Peacock 100k 2013: Part 2 - The Aftermath

I woke up the morning after the race feeling totally nauseous. I tried to drink some water, but couldn't keep it down. Brad went and got me some Sprite, which stayed down a little better. But I spent the better part of Sunday sipping Sprite, puking, and sleeping.

By 4pm, I came to realization that I wasn't going to get better on my own. Brad drove me to the ER at Wahiawa General Hospital. The person admitting me asked me what the problem was. I answered, "I think I'm dehydrated. I did this race yesterday." He says, "You mean that CRAZY race on the North Shore?!?!"

This guy did the 24 Hours of Kualoa Mountain Bike race and he still calls us crazy?

Thankfully, the staff at Wahiawa took great care of me. They set me up with a couple of IV bags while waiting for my test results to come back. Two IV bags and some anti-nausea meds and I was good as new.

Looking back, I (obviously) needed to be drinking more during the race. I had a tough time eating for the second half of the race, so I started drinking most of my calories. I thought this would also keep me well hydrated, but this was not the case. And in hindsight, the original reason I wasn't able to eat was probably because I was dehydrated. I will definitely be re-thinking my nutrition and hydration plans for future events.

Randy: I was so lucky to find my savior at the bottom of Long Road! As you said, it wasn't the first time and it probably won't be the last. Thank you for helping me up a tough section with your stories. Again. I hope I was able to distract you from some of your pain (chafing and blisters - ouch!). And it was such FUN when we finally hit that last section from the 3-way down to Dillingham!

Thanks also to Gordon & Rex, who gave me Boost to get me through the ridge, plus their sage advice and encouragement. Heather, who kept me going with her juice & ginger ale concoction (and wisely had me test it before pouring it into my Camelbak). Jackie T., who gave me Clip for that last push from Long Road to the finish.

And a million thanks to Brad for always being there for me. He spent his Saturday meeting me at the Aid Stations and bringing me Jamba Juice and french fries - it makes such a big difference to get extra encouragement throughout the race. And then he spent his Sunday taking care of me, eventually driving me to the ER. Plus back to Dillingham to get my car.

Rob: Thank you for all the work you put into this race! I don't know how, but every year, you manage to surpass the year before.

And thanks to George, for being there in spirit. Whenever I wanted to quit (and there were many times), I kept thinking that George wouldn't quit.

http://connect.garmin.com/player/396555735

1. In the map image on the Garmin site, select the "Hybrid" box

2. Press the "Play" button

Sat, 10/19/2013
Start: Dillingham Airfield
Loop 1: 8:48
Dillingham aid station 0:17
Loop 2: 10:41
Total: 19:46 / 64 miles / 18:32 avg

Race Sites on Stamina Race and Facebook.
Race Results on Ultrasignup

Peacock 100k 2013: Randy's Race Recap

Randy and I finished the race together. Here is his recap. I couldn't have described it any better.

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So, here we are...it's "the morning after," and as such, this is the time when sit around and assess the damages and lament the victories, small as they may seem.

I used to think that we would do these events just to say "because we can." Kind of like a "feather in cap" kind of thing. But after some pretty near misses with DNF'g events like these, I have found that the reason some if us do these things is because somewhere deep inside, we just don't have the resolve to stay away.

As we were running last night, conversations would drift from one topic to the other. Seemingly random but all with the same underlying theme: "Distraction from the pain. I won't talk discomfort if you don't." And that's how it happens, you see. That's how some of us are able to push through the night, mile after mile... hill after grueling hill. I would look over and see my friend: hobbling...staggering... smiling... wondering to myself if I was doing as good a job of masking the pain, or did my demeanor betray me? Lost in the context of the current "story" being told, momentarily pushing back the searing pain that would under ordinary circumstances, bring one to their knees, I say into the darkness, "OK, I've been saving THIS story for you. Ready?"

... and that's how we did it. Obsessively checking our watches and seeing the minutes and hours slip awsy... counting down the "available time" vs. "travel-time." ("Available time" is how long we have until the Aid-Station closes and we are no longer ALLOWED to advance along the course and "travel time" is how long it would NORMALLY take us to run the distance between certain sections of the race course.) As the watch would beep to indicate another eclipsed mile, we would assess whether or not we were in pace or whether we needed to "pick it up" from 22min/mile pace to a 17min/mile pace. Hysterical when you really think about it!

Julie, this isn't the first time we've found ourselves in this situation and I'm willing to bet that this won't be the last. What I WILL concede is that that was one of the toughest displays of mental toughness I've seen in a long time.

Great job bringing it home and GREAT JOB keeping the focus and not getting discouraged!!!

(Oh, and did I mention that all the while we went from DFL to passing about 6-8 runners between the Picnic Table and the FINISH!!!! BWAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Awesome.