The Sawmill Half Marathon

Maybe I was in over my head from the beginning and just didn't know it. I had heard the name "Sawmill Ultra" at some point in the past, but I knew little to nothing about it. However, when I saw a post in my trail running group about a discounted admission, I thought I would take a look. If it had been nothing but marathons and ultra marathons, I would have been out of luck, but looky looky, they have 5K, 10K, and half marathon distances. I have a goal of running a marathon, and I've been working at the half marathon, so I signed up for the half and thought no more about it.

Then came the Ragnar in early-to-mid May, and a whole new team of awesome runners -- and awesome people. It turned out that I was running the half with a teammate, and two others were running the 10K. Of the four of us on the mountain that day, two actually got on the podium, with a second place in the half marathon and third in the 10K. Go team!

I did ok -- not great -- in the Ragnar . . . but that was three separate runs of 2.5, 4.4, and 7.1 miles, for a total roughly equal to that of a half marathon. They all happened in just over 24 hours, but there was time to rest in between. As an aside, when I saw "I did ok" I simply mean that I was somewhat happy with my performance. It has nothing to do with competing agaihst the other runners, even when I say "I finished last" or "I just want to finish, and not be last". Those are just some tongue-in-cheek mini-jokes. I really do just want to finish. And not get injured. Anyway, before I knew it, the Sawmill was a week away (on Saturday June 3).

Believe it or not, on the day before the race when I started planning my trip and getting some things together, I still did not know whether the Sawmill was a road run or a trail run. I googled it and saw that it is a trail run -- great! Other than wearing trail shoes instead of street shoes, it made little difference to me at the time.

The longer runs were scheduled to start first; the half marathon start time was 8:30. I wanted to have plenty of time and not have to rush, so I set my alarm for 4 AM. Most days I don't sleep well, and Saturday was no exception. I woke up at 2:30 or so, and I left by 6 AM, arriving just before 7 AM. Taking the advice given by race organizers in their emails to runners, I had planned to drive to packet pickup at the Blue Tree Group Camp on Lee Canyon Road, then proceed to the Sawmill Trail trailhead about another mile up the road. When I entered the group camp I saw nothing -- a few cars, but no packet pickup, no signs, no volunteers. I drove around a little and then left, getting back on Lee Canyon Road to try the trailhead. Bingo -- volunteers were there directing traffic, and they let me know where to park and where to go for packet pickup. Unfortunately, the walk was quite long, at least a half mile. Instead of arriving at the parking lot packet in hand and walking to the starting line one time, I had to make that walk three times. I had plenty of time, though, so I chalked it up to a minor organizational cluster, combined with ignorance on my part. Next time I will know what's up, where to go, where to park, etc. Besides, I felt great, it was a beautiful morning on Mt Charleston, and I was *not* at home being a couch potato. :)

At the starting line:

The race organizers did a fantastic job of designing multiple races that were all different lengths, yet could happen at time same time and in the same place. Start times were staggered of course, but the starting line and finish line were literally one line. The key was to define multiple loops of varying lengths using existing trails. I don't recall all details for all the races, but the half marathon consisted of two loops, first blue and then red. The blue loop was about 5.5 miles, and the red about 8.5, so the total distance was 14.0 instead of 13.1, which was not that bad. They could have made the distance precise, but then it would not be possible to have all races start and end at the one spot.

My running was pretty good on the blue loop, I think, all things considered. I am weak going uphill, so I ran the flats and downhill sections and walked the uphills. Somewhere early in the blue loop I fell. I was stepping over a rock and failed to lift my foot high enough, and down I went. I was still in the crowd at that point, so multiple runners reached out a hand to help me up, and they asked if I was ok. I was fine. I landed on my right hand and elbow, and I found that I was rolling onto my left knee. From there I just continued the roll, getting a quick glimpse of the runners behind me and the sky, and then getting up and continuing the run. The best thing about that mishap was how my gear performed. Nothing fell out of my backpack, nothing fell off my head (hat/sunglasses), and my phone (which I was carrying in my left hand) never touched the ground. My "cloth armor" worked as well as could be expected, leaving me with some minor cuts and scrapes on my right knee and left elbow. I chastised myself for not being more careful and resolved to not let it happen again. It did not.

Scraped up elbow and knee:

I think my time for that first lap was an hour and a half, maybe two hours. I had several fast downhill segments, but the big story was the relentless uphill sections of the trail. When I say they were relentless, I mean they kicked my butt. I pushed myself hard in hiking mode and did fairly well, but I was worn out when I got to the end of the blue loop and the beginning of the red. That was the root of my temptation to quit. The first loop had taken nearly everything I had, and I had to do it all again. And then some, since the red loop was 3 miles longer than the blue. The inner voice that said "quit" was having an easy time justifying the recommendation, but another inner voice said simply, "you are capable of continuing". And so I did. I knew my time was going to be huge at the slow pace at which I was moving. I was so worn out that I had a hard time, not just running uphill or on flat ground, but running downhill. On the flip side, I had enough food, water, and medication that it didn't matter. All that mattered was putting one foot in front of the other. But those inclines. . . . They seemed to go on forever.

A couple tangents -- pills, and comparisons. First, I had my morning dose of various medications and supplements before leaving home, so I brought along my mid-day dose and the two mini-doses, one between morning and noon and the other between noon and evening. No way was I going to be around late enough for the evening dose, so I left that at home. That's two packets of pills. I had a third packet that contained salt stick pills. I took two or three of them throughout the run/walk to prevent cramps, and I probably should have taken at least double that number. More on that soon.

When it comes to comparisons, my thought at the time was that I've never had so much difficulty -- mostly physical, but also mental. Later, I analyzed that a bit. Five hours? I've done as much as 13. Fourteen miles? I've done 18. Half marathon? I've done multiple Spartan beasts, each of which was 13 to 14 miles plus obstacles. So why was this so hard? Well, I was in better shape for those other events, the beasts and summit hikes. The broken leg did not bother me at all, really, which is a blessing all by itself. However, while I was in pretty good shape the day I entered the hospital, the day I started running again a few months later I was not. I've come a long way, but I'm not back where I was during the Blue Ridge Relay or the two beasts that I ran last year. So that leads to another thought I had during the race. While cursing the many, lengthy inclined sections of trail, I thought "never again. I never want to go uphill again. . . . Or should I do so much uphill and get so strong that this trail seems easy?" The answer is obvious, depending on whether I plan to continue running trails. The Charleston summit hike is also quite steep, plus it takes longer and covers more miles, so maybe psychology was in play here as well, forgetting past difficulties and focusing on the present one.

The mental part is mental toughness. Mine was weak for a while there. We probably can't stop the mind from thinking of reasons to quit, but we can disregard those thoughts. It took some doing, but I got there. One of what I jokingly refer to as my "secret weapons" is music. I try not to play it when other people are around, so when I was in a secluded part of the red trail, I decided to play an iTunes play list. I looked at my phone and could not see much of anything, so I summoned Siri and said, "Please play iTunes playlist Traffic Jam". I was both amused and disappointed by the reply, which said that such a thing requires an internet connection. It certainly does not require internet connectivity if the songs are stored locally, and the songs on that playlist are local! I found some shade to keep the screen out of direct sunlight and started it up myself. When I have some run left in me, those songs are usually enough to draw it out and increase my speed a bit. Not this time; I was drained. I let it play though, for a good long while.

Two physical issues that I struggled with were cramps and general pain. The pain built gradually with each step, kicking in mostly during the last half of the course. No surprise there. My muscles were screaming, as early as mile 4. The cramps started at the beginning of mile 12. There was no one else around, and spotty cell phone signal at best, leaving me to wonder what I would do about a plan B, if the need arose. Plan A was to take another salt tablet and spend some time stretching, both of which I did. The cramps -- feet, calves, thighs, and groin -- never completely went away, but they faded enough that I was able to get moving again.

After walking for a while, I saw on my tracker that I was at the 10 mile point . . . only 4 left, wahoo! Funny how 4 miles can seem like a lot or a little, depending on the situation. Those miles definitely did not pass quickly. The last mile in particular annoyed me to no end. The general pain had reached an intensity that made me cranky, and so I cursed the "useless mile" every step of the way.

Almost every step. When I got close to the campground and ultimately the finish line, I saw that my two teammates who ran the 10K earlier in the day had waited for me and were cheering me on. Wow! I assure you, that was no short wait. They may have started their race 15 or 30 minutes after me, but they completed their run long before me, hours earlier. What a wonderful way to finish! They brightened my whole day. I actually broke into a run, or at least a slow jog to the finish line.

Video from Facebook; let me know if you can view it
https://www.facebook.com/100001229196813/videos/814939472993763/

The race owners had provided burgers, hot dogs, and beer -- free for all the runners, and reasonably priced for everyone else. The even saved some for me! I initially declined the beer, thinking that I was dehydrated and needed water, and that I would have enough trouble driving home without consuming alcohol. However, after I got myself a burger and took a bite, I changed my mind. I could barely chew that burger, and there was no way I would be able to swallow any of it. Not the burger's fault (nor the chef's), it was just that my mouth was so incredibly dry. So it was a bite of burger and a swig or two of beer until finished.

We stood around chatting for a while, and then I made my fourth and final trek between the finish line and my car. Driving was not terrible, and I got as far as Kyle Canyon Road before pulling over to take a nap. I set my alarm for 30 minutes, but I woke up after 9 of them had ticked by. I did end up getting some sleep, though: 7 hours overnight, which is unheard for me these last few years. Praise the Lord!

The last thing worth mentioning is that those cramps came back, while I was driving down I-15. My right leg was effected pretty bad, but with cruise control I was able to move it a little. That did't do any good, so I rubbed it as best I could and tried to stretch it. When I had to turn off cruise control, I thought it might help to reach my left foot over to work the gas and brakes . . . but then it too exploded into cramps. It was a little dicey from about Spring Mountain down to Blue Diamond, but then the cramps released somewhat and I was able to get home without further difficulty. That drive sucked, but at least traffic was moving fast. The cramps in both legs and feet came and went the rest of the day, but thankfully they did not interrupt my sleep.