Fox-Runner

To say my 2019 Georgia Death Race experience did not go the way I expected would be an understatement.  I did not finish (known as DNF) the Georgia Death Race. I was medically pulled at the last aid station, 10 miles from the finish with over 5 and a half hours left on the clock, for (what they thought was) excessive dehydration.  Since then, I have come to realize that I was not suffering from dehydration, but was in fact rhabdomyolysis. Rhabdomyolysis, aka rhabdo, is a serious rapid destruction of muscle resulting in the leakage of muscle proteins and enzymes into the bloodstream which can lead to serious complications such as kidney failure. More info about rhabdo.

Burn Out: Before the Georgia Death Race

Going into the 2019 Georgia Death Race (GDR), I had two simple, modist goals:

1. Finish the race.
2. Be able to say I had a good time.  

In the months leading up to the GDR, I felt like I was beginning to burn out of racing ultras.  I first noticed it back in November during the Franklin Mountains 50K. When I entered the last 10 miles or so, my motivation was gone.  I had no desire to push myself hard to the finish. At the time, I thought it was because I was tired from a lack of sleep and the pain of many cactus needles in my foot.  But then I had similar feelings during the Brazos Bend 100. It was a wet, muddy, and difficult race. During any ultra run, I don’t think there is anyone who can say they did not have the thought, “Why the hell am I doing this?”  I would be lying if I said that question did not cross my mind in every run. The difference at Brazos was that I asked myself that question earlier in the race than normally. About a month later, at the Bandera 100K I not only asked myself that question very early on in the race, but I also realized I just was not happy to be out on the trails.  I never wrote a race report about the 2019 Bandera 100K because after the race was over, I could not find anything really positive to say. It was during that run, I decided to take an extended break (for me) from running ultras. Bandera made three races in a row that not only was I disappointed with my results, but also unhappy during the race. For two of them, I seriously questioned whether I would run the race again a year later.

I withdrew my entry from the Jackalope Jam 72hr race and decided to not run ultra races or participate in endurance events before GDR.  I also did a major shift in my training. I focused on strength training. While I felt like I had a really solid training plan, an unexpected life event happened.  I was offered a new exciting job opportunity at a fast growing local startup in an industry that I had never worked in before. Between working on making sure I was leaving my old job and team in the best possible place, preparing for my new job, and ramping up in my new position, my running training took a back seat.  I was not training to the plan I had made. My original plan had me running road miles during the week, with one long run on the weekend and a hard multi-mile/multi-hour training session (heavy ruck, sandbag carries, stairs, hills, tire-drag, and/or some combo of them). What ended up happening was that my weekends were spent running long runs to “make up the miles” I missed during the week.  

As for my strength training, that was going well.  When I started focusing on the strength training, I also started taking a creatine monohydrate supplement.  I did a bunch of research and was able to find a recommended vegetarian version that I liked. Over the next weeks and months, my lifts got heavier, as did I.  I gained about 10 pounds, from what I could tell the weight gain was mainly muscle and water.

Going into the Georgia Death Race, I was not as prepared as I had wanted to be.  I know you can never fully prepare for a race in a completely different geography, climate, and terrain.  I was not at the level I wanted to be, but I was okay with that. I made the conscience decision to put my career and work before my training.    Because of that, I did not give myself any hard goals for the GDR. Part of me really wanted to finish under 20 hours, but I tried really hard not to say that out loud, write it down, or internally commit to it.  I looked back at the last 6 months and knew, in the end, I just needed to finish this race and be able to say at the end, I am happy I ran that race.

A 16 Hour Drive : “Such a long way to go to die”

My original plan for the race broke down like this:

• Drive out Thursday and stay in a hotel along the way
• Get into Georgia Friday for the pre-race check-in, gear check, and meeting
• Camp out at the park Friday night
• Run the race with no supporting crew
• Camp out after the race
• Drive back Sunday and stay in a hotel along the way
• Get home on Monday

As the race was getting closer, I started to see posts from friends that were also in the race.  I connected with Alberto, a running/endurance friend from Houston, and we decided to share a hotel Friday and Saturday night near the race instead of camping.  I was grateful for connecting with Alberto since he had completed the GDR the previous year and had many helpful tips/advice for staying and getting around the area.

The weekend before the race, I had prepared all my gear, made my drop bags, loaded up my hydration back, and packed all the gear and clothes.  It was maybe the first time I was prepared for a race so far ahead of time. I was excited and nervous about the race.

Thursday morning I loaded up the car and did a quick social media post, only to have RunBumTours, the people behind GDR, comment on the post, “Such a long way to go to die.”  The drive to Georgia was easy and uneventful. The weather was super nice. I met up with Alberto. We grabbed a coffee at a local spot, had a chance to catch up, and talk about our plans and goals for the race.  Before we knew it, it was time to get to the pre-race check-in. The check-in went really smooth. I met up with Taylor, my Infinitus 250 race sister. We chatted for a bit. She looked ready to kill the GDR.

During the check-in, I had forgotten that I ordered an extra GDR shirt.  It was the first time, in a long time, that I purchased a race shirt. I actually thought to myself with a smile, “Crap, now I really have to finish this race.”

Alberto and I found some seats before the race meeting.  I had brought my dinner to the meeting, which AJ kindly made for me before I left.  I think I was the only person that brought food to the meeting. I didn’t care, I was enjoying my quinoa, bulgar, beans, cheese, and avocado salad with my own little bottle of local Austin made sriracha.  Looking around, I felt like I recognized a bunch of runners from previous races. It was at this point I realized, I am not sure if I have meet/run with a lot of these people before or if we all just look alike.

After the race meeting, Alberto and I left my car at the finish point and took his car back to the hotel.  We finished some minor prep for the morning and went to sleep.

The next morning we were up early.  Taylor sent me a text at around 3am asking where we checked in in the morning and got our railroad spike.  This, of course, freaked me out and made me double check all the info. Turns out we both had all the right information, she just got there too early.

Alberto and I made it to check in a little over an hour before the race started.  We both checked in, got our dirty railroad spikes, took a few pictures, and were ready to race.

GDR: Studying My Pee Like a Fortune-Teller Studies Tea Leaves
– OR –
This Section Talks About Pee A Lot

Before the race, I made the decision to not wear my GPS watch or study the trails too much.  I knew that the first 38 miles would be a lot of climbs and descents, followed by some easier fire roads, then ending with more technical running and climb up 900-stairs.  

The race started at 5am.  I took off at a good pace.  My goal was to cover some ground and not get stuck behind the slower runners.  At the same time, I did not want to over-do it. I felt really good and after about 2 miles in, I slowed my pace.  I power hiked the climbs, ran down the descents. If I started to slow down and a runner or pack of runners wanted to get by, I felt no pressure to keep their pace.  I moved over, let them pass and focused on myself and my race.

I kept an eye on my watch, making sure I was eating calories about every 45 to 60 minutes.  I hit the first aid station. My water bladder was about half full, so I decided to push on to the next aid station which was about 5 miles away.  It was the only aid station I did not stop at to refill my bladder.

As the race progressed, I needed to pee.  It was the first time I needed to pee since the race began.  I hopped off the trail. Since this was the first pee of the race, I was paying very close attention to it in order to get a sense of my hydration and nutrition levels.  

There were a couple of things I noticed that I did not like.  It was a bright yellow color and the consistency was a little thick.  My first thought was that I need to increase the amount of water I was drinking, which is exactly what I did.  With aid stations never being that far in-between, I knew I was not in any real danger of running out of water.  By the next time I peed, my urine was still a little yellow, but back to what I would expect and am used to at an ultra.  I continued to drink and eat regularly.

As I mentioned earlier, the first 38 miles of the GDR is all climbing and descending.  At about 20 miles in, I was really beginning to feel the affects on my quads and calves.  They were incredibly sore and it was taking a lot of effort to get them moving. At times, it felt like they could cramp up at any moment.  I slowed down a bit, reminding myself that this was the challenge I wanted and my goal was to finish and enjoy myself.

By the time I hit the Skeenah Gap Aid Station, about 21 miles in, I was feeling ragged and slow.  I grabbed some oranges and used my collapsible bottle to drink a mixture of Gatorade and water. I refilled my bladder with water and my bottle with Gatorade and water and went on my way.  The stop at the aid station took a little longer than I would have liked, but that was due to how busy it was. When I got back on the trail, I could really feel the soreness in my muscles and was beginning to feel a little warm.

The next aid station, Point Bravo at mile 28ish, had our first drop bags.  I was pretty thankful for my drop bag since I was almost out of nutrition (as planned).  I did a quick stop to reload my pack, refill my bladder, wipe down with a baby wipe, drink and reload my bottle with Gatorade and water.  I decided to take one ibuprofen (half a dose) to help with the soreness and was on my way.

For the next several miles, I power hiked the climbs, shuffled the flat sections, and ran/shuffled on the downhills.  While my legs were incredibly sore, I felt I had worked through the worst of it. Now that the day had warmed up, I was making sure I was drinking regularly and examining my urine each time I peed.  Overall, everything looked good. During this section, I tripped and fell once. As soon as I did, my calves and quads seized up. I took a moment to rub them out a little, got back on my feet, and moved slowly on my way.  Within a quarter mile or less, my legs loosened up and I was back on my pace.

The next big stop was the Winding Stair Aid Station, the second station they allowed crew access.  Like the previous crew access aid station, this was a combination party, aid station, pit stop, and cook-out.  I grabbed some bananas, refilled my bladder, drank and loaded my bottle up with the combo Gatorade and water, and was on my way.  I left the aid station with another runner who was from Tennessee. We spent some time chatting about our experience so far, upcoming races, etc.  After a bit, I pulled over to pee. The urine was a good color. Overall, I would say that I was feeling great. Mentally, I was focused on finishing.  Physically, my hydration levels looked good and my fatigue and soreness was minimal.

I had about 35 miles to go and started doing some quick calculations on my pace.  I became concerned about my pace and ability to finish in time. I got very nervous that I would not finish in time.  Since I was feeling good, I upped my pace. It did not feel too intense, but it did feel like I was pushing myself. If I am being honest with myself, it felt good to go that pace.  After a couple of miles, I stopped to pee and noticed the first signs something was wrong. My pee was clear, but had a brownish tint to it.

I took a breath and decided on my plan of action.  First, slow my pace down. Second, drink a lot more water.  Lastly, recalculate my time and how fast I would need to get to the next aid station.  I redid the calculations and realized my initial calculations were wrong. My calculations had me trying to finish in under 20 hours, which part of me wanted, not the 24 hour time limit.  “Cool,” I thought, “I don’t need to push this hard. Focus on moving and drinking.”

Not too long after this, I had to pee again.  I examined the color. It was back to a clear yellow.  I thought, “Awesome, I have this under control. Be smart, keep this pace.  You have plenty of time. Keep drinking. The next aid station is not too far away.  You can refill everything there. And, don’t forget to eat.”

I peed at least one more time before the Jake Bull aid station.  Like the previous time, my urine was a clearish yellow color. When I got into Jake Bull (about 53ish miles in) sometime after 19:00 (7pm), they had a high volunteer to runner ratio.  They were taking great care of everyone that came in. This was the second aid station to have drop bags. They retrieved my drop bag, refilled my bladder, made me a bottle of the Gatorade and water mix, while I ate one of my chia squeezes.  I restocked all my supplies and was on my way within a couple of minutes. The volunteers told every runner to make sure we had our headlamps ready and enough water since the next aid station is about 12 miles away.

The next section took us on a paved road and was fairly easy.  I had noticed for the last couple of hours my right eye was extra dry and a little blurry, but unlike previous races where I lost my vision, it was not getting worse and my left eye was fine.  Since it was going to get dark soon, I decided to stop and take out my contacts. I figured the side of the road with some light was going to be way easier than in the woods in the dark.

I felt like I was keeping a good pace, not too fast, not too slow.  Eventually we were back on trails and fire roads climbing up to the next aid station. From what I can tell it was about 1,400-1,500 feet of elevation gain on the fire roads.  I felt great. It did not feel like I was pushing myself, yet I was passing other runners and pacers. I was having a hard time drinking the Gatorade mix I had, so I kept drinking my water.

As I got closer to the final aid station, I calculated that I would have about 5 and a half hours to finish.  Based on my knowledge of the distance left, I had about 10-11 miles to go. In other words, I would only have to do less than a 30 minute mile pace and make it under the cut-off. I felt thrilled about how I was feeling and how much time I had left.

As I approached the last aid station, I made one of the smartest decisions I made all race.  I decided to pull over and pee before I got into the aid station. This way, I could get a sense of my hydration level and determine if there was anything I needed to pick up before the final push.  When I started to pee, I immediately noticed something scary. My urine was a reddish-brown color. Honestly, in the dark, it looked like I was peeing blood. It was not a little bit either. I was peeing a lot and it all looked like blood.  My heart sank. So many different thoughts went through my head. “What the hell happened? Other than the first time I peed and the one time between aid stations, it all looked good.” I pretty much knew this was the end of my race.

I took a deep breath.  “Panic people die. Calm people live.”  I was close to the next aid station. I will go there and ask for the medic – try to figure out what is happening and what’s next.  

As I walk into the aid station, they scan me.  

The Nimblewill Aid Station – My Final Stop

The familiar sights and sounds of an ultra aid station start to grow huge.

“Only 10 miles to go,”  the chorus starts. “Fuck that” I thought as I enter.

“What do you need?”  “What can we get you?”  “Do you need something to eat?”  “You’re almost there.” “How can I help?”

“I need to see medic,” I said.

“What’s wrong?  We can help,” a volunteer states.

“No, I need to see the medic.”

Volunteer looks me over and asks again, “What’s wrong?”

“I am peeing blood.”

“Oh … This way.”  A volunteer jogs ahead and says something to a woman, who is clearly keeping track of 4 to 5 different people and situations, while having a watchful eye on everything going on.

“Here is the medic.”

The medic looks me over, “Did you fall?  What’s the matter?”

“I just peed a bunch of blood.”

“That is not good.  You cannot continue.  You are done in the race.”  Turning to the volunteer with the scanner, “Scan his bib.”

“I figured as much.  This sucks”

“You are excessively dehydrated.  How do you feel?” She tells a volunteer, “Get him some water.”

“Is this all you have?”  a volunteer ask me holding up my collapsible bottle.

“No, there is a bladder in the pack.”

“Actually, get him some Tailwind.”  A beat of silence passes. “No wait, that has caffeine in it.”

“Water is fine,” I reply.

“Hold on,” she said half to me, half to herself, “I have something better than water.”  She disappears for a moment. Comes back and hands me some berry-flavored sports drink. “Drink this,” she tells me.

A volunteer looks at me, “You look pretty fresh.  How do you feel?”

“I feel fine, except for the peeing blood thing,” I reply as the medic returns.

“Take his bib,” the medic says to the volunteers.  

The medic turns her attention to me and in a very authoritarian voice, “You cannot continue.  Your body telling you to stop. How long have you been peeing blood?”

“I just peed blood … it was like 2 minutes before walking into the aid station.”  “Man, this sucks,” I grumble to myself.

“You are excessively dehydrated.  You cannot continue!” she says “We need someone to take him to the finish line.”

“I know,” I say to her.  I am clearly annoyed – annoyed at the situation, annoyed at my DNF, annoyed at the realization that she thinks that I am not going to listen to her, annoyed that I don’t know what is happening with my body.  “Look, I peed blood, then walked right into the aid station and asked for you. I know I am done with the race. I am going to listen to you, I am not going to fight you on this.”

Another volunteer starts fumblingly unpinning the bib from my shorts, “I’m not doing anything.  I’m just trying to take your bib off.”

I smile at her.  “I know. Don’t worry about it.”  

The volunteer hands the medic my bib, which she puts into a pouch or pocket.

I think she could tell I was aggravated, “I appreciate that you told us and that you are listening.”  She points to a volunteer holding my pack, “He’ll take you to the finish line. Get some medical help when you get there.”

I say to the medic, with all sincerity, “Thank you,” as she disappears back into dealing with the other 4-5 situations happening at the time.  I try to thank as many of the volunteers as I can as we leave.

We get to the volunteer’s truck.  “Damn,” I think, “I’ve gotta climb into that thing.”

I get in the truck and we chat on the way to the finish line.  The guy was super nice, unfortunately I don’t remember much of the conversation.  My mind was focused on what would happen when I got back. Do I need to go to the ER?  What about Alberto? If he is still on the trail, how do I contact him?

We got to the finish line and had no idea where I should be dropped off.  He jumped out and decided to ask Sean, the race director. I collected my things in the truck and began to climb out.  He came back and said, there is no medical tent and we should talk to Sean.

We walked up to Sean who was congratulating racers crossing the finish line.  “What’s up?” he asked.

“I was pulled for excessive dehydration.”

“Up to you what you want to do.  You look great, but then again I don’t know you.  You could look a 100x more awesome on a normal day,” he said with a smile.  “Were you peeing blood?”

“Yep, I peed blood. … Well, I am out of the race and don’t have my bib, so can’t really go on,” I responded with a smile.  “Is there a medic or medical tent around here?”

“No, but there is food, drinks, and volunteers in the building over there.”

“Okay, I’ll head there.  I need to find my friend.  Not sure if he is still out on the course or not.”  I thanked Sean and the volunteer who drove me down.

“Will you be okay getting to the building?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.  Thanks for everything.” I responded and started walking to the building.

All the Pain, None of the Glory
– OR –
“Peed Blood.  Want to chat?”

When I walked into the building, I saw Alberto wrapped up in a blanket.  I was pretty sure he had DNFed. I walked over and took a seat next to him.

“What happened?  I just saw that you did not finish on the tracker.”  he asked.

“I was pulled for excessive dehydration.  I was peeing blood. Do you know if there is a first aid or medic around?”

A volunteer overheard us, “What do you need?”

“I need to talk to a medic and figure out what to do now”

“We don’t have a medic station here, but I am a nurse.  How can I help?” she replied.

“I was pulled for dehydration.  I was peeing blood. Not sure what I should do now.”

“I am a nurse and my husband is an ultra runner.  Here is what I suggest. You stay here and drink a lot of fluids.  You seem alert and responsive, so I don’t think you need to go to the ER.  Stay here, drink lots of fluids and we’ll see how you are doing in a little bit.  What can I get you? What sounds good to drink?”

“Water would be great.”

“Alberto, what happened?”

“I DNFed as well.”  It was his leg, the injuries he told me about the day before really started to flare up.  He did not want to cause any permanent damage and made the smart call to drop.

She goes off to get a cup of water as I text my wife AJ.

Me: “DNF – med dropped for severe dehydration”

Me: “In the shelter now working on rehydrating”

AJ: “I’m sorry, that sucks.  Are you feeling better?”

Me: “Just happened like 10 minutes ago.”

Me: “In the shelter now working on rehydrating”

AJ: “I’m sorry, that sucks.  Are you feeling better?”

Me: “Just happened like 10 minutes ago.”

… Some more back and forth …

I remember that I have chocolate milk in my cooler in the car.  I ask Alberto, “I have some Gatorades and chocolate milk in the cooler in my car. Do you mind getting them for me?”

AJ: “What are you symptoms?”

Me: “Peed blood”

Me: “Want to chat?”

AJ: “Yes”

I stayed in the building, drinking my chocolate milk and water for the next hour or so. As I sat there, I was concerned that maybe I had rhabdo.  I did not experience any of the other symptoms of dehydration, but I also did not know a lot about the condition or whta to look for. Instead of focusing on it too much, I just focused on rehydrating.  No matter what was the cause of my current condition, I knew I had to keep rehydrating.

About an hour later, after drinking a half gallon of chocolate milk and a ton of water, I had to pee.  I was honestly a little nervous about what I would see. Thankfully, my pee was a clear, cloudy color with a brown tint.  

I told the nurse and she responded, “That is good.  That is a pretty quick recovery. You should probably stay here a little longer just in case.”

I told Alberto that we were staying a little longer.  He was cold, getting pretty tired, and ready to leave.  I just kept drinking water and about 30 minutes later, I had to pee again.  This time it was almost completely clear.

I let the nurse know that my pee was clear and that we were heading out.  I thanked her again for the help. I asked Alberto if he would be cool driving. He agreed and went to get the car while I hit the toilet again. I gathered up my gear, drop bags, etc. and loaded up the car.  It was an hour drive to start line where Alberto’s car was. Given all the water I was drinking, I had to ask to pull over on the way so I could pee again.  It also started to rain.

We got to his car.  He jumped out and we had about a 15 minute drive to our motel.  I was really beginning to crash and the drive felt so long. We made it to the hotel safely and the skies opened up and started to downpour.  I grabbed what I needed from the car and went in.

We took turns cleaning up and I could really feel the soreness set in.  I drank a bunch more and refilled water bottle. I had drank so much, I spent all night waking up every 30 minutes to pee.  It would not have been so bad if I was not so sore. My legs barely worked. I would pivot my lower body out of the bed and use my arms to push myself onto my feet.  Getting back in bed, was basically me falling, landing my upper body on the mattress and then pivoting my legs into the bed.

By the morning, I was feeling much better, but still sore beyond belief. Alberto and I packed up, got breakfast at a local place and went on our ways.  I spent the next 8 hours driving in the car. I stopped in Mississippi for the night and finished the rest of the 16 hour drive in the morning.

Rhabdomyolysis Confirmed

For the days following the race, AJ and I were researching rhabdo and the signs to look for.  On Tuesday, I made an appointment to see my doctor. Unfortunately, the only time that worked for me was Friday afternoon.  By Thursday, I had done enough research on rhabdo that I was concerned that I had experienced it and was concerned about the health of my kidneys.

I sent my doctor a note with more details and asked for tests to check my kidney health.  After my appointment on Friday, I had blood and urine tests done. Friday night, the tests confirmed that I suffered muscle damage and had experienced rhabdo.  My CK levels were still high, but not dangerous. He told me to keep drinking lots of water and that all my levels should return to normal.

Now What?

It has been a week since the Georgia Death Race and I have been thinking a lot about the race and the results.  As I mentioned, my goals for the race was to finish and to be able to say I had a good time. Well, I did not finish.

In retrospect, I realize that for me there is always an underlying goal that I never talk about.  I always want to leave a race on my feet, so to speak. Despite what happened to me, I made smart decisions and was able to leave the race on my feet.  I am proud of that. It gives me the confidence and trust in the decisions that I make during a race.

Did I have a good time?  I am not sure. Really examining that goal, was the goal to have a good time or was it to have a good race?  In other words, examining this goal and what it meant to me I realized that I wanted to/needed to walk away from the race saying that I was happy I ran it. Believe or not, I am. I am happy I ran the Georgia Death Race. Do I want to run it again? Yes, I do.

What’s next for me?  

I am still reviewing and examining everything that happened before, during, and after the race.  One thing I would have done differently was to have seen my doctor right after I got home. I was ignorant to what happened to my body and the seriousness of it.  I do not think I needed to go to the ER or urgent care the night of the race, but definitely should have seen my doctor earlier.

I have more ultras scheduled for this year, so once I am healed up my focus will be on training for them.  I will be training with more difficult runs, not just longer runs.

Lastly, while I will continue my strength training, I am going to stop with the creatine supplement for a while.  While all the research seems to indicate that it is a safe supplement, there are definitely voices out there that link creatine use to rhabdo.  Given that it is not something that is necessary for me to add to my diet (unlike protein), there is no reason to put myself at risk if that link does exist.  If I decide to use it again, I will definitely stop using it weeks before an ultra or endurance event.

For now, my focus is on recovery and meditation.  I will slowly start training again over next couple of weeks.  I have no doubt I will be out running ultras again. As for the 2020 Georgia Death Race, I am planning on putting my name in the lottery.

A Quick Note & Thank You

While I was frustrated at the situation when I was pulled from the race, I don’t want that to read as the medic and volunteers doing a bad job.  Not only did they do a great job, but they did exactly what they were supposed to do in that scenario. For example, a medic at the last aid station of an ultra race has to complete several tasks in a very short amount of time. First, assess the injury and determine if the runner should continue. Ultra runners, especially at the last aid station, will fight about being told they can’t continue. In fact, I have met runners that have run away from the medic so they don’t get pulled.

Next if the medic decides to pull a racer, she needs to get them out of the race as quickly as possible.  At the GDR, this means scanning and removing the racers bib. Next, if the situation is serious, they need to get the runner out of the aid station to the main area where there is easier access to roads, help, etc.

With all this in mind, we can see what a great job the team did.  Within minutes, the medic assessed the situation, her and the volunteers had my bib scanned and removed, provided me a drink and a ride to the finish line. I want to extend my thanks to all the volunteers and medics that helped me during the GDR.