100 Dreadmill Miles

​I’ve run numerous ultras over the past 10 years, but nothing quite like the Dreadmill 48 Hour Endurance Challenge. Yep, it’s exactly what it sounds like — muster as many miles as possible on a treadmill within 48 hours. Most participants went for a minimum of 100 miles, myself included. The milestone gets you a sweet new belt buckle and the accomplishment of reaching a nice round number. 

The event is a virtual race in which you register on UltraSignup and complete the run anytime in the month of December during a continuous 48-hour period. All miles need to be documented, as there are top 3 and finisher awards at stake. Those who complete 50 miles get a finishers coin. 100 miles earns a traditional pewter belt buckle. 150 miles or more gets you a gold plated version of the buckle and copious bragging rights. There’s also a 100-mile division, where runners complete exactly 100 miles as fast as they can while adhering to the 48-hour time limit. For this race less than a 100 miles is a DNF. 

It works like this. Email race director Benn Griffin telling him the day and time to start your 48-hour clock. Run as much as you can, exclusively on a treadmill. Whenever the treadmill stops, take a time-stamped photo of the treadmill’s display. When you’re done running, email all photos to Benn to verify what you’ve accomplished. Following the event, mileage is tallied up and posted

to UltraSignup and all awards are mailed out. All proceeds go to the Dana Farber Institute’s Jimmy Fund to help cover healthcare costs for cancer patients and to fund cancer research. 

Training for this involved running on a treadmill about 20-30 miles per week with the pace set to a consistent 10 minutes per mile. For the actual effort I’d try to sustain that pace as long as possible, not including stoppage time, and hopefully hold it for about 100k. Then just power through to the end at whatever pace necessary. My longest treadmill run ever was only 15 miles, and the longest I had time for in this short training cycle was 12 miles in 2 hours. The cycle was short after coming off the Midstate Massive 100 in early October and taking enough time to recover, plus #DadLife putting a limit on time available for running. 

A minor overuse injury to my left knee — diagnosed as runner’s knee — reduced my mileage throughout the month. I happen to work at a sports medicine office though, and the doctors and trainers I work with took the time to get me back on track with a strength training plan and running assessment to work on improving my form and economy while reducing risk of future injuries. I was also prescribed the NSAID meloxicam to take for the knee pain as needed. More on this later. 

The office I work at is in the same building as Ithaca’s premier gym, Island Health and Fitness. I thought reaching 100 miles during the gym’s open hours — 5:30 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. — would be relatively easy as long as I could stave off boredom. (Some participants run continuously on their treadmills at home — a luxury I can’t afford.) The original plan was to start the clock after work on Thursday, December 28th, and run until closing. With the following day off from work, I’d be there when the gym opened and probably finish the mileage before closing time. If not, I’d still have a good chunk of time on Saturday to make up the remaining miles. My wife could take care of our three-year-old twin boys during the short hours they’d be home from daycare. 

Now we all know Robert Burns’ commentary on diligent planning. Due to circumstances beyond anyone’s control — which I won’t elaborate on at this time,  — I had to be on solo parent duty during the non-daycare hours for the last several days of December. We learned this only days before my planned run. With no other option, I figured I’d have time for 50 miles, maybe 60 at best, on my day off from work and during breaks the day before. I emailed Benn late at night on the 27th. “Start the clock tomorrow morning at 5:30.”

Over the past two months I’d gotten used to going to the gym for an hour when they open at 5:30, so this day was no different. I had time for 8-ish miles before I had to get the kids ready and take them to daycare before starting work. I ran the distance at what was probably too hot a pace, but it felt okay since I had low expectations anyway. Fast forward to my lunch break, where I’d have time for another 6.6 to make it 15 total. It was all I’d have time for during my first 24 hours on the clock. 

The next morning I was back at it at 5:30, again for an hour before daycare. Same routine as yesterday. Then I’d be back for another 7-8 hours of running to try to reach at least 50 total and earn the 50-mile finishers coin. 

Do you ever notice how the mind wanders to strange places while running, even on short, easy runs? Sometimes outlandish ideas present themselves as pure genius in the moment. Reality hits the moment you unlace your shoes and you realize the world changing notion you had an hour ago is in fact nonsensical at best, completely insane at worst. It’s compounded even more the longer your run is. 

This has been my own experience for years. But on this one morning run I had nothing short of an epiphany when I realized I could still make time to reach 100 miles before the next morning. All I’d have to do is find another gym, a 24-hour one, and figure out how to get a day pass. I could run at night after the wife and kids are in bed. 100% genius, why didn’t I think of it before?

Following the morning’s 7-mile run, a Google search and a few phone calls found a winner. Finger Lakes Fitness Center, in the basement of downtown’s Center Ithaca, would give me a 24-hour “day” pass for $13, good all night long. The caveat was I’d have to stop there in person during the gym’s office hours  between 9:30 and 2:30. That meant taking a long break in the middle of my 8 hours at IHF, finding parking downtown, getting the pass and a tour of FLFC, and then driving back to IHF to run some more. 

I ran about 10 miles, then bit the bullet hard to ensure I’d have an all night dreadmill extravaganza. I went over to FLFC and the owner, Dan Stehm, showed me around and explained how to access the building and facility at night. It cost me about 50 minutes of running time, but I learned my way around FLFC and got a look at the treadmills I’d soon become well acquainted with. 

Around 11:45 a.m. I settled back into a grove on the IHF treadmill, setting the pace a just under 10 minutes per mile. I’d hold that pace as long as possible for the next 4 and a half hours. I could have saved some time by running this leg at FLFC, but Island offered better scenery out the windows facing the Cayuga Inlet, a fancier array of Precor treadmills, plus the occasional acquaintance or coworker wandering through. 

I’d given the logistical setup a lot of thought over the weeks leading up to the race. For the longer sections, I took the available treadmill closest to the bathroom and water fountain, — but without a TV in front of it — to minimize extra steps when I had to take a quick break. On the machine’s “holding area” shelf around the display I had one water bottle, one bottle for an electrolyte drink, a small towel, three gels, and my phone. I also hung from the display screen a small “drop bag” with extra shirts, socks, gels, drink powders, headphones, and various charging cables. The bag hung from the treadmill’s front side and could easily be rotated around when I need access. The setup allowed me to easily access all of my stuff mid stride without stopping or even slowing to a walk. 

The next few hours passed uneventfully. I finished two audio books — Aldous Huxley’s The Doors of Perception, and Black Money from Ross Macdonald’s Lew Archer hard boiled detective series. The latter I’d started while on the ‘mill the previous morning. With the former, no irony was lost listening to musings on recreational use of  acid and mescaline and their ability to transport the mind to new worlds, while staving off dreadmill monotony to keep from losing my own mind. 

One drawback to Island Fitness’s Precor treadmills is how they limit the run to 1 hour 5 minutes max before automatically stopping and ending the activity. Every time it stopped, I had to snap a photo of the stats with the Timestamp Capture app to later send to the RD, and log the activity in my spreadsheet to calculate total mileage and time. Each stop meant extra logistical work, but I had no control over it. At one point I accidentally hit the emergency stop after 0.7 miles, and had to log the 8-minute run individually to avoid losing that 0.7 and having to run the extra distance. 

My goal was to reach at least 60 miles by 4:15 p.m., giving me enough time to shower before leaving to get my kids. The last hour was rough. I found myself looking to take frequent walk breaks, and had to remind myself to keep it at jogging pace to hit the 60-mile mark. Going into the night later on with under 40 remaining would be a huge psychological boost. I barely made it, reaching 60.01 at 4:20. I’d have to shower and dress quickly, but 39.99 to go was much more preferable than, say, 40.5. I’d have the next 4 hours to think about the numbers and obsess over a nighttime strategy. 

At home I ate a full dinner with the wife and kids. It felt great to stuff my face with roasted vegetables and a Beyond Burger after running 45 sugar-fueled miles on the day. I tried to stay off my feet as much as possible but it was easier said than done. After a bunch of chores and making sure the boys were asleep, it was time to head out into the cold dead of night. Actually it was only about 8:45 p.m., but already felt much later. I drove downtown and parked as close to the gym entrance as a could, knowing the trek upon emerging from the basement would be an arduous, painful affair. 

Lo and behold, I was the only one crazy enough, uh I mean dedicated enough, to show up to the gym at 9:00 on the Friday night of New Year’s weekend. Since I had the joint to myself it was easy enough to grab a ‘mill on the end of the row closest to the door and water fountain, hang my drop bag and the next one over, and dump all my other stuff on the floor next to it. I brought a bunch more gear this time, for the longer continuous effort and the struggle to pull an all-nighter. 

It was 9:17 when I started up the treadmill at walking pace to loosen up my muscles. This meant I had exactly 8 hours and 12 minutes to cover 40 miles if I wanted that belt buckle. It took about 10 minutes at a brisk walk to loosen up before setting the pace to a trot. I’d keep the pace between 11 and 12 minutes per mile all night and try to minimize the stoppages and walk breaks. I also downed a meloxicam tablet to take some of the pain out of my legs. I'd never dropped an NSAID during a race or run before, but this obviously wasn't a time of avoiding new things on race day. I've heard too many negative things about relying on NSAIDs for performance and recovery and won't make a habit of it, but I'm pretty sure it helped ease the suffering and limit the walking later in the night. 

Who would’ve thought a silent, subtitled viewing of National Treasure could ever be so engaging? The 2004 Nick Cage action/adventure flick was showing on FX on the closest gym television. I started watching an hour into the movie and followed along best I could. When the movie ended, it aired again and I watched the hour I missed. Before I knew it, 3 hours and about 15 miles had passed without an ounce of boredom. 

The minutes and miles kept ticking by. Gels and Tailwind mix provided all the calories I needed before switching to Guyaki yerba maté in the early morning hours to ensure I’d keep my eyes open and quads pumping. The gym’s water fountain was only 10 steps away, making it easy to pause the run briefly whenever I needed a refill. 

By what to do for entertainment? It was the dead of night and was alone in a windowless basement facility with plenty of brain time to kill. I tried continuing with the audiobook version of The Babarous Coast — another Ross Macdonald entry in his Lew Archer series — but I just wasn’t into it and gave up. Then I slogged my way through an episode of the latest season of Black Mirror on the Netflix app but it required more brain power than I cared to expend. Following the plot proved difficult, with its deep philosophical musings regarding mindless entertainment and the shortcomings of modern technology such as AI. 

Okay, time to lighten the mental load. I found a groove when I turned to YouTube and shredded my tympanic membranes with Nirvana’s legendary 1992 Reading Festival performance. The Nirvana video kept my energy up until YouTube nearly killed my phone battery. I had to plug the phone in and keep it charged so I could take the required time-stamped pictures. 

During the entertainment I kept plugging away, taking a short “aid station” break every one to two hours. I split up the segments like it was a trail race with aid stations at specified intervals. The main difference was there were no volunteers, but I had immediate access to my food and gear without having to carry and manage a pack or bottles. I was barely running, but it was amazing how quickly the miles flew by compared to the other nine times I ran the 100-mile distance, all at trail races. At one point two other guys came in to lift weights for about an hour, but they were quiet and kept to themselves. They were the only other people I saw all night. 

When it got down to the final 12.7 miles I knew I’d have to keep moving steadily, as the timing would be close. I changed my shirt and socks to start the last stretch in a fresher state. To make the math easier, I planned for a break at exactly 95.1 miles. Then I’d run the final leg until the display read 5.00 miles to function as my finish line. The extra 0.1 was in case I was slightly off in entering the mileage on my spreadsheet, even though I double checked the data entry with my photos during a walk break around mile 90. 

While the phone charged I put on headphones and blasted my treadmill playlist for the final two hours. It was all I could do to avoid obsessing over the machine’s distance numbers, willing the LEDs in the hundredths column to switch over faster and faster. I was so elated as the numbers ticked higher and higher that I managed a full sprint for the final quarter mile until the distance display read “5.00” at 5:28 a.m. — less than two minutes before the 48-hour cutoff. 

My official distance was 100.14 miles. The finish line party consisted of me sitting alone on a bench in an otherwise empty gym, removing my shoes and socks, and spending a few minutes to take it all in before dressing for the laborious slog back tot hr car. I vaguely remember an older woman coming in and making small talk before she started on the weight machines, but as I’m writing this I honestly don’t know if she was a hallucination or not. 

The whole event wasn’t nearly as torturous or tedious as it sounds, at least not to me. It could be a good first time 100 for some runners. For those thinking about it: just run a bunch of training miles on a treadmill to get used to the feel and you’ll be fine. And remember, for the fixed time distance there’s no such thing as a DNF.  

Thank you Benn Griffin and BURC for taking the time to organize this and check everyone’s results! Maybe I’ll see you in February for Satan’s Sidewalk.

Results

My mileage spreadsheet