Friday night at 8:00, Duke and I hauled the kids up to a cheap hotel (not really, it was actually expensive but it sure looked cheap. Thank you Bay Area prices) in Pacifica so that he could start a 100k training run. The plan was to start there and basically run home. Of course, being the good ultra runner widow that I am, I said I would provide support in the form of a mobile aid station. He would start at 6:00, I would drive to his 15 mile mark later in the morning and then jump ahead of him every 5-10 miles. Of course, an all day event like this takes some planning.
All week long, Duke would hand me new print outs of maps or send me spreadsheets of times and places to meet him. I realized that he had no list of things that he would need so I decided that as "crew captain" I had better get one started. I put together a list of food, first aid, and clothing that he would need and shared it with him on Google Docs so that he could add to it. I went to the grocery store 2 days before to obtain the necessary items, boiled eggs the day before, and sat with him the night before going over the maps.
Things went quite smoothly Friday night (except for my cranky attitude. Apparently I get stressed worrying about the details.) We got to bed at the hotel around 10:00 which is just perfect considering the fact that one doesn't usually sleep very well in a foreign bed. And that theory proved itself to be true when I spent the night waking up from dreams where I had already gotten up and helped Duke get ready. I think I helped him get ready twice in my sleep without ever waking up! No one can say that I don't care about his success in these endeavors. Apparently I do it in my sleep!
Eventually, Duke got up for real and got himself ready to go. Notice I said he got himself ready. I didn't need to do anything but get out the food for him. So much for worrying in my sleep! He left at exactly the time we had set. I got the kids up an hour and a half later, took them to breakfast, and headed out of town AFTER stewing over the map to figure out where I was supposed to meet Duke. Apparently we hadn't gone over the first meeting point as thoroughly as we had the other spots.
I finally called him and luckily his phone was on and he had cell coverage. Apparently he got lost for about 15 minutes and then later got stopped by the water company and was given a warning citation for trespassing. (That's his story to tell!) We finally connected at the designated point and he was only 15 minutes behind schedule. He looked just fine and acted just fine but my wifely instincts (in hindsight) didn't feel fine.
Our next stop was an hour later so the kids and I ran into Half Moon Bay to get fuel for the car and fuel for Mom, i.e. Starbucks. With coffee in hand we drove back up to Skyline and sat in the parking lot of the Mountain House restaurant for the next 30 minutes. By this time what was supposed to be an hour between the last aid station (15 mile mark) this one (21 mile mark) had turned into almost an hour and a half.
When Duke arrived the first thing he did was lie down on the ground...at 21 miles. Ok, well, it was a long hill up to this spot so I guess that's warranted. He's a tough guy, former Marine, he knows what he's doing. Load him up, fill him up with food and ship him out! We'll meet him in 10 miles, 2-3 hours, at Alice's Restaurant. An hour later I get a text:
"So I think this is not my day".
Me: "oh no, why?"
Duke: "No energy, been walking the last 3 miles"
Me: "So what do you want to do?"
Duke "Just come get me. I'm on the highway now."
Me: "Are you sure?"
"Headed out now"
Duke: "Yes, I think I need to recover more before Rio Del Lago"
At this point a couple of things were going through my head. Any good crew captain would assess the situation and see if there was anyway the the runner could keep going. Obviously he wasn't hurt and he could still walk therefore in most race situations he just needed to keep going. A short rest, some more food and then send him on his way. But I must admit that at the bottom of my thoughts, the first thing to go through my head was, "yay! now we get to spend the day together!" So not only does Duke feel like a loser for quitting but I feel guilty for being happy that he quit. Great combination!
The kids and I found him on the side of the road and we drove back to Alice's Restaurant and had lunch. All through lunch I kept asking him if he wanted to start running again. (All the while hoping that he didn't.) He said he was done. He felt it was better to rest this weekend as he has another 50k next weekend and the Rio Del Lago 100 miler in November. (Yay!!) He felt that it was a smart judgement call. I have to admit that he actually was being mature about this run. I mean, he even packed toilet paper!!!
By the time we got home, Duke was still tired. My wifely instincts had been correct. This was just not his day. Something wasn't right about the run even though it was planned quite well. I think that if my energy had been more in line with his finishing the run, he might have been able to do it. Maybe. It's hard to know. All I know is that I got to spend the rest of my day with him and that was heaven! So honey, sorry...I'm not sorry that you didn't finish! I think we were both winners yesterday!
