Midnight Masochist - post-run report

Pre-run.  I don't usually work all day, then BBQ with friends before big events.  But this was anything but "usual."  I just enjoyed the evening, ate some grilled chicken, potato salad, and delicious brownies.  Other than a good amount of water, I also had some Gatorade and Bud Light.
At home later that night, I laid on the couch and yawned several times while watchin the Cardinals.  It finally got to be about 10 o'clock, so I frantically loaded up all my gear into bags and coolers, and loaded up the car for a 10:30PM departure.  I rolled into the Fox Creek parking lot near Six Flags right on time at about 11PM.  John and Dave were already waiting there.  I could sense their excitement and anticipation in the cool evening air - it was almost chilly, yet very comfortable.  The conversation was light-hearted and relaxed somehow, almost as if a double running of the Green Rock trail in the middle of the night was business as usual.  Greg and Kyle pulled into the parking lot, got their head lamps on, and were ready to go.  We all pounded various last-minute energy drinks, and hit the trailhead at 11:25PM. 

1-5
With no intentions to lead this charge, I took up residence in the back of our headlamp parade.  Bugs that only come out at night swarmed our heads.  The moon was bright overhead, but unfortunately a solid canopy of trees prevented anything more than a sliver of natural light.  Glancing up to sneak a look at the full moon was a recipe for kicking the next root or rock.  Lots of joking and chatter helped the first few miles go by pretty quickly, but I was having a hard time getting comfortable.  For some reason, I wasn't enjoying myself, and I was angry at myself for being in such a funk, so early.  And that's a bad downward spiral.  To make matters worse, I felt like I was working way too hard... and I was already falling off the back of the pack.  My light was dim, and the dust kicked up by the guys in front of me made very cautious, and actually kind of slow.  I was very relieved to see the road that cuts through the park around mile 5 because Dave kindly stashed a cooler of goodies there.  A chance to catch up, and catch my breath.
I ate half a PB&J sandwich, some Mt. Dew, cookies, Nibbs, and fritos.  That helped some.  I mean, I've never met a PB&J sandwich I didn't like, and this was no exception!
6-10
These next miles went a lot like the five before them.  The effort felt more difficult than it should have, and I was struggling to stay near the group.  At times, their lights would be out of sight, and I would mutter to myself that this was going to be impossible.  I wasn't handling the pace, and I wasn't optimistic about the day.  I inhaled a sizable bug half way down my throat.  A coughing fit ensued.  I tried to remind myself that it never always gets worse, but my message was falling on some stubborn, fairly deaf ears.
I arrived at the turn-around aid station (again, compliments of Dave) in a pretty foul mood, but intent on turning things around.  Fed up with my light, I swapped out a couple batteries.  It was literally eye-opening.  Hallelujah, I can see!  Revived, I dug into the cooler and gobbled some snacks and caffeine.  Got my pack filled with icy cold water, and I was ready to go.  Much better!
11-15
I don't remember much from this segment, except for catching a deer's eyes in our lights.  It's spooky to see things in a dark forest in the 2 o'clock hour. 
The aid station 15 miles in was like an oasis again.  Salty chips tasted great, and Red Bull was surprisingly palatable.  Onwards and upwards!
16-20
We were all a little more quiet on the way back to the Fox Creek parking lot.  And rightfully so.  We were spending a lot of energy focusing on our footsteps, and keeping up our collective effort.  Oh, and it was getting to be 4:30AM.
A well-deserved break back at the cars had us all rejuvinated.  At the time, I remember thinking that the 20 miles I did out there last Saturday felt easier than this 20.  I realized that that was not neccessarily a good sign, but since I didn't feel bad or anything, my stomach was in good shape, and I didn't have any nagging injuries or chafed skin, I was actually good to go.
John applied huge amounts of duct tape to his butchered shoes.  Everybody else performed pretty normal aid station activities.  I restocked my supply of  Paydays and chugged a cold Coke that Greg offered me.  I have a stomach of steel, and didn't even know it!  Without fanfare, we were on our way for lap #2. 
21-25
Anxious.  That's the best way to describe the next few miles.  Anxious to take my headlamp off - not that it was painful or annoying, but it was getting uncomfortable.  Anxious for the next rest stop, too.  We were barely a mile out of Fox Creek when I went through the first of three short dizzy spells.  Even after refueling back at the parking lot, I felt compelled to take another double-caffeine gel, a Payday, and a few shot-bloks.  The low point eventually passed, as it always does.  But it wouldn't be the last time I battled through one of these 10 minute lulls.
Muscularly, I was feeling pretty solid pulling into the aid station.  Mentally, I was pretty worn out.  Thinking about getting all the way to the turn-around, and then coming back 10 miles, was daunting.  I just loaded up on goodies from the cooler again, and we all headed out.
26-30
These felt like the longest miles.  By this point, I was pushing past my longest run in terms of time (A 50k last November took me just under 6hrs).  More recently, my longest runs had been in the 4hr range, having done two Greenrocks in past few weeks.  The group started to get separated during this stretch.  Kyle was feeling excellent and kept up swift pace into the 30 mile checkpoint.  Dave, on the other hand, was having a battle-royale with his stomach, and was taking it easier at the temps began to elevate.  I was sandwiched somewhere in the middle, just trying to get to the next rest area in one piece.  My ability to guesstimate accurately had long-since checked out.  Every time I was sure there was only a mile or so left on the section, I would recognize a part of the trail and realize I had much farther to go.  I convinced myself that I still needed to make my way down a steep drop that had a set of stairs built in.  I knew that I wasn't even close until after I saw those.  I never did see them.  I don't remember seeing them at all.  The group assured me that we had all done them together, though. Good enough for me.
I finally stumbled in and immediately took off my shoes to empty out some grit, and assess the situation.  No blisters, but it felt like my socks were fusing with my feet.  I blame the Bodyglide.  The other guys were in various stages of recovery in front of the restrooms when I arrived.  Slouched against the wall, or hovering over a water fountain, or in a zombie-like trance mindlessly extracting gummie bears from a cooler.  Eating them like it was a last meal.  Dave arrived shortly thereafter, and we all rested a bit.  I was getting cold, though, and Kyle was downright freezing.  His teeth were practically chattering.  Being drenched in sweat while moving for about 8 hours takes its toll, but staying still too long doesn't feel right either.
Still, spirits were pretty high. Personally, I was feeling mentally stronger at 30 miles, than I did at 10 miles.  Physically, however, I was an aching, throbbing, mess.  From the waist down, I was hurting.  A couple ibuprofen dulled the pain for about 20 minutes, but it always came back with a vengance. It was a pain I could live with because there were no shin splints, no ITB flare-ups, and no cramping at all.  And I still hadn't yawned once yet, if you can believe that!
31-35
Kyle, John, and I headed out first, mustering up a run-like-movement when we could, and hiking when we had to.  It was pretty obvious that we were a bit delirious.  Conversations were nonsensical.  They started and ended abruptly.  "You guys are pretty entertaining to run with," said Kyle in complete seriousness.  Not sure if that was a compliment, but I took it as one.  John and I have no trouble amusing ourselves -and apparently those around us- during these expeditions.  Just past mile 33, I was officially in uncharted territory, and every subsequent step would be a new personal best for distance. 
The flat section of washed out gravel road that normally seems far to short, was anything but.  Kyle assured us it was only another 1/4 mile to the road (and our oasis), and I recall accusing him of blatantly lieing. We eventually arrived at the cooler for the last time and took a nice long break to get ready for the final push.  I ate and drank all I could handle.  Polishing off a Mt. Dew was the best decision of the day.
36-41
After a helluva long climb, the terrain leveled off and allowed for some running.  Still feeling energized from the Dew, I took off trotting down the trail, and the next thing I knew I was running full-tilt, like a new man.  I couldn't believe how great everything felt.  Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I felt nothing at all.  I was numb to the pain that had been plaguing me for hours, and I most certainly didn't feel tired.  Knowing it wouldn't last long, I took advantage of the boost.  "I'm all jacked up on Mt. Dew!!!" I hollered.  It was like when your Super Mario Bros character gets a magic star and takes off like a lunatic, impervious to all the cretins that would normally take his fragile little life.  But all good things must end.  And it was fairly dramatic.  My superhuman stint was over in a matter of minutes, and I was back to being able to feel everything. 
John and Kyle caught up and we all forged ahead.  That's the funny thing about running as a group on the trails.  Sometimes the group splits up.  Not everybody handles the day the same way.  Everybody has their peaks and valleys come at different times. There is no judgement.   If you're "feeling it," go.  If you're hurting, slow down.  The three of us pushed on together. The icy cold creek was calling us.

10:10AM, we finished!  After the requisite fist bumps, I immediately uncovered my stash of chocolate milk in the cooler and took it down to the creek with me.  I stood there for a good 10 minutes, just letting the stream absorb the pain from my legs.  Sweet relief.  It was a great moment as I swayed there by myself, half swelled up with the pride and joy of commraderie and accomplishment, and half entirely exhausted and depleted.
Greg and Dave trotted into the parking lot a little later, looking like a million bucks.  Smiles all around!

As I sit here today, I'm am still pretty impressed with my discipline on the trail, and my will to keep on going when my body truly wanted to sit down and stay down.  But I think my fellow SLUGS are worthy of even more praise and admiration.  They make this look easy, and keep me inspired to put in more miles and push my limits.  I am thankful for friends that will partake in events like the Midnight Masochist: Double Greenrock. And I am doubly thankful for my family who supports my drive to get out and explore!