11.03 & 04.12 - Pinhoti 100 - Heflin to Sylacauga, AL

I knew at several points during the Pinhoti 100, I was going to have to pick up the pen again.

I sort of lost my race recap mojo in 2010 & 2011. I had been posting pretty regularly on my blog site, including pictures and whatnot, and just sort of lost the passion for it. Somewhat because I felt I was saying some of the same things over and over again and it was a bit stale. Somewhat because I’m a middle of the pack age grouper that was questioning myself and if I really had anything of value to put out there. So I stopped. Then Pinhoti happened. And there were things I wanted to say. And some things I needed to say.

Let’s go straight to the things that need to be said…

Many of you know how this deal works. You set the stage about the race. Then the blow-by-blow details. Then the lessons learned, acknowledgements, etc. In the case of Pinhoti, only one thing really matters. The acknowledgements. ‘The Whos’. The rest of the details I likened to something between a twenty-seven and a half hour Stanley Kubrick film and a purest form of euphoria. None of which matters in the slightest or ever would have come to fruition without ‘The Whos’.

Nate Hearns and Scott Harber… There is a fourth. Matt Miller. But we’ll get to him in a minute. We had many talks prior to Pinhoti about our race plan and approach. We had no idea what would actually happen or how it would unfold. Unfortunately, my race was in jeopardy in the bus on the ride to the start line in Heflin, AL. The last seven miles in a school bus on a very choppy service road had me chewing on Tums like Smarties and contemplating opening the bus window and hanging my head out to relieve myself. And the meltdown kept on from here.

Over the course of the 100 miles, I believe I legitimately quit five times. I insisted (sometime angrily) that Nate and Scott go on. And they simply would not leave me. They both selflessly sacrificed to pull me along that trail. Sometimes literally. Pushing me out of aid stations. Pulling me up and out of chairs I was trying to sleep in. And as the race progressed, it simply came to this – I couldn’t leave them. It wasn’t an option. For any of us. We had to finish. And it had to be together. No questions asked.

After the fact we came to realize two things – Had we broken up and gone solo at any point, our chances of finishing were slim. For me, the chances were nil. We also had no idea the significance of three people toeing the line of a 100 miler together, staying together and crossing together. Apparently this is practically unheard of. Odd thing for us, we couldn’t imagine it any other way.

The bond I’ve had with these two friends was strong before the race. I’d venture to say it’s now unbreakable. The Message translation of Ecclesiastes 4:12 can’t say it better…

“By yourself you’re unprotected. With a friend you can face the worst. Can you round up a third?
A three-stranded rope isn’t easily snapped.” Amen.

Allyson Werner, Morgan Hearns and Anne Harber… The wives. The crew. In addition to months of support leading up to the race, our wives followed us to the unmolested single-track trails of the Talladega National Forest to take on crew duties. We would quickly learn how absolutely critical this role was. Much more so than we could have imagined going into the race.

Anne, along with their two boys, Riley and Ethan, took the day shift. Basically the aid stations up to mile 41. They yelled. They cheered. They encouraged. At mile 41, I will be forever indebted to Anne for doing one of the most simple (and gross) things one could ask of someone else – help removing a sock. We had crossed a somewhat deep stream some 10-15 miles earlier. My feet were toast. Socks still wet and covered in junk from the trail. I grabbed a chair at the 41 aid station and proceeded to try and remove my socks. Compression socks at that. I got one, but the other I simply could not. Every time I bent over, my IT band would lock up so bad it would throw me back into the chair. I called on Anne, and not only did she get the sock off but she proceeded to dig her thumb and finger into my hip and help relieve the pressure on my IT band. Had it not been for her, I may not have left the 41 station. I was done. I think for the third time at this point. She then proceeded to hand me her phone. It was Allyson. I don’t remember the conversation. It doesn’t matter. I had new life. And new reason to get to mile 55 where she would be waiting.

The sun set somewhere between miles 41 and 55. We made our way through the darkness and emerged from the hole in the woods into the party scene known as the mile 55 aid station where I was anxious to collapse into Allyson’s arms and hand in my bib. I did just that, fell into her arms. But she and the others were having none of the quitting stuff. She and Morgan had laid out a very comfortable blanket in the parking lot and a literal spread of caloric bliss. I was struggling to put anything in my mouth at this point. Nate and Scott, not so much. They ate plenty for me. Dozing in and out of consciousness, I recall the conversation including the girl’s gymnastics results, our friend Matt Miller pulling out at mile 30, and food. All I wanted was to stay on that blanket. Forever. I wish there was more to it, but Allyson and Morgan both in their own ways looked at me and said something that included ‘Get up. You are going to do this. You are staying with these guys. Stopping is not an option.’ And so, it wasn’t. I stood. I moved. Allyson’s hope and expectation moved me forward.

We repeated this routine… miles 60, 65, 69. Then, it was into the abyss known as miles 69-85 (insert reference to a Kubrick film.) A couple of things got me through, but the main one was simply knowing Allyson was waiting for me. And that she and Morgan expected me to be there with Nate and Scott. I had to stop half way up Horn Mountain around mile 73 and puke for several minutes. I stood there bent over, then was moved by the thought… ‘Ok.. Now go. Allyson is waiting.’ So I went.

And there she was. Mile 85, then 90, 95, and of course at the finish line. She and Morgan had navigated through the night on literally a few hours of sleep providing not just food and supplies, but her. That is what did it. Just her. Being there, telling me I could and not giving me an option otherwise. Without her and the support of Morgan, I would still be laying face down in some remote parking lot of the mile 55 aid station. My love and gratitude is beyond words.

Matt Miller… Killah Millah. The unsung hero of the race. It can easily be argued that Matt is responsible for this ultra madness. He was the seasoned ultra veteran and ultimately the one who identified Pinhoti and moved us toward it. For as long as we’ve known Matt, it’s no secret that his kryptonite is heat. So when we saw in the days leading up to Pinhoti that Saturday was calling for a high in the low 80’s, we knew there could be problems. And unfortunately there were. Matt left the mile 28 aid station and shortly after the body simply broke down. The vomiting wouldn’t stop. Things weren’t working. Versus pressing ahead to the 35 stop and then up the climb of Cheaha, he turned around and back tracked the couple of miles back to 28. A decision that was difficult to say the least, but the right one.

The girls heard Matt had DNF’d and as stated prior had passed along that news to us at the 55 aid station. But we had no other details. As Nate, Scott and I emerged from the dark into the mile 60 aid station, I thought I had in fact begun to loose what was left of my mind. There he was. In the literal middle of nowhere. Matthew D. Miller. Trying to gather my wits and comprehend what was going on, Matt proceeded to explain that the folks running the mile 60 aid station were the same folks that manned the 28 station. When he had returned to 28 to DNF, they nursed him back to life and then he was along for the ride.

What I observed at 60 and the remaining aid stations was one of the most inspirational things I’ve ever been a part of. I’m sitting here in tears even as I type this. I saw a guy who could have easily packed it in. Went back to the hotel and slept. Perhaps sulked, loaded the car and went home. Instead, he came back from the dead and made a decision to help get us to the line. He greeted us with open arms. He scrambled for food and drinks. He spoke encouragement. Not just for us, but for all of the runners. The girls said he owned the stations when he was there. In additional to all of the pressure above, now there was Matt. I wasn’t going to let him down. He stayed to see us – all three of us together – finish. I had no option but to do my part. I was going to finish for Matt. He’d earned that.

As far as the actual race details? Inconsequential really the more I wrote the above. We finished 100 miles in 27 hours, 22 minutes. 63rd, 64th and 65th out of 108 finishers (197 people started the race.)  For me, a song can often sum it up far better than I can. And in this case, it happens to be Rob Base from 1988. I only regret I didn’t have more energy at the finish line to throw some moves (with the white guy, squinty eyed, bottom-lip overbite, of course.)

09.13.09 - Club Wars Intl. Tri @ White Lake

1500 meter swim, 28 mile bike, 10K run

This race wasn’t even close to the edges of the radar at the beginning of the season. However in August, Benji and Hope Jones, NCTS managers for Setup Events, contacted Nick to see if FCA Endurance would be willing and able to come up to White Lake and help work a race with them. We had been working all season long building rapport and a presence with FCA-E and the Setup folks. At first, they were hesitant. But once they saw our huddle’s effort and the value we could bring to them, especially on the novice races, we ended up getting the call like this one.

We had copied the SC huddle by introducing to NCTS the ‘novice table.’ This is a table at the end of the packet pickup line that is to answer any questions any of the athletes may have. Most of these come from the folks that have never raced before or newer to the sport. It has been a hit. Well the call came because this 9/12-9/13 weekend, there was a Saturday all women’s Dash for Divas race. This was going to be 500+ women who for the most part had never done a triathlon. Or it had been a while since they had. So needless to say, the table would be handy.

In return for us helping, Benji offered us one of the cabins at the FFA Campground where the event was held (and also the site for the spring half Ironmans and sprint races) and race entries for Nick and I in the Club Wars International distance race the following day. With these factors in the mix, this was going to be a family ‘camping’ weekend. Allyson and the girls were excited. Allyson and I were a little leery about the whole cabin thing. We’re not really the sleep outside types.

We had a great trip up to White Lake on Friday. Packet pickup was about to be in full swing when we arrived. We first check into our cabin and first assessment was not as bad as I had expected. Cement floor, walls half way up, then screens the remainder of the way. 8 steel frame bunks with a ‘mattress’ on each. And a big ol’ picnic table in the middle. This was what will call ‘glamping’ – or glamorous camping (friend of mine gave that to me on Facebook. Which yes, we also had internet access the whole time.)

Packet pickup was an absolute blast. Working with novice racers is the best. And women are much more laid back and fun about the whole thing. Nick and answered some interesting questions over the next few hours while Allyson and the girls played around on the FHA campsite and in the water. White Lake itself is the huge draw to the area. It is an oval about 6 miles or so around. It is spring fed and pretty much 8 feet deep at its deepest point. You can walk from the shore out nearly 200 yards in some places and be no more than shoulder deep. And you can see the bottom always. The girls think it is the Caribbean.


The next day we worked the race, helped where needed, worked in some swimming with the girls, tested out the ol’ wetsuit (which I had not been in for a while) played some putt putt golf then joined up with our friend James Ruth for a little spin around the race course. And boy did we spin it. We got in a pace line, rode the full 28 miles in about the same time we each raced it the next day. Probably not the best move, but we had a blast riding. Went out and grabbed dinner that night at a local yocal restaurant, then back to the room… err, cabin.

The race itself was a hit. It was a smaller field (couple hundred folks maybe?) and the weather was perfect. Cool fall morning, but certainly not cold. My goals for the race were: Swim – Steady. Good sighting. Push a little but not too much. Bike – Practice for B2B race in 1.5 months. 22 mph avg and 95 rpm’s and hold it. Run – Just run. This was the first race, actually one of the first times on the road at all, running since wrestling with the plantar issue. I was considering a swim/bike/park right up until the day before the race. I decided to go for it and go easy.

The swim was sort of Ironman style – all men at one time versus the usual wave start by age group. I found a groove early on and it was pretty smooth sailing. Not my best swim as a percentile of the field, but not bad either. Came out of the water 10th heading to the bike. My man James Phelps, I mean James Ruth, smoked ‘em with a great swim split. Transition was uneventful and it was out onto the flatlands of Bladen Country, NC. Again, we’d ridden the course the day before so there weren’t any big surprises. Early on I was able to hold the pace and rpm’s I was shooting for. And in fact finished the bike at 22.5 mph and 97 rpms, so right where I wanted to be. Passed a couple of folks on the bike. Got passed by Nick ‘Cancellara’ White who was in great bike shape and zipped by me at some point.

Felt great about the bike and got off feeling good. I got turned around in the TA and the volunteer staff was a little thin for the race. Wasn’t sure where the TA exit/run start was. You would think having done this before and working the race the day before I would know this. Finally got out on the road and the run was feeling great. But I was resolved not to push it. About a mile in I got passed very fast by Tom Crichton, one of the Setup Events employees. He was in my age group and I let him go. No way I was keeping up with him. Then a couple of miles in, came up on Nick. I started running with him and talking a bit. We settled into a great pace. I kept looking back to see if anyone was coming. Nothing. No one. So just kept running.

We hit the turn around at mile 3.1 and started back. There were definitely folks behind us, but no one close or in danger of catching us. So we pressed on. I love out and back run courses because you can see everyone behind you and better yet, encourage them. High five them. This race was actually a triathlon club competition and Nick and I were racing for FCA Endurance. And in team colors. Running together and encouraging folks can be a great outreach opportunity. We had a blast cheering for the other competitors. A few high fives here and there. Good times.

We started into the home stretch last mile, and eventually the left hand turn into the campground and a few hundred yards to go. We decided to have a little fun at the finish line and ‘fight’ to keep each other from crossing first. All captured on film fortunately. Again this was a club competition so you get points for placing in your age group/division. Nick won his age group and I placed third, giving us I think 6 points, which was cool but no where close to what was need to win the overall. But still cool.



So Whats from Club Wars?

- Bike pacing is critical. Exercises like White Lake are great for testing ability to hold a pace and be disciplined to not exceed that.

- Racing is about so much more than racing. The true highlights from the actual race was the time Nick and I were able to spend together being salt and light. Making it about more than the racing. And serving the day before was a blessing as well.

- Sometimes a break from running can help!

Next up would be another international distance ‘warm up’ for Beach2Battleship Half. Heading out to Pinehurst, NC with good friend Brian Goins and a bunch of guys from the Team In Motion Tri Club. New race to the schedule. Looking forward to it.

08.22.09 - Lake Norman YMCA Triathlon

750 yard swim, 13.3 mile bike, 5K run (not)

I think it was after White Lake I started with the plantar fasciitis issue. Probably from a combination of things, but nonetheless, it was with me. I struggled through the month up until Latta, sort of knowing in the back of my head I had an issue. Then by post-Latta, I was faced with the reality of having to address it. I had also started working with friend, coach and local pro, Lance Leo. I’d hooked up with him to help me better prepare for my next half and ‘A’ race in November.

I’d actually started with Lance before I had to come out with the plantar issue. The first few weeks of the schedule were not fun. Or at least the morning after any run workout was not run. Overnight, my plantar fascia would tighten up and when I woke up and tried to walk, it felt like I had a knife in the bottom of my foot and heel. I found myself hopping or scooting to the bathroom in the AM due to the pain. I love racing, but life and walking is much more important. It was time to address the problem.

Long story short, this put me out of running for 11 weeks. As a substitute, I ramped up the bike volume and was working in water running, which was very, very not fun. I also started hitting our chiro/active release doc regularly to really stretch and work out that plantar area. The combination of all these activities seemed to be helping, however I knew I had a bit of a long road ahead of me.

A couple of months into this process was the local Lake Norman Triathlon race. This would be considered the ‘home race’. Part of the NC Triathlon Series. Two day event. At the Y where we are members/regular attenders, Sela’s preschool. 3 miles from the house. Where I swim train. You get the picture. I talked with Lance about the race, my chiro and my ‘other coach’ (Allyson) and the resounding answer I got was no way. After this much hard work and healing, it did not make sense to go out and hammer this race. So I didn’t. Sort of.

The agreement was that I could do two-thirds of it. The swim and bike. No run. This also meant no barefoot 200 yard run from the water to the transition area. So the plan was go hard as I could on the swim, exit the water, walk slowly to the TA, get on the bike, go hard as I could on the bike, and park it. This was going to be tough to do, but I had coach and family eyes watching me.


I worked my way toward the front of the swim wave and the horn went off. Luckily, no traffic at all in the water. Must have found a good pocket and line, as well as got off to a fast start. I felt great on the swim. Of course there is the blinding sun that hits you on the long stretch back to the shore, but that is a LKN race norm. I came out of the water, hit the mat and my split button on the watch and gasped. 13:10! Holy cow. This same race last year was a 15:20. Two full minutes. Since I was in no hurry whatsoever to get to the bike, I stopped to high five Lance who was there at the exit. Also said hey to Allyson and the girls, and patiently made my way to the TA. Smiling, of course. I learned later that just about everyone in the field had demolished their times from last year, which meant the course was probably a tad short. However I did certainly improve, because as a percentage of the entire men’s field, the LKN swim was the best swim finish I’ve ever had.

So onto the bike… which this year was shortened by several miles due to some construction on the course. This was a quite a bummer as we train often on this course and looked forward to seeing what we can do on it. The course ended up taking us down the familiar and very, very hilly Grey Road. Since I had no run to save for, I pretty much went out and rode as fast as I could for the 13.3 miles. It was fun. And a blur. Felt like I was out there for 10 minutes. I got passed late in the ride by a couple of guys from the age group that started behind me. Other than that, it was quiet, smooth sailing. I didn’t pay any attention to stats on the bike. Just pedaled hard. I pulled in and snuck a peek at the Garmin and again was shocked. I’d improved on last year’s mph average by a mile per hour. So I was certainly pleased with that.

There was a very brief, hard rain shower just as I was finishing the bike. Allyson and the family were there cheering. I parked the bike and the day was over. Given the good efforts on the swim and bike made not running more palatable for sure. Until the awards ceremony, which was a bummer. It ends up that if I had just matched last year’s run split, I probably could have placed in my age group. It’s not about winning or awards. It really isn’t. But the chance to place in an NCTS race at the ‘home track’ would have been really cool, especially in the very difficult 35-39 age group. But it wasn’t meant to be. Not on this day. But no big deal.

The day was a blast. So many friends out there racing. Great to be with them and the family enjoying a near perfect day in Cornelius, NC. And probably the best moment was walking back to the car when Allyson told me she was more proud that I didn’t run than if I had and placed. That made the decision all worth it. And I would live to see the next race. And hopefully pain free.