BONK!

I've never bonked before. Sure I've hit the proverbial wall (some would say bonking and hitting the wall are one and the same), but I've always managed to get through it. On May 31st that all changed.

For those of you who may not know, bonking is a term that broadly describes any number of bad things that runners (among other folks) can experience. Often the bonk is related to one's nutrition, hydration, electrolyte balance, muscle fatigue and on and on. More on this subject, check out wikipedia's entry for bonking.

So I bonked. And there was no doubt about it. It was during my fifth marathon; this one a local affair, first time being held. It was nice, but really small. Although I like the more intimate events this one was downright lonely - at least for those going beyond the half marathon distance.

The first 13.1 miles went by quite nicely. Sure it was hot and humid; yes I was sweating a lot. I drank a bit, but in retrospect certainly not anywhere near what I should've. See I train without fluids or food. Part of it is practical - I don't like to carry packs and of course the teeny-tiny pocket stitched in the running shorts could maybe hold starburst at best. The other part is my stomach. I'm not going to further bore you, but I've not conquered the eating/drinking/running thing yet. One bite of the wrong food during a run and I'm done. It's like my kryptonite. For these reasons, I almost never eat or drink when I train. Clearly, this was the wrong strategy for this race.

After the first half, which I finished in 2hrs 7mins, I felt quite good. Looking back, I know I could've finished in 1hr 50+ minutes on the half if that was my end goal. But it was not and so I was pacing myself the best I knew how. Around mile 11 I picked up 2 first timers and ran with them til about mile 19. I usually prefer to run alone, but today I was enjoying the company. Conversation was easy and light.

Probably around mile 14 or so was when I first understood how much I was sweating. My shorts - they of the wicking variety - where drenched. So much so that drops were coming off. Head was drenched; shirt too. Normally this isn't that big of an issue. But the fundamental problem here is that I didn't replace anything. By mile 14 I had consumed maybe 2 cups of water, a sip of gatorade and about half a granola bar. Being the idiot that I can sometimes be, I continued in this vein til about mile 19 (minimal drinking and no food). It was then - as I crossed the bridge over the Susquehanna river - that my newly acquired running buddies began to pull away. Or, more accurately, that I began to fall behind. It wasn't my legs - they felt fairly fresh. But I just hit the wall with my energy level. And then the wall fell on top of me. And then I think some elephants or other similarly large animals did the happy dance on top of the wall, with me under it. Suffice it to say, that I never got through it, leaving the final 7 miles the longest of my lackluster running career.

I began searching out water and food as best I could; aid stations had fluid and some sickeningly sweet gatorade which my stomach can't handle. I had some gummi bears. Some kind gentleman seemed to be pacing myself and a few others in his Camry and would stop from time to time. From him I procured a couple bottles of water and a banana. Still nothing raised my energy level. I had been reduced to plodding. Looking back, I think it was probably too late.

And then the cramps happened. Not the kind where you run through it, try to shrug it off. Nope, these were the kind that will lock up the legs in a second and put you on the ground because your muscles refuse to work. They were in my calves specifically - both of them. The cramping forced me to reduce my stride length to a shuffle; attempting a longer stride would instantly bring pain, seizure of my calves and several near falls. I ran with these for probably the last 5 miles. Quite frankly, it sucked.

I crossed the finish line around 4hrs 50mins. Most everybody was packing up; I looked at the results later and found there were only 2 or 3 people behind me. I laid down, grateful to be off my feet. My calf muscles were quivery and spazzing - something they continued to do for 3 hours after I finished. I saw my running buddies from earlier - the first timers. They made it, I'm happy to say.

It seems clear to me, after doing some research and posting to an ultra list group, that I really screwed up my nutrition. Not enough fluids, not enough salt/electrolytes. Not enough calories. I basically allowed myself to get too depleted; and then I couldn't bring it back.

Although this event wasn't all that fun, I still have an affinity for the marathon. I'm glad I still covered the miles that day, difficult as it was; and I plan to do more (thinking Steamtown this fall). I don't really have some grand, life-altering piece of insight to share. But I did learn a lot about what I can and can't do. This event may have gotten the best of me, but I'll be back for more.

See you on the pavement.