Funny how fate or luck or whatever you would like to call it can intervene when you need it the most. You see, my running has taken a really serious hit the last month or so. I am in the middle of training for The Dances With Dirt 50k in July in Wisconsin. This is my first (you can use that word until you die. Do you realize that? It's never your last or only until it is physically impossible to do something a second time. And that only happens when you die!) ultra-marathon and the training had been going fairly well I thought. I hadn't missed any mileage of any significance or had to cut a run short. No injuries, not even any real aggravating aches or pains to deal with. Since I obviously wouldn't be moving too swiftly in a race of that length I had (I thought) been taking it fairly slow and easy, doing more power-hiking up hills than I would if training for a shorter trail race. I had even completed one timed four-run (around 20 miles I figured) a few weeks ago. This was cruising right along.

Then came a twenty-mile run at Lake Le-Aqua-Na. This park is deceptively hilly but on the smaller side. I figured I could do three loops around it and come in right around twenty. First problem? Forgot my handheld water bottle. I had been pretty good about carrying water with me, which I have almost never done before this year, but I had brain-farted on this occasion and left it at home. All I had was a one-liter Aquafina. Definitely not something you want to carry while running. Still, the first loop went well. I chugged some water and headed out for the second loop and it wasn't long before the wheels started coming off in a big way. Everything seemed to be irritating me. It was too windy. It was too cold. Blah, blah, blah. When I finished the second loop I was moving worse than I think I ever have during a run. If you want to call it running. I could not force my body to move beyond an average walking speed. The last 3.5 miles had taken almost an hour.

I chugged some water and tried in vain to get my act together but it was no use. I was totally frustrated and the thought of basically walking 6 or 7 miles, which would have taken a couple hours over that terrain in the state I was in, was particularly infuriating. I did not want to be out there another 10 minutes let alone two hours. I stumbled out for the third loop, went about a hundred feet, pitched a total hissy fit, and moped back to the car. My apologies to any people within earshot that were trying to enjoy a zen afternoon in the woods. If any of them were children they probably learned a new word or two! Sorry!

After sulking most of the rest of that day I got over it. I bonked the run. Big deal! Not the first time! Happens to literally every runner sometimes. But I had to admit it was a different feeling. My previous experience with bonking was more mental. I would get really wobbly and spacey, lose focus. I could still run, but I just didn't want to. After improving my diet and starting to eat food instead of gels during longer run it never really happened again. This time was different. I literally went from cruising right along, to not being able to run for more than a minute at a time, to not being able to run at all. All in the span of a few miles. The mind was willing but the legs were unable. All the same, I knew it would pass. Just a bad day, right?

Wrong. I tried to run the next Tuesday and had the joy of watching my 13-year-old daughter run on ahead while I stopped to get my breath and walk it out. I took about five walk breaks in the first 2.2 miles. And it wasn't like "Oh, I'm a bit tuckered out, think I will walk for a bit!" More like "Holy crap! I gotta stop and catch my breath! I can't run another step! What were we running? Six minute miles? What? Twelve?????" All humor aside, it was a little scary. Thursday, same thing. Took Friday completely off, no exercise whatsoever. Headed to the Palisades for a ten-miler. Made it three and probably walked half of that. Now it was officially panic time. I was two weeks away from a very hilly Blue Mound 22k trail run and two months out from an ultra. AND I CAN'T RUN!!!

After some research and some support from the Rockford Coyotes FB page, I concluded I likely have a simple case of over-training. I just need to cut it out for a few days and should be good to go. This would obviously affect my fitness for my upcoming runs, especially if this problem lingers. I read that some people have had to battle this over-training issue for weeks or months at a time.

Fast forward to Blue Mound, a tough 22k in Wisconsin. Now I was planning on taking it fairly easy since I was using it as training for the ultra, but it ended taking me almost 3 hours. I was nearly four minutes per mile slower than I was on the same course last year. I felt so terrible the first few miles I was actually considering a DNF. While it was still a lot of fun, it definitely did not do anything to give me confidence that my overtraining issues were in the past. There was no way I could have covered over twice that distance like I would have to at Devil's Lake. Running at the back of the pack was interesting, especially talking to the woman who had was running her first trail race of any kind at Blue Mound (bad idea) and doing all her training on a treadmill (legendary bad choice). The fact that she completed almost fourteen miles on that terrain almost completely untrained was a testament to her toughness but I bet she never, ever does that again! But it did make ME feel better, and that was the important thing!

I actually felt pretty good during this past week, knocking out three decent runs without too much walking but I definitely still wasn't myself. I decided yesterday it was do or die, a twenty mile training run at The Palisades. I felt strong at the start but at about five miles I started have some GI issues that I will not go into detail about and then threw up. Likely it was the medication I started taking the day before for a skin infection (yes, I awoke on Friday with a lump on my neck, probably from an infected bug bite. Just my luck) because I had never thrown up on any run before. Needless to say all the unwanted bodily functions took the wind out of my sails and I called it quits after eight miles.

So the ultra is over. I will try to switch my entry to the half-marathon and if I can't, I will just skip it. The training is just beyond my physical and mental abilities. Everybody had their limitations and it was pretty obvious I had gone past mine. The half at Dances With Dirt is no joke, with almost 2000 feet of elevation gain, so I still will have some work to do to be ready to run respectably there. I will probably run a couple other trail races of similar distances this years and call it good. The funny thing is, Once I got over the initial crushing shame of bailing on my ultra training, I actually felt quite a bit better about the rest of my summer! It suddenly seems so much more enjoyable! A couple of runs during the week, a sweet 10-mile(ish) long trail run on the weekends... makes me wonder if my heart was ever really into the ultra distance. I think I might have liked the idea of SAYING I had completed an ultra more than I actually wanted to do the distance itself. Whatever appeals to people who regularly race 50k, 50 m, or 100 m (gulp!) distances, I just don't think I have it. And if you aren't completely into it and you aren't having any fun, then what is the point? Training for months and putting my body through that kind of punishment simply to add to my meager running resume just seems plain silly. I enjoy the idea of running a half or a 25k, I don't think I ever felt similarly about the ultra now that I look back on it.

So I will run my shorter trail races. Or maybe I won't race at all and just run totally for fun the rest of the summer. I will help my wife direct The Raging Road Rally 5k, get some miles in twice a week with the kids in our Pacers youth running group, and look forward to Coop and Claire's upcoming cross country seasons. Now THAT sounds like fun!