Determination and Dehydration

This past winter I wrote an article for the Chi site about training in cold weather. As someone who makes their living as a professional ski coach, temperatures that fall under 32 degrees are my specialty. That does not mean that I don’t teach, train, or compete when the weather is hot though. Contrary to popular belief, Alaskans enjoy a comfortable amount of heat during the summer months. This past Fourth of July in Seward, Alaska was no exception.

To celebrate the holiday, I competed in the 82nd running of the Mount Marathon, the most coveted of Alaska’s mountain running races. Temperatures hit a muggy 85 degrees in the trees and I remember standing on the start line with a wicked dry mouth. I underestimated the conditions and paid the price!

After the start gun went off, I went from a strong second place to leading the race to a struggle to keep my legs underneath me in a battle for the last podium position, then directly to the emergency room, conveniently located on the side of the course at the base of the mountain…

Before I tell you how this happened, let me describe the sport of mountain running and paint a picture of the race itself: I do believe that “mountain running” is somewhat of a misnomer because in lieu of running, most racing for this sport consists of power hiking slopes that are 40, 50, and 60 degrees. Participation in Mount Marathon is won through a complicated lottery system, and racers have been known to pay up to $1200 in a pre-race auction the night before the race for a chance to torture their bodies the next day. Tens of thousands of spectators (a large part of the Alaskan population!) flood the streets of Seward to watch the race and celebrate the Independence holiday.

The race itself consists of ½ mile of pavement to the base of Mount Marathon, then a grueling 3,022 foot climb to the top before racers make a 180 degree turn and race down the mountain through loose shale and a system of waterfalls to the finish line on Main Street. Racers reemerge from the mountain often bloody, covered in mud and dust, and coated from head to toe in sweat.

I was having the race of my life until halfway down the mountain when I realized I was in trouble. My legs felt like jelly, I became disoriented, and there was a lag time between what I was asking my body to do and the movements my body would make. The soles of my feet felt like I was walking on red-hot-coals and my quadriceps felt like old growth tree stumps.

After stumbling down “the gut” of the mountain and the waterfall system, (spectators later told me that I fell three times, but I have no recollection) I entered the base of the chute where thousands of spectators, including my parents, were waiting. The last thing I remember was repeating, “I just want to finish, I just want to finish,” laboring to put one foot in front of the other. The next thing I knew, I was in the ER surrounded by people— my race was over.

At the hospital I received intravenous fluids while the doctors and nurses monitored my vital signs and waited for my body to come out of heat exhaustion and shock. I spent the next seven hours getting blood tests and giving urine samples. I left the building twice on two brief occasions. The first (against the medical team’s wishes) was to cross the finish line of the race (so I would be eligible for next year!), and the second to watch the start and finish of the men’s race from my wheelchair street-side, directly outside the hospital. I was overjoyed to see my friend, Brent Knight, run past me near the end of the race with almost a two-minute lead. I thought he had won the race only to learn later that he collapsed 300 meters from the finish line.

As it turns out, both Brent and I were diagnosed with Exertional Rhabdomyolysis, a condition that is characterized by extreme damage to the skeletal muscle cells and at times, acute renal (kidney) failure. Imagine extreme muscle soreness and limited range of motion for weeks on end. In addition to pain in my quadriceps, I had a swollen, black big toe and an extremely large blood blister on the bottom of my left heel. This was of concern to me, seeing that I only had one week before needing to fit into my peep-toe bridal shoes!

After returning to work post Mount Marathon I fielded a number of questions from my athletes, friends, and family about the race. Most questions were 1) How do you push yourself that hard, and 2) Why do you push yourself that hard?

In reflection, I do have to ask myself—when personal health is at stake, as it was in this race, is it really worth it? Was my Mount Marathon experience athleticism at it’s best or just pure stupidity? When can an athlete’s pain threshold and desire to perform inhibit reason? In this situation, my mental toughness was in direct conflict with my body’s physical limits.

Perhaps it was the newspaper’s recent articles discussing the fact that 5-time female Mount Marathon race winner Cedar Bourgeois was “racing against the clock” that got me fired up to race fast, or that I was inspired by my parents, uncles, and brother in the crowd watching me. Or that my fiance (who I married the next week) was halfway up the mountain cheering me on as my greatest fan. Perhaps it was a combination of all of these things.

After any race, good or bad, I ask my athletes to analyze their race experiences. I have them find three things that went well and three things that could be improved upon. Many keep detailed training logs or a race journal with these key points, in hopes of improving future race performance. Points include race strategies, notes on pace, technique, food/hydration, race warm-ups, and race/sports psychology.

As a professional coach I do try to heed my own advice. Besides, my 2009 Mount Marathon race experience has given me a lot to write and think about!

HOLLY BROOKS is a Nordic ski coach at Alaska Pacific University in Anchorage where she coaches junior and master athletes for competition and to support a healthy lifestyle. She's also an active competitor in cross country skiing and mountain running events... {more»}