'll run for this long again, but I'm happy I pushed myself this far.

(The end.)