Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 129, April 2020 | Página 17

IN THE LEAD
to something like 1445 laps. But if you times that by
the 90 meters that the Garmin is giving me for those
loops, I would only be doing about 130.1 kays. So
I’ve just done the math to see where I really am,”
explained Thomas, filming himself while still walking
the course.
“If we take 70 kilometres, or 70,000 metres, and we
divide it by the 90 metres that Garmin’s giving me,
that gives me the amount of laps more or less that I’ve
done, and we get about 777. So if we take that and we
times it by 112 metres, the actual distance, which I’ve
just gone and remeasured now with the tape measure
with Cindy, I get 87.7 kays, which is essentially the
Comrades Up run done. So, I guess officially I’m over
the halfway mark, and we’re counting it down, and the
next target now is triple digits.”
Thomas during
one of his mid-
run vlog stops
Getting Through the Dead Hours
With the math done and steady progress ongoing,
Thomas was then faced with another glitch to factor
into his sums, and this came at the worst time, during
what he calls the ‘Dead Hours’ of the night, when it
is even harder to keep tired legs going. In another
mid-run update, he said, “The dead hours have been
pretty dead, especially when we had to lock the gate
because there was some trouble not far away in the
valley, so it was literally me doing a shortened course
for about three to three and a half hours. It was super
tight and with already shoddy ankles from all the
turns, in the dead of night it was even worse. That
was a bit soul-destroying.”
“Also, I am doing this back-to-front in terms of normal
100 miler timing, because the Washie 100 Miler race
starts at 5pm and runs through to 7pm the following
evening. So you start running through the night, which
means that by the time you are a bit delirious, the sun
really keeps you going. So it was quite interesting
here, after running 90-plus kays, to be doing the
dead hours with so much time already on the legs.
Fortunately, I had a good rub-down, Cindy sorted
me out with some supper and some yummies, and
of course, the runner’s best friends… Iceman cooling
gel, Vaseline and plasters!”
The rest, as they say, is history…although Thomas
came close to missing his target of finishing within
26 hours, which is the final cut-off at the Washie. He
finished his 100 miles in 25:59:40, and simply smiled
as he said, “Well, as you all know, I’m the cut-off
specialist. Still this was cutting it fine!”
A special
medal for
a special
run
Have a Lockdown Laugh
We found this satirical piece by Mark Remy on the dumbrunner.com website and just had to share it here. Check their
website out when you get a gap – always good for a laugh.
Local Man Cancels
Marathon in Backyard,
Refuses to Give Self Refund
A local man abruptly cancelled the marathon he’d planned
to run in his backyard, then refused to issue himself a
refund, Dumb Runner has learned. Chuck Noland, 38,
a long-time runner, had planned the solo event after
his scheduled spring race, the Wilsonville Marathon,
was cancelled due to the coronavirus pandemic.
Noland countered that the terms and conditions were
clearly spelled out in the handwritten waiver that he’d
drafted and signed. “Much of the cost of staging an
event like this comes in the form of food, hydration,
equipment rentals and logistics,” he said to the mirror.
“I’ve already spent that money.”
Noland offered himself a guaranteed spot in any future
backyard marathon. “Great,” he replied, sarcastically.
“Yeah, no thank you.”
Sources said Noland spent nearly 20 minutes arguing
in front of the mirror before throwing up his hands and
walking away. At last report, Noland was on his laptop
filing a complaint against himself with the Better
Business Bureau.
“I’d seen these stories about other runners doing their
own marathon in their yards, or even on balconies and
stuff,” said Noland. “And I’d done all the training anyway,
so I figured, hey, that’s a fun idea. I could do that.”
Noland marked out a loop in his yard, measured it at
642 feet, and figured he’d need to run 216 laps to get
to the full marathon distance, 26.2 miles. He ordered
jugs of Gatorade; bananas and bagels for the finish;
cowbells for his partner and their two young children;
and even an inflatable finish line arch. “And then,” said
Noland, “it got cancelled.”
That happened just one week before race day,
when Noland stood before his bathroom mirror and
announced that the event was off, citing lack of
interest. He also said that he would not be offering
refunds. “What?” he told his reflection. “That’s bullshit!”
Chuck Noland’s backyard, the scene of no lockdown running whatsoever!
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