Dealing with "Failure"

I've never had to write a post race report for a DNF before. I'm in no way shape or form embarrassed or ashamed of my DNF at Miwok, it is what it is, but that's not to say I don't have some thoughts on it. The first couple weeks post race you could say I was all up in my feels about it for various reasons. I didn't want to talk about it to everybody, I only wanted to share my thoughts on it with people who I knew would understand it. Almost a month has gone by now, and I think I've generally processed everything. It was a DNF due to injury, one I knew I was dealing with going in, so it wasn't a surprise when I had to drop. It was a very difficult decision that only made more rational sense to me in the days post race. It turned out to be a bigger issue than I had thought, and I'm glad I made the call when I did, otherwise I'm sure I'd be in a more precarious situation now. I'm always telling everyone to do the "smart" thing, so thankfully, I did just that.

I've been banged up since I crashed last year in El Paso during a 55k. I pushed through training and was able to get through Gorge Waterfalls 100k that April. After that, I took a break and kept it mellow over the summer with only one triathlon. I wasn't running a ton, and when I started ramping it back in September I discovered some of the issues I had from my crash were still there. Mainly, a foot injury. It took so long to get through it, about three months of rehab and low mileage. It wasn't until January of this year that I was able to start building mileage and workouts. My fitness was pretty low, so I had to really push to get to where I wanted to be. Of course, I would re-injure the same foot in April right in the middle of my last training block for this race. I got over it fairly quickly, so we built my mileage back up for a few weeks and about a week before the race I started having knee pain. I've never had any knee issues before, so it was a little weird, but we did everything we could to keep it in check, and I still thought I would be okay for race day.

Once we got to California, I was feeling alright. It was up and down, but seemed good enough. Race morning I felt fine. I was confident in my fitness, at least for finishing, it was just a matter of the knee staying solid. Miwok is 100k's (62 miles) and 11,000+ feet of vert, several good climbs and downhills, not too much flat stuff and not terribly technical. It's generally a "runnable" course. The forecast was rain, and rain it did! The first 3 miles is a 1500 foot climb up the Dipsea stairs. It was pretty much a conga line, and I was stuck back of mid-pack. I was okay with that, it kept me slow and I could feel my knee, but it seemed to warm up by the time we got to the top. Once we peaked out the trail opened up and we had a nice long downhill. I took the opportunity to pass as many people as I could and get some time back. I felt really good during that part. I ran into another conga line for about 3 miles as we traversed some single-track into an aid station. From there we began another big climb, I was feeling great, and just trying to stay patient. My climbing legs were not as solid as usual, but I was still moving well and passing people. By then the rain and wind was really strong. Temps were high 50's, so it wasn't too bad, just wet and a little unnerving on the ridges and narrow sections of trail. The trails were soaked, sections of standing/running water and mud, but traction was fine and no sticky mud. I don't think it was slowing me down a whole lot. I was flying through aid stations and staying right in the middle of my race plan. My nutrition was on point, everything was going well. The only bummer was the weather and not being able to see the beautiful coast of California.

Around mile 20 is when it started feeling like an ultra to me as we hit the 4th big climb, but I was still catching people and moving well. My stomach was good and I had lots of energy, just feeling the legs some as I climbed, and settling into my all day pace. Downhills were still good, and I was confident I was going to have a good day. I cruised through the mile 26 aid station feeling fine, looking forward to mile 30 where I would see Crystal and take an extended stop to change socks and eat a little more. Once I hit the bottom of the hill and started to climb again, things changed dramatically. For whatever reason, my knee just started to tighten up. Each step got harder and harder, and it got to where I couldn't push any force through it at all. It wasn't painful, necessarily, it just wasn't functioning like it should. I topped out that climb and had a steep technical downhill, which was okay. I was having a hard time going down the steps, but still moving. There was a bit of up and down through some tight muddy sections, which were okay. I began passing people again, thinking it was perhaps a temporary thing and I was going to be alright, but we hit one more longer sustained climb and the same thing happened. I was able to run the downhill into the aid station till it flattened out at which point my knee began to have a hard time again.

C found me and we went to the car to get warm and eat. Sitting in the car it got worse, I kinda knew it was done, but I still didn't want to make that decision. I ate and drank some Coke, flip-flopping with continuing or not. Crystal seemed to know it was done too, and I knew it was the smart thing to do, I just didn't want to do it. I got out of the car and wobbled over to the aid station captain and turned my bib in. I'm still uneasy thinking about that moment. I've never felt that good at the halfway point of a 100k. Other than my knee, I was in great shape, I was on pace for a huge PR... everything was clicking till then. That's what made it so tough to stop.

I got back in the car and we made our way back to the hotel, I made my jokes and carried on in my way that I do in these types of situations. Nothing else to do, but make light of it. Upon peeling the KT tape off my legs, I noticed the considerable swelling around both knee caps. It gave me a little comfort knowing it wasn't just in my head. We had a great time the rest of the day, and honestly had a great trip.

I spent the next two weeks seething beneath the surface, mostly beneath the surface, also above the surface... I was pissed. I'm still kind of pissed, and I will be till I have redemption. Shit happens sometimes, it's beyond our control, and every now and then it happens at a bad time. This was my Western qualifier for the year. It's a good chunk of change to make that trip, plus all the training and time invested. Not an ideal situation to have a DNF. However, we do have control over how we deal with things in the aftermath. I'm not the type to take myself too seriously, or wallow in self pity. I know full well you can take these types of things and turn them around and use them as fuel for the next one. I've had bad races in the past, and I generally come back better. It can be great motivation.

Failing is part of life. I failed to finish this race, but is it a "failure?" Context and perspective matter. One single day does not determine who you are or what you're capable of. I went out and took a big swing on a day when the odds were 50/50 at best. It was a DNF, but I found out some things. By far my best executed race in so many regards. I ran a little over 30 miles and almost 7k of vert in 6 hrs and 19 minutes. That's pretty fast for me on that type of terrain. Nutrition has been one of my biggest issues, and I've improved so much on that. But the big one for me is, I'm not even fit yet! I've got so much more in me and I know it. This race showed me that. I learned a lot in the build up and found some things I might not have otherwise seen, and when I do put it all together it's going to be really fun.

The other thing I think about is where this fits in the context of my life. I've never let sports be the dominant part of my identity. It's a big part of my life, as a coach and athlete, but I've learned my lessons on putting too much stake in it a long time ago. It's rare that things like this happen with me, but I don't get all bent out of shape about it when it does. As the saying goes, "sun rise, sun set..." It's a good part of my life, and I keep it that way. And it's nice that at 45 years old, and a lifetime of training and competing, I still feel like I have a lot to look forward to, and a lot of untapped potential to discover. It's exciting and I'm grateful to still be doing it.

As always, thanks to my wonderful wife for making this so much more fun and keeping me balanced in more ways than one! Thanks Miwok folks, it's a great race and I'm pretty sure I'll be back at some point to finish it. On to the next one!

Race photos by Tony DiPasquale and Jacob Banta

Thanks for reading,

FF