OBX Ultramarathon Recap - Revenge of the Soft Sand

Great weather, great setting, great volunteers, great small group of participants, great race director, great T-shirt, great finisher ‘medal’, great experience.

And yet, I find myself conflicted as to whether I would recommend this race to someone without making sure they know what they are getting into.  I suppose that’s true of most any distance race.  Running a distance race on a beach is challenging.  Running a distance race on the beaches of the Outer Banks is a mental and physical rollercoaster.  Soft sand makes for a very interesting day of running.  However, when this is what you’re looking at around an hour into the race, even soft sand doesn’t seem so bad.

The race started at 5AM, and despite waking up just after 2AM, I still managed to roll into the parking lot with only 15 minutes to spare before the start.  Made a quick trip to the bathroom – yes, a real bathroom with running water and everything … huge plus for this race, and got to the starting line with 7 minutes to spare.  Temperatures were already in the 60s, but there was scattered fog and it felt pretty good for running.  A couple quick pictures of the 27 folks that made it to the start, and we were off.

The first couple of miles take you North along the beach road until you literally reach the end of the road and end up on the beach in a stretch known for a population of wild horses.  Sadly we saw no horses, continued North for a little while longer, then made a turn and headed South down the beach where we would continue to head for the next 29ish miles.  It was just starting to get light at this point, and there was patchy fog on the beach with an unusual stillness to the air.  The houses in this area are out on the beach and are very large, and in the early morning light and fog they looked like something out of a movie.  Pictures didn’t quite capture the moment, but I tried anyhow while I ran.

 The beach at this point was very wide, flat, and well-packed, boosting my confidence that this wouldn’t be as difficult as I thought.  Silly, silly me.

Miles 1-14:  “The sand is my friend”

The first 2 miles were on the road, and the next 12 were on sand that was generally flat and well packed.  I was aiming to settle into around a 9:30 pace, and was generally on that pace, just a little faster.  Although a little warm, the morning couldn’t have been any nicer.  The seas were very calm, and small pods of dolphins could be seen just a few hundred yards offshore at several points during the run.  The sand makes for a little more effort when running, and really rewards a midfoot strike versus sinking your heels into the sand.  My legs felt good throughout this stretch.

We had to stop at each of the three aid stations, so I took my time at the first station around mile 8, topping off the fuel belt, getting a couple pictures taken, and even taking pictures of the volunteers, including the race director.  Life was good, and my confidence was high.  Running without a time goal is very freeing.

Race director Zach on the left - awesome guy

Miles 12 through 22 are through sections with only private beach access, so no spectators/crews were allowed in this stretch.  The last crew option was at mile 11.4.  This meant if someone was going to meet me it would be around 6:45 in the morning.  In the interest of marital harmony, rather than ask my wife, I asked my dad to meet me at this stop with some drink refills and shoes and socks in case I needed a change (we were staying with my parents for the race).  With no porto-johns allowed on the beach, this was also the last public restroom option available until around mile 23.  I may or may not have already taken care of my internal fluid levels a little earlier on the dunes, so I didn’t need the restrooms or the change of clothes.  A couple more pictures, a change of drink bottles, and I was back on my way.

The going stayed good until right around mile 14.  High tide was around 7AM.  Soon after 7AM I hit the 14 mile mark.  Right around the 14 mile mark the sand took a cruel, cruel turn towards soft.  The kind of soft where you’re battling for traction.  The kind of soft where you wonder if walking would be faster than running.  The kind of soft that makes you question your choice in races.

Miles 15-31: “Who the hell put all this sand here?”

The second half of this race was mentally and physically tough.  The sand turned soft and stayed soft from miles 14 to around 27.  After that it got a little better, but my legs were so tired that I was having to mix in some stretches of walking.  There were times when the sand got so soft that I switched to walking because it really was faster than trying to run and just drilling holes with your feet.  I knew there would be some soft sand in the back half of the race based on my run about a month ago, but this was much worse than I expected.  Through mile 15 my slowest moving pace was 9:45/mile.  After that nothing was under 10:24, with a slowest mile at 14:16.  It was frustrating and mentally taxing.  Eventually I fell in with another runner and we commiserated and tried to encourage each other.

The third aid station was at mile 24.3.  My wife and kids were waiting for me at this one, and I’ve never been so happy to see them.  I lingered as long as I could, got doused with cold water, readied myself for the push to the finish, and set off again.

Still able to smile .... who do I think I'm fooling?

My top-notch crew in action

Should have done a lot more of this

At this point the temps were in the 70s, and the sun was in full effect on the beach.  My fueling plan had held up well, so my stomach was holding strong.  I was actually feeling a little dehydrated, and could have used one more aid station.  I got in a pattern of running .9 miles, and walking .1, which helped with the tiredness and dealing with the still squishy sand.  Finally the finish was in sight, and about a quarter mile from the finish my son showed up to run in to the finish line with me.

Some unexpected and much appreciated company for the finish

Me and my boy ... good stuff

 I don’t think I went more than about 10 feet past the finish before I slammed on the brakes.  Stopping was a beautiful thing.

Put a fork in me ... I'm done

Lots more post-race pictures, a quick dip in the ocean to ‘ice’ my legs, and this one was in the books. 

My biggest fan ... the feeling is mutual

The Stallman men

 

Still cheering for their boy ... still makes me smile

The rest of the day was a quick lunch, a post-race party with some free beers at a local brewery, the infamous fish taco dinner at Mama Kwan’s (heavenly).  And an early bedtime after just 3 hours of sleep the night before the race.

Overall this was a great experience.  The race was extremely well run, and the small size of it gave it an intimate feel that was fun and made things like the post-race party a possibility.  They tried to make everything local.  Instead of finisher medals they gave out drawings of the Currituck Lighthouse (the start of the race) by a local artist that were numbered n of 35, where n was your place in the race.  Here’s the one I got for finishing in 5^th place (5:34:49).

They gave awards for the top three finishers, which were duck decoys carved by well-known local artists, along with a writeup on the decoy and the artist.  The shirts and the logo were very cool, and my shirt actually fits, which has been hit-or-miss for me in other races.

Overall I would recommend this event, but would caution that folks know what they’re getting into with the possible sand conditions.  The thing with the beaches here is the conditions could be completely different next year.  They actually could be completely different next week.  All a function of tides and storms.  These beaches are constantly moving and changing, regardless of how much the residents may try to fight it.

My legs felt surprisingly good a couple days out from the race, and the only thing with some lingering discomfort is my right knee, which doesn’t feel any worse than it did in the couple weeks leading up to the race.  Fingers crossed I may have made it through a race without a visit to my orthopedist friend.  Glad to have this one done, and looking forward to whatever may come next.

Maybe time to go even longer???

Uh Oh

Signing up for a 50k run almost entirely on the beach.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I’m still trying to effectively process what I ‘learned’ this weekend with my trial runs on the Outer Banks.  I had concerns going in regarding wearing regular road shoes for the run, but my Gel Nimbus seemed like they did ok.  I was wondering about relative effort running on sand versus roads, and it’s definitely more work on the sand, but not exponentially more.  Overall I feel good about my fitness level, and feel like my training is right on track for the next 5 weeks.  However, the beaches of the Outer Banks are a questionable location for a beach marathon.

The OBX beaches are very, very narrow.  There’s a reason the houses and roads are claimed by nature every time a hurricane rolls through.  The Outer Banks also take a beating when big storms roll in, which is why the Weather Channel loves sending their folks there to stand in ponchos and get the crap kicked out of them by the storms.  As a result, the beaches are not only narrow, they are also heavily angled towards the sea.  It’s also typically very windy in the Nags Head area.  The Wright Brothers didn’t pick this place to do some flying because of calm skies.

My trial runs consisted of an 11.5 mile run on Saturday morning, and a 12.5 mile run on Sunday morning starting where I finished on Saturday.  Aside from the first half-mile on Saturday, all the running was on the beach.

Saturday morning was fairly warm, and the first 4 miles were on a rare stretch of beach that was fairly wide, so I could run close to the water on nicely packed sand.  It didn’t really feel much different than a normal run on asphalt, and I was holding about an 8:30 pace.  Around mile 4 it started raining, and also around that time the beach got more narrow, and packed sand was hard to find.  Unfortunately, packed sand remained hard to find for the rest of the run.  My pace slowed to around 9:30, and I was weaving like I was drunk trying to find someplace where I could get a good foothold.  No such thing.  Net result, 11.51 miles at 8:59 pace.

I felt good at the end, and felt good about my gear, but was concerned about the overly soft sand and narrow beaches.  I spent several sections basically running in the ocean because moving any further up the beach would have put me in the dunes with sand up to my knees.  The downside of having spent so much time in the Outer Banks is that I knew the stretch of beach I would be running on Sunday, and knew it had the potential to be much worse.  At least the weather forecast was for sunshine and cooler temperatures.

Never trust the weather forecast.

Woke up Sunday morning to 20-25 mile per hour winds from the North/Northeast, temperatures in the low 40s, and menacing grey skies.  Sundays run was much harder than Saturday.  My legs felt good, no soreness and decent spring in my step, but the conditions were tough.  Very narrow beaches and very soft sand meant lots of time with wet feet and wobbly footing.  Thankfully the wind was mostly at my back, and because of the rain on Saturday it wasn’t blowing sand and sandblasting me.  The storm had created a shelf in the sand, which left the option of running below the shelf in somewhat packed sand and getting caught regularly by waves, or running above the shelf in sand that proved to be way too loose.  It never did rain, so I was able to keep my Garmin on my wrist and listen to music, but the footing was tough.  I don’t think the shoes would have mattered.  It got bad enough at one point that I was 2min/mile slower than I was on Saturday, without trying to be slower.  Net result, 12.48 miles at 9:28 pace.

I felt tired at the end, and could really tell I had been running on heavily sloped terrain.  I’ll call it a tie, but had we gone to the scorecards I think the beach might have gotten the win.

I’m now picturing stitching these two runs together on a single morning, and adding another 7 miles, and thinking this is going to be a long day.  I had convinced myself that maybe the tide had been close to high both days, and that was why the beach seemed so narrow and the water seemed so high.  When I got home I looked up the tide tables and found out that not only was the tide not high, it was actually an outgoing tide and was completely low around the time I finished.  On race day the tide will be high at 7AM … the race starts at 5AM … uh oh.  Also, race day has the highest tidal coefficient of the month, which, according to the website, means "we will have big tides and the currents will also be very evident".  Good times …. good times.

Bottom line this is going to be a serious adventure.  I’m still very excited about it, and all 35 of us will be in the same boat …. or might possibly be better off actually being in a boat.

The harder the race, the better the beer tastes at the end.

Running on Sand

5 weeks to go until my first 50k.  Suddenly it all seems very real.

I’ve been plugging away at my training plan and staying fairly healthy, and haven’t really given a lot of thought to the specifics of the race.  Now that it’s visible on the horizon, I’ve started contemplating the biggest factor that will be a major deviation from my training.  29 of the 31 miles are on the beach.  Total training experience running on the beach, life-to-date:  0 miles.

I’m really undecided on the whole shoe factor.  Lots of folks insist on running barefoot or in minimalist shoes on sand.  I certainly understand this, but it would be too major a departure from what I usually do when I run.  I’ve pondered the pros/cons of wearing trail-running shoes, but haven’t found any specific info either in favor of or opposed to trail shoes on sand, and I would need to buy a pair and quickly break them in before I’d try them out in a race.  Lots of information against road shoes on the beach, especially with regards to the heel digging in too well and ramping up the effort much higher than a regular run.  What to do …. What to do??

This weekend I’ll be heading to Kitty Hawk to visit my parents, specifically to try two longish runs on the beach to see what I’m up against.  My plan is to lace up an older pair of my trusty Gel Nimbus, and see how they do.  As long as I stay near the water line in the more packed sand I’m thinking this will work out fine for me.  I’m going to start Saturday morning’s run from the actual marathon start and go for 10-11 miles.  Then Sunday, depending on how I’m feeling, I’ll start from around where I stopped on Saturday and put in another 10-12 miles, making any gear adjustments I think are needed based on Saturday’s experience.  Hopefully the weather cooperates.  The weather is always a roll of the dice in the Outer Banks.

In related news, my legs have been exceptionally cooperative lately.  No significant injuries, and generally just wanting to move fast (or fast for me).  I’ve dropped several pounds since the start of February, and I’m attributing a lot of this to the weight loss.  Amazing what a difference it has made in pace and general endurance.  Yesterday morning I did 8.3 miles at an average pace of 7:39, which I’m pretty sure is the fastest 8 miles I’ve ever run.

It didn’t feel effortless, but it did feel good.  Hopefully I can keep this vibe going over the next 5 weeks.