24-Hour Treadmill Run Record: One Day on a Treadmill by David Deubelbeiss
Indoors or Outdoors? by David Deubelbeiss
I have looked at all the treadmill 24-hour attempts and compared these to outdoor bests. It indicates that the treadmill suffers from a 30 percent differential for the worse. Why? It seems there isn’t any “roll,” so energy gets absorbed into the treadmill. You don’t use your hamstrings or your Achilles much, which stores energy on landing that doesn’t “release.” On a treadmill it is more a glide than a forceful running gait.
That said, it is easier to eat on the treadmill, but also harder in the sense that it is more boring and less “ingrained.” Also, treadmill running is a “hotter” run, comparatively, because of decreased wind resistance. But this is also a plus; you gain because you don’t use energy to fight the “atmosphere,” pushing your body through it.
I have just recently put together my package to meet Guinness requirements for record accreditation. Most importantly is that the event take place in a public venue with many witnesses. In my case this will be supported with witness statements, signatures and my record run log book listing all info. It will also be accompanied by the many media articles and news clips to support my claim. Also, the treadmill was overhauled by Precor technicians before the run and I will send along their documentation that the treadmill was accurate and calibrated. - David Deubelbeiss
January 18, 2003 -- Rat Race: One Day on a Treadmill by David Deubelbeiss
January 18, 2003, 9:30 a.m. I am frantic. The cameras aren’t even up and operating and it is just two hours until the starting time. I’ve been organizing this whole affair myself, 24 hours on a treadmill. The organization has been the most tiring. Cameras, sponsors, charity pledge forms, arrangements with Monster Gym, the media, interviews, arrangements with The Guinness Book of World Records, and relay teams to accompany me. But finally the day has come. I am here, fully prepared. “Be ye prepared” is my motto. Later my motto will be, “Don’t think—just keep moving.”
It all started at the U.S. Masters cross country championships (where I placed tenth), sitting around afterwards, sharing a beer and someone mentioning a crazy person who had ran 24 hours on a treadmill. We laughed, shrugging it off as an oddity. But on the drive home, alone with only my thoughts,the thought kept swirling in my head: “I can do that.” So I did. “You can do a lot even if you don’t think you can’t,” is yet another of my mottos.
I have always been a runner. I love all types of running: one mile, endless miles, up stairs, trails, tracks, mountains, roads, five-km’s and 50-km’s. It’s all the same to me—a challenge. Last year though, I began getting in defining shape, increasing my mileage, doing speedwork, and cutting out the garbage miles. Gradually I began thinking of ultras and entered a few with success. Each one got easier; the recovery was faster and I focused on the next race. My focus became set on a fast 100-km in 2003. The idea of 24 hours on a treadmill would fit in nicely, keeping me motivated and keeping the miles coming.
In preparation I did at least 50 percent of my mileage on the treadmill (a LifeFitnessHR model). I did more than 150 miles in a week three weeks before my attempt and knew I was ready. My pulse after running at seven miles per hour was only 90 beats per minute. It was like I was sitting on the couch at home in front of the television! A quick 15 km in 54 minutes while just jogging the first two five-km loops was another indication that I was fit and ready for the attempt.
The big day finally arrived. Lots of media crowded around as I pushed the button, and we were off. By “we” I mean two other treadmills with relay runners. They were my motivators. In addition to the two treadmills alongside mine, I had tremendous support from the members of my running club, Longboat, arriving at all hours of the day and night. Even people visiting the gym at 4:00 a.m. to work out offered support. I couldn’t have had more “mind distraction,” and the hours just flew by.
Except for first few hours; they were horrible. I really mean that. I was eating and drinking like crazy and my stomach felt heavy and painful. It was an awful feeling. I adjusted my calorie intake and it cleared up. I had calculated I needed more calories than I actual did. I took in only 500 calories per hour over the course of the event: a bottle of Carbxccelerator (400 calories) my electrolyte drink (one liter) with water, bananas, Fig Newtons, chocolate chip cookies, and zone caps to balance out the intake. I took a couple of Ibuprofen every four hours and in the wee hours of the morning several caffeine pills. Aside from that all I needed was my trusty pair of Saucony Jazz. They are amazing shoes—I swear by them. I was cruising, running at 6.8 to 7.2 miles per hour, with three-minute walking breaks every half-hour. It felt easy and I chatted with everyone around.
During my breaks I walked at four miles per hour, a steady pace. Scott Eppleman, who had recently and valiantly done 116.05 miles in a 24-hour treadmill run, had advised me to “just keep going.” I took his advice to heart. I just kept going, and except for pee breaks the treadmill just kept going forward. I must have peed a lake (actually seven liters in total) which was a great sign that I was working well within my limits. A fan at my side (to avoid wind assistance) kept me cool. Looking at the relay runners, I knew I was having a great day. They looked like they were straining, sweating profusely. I had barely a drop on my skin. But it was still early.
I completed 100 km in 9:41 and felt like I could still have done a speed workout. But I stuck to my game plan, which was to get 200 km and the record, no matter what. I just needed to do the miles slowly and get the record in my pocket, not taking any chances by picking it up and going for broke. It worked. I reached 100 miles in 16 hours and 21 minutes. Then it was on to the record—but it seemed to take forever! That was the longest part of the whole race, those hours in the wee hours of morning.
The only glitches were oversights that could have been completely prevented. I lost about 20 to 30 minutes of time in resetting the machine every hour. For some reason the treadmill “marathon” setting wasn’t working, so each hour it would shut off automatically. We would record the mileage and as quickly as possible I’d punch the buttons and get the thing going again. That took up precious time. Also, at around 2:00 a.m. the treadmill I was on went blank and shut down. I had to get onto another treadmill (losing the four tenths of a mile that was on the display, thus not counting in my final total), and it felt like I was running in mud! It just felt completely different. But after a half-hour, the old treadmill came to life and I climbed back on the machine like it was an old friend. I guess I had become used to its feel and bounce after more than 14 hours. There was one last glitch—blisters. At 10 hours I felt something in my shoe that felt like a stone. I revved the treadmill down to zero and took off my shoe. It was a red, bloody mess! My socks were soaked. It seems the fan had kept me perspiration free, except for the bottom part of my legs. So my socks had become soaked and blisters ensued. It didn’t slow me down; I just ran on. But it was a problem after the run, keeping me off my feet for a few days.
Just before 8:00 a.m. I surpassed the old record. There were few people there, but they all whooped it up with me, swaying to the music that kept me going the whole way, Rave unto the Joy Fantastic by Prince. My steadfast handler Mike, who was there the whole way, was among those sharing my joy. My goal was in the bag, so I could relax.
During the remaining four hours I alternated running and walking. I could have pushed for more, since I still had a lot left in the tank, but I was happy with what I’d done. A big grin kept appearing on my face as the sun began to climb behind me. It was an amazing high, a runner’s high times 100, a glow and happiness at just being alive. I love that moment. I think all ultrarunners know what I mean: that moment when all things are in their place. You accept all and are at peace.
With an hour to go, the press started to trickle in and so too, more supporters. By the end, the place was packed and everyone was cheering me on. I saw that with a little bounce in my step I could make 130 miles, so I ratcheted the treadmill up to eight miles per hour and let it fly for the last 15 minutes. No problem. In fact, never during the 24 hours did I feel absolutely pooped. I think I could have done much more, but I wanted to be sure. Then came the final countdown—and elation. My lovely sisters gave me a kiss of congratulations. I thanked the sponsors and all of the special people who made it happen, did a few interviews and sipped my Budvar (a Czech beer—I lived and ran for five years in the Czech Republic). The day was mine.
It has been an amazing experience, and I look forward to my next goal. That is what it is all about—goals. Not just world records, but those satisfying challenges we reach for in all aspects of life. If you can dream it, you can do it, I like to say. This year I hope to run a quick 100-km and also try for an outdoor 24-hour record. It seems within my grasp. And your reach must exceed your grasp, or what’s a heaven for? Didn’t some old poet say that?
Since the record, I have received such support, literally hundreds of e-mails. I thank each and every person. I’m so honored my little life and breath could have an impact. A few people since have tried to break the record, but nobody has gotten near it yet. I am satisfied the mark will last the year. But nothing lasts forever—that is life’s biggest lesson. But I will enjoy my 15 minutes while they last.
People often ask how I could have done it. What about the boredom? While boredom is “like meeting like” as Paul Valery once insightfully quipped, I see the uniqueness in everything. Not every “like” is similar. I never felt bored, not even for a moment. I never felt more at home; I was just “there,” in that zone, watching everyone, and thinking and thinking. That was the ace up my sleeve. I am steadfast and philosophical and it helped immensely in keeping going, just doing it. Also, I have always been motivated by numbers and on the treadmill. Pavlov’s response is a necessary evil. I just kept reaching for the next number on the display.
In addition to my mental approach, I am an athlete who does other sports; I’m muscular and cross trained. I think that made a difference, especially my rowing training. I had conditioned all of my leg muscles. That becomes a factor after my main running muscles became fatigued. I also run all distances. We shouldn’t limit ourselves. Three weeks after my 24-hour run, I ran a 4:40 indoor mile on an old, worn out track. I’m just as proud of that accomplishment. My “speed” helped immensely over the long run. I swear by it; all ultrarunners should too.In retrospect, this adventure was a little surrealism thrown into the winter. We all need to do something crazy, to reach. I did and my words of parting are that you too, should squander your life for a purpose. Live not in the what, but the how. It is the grace in how we attempt anything that shines. It is our human flame that says, “There went a man (or woman).”
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