For those of you who don’t know, I dropped out at mile 45 of the Georgia Death Race. It was my first drop ever (besides Barkley, which doesn’t count). It sucks. This race was my big focus, my goal for the spring, and with it came an opportunity to run at Western States 100 mile. It started out great, running with Caleb Denton, Brian Rusiecki, and Michael Owen, rolling along the first 28 miles of the course. Super slow, but that’s what the trails made us do. Steep, crazy, good views, good conversation with everybody. Then some disasters happened. My Achilles started tightening up a bit, I got really hot, my legs weren’t really responding, whine whine whine. I took ibuprofen, I threw up, I never started to feel better, my Achilles got worse and worse and eventually I was limping on it, unable to bend it and push off, especially on the uphills. And there’s a lot of uphills. Got to mile 45 aid station, sat down, finally got some ibuprofen down, ate some stuff, taped up the Achilles, tried to keep going, could barely walk, started to feel pain in my other leg due to compensation, QUIT.
So much goes through the mind when quitting. The what ifs?! What if I had the race I wanted to have and captured that top 2 spot? What If I had suffered into the end even after an Achilles injury and got the satisfaction and memory of a Georgia Death Race finish? What if I had amputated my leg and jumped one-legged into Amicolola? What if I could recover and start training for WESTERN STATES?
But these what ifs?! don’t matter. Waste of time. What happened happened and it was out of my control and I haven’t had a bad race in over 2 years and it was destined to happen sometime and it happened here and it sucks but I had fun the first 30 miles and I was super bummed about it but there’s nothing I can do. I know I made the right decision to drop. I could’ve gotten hurt much more, cause damage just for the opportunity to walk a slow, dejected 25 miles into Amicolola. So what does dropping out mean? When you put all your cards on the table and a bunch of pressure on yourself and look forward to something and work hard for this goal, then don’t do it, it hits you hard. Failing is just an opportunity for the future, a lesson to do things differently and I think the only thing to do at this point is try to learn from the mistakes and change for the future. I think that that’s what this sport is about: moving forward and learning and getting better, not getting pissed and frustrated.
SO I now have some options:
Obviously, option 4 is the only serious one. Spring is here. Fun is to be had. I’m not gonna listen. I’m gonna heal that Achilles with the help of the amazing, magic, kind soul that is Jordan Chang and then I’m gonna run everywhere and anywhere. As much as I want. I’m gonna run where I want, however fast I want, slow and fast and in between and I’m gonna see some views and trails and roads and friends and sometimes I’ll do hill repeats and track workouts but only if I want to and only if I did a 20 mile AT run the morning of. I’ll sign up for races and crush them and then run 8000 miles the next day. I’m gonna see waterfalls and rocks and trees and the sun and the rain and the rush of big days on the trails.
In all seriousness, I might incorporate some of option 2 in there. Strengthening is crucial. Working on flexibility and reinventing my form is essential. But there will be no plan because plans are stupid. ALSO- tapering is the stupidest thing and I’m never doing it again. It messes up your body at the wrong time. Every race I’ve done the best at had a 1-day taper. So at least I learned something. Another thing I learned- treasure the good days, the fun parts of the trail where the flow is running from your head to your legs, don’t take success for granted, work HARDER and enjoy everything.
So much goes through the mind when quitting. The what ifs?! What if I had the race I wanted to have and captured that top 2 spot? What If I had suffered into the end even after an Achilles injury and got the satisfaction and memory of a Georgia Death Race finish? What if I had amputated my leg and jumped one-legged into Amicolola? What if I could recover and start training for WESTERN STATES?
But these what ifs?! don’t matter. Waste of time. What happened happened and it was out of my control and I haven’t had a bad race in over 2 years and it was destined to happen sometime and it happened here and it sucks but I had fun the first 30 miles and I was super bummed about it but there’s nothing I can do. I know I made the right decision to drop. I could’ve gotten hurt much more, cause damage just for the opportunity to walk a slow, dejected 25 miles into Amicolola. So what does dropping out mean? When you put all your cards on the table and a bunch of pressure on yourself and look forward to something and work hard for this goal, then don’t do it, it hits you hard. Failing is just an opportunity for the future, a lesson to do things differently and I think the only thing to do at this point is try to learn from the mistakes and change for the future. I think that that’s what this sport is about: moving forward and learning and getting better, not getting pissed and frustrated.
SO I now have some options:
- Quit running forever and spiral into an obese depressed shell of a human being. Find a hobby like crocheting. Die lonely and unfulfilled. Set no goals.
- Take a very measured, responsible approach to recovery and begin training slowly, building up the miles safely. Increase mileage by only 10% per week. Strengthen weak areas, work on flexibility, cross train, start a training plan with 2 specific workouts a week, a long run on Saturday, necessary recovery runs and a pat on the back. Maybe become a decent runner, the same as everybody else. Smile and be happy with dropping out.
- Vanish from civilization forever, live in a cave and wear the hides of my victims.
- Go bat shit crazy and start an experiment and start running however much I want to. Don’t care about all that nonsense about being cautious about mileage. Don’t care about all that nonsense of having a structured training plan and doing a bunch of road workouts to keep up with the Nike-ification of the sport. Don’t care about all that nonsense of “Darren, you’re gonna get burned out, you need to do tempo runs every Wednesday and can only do one long run a week and all that vert isn’t beneficial and look what happened to this guy and this guy and oh Darren you’re gonna get hurt. And taper for 10 days before a race so that you can whatever.
Obviously, option 4 is the only serious one. Spring is here. Fun is to be had. I’m not gonna listen. I’m gonna heal that Achilles with the help of the amazing, magic, kind soul that is Jordan Chang and then I’m gonna run everywhere and anywhere. As much as I want. I’m gonna run where I want, however fast I want, slow and fast and in between and I’m gonna see some views and trails and roads and friends and sometimes I’ll do hill repeats and track workouts but only if I want to and only if I did a 20 mile AT run the morning of. I’ll sign up for races and crush them and then run 8000 miles the next day. I’m gonna see waterfalls and rocks and trees and the sun and the rain and the rush of big days on the trails.
In all seriousness, I might incorporate some of option 2 in there. Strengthening is crucial. Working on flexibility and reinventing my form is essential. But there will be no plan because plans are stupid. ALSO- tapering is the stupidest thing and I’m never doing it again. It messes up your body at the wrong time. Every race I’ve done the best at had a 1-day taper. So at least I learned something. Another thing I learned- treasure the good days, the fun parts of the trail where the flow is running from your head to your legs, don’t take success for granted, work HARDER and enjoy everything.
More thoughts on the race: First off, huge ups to Andrew Miller winning in a dominating performance once again. Kid has nails. Second, CALEB DENTON!! You’re super amazing, man. First year running ultras and you got yourself a golden ticket. Your ability to push is astounding, and you got a lot of success coming to you. Michael Owen and Brian Rusiecki- super fun running with you guys and props to pushing through and finishing even on a super rough day. That’s what this sport is about. My teammates Jordan Chang and Leif Van Acker killed it, getting 5th and 7th. Hell yeah. Bethany Patterson putting herself in a super focused mindset and cruising through to 1st place! And the best memory of the race- when my lovely girl Adrienne Rivera ran through the river at the finish line, elated and ecstatic, bubbling comments about what happened all day, running into my arms, completing her goal in 21 hours!! That commitment and enthusiasm got you to finish an amazing goal and I couldn’t be more proud. The crewing- I’m speechless. Jonathan was super fast and helpful at the aid stations, Hannah, Lynnie and Neel did everything for everybody, including Neel pacing Adrienne to the finish. Josh had his mega-crew truck full of everything anyone could wish for and all of you guys have insanely nice and helpful attitudes. Thanks homies. Run Bum Sean Blanton- this race was the most well-organized, well-staffed, beautiful, tough course and your philosophy is enviable. The south really has some good people, an ultra community revolving around FUN, and some real mountains! You do a real good job and I’ll be back to run more of your races for sure.
More Miles More Fun
More Miles More Fun