Today was my 8K technical race. It was a brutal race, and I was a complete gong show.
The pre-race stuff was a lot of fun. The kids races were hilarious, and I had a blast hanging out with Megan and soaking up the amazing energy. She was doing the 16K "enduro" race while I was doing the 8K "sport" race. After she went off to do her start I talked with a few really nice people.
I seeded myself at the very back of the pack as I knew part of this race was having limited passing and I am very slow. It started out alright with a flat section, then some fairly gentle hills. I ran as much as I could, but I struggled right from the start. It was quite dusty, and in hindsight I think that was affecting me right from the beginning. I was already walking more than I wanted, but was hopeful that once I got settled into a stride I would be alright.
About a kilometre and a half in I hit the first big snag. We had to cross a very muddy creek. Watching the people ahead of me try to jump as much as possible and struggle I decided to just run through instead of trying to avoid the mud. This was a tactical error: the creek was about a foot deeper than I expected and I lost my balance in the mud that was on the bottom. I fell forward into the creek soaking my pants with muddy water (as well as my arms and other stuff, but the pants were the bigger problem).
As I came out of the creek I found my pants much heavier than they had been. They were a thicker material and seemed to hold the water. Megan caught up to me (she was on her second lap) and advised me to take my time through the trees as it was very technical and lots of tripping hazards. She was not kidding! It was a ROUGH trail with parts where I was sure I must have gone off course because they were so narrow/steep/rough. I tried to keep running but found myself walking almost all of this section.
Shortly after the 2K mark the next incident happened. My pants were stretching because of the wetness and heaviness. They were now dragging, and caught on a root sticking up out of the ground. I stumbled, and the pants tore. I realized that they were quite a hazard now, so rolled them up. Of course they didn't want to stay up, so from then on I had to keep stopping to fix them.
I kept plugging along, walking a lot more than I wanted but running a bit. Around the 3K mark I lot focus just long enough to trip on a root and fall. At this point I was pretty damn discouraged, and sat there for a minute just to curse the race. I wanted nothing more than to give up, and I knew that at the 5.5K mark I would pass the start line again. I seriously considered stopping there, but I hate not finishing things and was determined to push through. So I started pushing - running more (including the hills), fighting the part of me that wanted to just stop
Somewhere in there I noticed that I was having a lot of trouble breathing. I just couldn't catch my breath, even when walking. But it wasn't until about 3.5K that it got really bad. I was having a full out asthma attack, wheezing and all. I didn't have my inhaler as it is empty. I was out in the trees, alone, and scared because I couldn't breathe properly. That started me panicking and crying, which made breathing even harder. A couple of enduro runners passed me and I told them what was happening. She went to tell the course Marshalls. By the time they got to me the worst has past and the attack was subsiding. I was no longer wheezing, but still felt very fragile. I walked the rest of the way back to the field where the 5.5K point passed through the start area and told them there that I would not be finishing.
I was so disappointed in myself, and crying awfully, which brought the wheezing back briefly. I got it under control and left, not wanting to be around all the runners celebrating their completion
It was not what I was planning and definitely not pleasant. But that is part of taking on challenges. Sometimes you don't succeed. Sometimes you have to pick yourself up and look ahead to the next challenge. But you can't give up.
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