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Excerpts from 'Running Through the Millennium' by
Lynn David Newton
Chapter 10: Getting Close
Chapter 11: Across The Years
If I Needed Someone
No first-timer should even consider running a race of this type
entirely without personal assistance. There were volunteers serving
the aid stations, and runners in the race develop a spirit of camaraderie,
helping one another. But most people also benefit from a personal
crew.
My family came through big time for me in that respect. There were
two aid stations, one on the inside with drinks and food to snatch
off the table and eat on the run, and another across from it with
microwaves and real food. Suzy worked the latter from early in the
race until she and Cyra-Lea left at 1:00 AM. While working, she
kept a close eye on me, making up soups and other prepared foods.
In mid-afternoon I sat down in my trackside chair for a few minutes
to accomplish several maintenance tasks: eating and drinking, taking
electrolyte and Advil, writing a couple of thoughts in my notebook,
and dumping green track gravel chips out of my shoes. I did not
yet know that these chips would later prove to be my nemesis.
It was perhaps 2:00 PM, much later than I should have remembered
it, when Suzy urged me to rub on some sunscreen. I hadn't done so
because it had been mostly cloudy all day, and I was trying to get
away without using it. The temperature had risen to 77 degrees,
according to the trackside gauge that reported it in tenths of a
degree. I clearly needed sunscreen. Yuk.
``Sure, I'll be glad to rub grease all over my body! Could I possibly
be any more disgusting after running the last five hours? I'm not
nearly funky enough the way I am.'' So on it went, as the aid station
attendant across the track cracked up at my sarcasm.
It was theoretically necessary for me somehow to gag down between
300 and 450 calories an hour. I was able to sustain that level of
input only until evening. After a while all food, whether a delicious
piping hot stew or a piece of hard candy, looked loathsome. I ate
as much as I could, but inevitably my intake level necessarily tapered.
During training runs I discovered that after three or four hours,
I couldn't look sideways at Gatorade, or anything that gets squeezed
out of a tube. I learned from the Ultra List that many runners have
a problem with this, and that for many, plain water provides the
most effective hydration. This race I never touched a drop of Gatorade,
but drank gallons of water, more than I realized I was capable of.
It was always needed and welcome---I never reached a point where
I thought I didn't want to drink, which is unusual for me. In daily
life I drink far less water than I ought to because I don't like
water much.
Consuming electrolytes was never a problem. A week before the race
I made up a schedule that I printed in a large type font. It included
directions on when to give me Succeed! electrolyte capsules and
Advil. Providing advance instructions on this and having someone
else monitor it was a wise idea. Electrolyte and ibuprofen are not
candy; too much or too little can get a runner in big trouble. During
the race I didn't remember these things often myself, so was grateful
to have someone hand them to me periodically. At the same time,
I could ask for more when I wanted it, or decline it when I didn't
need it, both of which happened.
I benefited enormously from the company of an additional pacer
that I didn't expect---Cyra-Lea! She ran with me in two segments
of two miles and two segments of three miles, a total of ten miles,
spaced between late morning and mid-evening. She didn't count the
walking laps. This feat was particularly significant in that Cyra-Lea
had never run more than 10K in a single day in her life. She proved
to be a capable and welcome pacer.
While doing guard duty, seated in my collapsible chair by the side
of the track, Cyra-Lea worked on finishing Paula Newby-Fraser's
book on fitness. She finished the book sometime in the late afternoon.
I'm impressed that she plowed with enthusiasm all the way through
what is a highly technical book on physical training, and loved
it so much. For the rest of the day, when she joined me, she snowed
me with subtle tips on nutrition during tapering, doing intervals,
and cross-training.
Cyra-Lea's other job was to act as secretary. Frequently, while
running, things occur to me that I would like to write about, from
whole subjects to simple thoughts and turns of phrase. There's no
opportunity to write it all down while running, and much is forgotten.
To solve the problem for this jaunt, I provided Cyra-Lea with a
notebook, pens, and instructions to write down anything I told her
to whenever I flew by.
I did get a few useful notes that way, but the method didn't work
as well as I had hoped. Often Cyra-Lea was off doing some other
task or was otherwise unavailable, while the notebook sat on the
grass next to the empty chair.
Most of the day Aaron remained largely invisible, watching things
quietly from a distance, and also getting a lot of sleep. He's normally
a very sociable and likeable fellow, but he had slept very badly
the night before, and needed quiet time on his one that day. He
must have slept in the tent by himself a good eight hours altogether
during the daytime.
Late at night, after Suzy and Cyra-Lea left for Dean's, Aaron sat
watch over me. During the latest hours there was little for him
to do except be available if I needed something. He placed the chair
next to the tent, to cut down the wind, and sat in it with his sleeping
bag thrown over him, probably dozing off from time to time, but
was up and in action in a heartbeat whenever I needed him, which
was just occasionally, to get electrolyte, some food, and to help
me with my shoes. I don't know that I could have done his job.
Excerpts from 'Running Through the Millennium'
by Lynn David Newton
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