Dead freaking last at Eastern States 100

DFL? Dead freaking last? How, what, why? Maybe coach needs a coach! Nobody is immune from a bad race. How did I get here? We need to rewind a bit and go over a series of events that put me in this position. In this race report, I am going to recap a series of events that led me to being in this position. Where did things go off the rails, what fatal mistakes did I make? Before I get into the virtual race, I want to recap the months and lack of what would have made this more successful. This wasn’t my A race of the season; I was more concerned about a last man standing event and pacing my friend at Western States. Eastern States was thrown in as a way to grab my qualifier for WSER. I should not have just “thrown in” Eastern States 100. It’s not a decision you should take on lightly to do one of PA’s hardest 100-milers. While I was doing some vert runs, three different trips disrupted my ability to put in quality training and caused me to miss critical training blocks. It’s one of the reasons I ask people about personal plans as a coach leading up to a race. Vacations and trips can and will disrupt critical training blocks.

Another mistake I made was the decision to place my shoe change after the stream crossing. I opted instead for just a sock change at Hyner. This was a mistake. I knew from prior races that I tend to need a full DRY shoe change around mile 30. This is different for each runner, depending on how their biomechanics work, how much they sweat, etc. I made the call to push my shoe and clothing change to after Tomb Flats. While the clothing change with the poncho worked, the plan backfired for my feet. This is all clear in hindsight, but I wouldn’t make that mistake again on a rocky and technical course. It’s the high amount of friction in wet shoes that did me in and slowed me to a crawl. The amount of pain I had from blisters was just too great. I normally put dry socks in my pack at race start, and I forgot to pack them. That was lesson number one.

There were some things that went right. This was the LONGEST I have ever run, at nearly 36 hours. One thing that did work well in this race versus others was using caffeine only in pills to make sure it was delivered exactly in the dose that I wanted, rather than in Tailwind or some other form. I did have a few cups of Coke, but in the past I have used coffee at aid stations. This kept me alert and awake over the night, whereas the first time I ran this race I was sleepy.

My mental game was on point, but in a split-personality type of way. I was reading the book “Do Hard Things” and this section stood out.

Before leaving the room, the researchers gave each child some coaching on how to persevere. They told one-third of the kids that they should think about their thoughts and feelings and ask, “Am I working hard?” The second third were given the same instructions but instead of saying “I,” they were told to use their name, such as, “Jill is working hard!” And the final group was told to refer to themselves as someone else they looked up to, for example, “Is Batman working hard?” With the instructions clear, the kids were left alone for ten minutes to work, distract, or do whatever they pleased. The six-year-olds who thought in first person, using “I” to reflect on their work, stayed on task only about 35 percent of the time, choosing the iPad for the majority of their ten minutes. The kids who referred to themselves by their name fared a little better, spending around 45 percent of their time on task. But it was the final group, which focused on Bob the Builder, Batman, or Dora the Explorer as the example of someone who worked hard, who stayed on task nearly 60 percent of the time. The more the child was distanced from his inner self, the longer he or she persisted.

“It’s easier to give advice to a friend than to yourself” is an adage that most of us have heard, and it largely holds. Should we quit a job or end a relationship? We’re often too close to the issue to have any sort of objectivity. We wrestle over the decision, with our inner voice offering a mix of justifications and rationalizations. Yet, if we see the same situation with a friend or acquaintance, the answer comes nearly instantly. We tell our friend that she needs to drop that guy without hesitation. This phenomenon doesn’t just hold true with giving advice, but also in helping us persist and navigate internal discomfort. It can be easily influenced simply by changing our grammar.

The six-year-old children were creating what’s called psychological distance. When we use first-person pronouns as part of our inner dialogue, the bond between ourselves and the situation is too tight. When we use third-person pronouns, our first name, or examples of others, it creates space between our sense of self and the situation. We transform into that friend giving advice, not blinded by our connection to the issue. According to work done by researchers from the University of Michigan, first-person pronouns tend to create a self-immersed world, while using words and phrases that create space produces a self-distanced perspective.

So how did I use this? Instead of saying, “You can do this,” or “Come on Patrick,” I replaced it with this image of the coach. Coach wouldn’t fail; coach would not DNF. “I” gave up multiple times, but coach didn’t. I kept referring to myself almost in the third person in this form, like a coach would not fail. A coach is a role model to others and my children, and as I kept talking to myself in the third person, in this image of what I saw as a coach, that is what I think was the defining thing that kept pushing me forward. It was this idea that I’m something greater, that is inspiring, versus just looking at myself as just another runner. I was trying to transcend the “self” and be more of a role model. I was this unstoppable coach, that yes, made a mistake, but he wasn’t going to give up.

At one aid station I asked if they had anything to pop blisters; they wouldn’t give me anything, but they did have a spray bottle filled with alcohol to dry off my feet. That was another way I had done damage control when I couldn’t replace my shoes. It’s actually something I need to remember for the future—a small spray bottle filled with rubbing alcohol felt amazing for wet, soaked feet.

Your crew is more important than you think, even if they are just waiting for you at the end. One of the things that was different for this race versus the nine before it was that my father was not there. This was also a test to see if I could race fully in the solo/no crew division. I did miss him; it did play a factor. When you know someone is waiting for you at the end, anyone is waiting, you find a reason to dig deep. I didn’t have that this race, and it showed. While my dad is older and can’t make it to all aid stations, the moral support that he provides is critical to success. Having a father who’s willing to bring you to all these races and wait for you and help you achieve your dreams pushes you forward in these events. He’s not the only one supporting me; there are many people also at home making this trip a reality. I had to start powering my mind with all the people NOT there that were helping, as well as the actual race volunteers. They were so helpful—you can see in the video the difference they made in my finishing.

An additional item that was a hit in this race was setting up the car as a sleeper after the event. I learned that if you let the car idle with the AC on and sleep in the back, it uses about 4 gallons of gas an hour. I slept very well after I finished, in the back of the car with the AC on. When my feet went south and I was on my way back for the final stretch, it felt great to dunk my feet in any small stream I could find.

In the end, a finish is a finish at Eastern States 100. Initially I didn’t know how to process this DFL, I almost was embarrassed by it. That quickly changed and I was proud of it. To grit it out for 36 hours and be last was an honor. I am glad I recorded the entire thing as well, because I think the video came out well. It shows my struggle, and it shows we are all human, and nobody is immune to having a bad day. It seems like life likes to throw you the lessons you need to learn the most. I am STILL learning to take on these races, but the thing is I don’t give up. I keep improving, and I keep trying, because that’s just want “coach” would do.

Thanks for reading!

Patrick Durante

Patrick is an ultrarunner and coach from Philadelphia who loves documenting his running career. His mission is to provide useful tips and tricks to assist others along their ultra journey.  You can find his coaching services at https://ultraruncoach.com.