Pam and I arrived in Wrightwood, CA for the AC100 around noon on Friday afternoon. We quickly checked in for the race, got her through the med check, did a little bit of last minute race shopping and then checked in at our hotel. We spent the rest of the afternoon resting and prepping for the race, attending the spaghetti dinner, and turning in early.
Saturday morning, we were greeted with several unlucky glimpses as to how the day would unfold. First off, Pam used the wrong contact solution in one of her eyes and ended up putting a 3% solution of hydrogen peroxide directly in her eye. This caused some pretty major redness, irritation, and some blurry vision for a bit. Then, as we got out of the truck at the start of the race, Pam accidently let the door close on her right knee—no major damage, just a bit of a bruise. Unfortunately, by the end of the day, her knee wouldn’t be the only thing bruised.
After a quick kiss and a reminder to “run slowly” Pam was off on another 100 mile quest. On the first climb through a residential neighborhood, Pam settled comfortably into third place. She stayed there for a while, but somewhere just before the third aid station, the two lead ladies made a wrong and Pam found herself in first place. When Pam showed up at the third aid station, she was running strong and she continued to do so until the fourth aid station.
But by the time I saw her at the 5th aid station at mile 37, things had taken a dramatic turn for the worse. She was still in first, but her pace had slowed, her knees had started to bother her, and she wasn’t eating or drinking as much as she should have been. She felt terrible and we both knew it. But we got her some food and drink, cooled her off with some cold water, and got her back on the road.
One mile after the 5th aid station, I was waiting for her at one of the highway crossings. When she showed up, she told me she wanted to go home, that she wasn’t having any fun, and that she couldn’t make it to the end of the race. But I wouldn’t hear it. I gave her a pat, tried to steal a kiss (which she wouldn’t give me), and sent her on her way—again.
It took Pam a LONG time to run the next four miles to the 5th aid station. I knew she was hurting, but was very hopeful that it was just a “bad patch” and that she would be able to rebound. But as time dragged on, I knew that this wasn’t going to be the case. At this aid station, I recruited another experienced ultra runner to give Pam a pep talk. The pep talk, coupled with a little bit of knee massage by the medic got her back up on her feet towards the next aid station—but she did not look good.
When Pam made it to the next aid station, she had made up her mind to go no further that day. She just didn’t have it in her. She basically hiked the course for the last two aid stations that she made it to and didn’t want to walk the last 48 miles of the course. It was a sad day for her—and for me as well. If you want, you can read her race account here.
So the 25 miles that I was supposed to run with her never happened as she never made it to mile 75. For a while, when I was waiting for Pam to show up at the mile 52 check point, I was preparing myself to walk the last 48 miles with her. I had my pack all ready with enough food and warm clothes to get us both to the finish. It would have been a long slog, through a totally dark and cold night. But I was ready to get it done—I never thought in a million years that Pam wouldn’t finish the race. In the end, her knees had the final say and the word was, “stop.”
It was a long and quiet ride home from the race. I think that Pam thought I was upset with her for not finishing. And I’ll admit that for a little bit I was. We had a short conversation where I compared not finishing a race to fishing or hunting without eating your kill. I said that just as you dishonor the fish by not eating it, you dishonor the race by not finishing it—and she agreed. But I’ve never known my wife to quit anything when the going gets tough; she always perseveres. But this time was different. Pam really thought that continuing the race was going to lead to a major knee injury. She made the smart choice to end her day early so that she could race on a different day.
And race again she will. She’ll come back stronger, fitter, faster, and with a better game plan. For now, we concentrate on getting that knee healed up with ice, massage, and physical therapy. I hope the bruises that the course dealt to her head heal up just as easy. Only time will tell.
{ 15 comments… read them below or add one }
The knee and the eye thing don’t sound like fun at all.
I think there’s a difference between quitting and stopping. If it were a trend for her it would probably be considered quitting. However, it doesn’t sound like a mental collapse was what she had at all. I doubt she’s ever stopped a race half way through. She clearly loves to run (she was running 100 miles for pete’s sake) and for her to say “I’m not having fun” is a pretty good signal that things are bad.
She still needs to be proud of back to back marathons when about .1% of the population of the US has ever run 1 marathon.
This post is a great reminder that sometimes it’s not in the cards. I hope she can cut herself a break and know that there will be another race on another day. That woman, the great Pam, still made it 52 miles, which is incredibly heroic to me.
Beth—Thanks a lot and you’re right, sometimes it’s not in the cards. The hardest thing is that it’s never happened to Pam before so we weren’t prepared (at least I wasn’t) for it to happen. I was really worried about how she would handle it, but she seems OK to me this morning.
Ryan—Thanks for putting it in perspective. She is a rock star and she’ll be back, though I don’t know if she’ll run that one again.
“No pain, no gain” is a crock! Pain is your body’s signal that something is wrong. I’m glad that Pam put aside her ego and listened to what her body was telling her!
You’re a jerk. Hopefully she finds a new man by the next race. A blog post like this should have been kept private. I predict divorce for you.
I would have smacked you with that fish comment. Really? If she’s never quit anything, then obviously, this just wasn’t in the cards for obvious reasons. 100 miles is tough on the body and if she was in that much pain before the race was even 1/4 over, obviously, she didn’t need to be running.
Erin—Part of the problem with writing a personal story on the blog is that it is impossible to relate the context of the entire story. I agree, that the “fish” comment could be construed as “smackable.” BUT, you don’t know anything about the thousands of previous conversations we’ve had regarding competition, racing, and finishing things that you start. You also don’t know when I chose to use that analogy. I can assure you that I picked an appropriate time. Go read Pam’s race report, and her previous comment on this thread. Then you can judge if you’d like.
Brad – I am not sure if you are serious, but I don’t see how Mac is a jerk. He sacrificed his whole day to support me in a race and was even prepared to go the final 48 miles with me, 22 miles farther than he has ever gone in his life! I posted my account of the race on my blog, so I am obviously not concerned about keeping the issue private. If anything, Mac was pretty nice to me in his account. When things weren’t going well for me, I really fell apart mentally and Mac kindly glossed over that in this report.
It was an ugly day for me, but I am okay talking about it (or Mac talking about it).
Although I think some of the previous comments are misdirected and way too harsh, I have to admit that I was pretty surprised reading your post. Why push Pam to keep running if “she told me she wanted to go home, … she wasnÂ’t having any fun, and … she couldnÂ’t make it to the end of the race”? Weren’t her objections and obvious discomfort enough for you to let her throw in the towel? Did you have a pre-race agreement that you’d continue to push her despite her pain and her desire to stop?
It’s impossible to know all of the circumstances around the situation, but the tone of your post definitely implied a hugely overbearing husband, even to someone who knows that’s not the case.
Pam, keep up the awesome work — and good luck next time out!
Cousin Paul—At some point in 100 miles, EVERYONE wants to quit. The crew/pacer’s main job, aside from keeping their runner safe, is to help the racer get through these tough mental patches that surface during the run. If the mind is keeping the body from continuing, then my job is to fix that. At the point that Pam told me she wanted to quit, there was no evidence of injury other than mental fatigue. When the medic got involved with the knee and couldn’t make it feel any better, I became much softer, even though the medic didn’t even suggest that she needed to stop the race.
Glad to hear you all are okay.
When I first read this post this morning, i was a little surprised by the fishing/hunting analogy. It seemed a little harsh, but I was hoping that it was just taken out of context. Seeing Pam’s comment here and blog post definitely demonstrates that.
Funny how our the little window of your persona on your blog can be construed so many different ways and is really just that: A little sliver of your life.
thanks for sharing and letting us in!
I think a lot of the commentors here are not conversant with the ultra way of doing things.
I hope Pam’s knee is getting better.
oooh I was wondering what kind of flames you were going to get on this post. I’m glad to see that on balance things are positive. I crewed an ultra cycling event for good friends, and know how important it is to understand the line between *wanting* to quit and really truly needing to quit. As a crew member you’ve got to know which side of the line your athlete is on, and respond accordingly. But it sure makes you sound like a meanie
52 miles, man, hat’s super human in most books – including mine.
I want to say you really have to know when to fold ‘em, but 52 miles…
Tough day all the way around. It sounds to me like you both handled it well though. For your part, its tough, finding the line between offering encouragement to her vs pushing too hard. After all – she put her heart and soul into training for that race. In your mind, how will she feel in the morning if she stops now? And you’re willing to slog the last 48 miles with her. Kudos to you.
For her part, knowing when to hang it up is one of the hardest things for a runner who has put their heart and soul into that training. Finding that line between running through the pain vs risking serious injury is something each person must find for themselves. You’d expect to hurt in an ultramarathon. But just how much?
Sounds to me like you both handled it as good as can be expected. You offered her encouragement until she made it clear she was done. Even though it was a tough day emotionally and physically, it sounds like the two of you came out stronger for it.