Heartbreak Hill

Comparison of Boston Marathon and Capital Peak Ultra-Marathon Elevation Profiles

Yesterday, I successfully completed the entire 50 miles of the Capital Peak Ultra-Marathon, running a time of 8:53.  At ten minutes slower than last year, the times are fairly comparable.  However, I feel like the efforts were miles apart.  Although last year I suffered greatly during some portions of the race, I still enjoyed it;  Kathleen, with whom I ran much of it, provided me with companionship and motivation.  This year there was only immense suffering, an absence of joy, and no comradery.  

As some of you may know, I rolled my ankle fairly severely in December, putting my training off until late January.  Then at the end of March I contracted a severe sinus infection that ruined night after night of sleep.  Fortunately a two week regimen of antibiotic was eventually able to stem the tide of gunk flowing from the cavities in my head.  This left me with marginally two and a half months of time to seriously train.  These are not excuses for my performance but reasons why I was unable to arrive at the start line fully prepared.

Although I started the race with my two friends, Andrew and Andrew, there was no assumption that we would run together.  One had trained like a machine and the other had two decades of experience to rely on.  I knew that both would soon leave me behind to run my own race.  Within a few miles, I fell in with a small pack that included, surprisingly, Kathleen.  She remembered me from last year, and we chatted briefly before also parting ways.  By the time I left Aid Station #2 at 9 miles, I was essentially running alone.  On the initial climb to the top of peak, I passed nearly a dozen people and continued to feel quite strong as I began the loop back around to begin the "grunt mile" on the second trip up to the summit of Capital Peak.  This is where things really began to fall apart for me.  

At mile 20 I was 3.5 hours in and still not having any fun.  In fact I thought about pulling the plug and dropping down into the 55k course to finish.  My reasons for doing this were fairly simple (lungs weren't working right, I was too much in my head, my feet were killing me, etc.), yet I thought of Jeannette and the promise that I had made to her: I would do everything in my power to finish all 50 miles.  The pledges my sponsors had made were also in the back of my mind.  They had demonstrated their faith in me by making a commitment to support the effort.  I had to do right by them as well.  Therefore I made the agonizing decision to continue on the 50 mile course.  

I swear that when I arrived at Aid Station #6 (29.6 miles) there was a tiny man in a sombrero and Mexican poncho.  He greeted me with an upbeat "Hola", and I simply responded to this bizarre illusion with the idiotic, "Did I run all the way to Mexico?"  Was he real?  If not, then who refilled my water bottles while I crouched to ease the ache in my knees?

The 5.7 miles from Aid Station #6 to the place where you begin the long descent off the ridge line was bad for me last year and nearly as much this year as well.  Along this stretch, you begin to cross paths with the runners headed out while you are headed back.  The pitch of the trail is generally in their favor, so chugging back uphill is exacerbated by their long strides and easy demeanor.  At this point I could feel blisters forming beneath my nail beds and between my toes.  A change of socks and shoes as well as Bodyglide was waiting for me at Aid Station #7.  I just had to tolerate the discomfort until then.

When I finally arrived, I was fortunate to have the assistance of Becca and Shana who refilled my stock of gels and fluid as well as helped me into dry shoes.  Troopers that they are, they cleaned up after me including my disgusting and soaked Cascadias.  For a moment, as I sat in the delicious comfort of that chair tending to my angry feet, I thought again of just pulling the plug.  I knew that fresh shoes were just a stop gap measure.  They had offered to help me lance the blisters, but I declined knowing that with all the sloppy mud left to run through, doing so was risking getting foul water in the wounds.  I absolutely did not want to continue, but I stood up and jogged back into the woods. 

Again I thought of my commitment to Jeannette and the principle that I was trying to illustrate for her as well as all of my students.  If I quit, it would not have been because I couldn't finish, only because I didn't have the will to finish.  As if to illustrate that point, the last fifteen miles were pure agony.  My feet were stoic and putting up their best fight.  My quads, although trashed, seemed to relish proving that despite their depleted state they still had some mileage left in them.  It was my mind that was gone at that point.  (Remember the hallucination of a Mexican in a poncho?)  For six hours I had been running by myself.  Rarely was anyone with earshot.  Often it seemed that I was the only person on this 50 mile long ribbon of mud and rocks and sand, and this messed with my head.

As much as my body was trashed when I crossed the finish line, it was my psyche that truly lay in tatters.  A group of people, including my four friends, were milling about eating and drinking in the afternoon sun.  Exiting the chute, I headed to the deserted corner of the parking lot, dumping my hydration belt as I went.  A wave of emotion was poised to overtake me, and I was reluctant to let it all come apart publicly after having suffered so privately for so long.  Eventually I dropped into a squat and allowed the relief of finishing to finally overtake me. 

We live in a world ready to laud our greatest successes and condemn us for our worst failures, but in reality most of our day to day existence is neither triumph nor tragedy.  This race, this effort, was neither success nor failure.  It was merely coping and making do until the end was finally reached.  The goals that we set are only significant in relation to what we have done in the past.  For me, it is hard not to feel like the ultra was a failure because of a slower time and greater suffering throughout.  No one was there to witness those private moments when I faltered on the trail and felt like crawling to the next aid station was a legitimate option, so they only saw the final result which was completion of the whole 50 miles.  That must equal triumph, right? 

The comparison at the top of the page is meant to illustrate the relative nature of success.  Before I starting running ultras, I had completed a series of marathons.  Although Boston was not one of them, I use it as a comparison because of its famous Heartbreak Hill, which is the last of four climbs between miles 16 and 21.  Rising just 88 feet over 4/10ths of a mile, it is the final climb for the course.  I had my own Heartbreak Hill yesterday; however mine was not a stretch of asphalt or section of trail but rather a state of mind.  Somewhere around mile 40 I realized that adrenaline could not keep the pain at bay and that I simply would not make the goal of besting last year's time.  But I would finish despite the doubt that had crept in along the way.  Defeating that hill was not a physical accomplishment but a psychological one: how appropriate for a scholarship that seeks to reward determination and perseverance over academic skill or financial need. 

The Scholarship Award Goes to...

I am pleased to announce the winner of the 2012 Endurance Scholarship.  It is Jeannette Selvas Orozco.

As a junior, Jeannette realized that she was significantly short of credit and was faced with the question, “Would I make it?”  She then made the biggest decision that she had ever had to make: Jeannette decided to enroll in the Oregon National Guard Youth Challenge Program in Bend, Oregon.  Willingly and freely she entered a boarding school environment that is built on a foundation of strong discipline, extreme structure, and rigid protocols (the contents of a student’s personal locker have prescribed places: choice reading book on the right side of the second shelf; socks rolled and placed just so).  She did not just survive in this new school; she thrived.  Jeannette was recognized as one of the top 5 cadets in her platoon and honored for academic excellence and high achievement in physical education.  With dreams of boxing in the Olympics and becoming a law enforcement officer, she has a clear vision for herself in the future.  As she clearly articulates in her application, Jeannette refuses to be just another Mexican-American teenager who didn’t make it. 

I had the opportunity to listen in on my panel’s conversation, and many of the same themes recurred from the discussion they had last year about Caleb Dron, my first scholarship winner.  They saw in both applicants a person who was living their future dreams through their present actions.

I would like to write more about her experiences which have led to this point as soon as she and I have the chance to meet and talk about what she feels comfortable sharing with a wider audience.  I hope to do this sometime next week, so please check back for more information about her story and her journey.

It is my absolute honor and privilege to run for her on Saturday.  The shirt that I am wearing today (pictured above) is in honor of her and her accomplishments and will be the one that I will run in during the race.  Having her name on my back will certainly motivate me to run all 50 miles with heart and drive.    

Decision

Last night my panel was hard at work discussing the candidates for the scholarship. The letters of reference were weighed against the student’s responses to the essay questions. The life experience of one was considered in relation to the life experience to the other. Ultimately they came to a unanimous decision, but I am not going to share their choice until I have the opportunity, tomorrow, to speak to their choice personally.

Needless to say, I found it profoundly interesting that the members of my panel brought into their discussion their own personal experiences: as a psychologist, as someone who works with adolescent girls, as writers of applications, and as seekers of references. Each has witnessed their own version of perseverance. Their conversation was colored, for the better, by how they individually saw the world. The fact that they all came at it with a unique lens makes their unanimous decision all the more wonderful and significant.

I am profoundly proud to run on Saturday with this person’s name on my shirt and for their future as my cause. It motivates me and moves me emotionally. I look forward to sharing my panel’s choice with them tomorrow.

Application Due Date

Tomorrow the applications for the scholarship are due. Currently I have two in my possession, which I received today, and expect four or five more to come in before the end of the day. My panel of three has been assembled. Their task will be to sort through these applications this weekend and make their determination.

The group has asked for guidance: how to choose? The same issue was raised last year. They needed to weigh the life experiences of one individual versus that of another. It is horribly subjective, entirely personal, and ultimately gut decision. What is clear, though, is the set of values that the scholarship seeks to support.

First, the applicant should demonstrate that they are truly dedicated to their education. This does not mean that they are 4.0 student or in challenging classes. Instead they see the intrinsic value in becoming an educated person and are willing to make sacrifices to reach their aspirations. This person may struggle to find academic success, but they make that success their primary focus.

Second, the applicant should demonstrate that they have had significant and longstanding barriers to their educational success and that they have been proactive in trying to surmount them. This is not a chance to tell the best "woe is me" story. Although it is easy to be sympathetic to the trials that they have faced, the panel should be focused more on how the student has worked to overcome the barriers that they have faced. Ideally, these impediments have been an issue for a long time (i.e. not just a few months or even a year) and are academic and not just personal in nature.

Third, the applicant should demonstrate that they have forward momentum. I want them to find someone who will keep going and who will fulfill their dreams. The panel will look to the recommendations for insight regarding the likelihood that this will happen. As well, they will need to listen the voice in the student's writing. In their words, do they hear motivation, determination, and drive? The scholarship is a one time award. It is a launching pad from which a young person can take the next academic steps. After that they will be on their own.

I do not envy the task that the panel has. I watched the process last year, and at times there was tension between the members. Each felt like they had a dog in the fight. Yet it was truly remarkable to see them come to genuine consensus regarding their ultimate choice.

I hope to have their decision posted by early next week.

Setbacks

Today I had a phone consultation with my doctor regarding a case of sinusitis that I have acquired. For a week now, I have been ejecting from my head all the colorful fluids that one associates with a sinus infection. His prescription of amoxicillin was welcome. My fear all week was that the junk in my head would move to my chest. Twice in the last year I have struggled with a bronchial infection: last June and then in November. With three weeks to go before the ultra, I am very concerned about the effects that this will have on the race.

Preparing this year has been a series of setbacks for me such as the sprained ankle which inhibited my early training. I thought that preparing last year with an eight month old to look after was hard; now he is twenty months old and full of energy. Chasing a toddler around does little to prepare one for running 50 miles, but it takes a lot away from one's ability to rest and recoup after the long runs. The sinusitis is just one more hurdle to cross.

This project is about rewarding and supporting kids who have shown a dogged determination to surmount obstacles being perpetually thrown in their way. As I started thinking in the fall about preparing for this run again, I cockily presumed that it would be substantially easier than last year. After all, I would have my previous experience to rely upon. Fittingly enough, I really need now that experience more than I thought I would given the state of affairs; preparation has proved to be much more challenging than I thought it would be.

Training and preparing this year has demonstrated some crucial concepts for me relative to the values that the scholarship seeks to espouse. Most notably, it has been reaffirmed that perseverance and endurance are psychological traits more than physical ones. This last week it was hard not to wallow in my own misery, worrying that the sinusitis would cause everything to be for naught; it becomes easier to accept failure than to believe in a future success. Fittingly, I am looking for a student who refuses to accept their setbacks as endpoints and who are resolute, even stubborn, in their belief in success. So as I pop my antibiotics this week and try to knock the gunk out of my head, I will take my inspiration from those students who I have seen stay unwaveringly positive despite their immediate circumstances.