Satan's Sidewalk 150

 

Satan’s Sidewalk 66.6-Hour — the hellish big brother to the Dreadmill 48-Hour. The event is a fixed-time virtual race where runners tick off as many miles as they can or care to, all on a treadmill, in 66.6 hours. The rules are essentially the same as the Dreadmill 48, requiring time-stamped photo documentation to verify completed mileage. Satan’s Sidewalk also has a 66.6K option for those not interested in going the distance, plus an Outdoor Folly option for those without treadmill access and those without the level of stupidity required to run in place for 2 days, 18 hours, and 36 minutes. 

My goal for the Satan’s Sidewalk 66.6-Hour was 150 dreadmill miles. I wasn’t able to hit the distance at the Dreadmill 48 in December and wanted to give it another shot with the extra 18.6 hours. I still had to manage kids and chores during breaks, but less so than during Dreadmill. At any rate, this time I didn’t have to manhandle a queen mattress from bedroom to garage while the clock was ticking. The 2024 Dreadmill 48 also helped me learn to listen more to my body and come up with a workable routine, rather than wing it like I did for 2023’s Dreadmill. It turns out multi-day treadmill ultras are less dreadful and satanic than most people think. 

Logistics were easy. I’d keep all my normal gels and stuff on a table with cold drinks in a cooler. While running at home, I could access my kitchen at any time for some real food. I made a spreadsheet to track mileage and elapsed time as I progressed. Audiobooks, music, and YouTube would provide the necessary distractions. 

I took a Thursday and Friday off from work, giving me four days with the weekend included. I actually started at 8 p.m. on Wednesday using the Proform ‘mill in my basement and went on to hit my first night’s goal of 35 miles. Then I showered, ate, and crashed for 3 hours on the basement couch. The night’s entertainment included NBA legend Bill Walton’s audiobook memoir Back From the Dead, read by the author, and, after I started getting sleepy, my curated playlist of dreadmill music cranked up loud. 

After dropping the kids off at school, I went straight to Island Health & Fitness for another 35 at the gym. The gym is in the building where I work and has a little more scenery than staring at my basement wall. My coworker Anthony even came down during lunch and paced me for a mile. Reaching 35.0 meant postponing showering until home — kinda miserable when it’s 15° F outside, but with the psychological benefit of hitting that session’s target. Then I picked up the kids at 5:00 and we went home for dinner. 

I knew the second night would be rough. I planned to sleep an hour without an alarm, which quickly turned to 3 hours and a late night start on the ol’ ‘mill. I had trouble moving until some yerba maté caffeine worked its magic, then cruised through another 20 miles. I planned for 25, but the late start nixed that idea. The extra sleep was so worth it though. A tendon in my posterior left knee started to get angry during every walk-to-run transition, but it was manageable. Miraculously nothing else hurt. 

Day two was, as Yogi Berra would say, déjà vu all over again. Crank out the miles with headphones, allowing each song to dictate the pace, while half paying attention to the closed captioned TV movies. This time I managed a 7-hour 50k at the gym with enough time to shower before getting the kids. The session’s target was 30 miles, so I felt good about driving home with 121 behind me. 

29 miles to go — barely even an ultra distance. This is what I told myself; believing it was another thing. The kids crashed around 7:00 and I spent some time with my wife, catching up on the day and watching TV while eating pizza. I could’ve eaten like 40 pizzas but settled for one small one — a vegan cashew curry pizza from nearby Salt Point Brewing Co. 

The third night’s goal was 15 miles, which would give me plenty of time in the morning to finish before the final 2:36 p.m. cutoff on Saturday. But the night’s start was rough. I walked 6 miles while watching the Angry Video Game Nerd on YouTube and waiting for the pizza to digest. I just couldn’t motivate myself, and after an hour it became a struggle to keep my eyes open. By now I’d covered 127 miles in 50 hours, with 8-9 hours of cumulative sleep. I know some serious ultra runners that can manage this quite well but I ain’t one of them. 

A one-hour “power nap” on the basement couch with the lights on and all the sudden I’m resurrected. I quickly found my groove and blew right past the 15-mile target, taking a break at mile 140.0. No pain other than the aforementioned minor knee irritation and one non-fatal toe blister. It was then I knew I’d push through to the end and finish before sunup. I started to get sleepy at mile 146 but kept at it and finished around 5:30. No crowd, no finish line, no medal. Just my own sense of accomplishment for at a difficult thing I’d never done before. 

Thanks again to Benn Griffin of BURCS for organizing this and partnering with invaluable cancer charities. For the most part I enjoyed another round of audiobooks and ear-shredding 90s rock n’ roll while getting a little exercise. My legs are trashed as I write this and I’m way behind on sleep and already considering the next treadmill virtual race, Spring Surge.

Afterword

I did receive a belt buckle and a fancy 150-mile hoodie in the mail, plus a third place award. I’ve also found that many of the songs on my race playlist are burned into my mind and I receive involuntary flashbacks of zombie jogging in my basement at some ungodly hour of the night.